Standing in the nave of the St. John’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, I told my kids that this was the place where Patrick Henry boomed his famous words, “Give me liberty, or give me death,” hoping to elicit in them the thrill I recalled feeling when I heard about this in elementary school.
Henry was a serious Christian and churchman. He vehemently opposed Thomas Jefferson’s ideas about the separation of church and state, fearing the disestablishment of religion would send Americans careening into immorality. As he lay dying, he said to his doctor, “I have used many arguments to prove to you the truth of the Christian Religion; I will not give you my last argument by showing you how a Christian can die.” He left a note for his family: “This is all the inheritance I can give you, my dear family: the religion of Christ, that will make them rich indeed.”
He left another note, meant for the American people (and us, I would say): “Whether independence will prove a Blessing or a Curse will depend on the Use our people make of the Blessings which a gracious God hath bestowed on us. If American citizens act with wisdom, they will be great and happy. If not, they will be miserable. Righteousness alone can exalt them as a Nation.”
Among the Burgesses who heard Henry’s firebrand of a speech that May day in 1765 were George Washington and Jefferson. His 7 memorable words were prefaced by the eloquent “Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.” That “as for me” echoes Joshua’s great vow in Joshua 24: “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” His speech also included the line “Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace, but there is no peace,” a clear allusion to Jeremiah 6:14. He knew his Bible.
With dramatic flair, he finished by plunging a knife toward his chest. The room fell, not into raucous cheers, but utter silence for several minutes. How often does the Bible speak of sheer silence as the holiest, noblest response to the presence of God?
Patrick Henry, champion of freedom, owned dozens of slaves, and unlike his fellow Virginian George Washington (who died the same year as Henry), he made no provision for freeing them. Blind spots, self-justification, the indulgent assumption that what I have and am sure I need must be acceptable to God plague all of us in various measures, our Founders included.
It’s fascinating to me that Henry, prominent in the annals of history for a speech he made, was laughed at by his sophisticated, educated, elite co-revolutionaries for his crude, unlettered manner of speech, poor grammar, mis-pronouncing and misusing words. Edmund Randolph observed though that “his irregular and homespun language which might disgust in a drawing room finds access to the hearts of the popular assembly.” John Adams called him a modern-day Cicero.
The New Testament was written not in formal, classical Greek, but more street Greek, the language of commoners. Paul apologized for not being an eloquent speaker (2 Corinthians 11:6), and Moses, of course, was a stammerer used by God to set Israel free from the Pharaoh (Exodus 4:10). God uses the lowly to topple what is high and mighty (1 Corinthians 1:25-28).
I’m also interested theologically in “liberty.” Americans prize “freedom” above all else. But be sure: the Bible suggests something truer – that we may feel free, but we are in fact shackled to self, sin, habits, the culture, all those lesser gods who can’t deliver. We who are bound are set free by God’s salvation and the Spirit (Galatians 5:1) – and freedom then isn’t doing as you wish, but doggedly serving God, going and acting in the way God directs. For Paul, it’s not “liberty or death,” but true liberty in God is a kind of death to the old life (Romans 6:4-11). However impressive worldly life seems, it’s hollow and unsatisfying. Christian faith seeks this dying in order to rise to new life. Christians may well say “Give me that good death that gives me true liberty!”