By Lewis Brogdon
Executive Director of the Institute for Black Church Studies, BSK Theological Seminary
I recently published two articles on the social, political, and moral condition of America —Christian Witness in an Age of Global Change and Devouring Itself: Nihilism and the Fall of the American Empire. Both were follow-ups to earlier works, including The Fight for the Soul of America and America Is Not Ready for the Next Crisis, published in Christian Ethics Today. These pieces reflect a deep concern about where the nation is headed and how theology attempts — and often fails — to speak into this moment.
While conducting research for these newer writings, I revisited a book I read years ago that suddenly seemed more relevant than ever: Mark Noll’s The Civil War as a Theological Crisis. Noll’s work offers not just a historical analysis, but a prophetic lens for understanding our current dilemmas. The more I read, the more I began to see eerie parallels between the crisis of that time and our present one.
Noll’s Theological Crisis
In The Civil War as a Theological Crisis, Mark Noll argues that the war was not merely a political or military catastrophe, but also a theological failure. The inability of religious leaders to come to terms with slavery — particularly their divergent biblical interpretations — revealed a deep fracture in American Christianity. Both North and South claimed scriptural support for their positions. Yet instead of moving toward greater clarity or unity, the theological impasse intensified — contributing even to denominational schisms — and revealed the limited capacity of American theology to resolve deep moral and social divisions.
Noll makes the case that the war exposed two critical issues: the failure to interpret the Bible coherently on issues of national significance, and the unresolved “Negro question,” which was more about the preservation of racial hierarchy than slavery itself. European and Catholic commentators, less encumbered by American racial ideologies, often had clearer theological critiques — underlining the myopia of American religious thought at the time.
What makes Noll’s analysis even more damning is that both theological crises — of Scripture and of providence — were inextricably tied to the plight of Black people in America. The interpretive failure wasn’t just about hermeneutics — it was about justifying the enslavement of millions through selective, distorted readings of the Bible. And the crisis of providence wasn’t simply about misunderstanding God’s will in war — it was about claiming divine blessing on a nation that sanctified racial subjugation. These were not minor theological missteps; they were deeply consequential failures to discern God’s concern for justice, especially toward the most vulnerable.
Abraham Lincoln, in his Second Inaugural Address, gave voice to this very tension when he observed, “Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other.” He went on to acknowledge the unsettling possibility that “the Almighty has His own purposes” — a clear departure from the confident providentialism that defined much of the religious rhetoric of the time. Lincoln’s insight reflects a humility that was largely absent in American theology during the war and underscores the disorientation that arises when religious certainty collides with historical catastrophe.
Noll writes:
“Standard Christian teaching about God’s control of the world and all events taking place in the world sprang vigorously to life as the dramatic events of the war unfurled… Yet in nineteenth-century America confidence in the human ability to fathom God’s providential actions rose to new heights… Americans thought they could see clearly what the world was like, what God was like… In such a situation, clarity about the workings of divine providence posed a particular problem because God appeared to be acting so strikingly at odds with himself… thus pointing to a profound theological crisis.” (p. 75)
This crisis of providence — of understanding God’s hand in the affairs of history — was not just theological confusion. It was a breakdown in the entire interpretive framework that undergirded American Protestant thought. Noll concludes:
“Religious beliefs about the course of affairs were strongly held but weak in affecting what transpired… religious reasoning about the course of history seemed confused, simplistic, and ineffective.” (p. 93)
And perhaps most crucially:
“The difficulty was not trust in providence as such but trust in providence so narrowly defined by the republican, covenantal, commonsensical, Enlightenment —and above all — nationalistic categories that Protestant evangelicals had so boldly appropriated…” (p. 94)
We Have Been Here Before: A Disturbing Parallel
These fractures in American theology — first exposed in the 19th century and documented by Noll — echo eerily in our own day. In Devouring Itself, I argued that a distinct form of nihilism is eroding American society, not in spite of religion, but because religion has failed to reckon with its own moral compromises. Nietzsche warned that Europe’s crisis would come when Christianity could no longer bear the weight of modern life. America’s crisis is similar, though shaped by different demons. Here, it was theology that sanctioned slavery, glorified violence, and promised providential favor to a nation built on racial hierarchy. Theological systems once designed to give meaning now serve to mask decline. The fault lines Noll identified have not healed; they have deepened — with churches and their theologies often standing by in silence or complicity.
