Post 34 THE DIVINE IMPERATIVE OF LIBERTY

7 min.

Foreordination and the Rise of Human Liberty

Viewed through the lens of the Restoration, the founding of the United States reveals a deeper and more expansive meaning than is usually acknowledged. Its origins reach not only to Europe and antiquity, but to the premortal realm, where God declared his universal purpose: “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.”

With perfect foreknowledge, God observed his children before mortality and discerned their capacities. This is not mysticism but doctrine: he could logically appoint individuals whose gifts and dispositions suited pivotal earthly tasks. History’s pattern of epochal figures appearing precisely when most needed, when liberty, the fight against evil, or advancing truth hangs in the balance, becomes not coincidence but consequence. As Abraham recorded, God looked upon his noble and great ones and said, “These I will make my rulers.”

Because God knew his children’s strengths, he could place courageous souls at the exact moments when human agency, freedom, and progress required them. Cicero sensed this same reality, noting that in the greatest minds there exists “a certain presage of a future existence.” John Adams felt it in 1774 as he wrote to Abigail, astonished that the delegates gathered in Carpenters’ Hall represented “one of the greatest assemblies of the greatest men.” The extraordinary convergence of talent that shaped the American founding was not accidental. It was foreordained.

This doctrine is not only spiritual—it is logically elegant. If God’s purpose is the exaltation of his children, then history must unfold in ways that maximize human agency. Liberty becomes a theological necessity. The American founding becomes a rational step in a divine plan. The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution emerge not merely as political documents, but as instruments enabling the moral and spiritual growth of God’s children.

Seen this way, the American experiment is more than a national story. It is a chapter in the divine story of human freedom—carefully prepared, precisely timed, and eternally significant.

Christ: The Center of Human Progress

Moral agency stood so central in the Father’s plan that when Satan sought to destroy it, he was cast out. Christ defended agency, and through his atoning sacrifice he made genuine choice possible — the very condition required for growth, creativity, and civilization itself.

Across the sweep of history, in harmony with the foreknowledge of God, Christ’s light stirred poets, prophets, philosophers, inventors, reformers, and discoverers. Whether pagan or Israelite, ancient or modern, they drew — knowingly or unknowingly — from the same divine source.

Bacon in philosophy. Gutenberg in invention. Tyndale in translation. Columbus in discovery. Newton in science. Washington in the struggle for freedom. Franklin in diplomacy. Stephenson in steam. Watts in song. Adam Smith in economics. Joseph Smith in theology and revelation. Lincoln in emancipation. Edison in electricity. Likewise, Calvin, Luther, Melanchthon, and other reformers felt spiritual currents that compelled them to challenge injustice, elevate conscience, and advance the revolutionary idea of individual and societal freedom.

Seen through the Restoration, Christ emerges as the unseen architect behind humanity’s upward rise — the quiet power animating liberty, inspiring genius, and preparing the world for the fullness of his gospel. Human progress is not merely a record of brilliant individuals; it is the unfolding of a divine pattern, guided by the One who champions agency and invites all to come unto him.

The Deep Roots of Liberty Across Civilizations

The American Founders did not emerge from a vacuum. They inherited a vast intellectual and spiritual lineage that stretched across continents and centuries — a preparation woven into human history long before 1776.

Hebrew prophets taught covenant, moral accountability, and the dignity of choice. Greek thinkers cultivated reason, inquiry, and disciplined debate. Roman jurists established order, citizenship, and republican structure. Muslim scholars preserved and expanded classical learning through eras of upheaval. The Renaissance rekindled human dignity and the pursuit of knowledge. The Reformation awakened conscience, scripture, and the primacy of individual conviction. The Enlightenment articulated natural rights, reason, and universal law. The Atlantic crossings of the Pilgrims and Puritans led to the creation of self-government through a civil body politic based upon the two great commandments and the Golden Rule. The Great Awakening stirred spiritual equality and personal conversion. Native American confederacies modeled federal unity and shared governance. Europe’s long struggle against divine kings and America’s battle against state churches revealed the destructive costs of coercion.

Together, these traditions formed a deep reservoir of ideas, experiences, and moral insights. From this inheritance, the Framers crafted founding documents rooted in liberty — because liberty was not merely a political preference. It was the essential soil in which truth could flourish, conscience could awaken, and a global Restoration could take root.