This is precisely the warning we need today. Like the pre-Civil War era, we live in a time of entrenched dysfunction, division, violence, and pride. From mass shootings and climate collapse to algorithmic manipulation and political extremism, we are, as I wrote, “living through a time of profound disruption… a tectonic shift in the very structures of society, communication, identity, and survival.” This is not just a political or social crisis — it is also a theological one.
In my recent works, I argue that America is again facing a crisis — not just of governance or economics, but of meaning. In Devouring Itself, I diagnose a nihilism creeping through American life, born not from the absence of religion, but from its distortion. Much like in Noll’s era, we witness Christian rhetoric used to sanctify tribalism, nationalism, and even violence. Theologies once meant to uphold justice now enable domination. They are “religiously held but weak in affecting what transpires.”
Likewise, in Christian Witness, I stress the need for discernment — what the Bible calls “understanding the times.” Yet we are surrounded by voices who confuse partisan loyalty with prophetic clarity. We are inundated with movements — on the right and the left —trying to frame national distress in theological terms: Christian Nationalism claims divine favor for America’s past; Red Letter Christians appeal to Jesus’ ethics to critique contemporary injustices. While there is merit in each, there is also the danger of recasting theology in narrow, nationalistic, or ideological categories — the very trap Noll warns against. Progressive voices, though more compassionate, are sometimes limited by their own partisan blind spots — including a paternalism that speaks down to working-class Americans and treats its inclusiveness as beyond critique, an overreliance on identity politics, and a failure to deliver meaningful legislative and policy wins for African Americans. These failures contribute to the broader crisis, even as they claim to resist it.
What we are seeing today is not just disagreement over facts or values, but something deeper: a collapse in the interpretive structures that once helped Americans make moral sense of national events. And just as in the 19th century, this collapse has theological roots.
From Providence to Polarization
Noll’s insights into the “narrowly defined” theology of providence illuminate today’s confusion. If the 19th century’s crisis was grounded in the assumption that God’s will could be discerned through national success, today’s crisis is rooted in the belief that truth itself is relative, tribal, and algorithmically curated. As The Social Dilemma warns:
“We are all simply operating on a different set of facts. When that happens at scale, you are no longer able to reckon with or even consume information that contradicts with that worldview you’ve created. That means we aren’t being objective, constructive individuals.”
Theological systems, shaped by centuries of Enlightenment thought and national mythology, were never designed to handle this level of fragmentation. We are not merely suffering from political dysfunction; we are experiencing an epistemic and moral breakdown. And, tragically, many forms of American religion are unequipped to address it — just as they were during the Civil War.
Noll’s work, though rooted in the 19th century, sounds uncannily contemporary. He exposed a theological failure not just of content, but of structure — how Americans thought God worked, and how certain they were about it. Today, our crisis is not that different. We still speak of God, of justice, of truth — but the interpretive frameworks that once helped us understand these realities are now fractured, politicized, and often incoherent. The fault lines Noll identified have not disappeared. They’ve migrated — into algorithms, pulpits, protest chants, and political platforms. In such a moment, the temptation is to withdraw or to cling harder to failing systems. But theology — if it is to have a future — must recover its capacity to critique, to imagine, and to inspire.
The final warning comes again from The Social Dilemma, but it might as well have come from Noll:
“When that happens at scale, you are no longer able to reckon with… information that contradicts with that worldview you’ve created.”
This, I fear, is the true theological crisis of our time. When people live in separate realities, theology becomes not a bridge, but a mirror — one that only reflects back the biases we bring to it. Theology then loses its prophetic edge. It no longer disrupts or convicts; it comforts and conforms.