Seen through this lens, the American founding is not an isolated political moment but the culmination of a long, divinely guided preparation — a point at which ideas could finally move freely across the globe for the moral and mutual instruction of all flesh and the improvement of the human condition. As with the air in which we breathe, move, and have our physical being, the knowledge of God cannot be confined, monopolized, or held in exclusive possession. It is meant to circulate, to enlighten, and to elevate. Liberty simply provides the atmosphere in which that divine knowledge can spread without coercion, awakening conscience and enabling the greatest story ever told and the truths of the Restoration to reach every nation, kindred, tongue, and people.

The Rise of Agency in a World of Oppression

Across human history, moral agency has seldom been honored. Too many of God’s children have lived — and still live — under systems of coercion and domination. Yet in every age, God has inspired courageous souls to defend “that principle of freedom that belongs to all mankind.”

A pivotal moment in that long struggle came 250 years ago with the signing of the Declaration of Independence, setting in motion the creation of the United States and its companion charter, the Constitution. The emergence of this nation as a free republic is the story of how Judeo‑Christian principles found fertile ground in America — and how God prepared a land where liberty could take root, flourish, and ultimately bless the world.

Seen through the Restoration, the founding becomes not merely a political event but a divinely timed advance in the global rise of freedom — a necessary step toward a future in which truth can spread, conscience can awaken, and all God’s children can seek him freely.

The Restoration Requires Liberty — Liberty Requires America

Over centuries, with meticulous preparation and precise timing, the Lord cultivated the conditions necessary for the Restoration of the fullness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. That process did not begin in 1820, nor did it end with the Prophet Joseph Smith’s martyrdom in 1844. It has unfolded and continues to unfold according to divine design — and in order for it to have the maximum intended effect, it requires a world in which essential freedoms exist:

  • freedom of conscience.
  • freedom of worship.
  • freedom of the press.
  • freedom of assembly.
  • freedom to preach.
  • freedom to publish scripture.
  • freedom to build houses of worship.

In 1833, the Lord declared that the rights preserved in the Constitution were to be maintained “for the rights and protection of all flesh.” He also added a principle at the heart of the Restoration: “It is not right that any man should be in bondage one to another.” Joseph Smith echoed this universal vision: “It is a love of liberty which inspires my soul — civil and religious liberty to the whole of the human race.”

Abraham Lincoln understood the Founders’ intent. Interpreting the Declaration of Independence, he wrote that its authors introduced a moral maxim “applicable to all men and all times,” deliberately placed there not for immediate political effect but for future use — as a rebuke to tyranny and a safeguard against the human tendency to oppress. “The assertion that ‘all men are created equal’ was of no practical use in effecting our separation from Great Britain; and it was placed in the Declaration not for that, but for future use. Its authors meant it to be a stumbling‑block to all those who in after times might seek to turn a free people back into the hateful paths of despotism. They knew the proneness of prosperity to breed tyrants.” As he wrote these words, Lincoln honored Jefferson for having “the coolness, forecast, and capacity” to embed an abstract, eternal truth into a revolutionary document so that it would stand as a warning to every future age.

Thus, the Declaration appeals to both the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God — reason and revelation — as the foundation of its claims and the legitimacy of the new nation. The Constitution then operationalized those principles, creating a political order where liberty could flourish and conscience could be activated.

Seen through the lens of the Restoration, the American experiment was not accidental. It was foreordained. It was an inevitable chain of events leading to a sure conclusion — a divinely guided preparation for a world in which freedom would expand, truth would spread without coercion, scripture would be published without suppression, and prophets would speak without fear. The rise of America was foreordained because liberty itself was foreordained. And liberty was required for the Restoration.

Four Main Events of 1776

The year 1776 stands as one of the most consequential turning points in human history. In a single year, four events converged to reshape the world: the birth of a free people, a Statute that formed the foundation for religious liberty, the emergence of an economic order based on merit, and a warning about the vital importance of maintaining the influences of religion, morality, and civic virtue. These events did not arise by accident. They were the culmination of centuries of intellectual, spiritual, and moral preparation — moments when God raised up wise men to establish a land where truth could begin to cover the earth and freedom could flourish. Together, these four events were foundational pillars upon which religious liberty and prosperity could expand and the Restoration could unfold.

Next post: The Beginning of Freedom

POST 32 THOUGHTS ON GOVERNMENT

5 min.

Blueprint for a Balanced Republic

John Adams was a man of extraordinary insights. In a visionary assessment he wrote, “Soon after the Reformation, a few people came over into this New World for conscience sake. Perhaps this apparently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire to America…” He was also convinced that reconciliation was impossible; that the crisis with England would never be settled peaceably.