And this, ultimately, is the parallel that matters most. Just as American Christianity failed to prevent the Civil War — and in many cases sanctified it — we risk a similar failure today. If we do not confront the theological and moral inertia at the heart of our divisions, we may find ourselves incapable of reckoning with the deeper sickness of our society.
Why Theology Still Matters — But Must Change
Despite this grim picture, I am not suggesting we abandon theology. Quite the opposite. But we must reckon with how theology is formed, used, and lived out. Theology must be disentangled from nationalism and partisan identities. It must regain its prophetic edge, its moral imagination, and its humility.
As I argued in The Fight for the Soul of America, America has always struggled with its better angels. It has had moments — through abolitionism, civil rights, and social reform —where theology served the cause of justice. But we are again losing ground in the moral struggle. We are not merely failing to live up to our ideals; we are watching our ideals disintegrate into performative outrage, curated realities, and violent tribalism. In America Is Not Ready for the Next Crisis, I warned that our lack of collective moral wisdom, our embrace of ignorance and arrogance, would leave us vulnerable. That prophecy has, sadly, come true.
To avoid repeating history, we need a theology that is both prophetic and humble. A theology that does not merely interpret the crisis but seeks to transform the conditions that created it. We need theologians and faith leaders who are not afraid to challenge their own traditions, who can speak across ideological divides, and who recognize the sacred dignity of every person.
Most of all, we need a shared commitment to truth — not as weaponized doctrine, but as moral and spiritual discernment. As Jesus approached Jerusalem, he wept and said, “If you had only known on this day what would bring you peace…” (Luke 19:42). That lament could just as easily be spoken over America today. Jesus foresaw that Jerusalem’s spiritual blindness — its refusal to see what God was doing in its midst — would lead to devastation. Despite its identity as God’s people and its deeply held religious traditions, the city lacked the one thing that mattered most: true discernment. Their failure to recognize the time of their visitation would lead, within a generation, to siege, destruction, and exile. Religion alone did not save them. In fact, it masked their crisis until it was too late.
This history — both Jerusalem’s downfall in the time of Jesus and America’s theological failure during the Civil War — teaches us that theology, for all its powerful insights, can also be profoundly blind. History reminds us that we are not guaranteed peace, or justice, or unity. But we are given moments — kairos moments — in which the future can be reshaped. If we fail to discern this moment, if theology once again retreats into partisanship or silence, the consequences could be as devastating as they were 160 years ago.
In the final analysis, if theology remains tethered to power, nostalgia, and partisan identity, it will continue to fail the nation. But if it can recover its prophetic voice — one shaped by justice, humility, and courage — it may yet help us find a more honest path forward. The question is not whether theology will speak. It’s whether it will tell the truth.
Questions for Further Thought and Reflection
- How has American theology historically shaped — and been shaped by — national crises?
- Can theology still serve a prophetic role in a deeply polarized and fragmented society?
- What does it mean to “understand the times,” and how can theology help us do that today?
- In an age of curated realities and ideological echo chambers, how can theology help us break through distortions and recover a shared moral vision?
Sources Cited
Mark A. Noll. The Civil War as a Theological Crisis. Chapel Hill: The University of North
Carolina Press, 2006.
Orlowski, Jeff, dir. The Social Dilemma. Exposure Labs, 2020. Distributed by Netflix.
About the Author
Lewis Brogdon (Ph.D.) serves as the Executive Director of the Institute for Black Church Studies and Associate Professor of New Testament and Black Church Studies at BSK Theological Seminary in Lexington and Louisville, Kentucky. An accomplished scholar and writer, Brogdon is the author of several books, including The Gospel Beyond the Grave (Cascade, 2025), The Bible in the Ashes of Social Chaos (Cascade, 2023), A Companion to Philemon(Cascade, 2018), Hope on the Brink (Cascade, 2013), and No Longer a Slave but a Brother (Scholars Press, 2013).
Author’s Note
The author used OpenAI’s ChatGPT to support the editorial process, including revising for clarity and style.