Adams saw the moment as providential — a rare opportunity for mankind to choose a new form of government based on reason, virtue, and the rights of man. Upon his return to Philadelphia in February 1776, he drew up a list of what he was determined to see accomplished. Independence was the only chance at American liberty, and he was determined that the great step be taken. The only question was when to make the move. Across the top of a page in his diary, he titled his work A Declaration of Independency.

With the delegates equally divided among opposition, caution, and independence, the Continental Congress was strained and the mood of Philadelphia contentious. When word arrived that Parliament had denounced as traitors all Americans who did not make an unconditional submission to British rule, the punishment, as every delegate knew, would be death by hanging. Having been advised early on by Dr. Benjamin Rush that they were perceived as “too zealous” and that they must defer to the “very proud” Virginians, who felt they had the right to lead, the New Englanders bided their time while holding firm for independence.

There were times on the debate floor when the arguments reached fever pitch. The “cool faction,” driven by pacifist Quakerism, continued to support peaceful methods for resolving the crisis. In the words of George Washington, these were those “still feeding themselves upon the dainty food of reconciliation.” In the heat of the moment this group, led by John Dickinson, even threatened to break off from the others and “carry on the opposition by ourselves in our own way.”

As to his feelings regarding half measures, Adams wrote to General Horatio Gates: “The middle way is no way at all. If we finally fail in this great and glorious contest, it will be by bewildering ourselves in groping for the middle way.”

What neither Dickinson nor Adams nor anyone could have anticipated was the stunning effect of Common Sense…a call to arms, an unabashed argument for war, and a call for American independence. “Everything that is right or reasonable pleads for separation,” wrote Thomas Paine. Though agreeing with Paine that the time was ripe for revolution Adams saw no quick victory, nor did he concur with what he labeled as Paine’s “feeble” understanding of the kind of government (a unicameral legislature) that should be established once independence was achieved.

“The happiness of the people was the purpose of government,” Adams wrote, “and therefore that form of government was best which produced the greatest amount of happiness for the largest number. And since all sober inquirers after truth agreed that happiness derived from virtue, that form of government with virtue as its foundation was more likely than any other to promote the general happiness.

“The greatest minds agreed,” Adams continued, “that all good government was republican, and the true idea of a republic was ‘an empire of laws and not of men.’ A government with a single legislative body would never do. Essential to the stability of government and to an able and impartial administration of justice, was separation of judicial power from both the legislative and executive.” Urging the widest possible support for education, he added: “Laws for the liberal education of youth are extremely wise and useful.”

John Adams’ ideas spread quickly. Upon request, he gave a copy of “Thoughts” to George Wythe, America’s first law professor, dean of the Virginia bar, and Thomas Jefferson’s patron. In the months that followed, driven by expression of popular will, the power of the ardent revolutionaries increased as the conservative and moderate elements lost credibility through their dogged opposition to independence.

In the development of his own views, Thomas Jefferson had been more cautious than Adams, due in major part to Virginia’s dependence on English creditors and the lure of aristocratic life. Now, however, upon his arrival in Philadelphia, his commitment was no less than Adams’ own. In their devotion to the common cause of America, both men joined with others who craved independence and viewed themselves as participants at a crucial juncture of history.

On June 7, in Independence Hall, Richard Henry Lee, following three days of fierce debate, introduced the process that would turn the world upside down: “Resolved: That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States.”

Jefferson was the protege, Adams the mentor. On June 10, the Committee of Five, consisting of Jefferson, Adams, Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston, and Benjamin Franklin, was appointed to prepare a declaration of independence. Valuing Jefferson’s literary talents and recognizing the political advantage in having the declaration written by a Virginian, Adams considered Jefferson the best choice for the task.

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blog: http://www.americasgrand.design

Post 28 THE UNLIKELY PAIR

How Providence Prepared a People for Liberty

Benjamin Franklin and George Whitefield should have stood on opposite ends of the world. One was the printer‑philosopher of Philadelphia — a man who trusted the steady hand of reason. The other was the thundering evangelist whose sermons rolled like weather across the colonies. It was a friendship no one could have expected. Yet Providence has a way of pairing opposites when a nation is being prepared.

As the author of this post, I consider both men to be among the noble and great ones described by Abraham. They were dedicated, courageous, and committed to the cause of human freedom. “I find Mr. Whitefield a perfectly honest man, and I am persuaded he will do good,” said Franklin. Their friendship became a hinge in the story of America — a meeting of mind and spirit that helped shape a people who would soon demand liberty.

Whitefield: The Voice That Stirred a Continent

George Whitefield did not merely preach; he summoned. He spoke as if eternity pressed against the present moment. Crowds gathered in fields — farmers, merchants, enslaved Africans, skeptical elites — all drawn by a voice that carried for miles. He democratized faith before America democratized politics.

Whitefield insisted that every soul could encounter God directly, without priest or king standing between. This was spiritual, but it was also political. A people who learns to question overbearing religious authority soon learns to question every other kind of illegitimate authority.

It is apparent that Whitefield was an instrument chosen for a divine purpose. With discipline, courage, and unwavering conviction, he fulfilled his role in God’s design. Guided by a sense of destiny, his voice resounded across continents, proclaiming the hand of God in the advancement of America’s civil and religious liberties. “The whole world is now my parish,” he thundered.

Franklin: The Skeptic Who Could Not Look Away

Benjamin Franklin did not share Whitefield’s theology. But he could not deny Whitefield’s power. He measured it — literally — calculating how far the preacher’s voice could travel. He printed Whitefield’s journals. He attended his sermons, even when he promised himself he would not give a penny — only to find his pockets mysteriously emptied by the end.

He admired Whitefield’s sincerity. Whitefield admired Franklin’s integrity. Their friendship became a parable of America itself: reason and revival, intellect and conviction, standing side by side.

In the gospel of Christ there is immense power: civilization, law, order, morality, the family — all that blesses society and gives peace to nations. “I always consider the establishment of America with reverence and wonder,” wrote John Adams, “as the opening of a grand scene and design of Providence for the illumination of the ignorant, and the emancipation of the slavish part of mankind all over the earth.” Franklin shared this sense of destiny: “Our cause is the cause of all mankind.”

Along with the other Founding Fathers, Franklin and Thomas Jefferson understood the stakes. Both men were deists, shaped by the new vistas of the Enlightenment. Through study, conversation, and the intellectual ferment of the age, they absorbed its confidence in reason, its suspicion of dogma, and its belief that truth could be discovered through inquiry rather than inherited through tradition.

For Franklin, this meant gradually setting aside the rigid Calvinism of his youth. “History is a tale,” he came to believe, “not of immutable forces but of human endeavors.” The Enlightenment opened before him a world where God could be known through the study of nature and the disciplined use of the mind.

Yet Franklin’s reasoning did not end there. He eventually recognized that deism, for all its elegance, lacked moral traction. “I began to suspect,” he wrote, “that this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful.” A faith that inspired no duty, demanded no virtue, and offered no community could not sustain a nation — nor satisfy the human soul.

So Franklin did what he always did: he synthesized. Drawing from Puritan moral seriousness, Enlightenment rationality, and the deistic insistence on a benevolent Creator, he forged a creed centered on practical goodness. “God is very good to us,” he wrote. “Let us show our sense of His goodness to us by continuing to do good to our fellow creatures.”

This openness — this refusal to be trapped by inherited categories — became one of Franklin’s greatest strengths. He moved through the major intellectual and spiritual movements of his age without becoming captive to any of them. He questioned, refined, discarded, and rebuilt. He listened to revivalists without becoming credulous, and to skeptics without becoming cynical. He could admire Whitefield’s faith without adopting his theology and admire the Enlightenment without surrendering the possibility of divine intervention.

Because of this, Franklin became a remarkable instrument in the hands of Providence: a man broad enough to converse with every camp, humble enough to revise his views, and courageous enough to follow truth wherever it led. His lifelong openness even led him, near the end of his life, to suggest that Christianity in its original purity — stripped of corruption, restored to its primitive simplicity — might one day return to the earth. It was a fitting hope for a man who believed that God’s work in the world was ongoing, and that human reason, rightly used, could help prepare the way.

The Hand of God in the Friendship

Franklin built institutions. Whitefield built movements. Franklin shaped the civic imagination. Whitefield shaped the moral imagination. Together — knowingly or not — they helped prepare the colonies for the coming storm. As William Cowper wrote, “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.” The friendship between Whitefield and Franklin was one of those wonders.

The Spiritual Spark of Resistance: A People Prepared

The Great Awakening (1730s–1740s) swept through the colonies with spiritual force. Led by Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield, it challenged the cold rationalism of the Enlightenment and emphasized personal conviction, moral responsibility, the equality of all souls before God, and the right — and duty — to question authority.

When thousands gathered in open fields to hear Whitefield preach, they were practicing something they did not yet have a name for: a public capable of acting together. When ordinary people felt empowered to question spiritual authority, they learned to question political authority. When colonists from Georgia to Massachusetts shared the same sermons, the same tears, and the same moral urgency, they began — perhaps for the first time — to see themselves as one people.

The Great Awakening did not merely save souls. It forged citizens. It gave the colonists the mindset, courage, and unity needed to resist arbitrary and tyrannical power.

The Crisis Beneath the Crisis

The economic grievances mattered. Taxation without representation affected everyone. The arguments of James Otis, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson were compelling. But beneath all these currents ran a deeper, more powerful tide: the Spirit of God was moving upon the people.

The colonies were entangled in a double‑barreled struggle over authority. Taxation without representation was a political insult. Economic bondage was a conspiratorial system designed to keep the colonies dependent. Tobacco planters, bound to English merchants, carried all the risk while London reaped the profit. Jefferson described this as “a chronic condition of indebtedness… so that the planters were a species of property annexed to certain mercantile houses in London.”

Meanwhile, British cronyism blocked American access to western lands. George Washington saw this as deliberate — a strategy to keep Americans weak and confined. A political crisis of enormous magnitude was approaching its flash point.

A New Understanding of Rights

As Parliament dismissed colonial petitions, James Otis Jr., a prominent Boston attorney, articulated a revolutionary idea: human rights are God‑given and immutable. If rights come from God, no earthly power can rightfully take them away.

Even Washington, long reluctant to accept the inevitability of war, changed his mind after the Boston Tea Party: “The cause of Boston ever will be considered as the cause of America.” Between 1765 and 1776, every failed attempt at reconciliation only strengthened the resolve of a people who had already been awakened.

America’s Grand Design

Looking back, the pattern is unmistakable. A revival that united the colonies. A friendship that bridged reason and faith. A people awakened to the dignity of the individual. A continent stirred by a message of inner liberty that would soon demand outer liberty. This was not coincidence. It was choreography. A divine preparation. A grand design.

The Great Awakening did not merely precede the Revolution. It prepared the people for it. It shaped their conscience. It united their hearts. It taught them that authority must answer to God — and that liberty is a sacred trust.

By the time the Stamp Act arrived, the colonies were no longer a loose scattering of settlements. They were a people who had stood shoulder to shoulder in fields, listening to a man who told them that their souls mattered. That their choices were consequential. That their conscience was their guiding star.

Whitefield taught them to feel the weight of liberty. Franklin taught them to build the structures that liberty requires.

The American Revolution did not begin in 1776. It began much earlier in the hearts of men and women who had been awakened. In 1760, as he neared his twenty-fifth birthday, in the same year that twenty-two-year-old George III would be crowned king of England, John Adams stood in the hall and heard James Otis declare with fiery eloquence: “Government has an everlasting foundation in the unchangeable will of God, the author of nature, whose laws never vary.” It was at that moment, Adams recalled, that, “then and there, the child independence was born!”

The call for freedom also had its beginning when a preacher’s voice rolled across the fields and a printer‑philosopher listened — when conscience was stirred, when reason was ennobled, and when a people began to realize that they were capable of standing together against arbitrary power.

A Marvelous Work and a Wonder

Looking back, the pattern is unmistakable. The Great Awakening was not simply a wave of religious enthusiasm; it was a divine prelude to the birth of a nation. The same Spirit that stirred farmers and merchants in open fields was preparing the soil of a continent for a greater harvest.

Through the thunder of Whitefield’s sermons and the steady reason of Franklin’s pen, Providence awakened a people to the dignity of the individual, the sanctity of conscience, and the sacredness of liberty. These were not merely political ideas — they were spiritual preparations.

A nation that learned to hear the voice of God in the 1740s would, in time, be ready to hear about a fourteen-year-old boy’s prayer in a grove in 1820. A harbinger of things to come, the Great Awakening forged a people capable of receiving new scripture, new revelation, and the return of divine authority. In the unlikely friendship of a preacher and a printer, and in the rising courage of a continent, we see the quiet choreography of Heaven — guiding, aligning, and preparing a people for both independence and Restoration.

website: http://www.americasgranddesign.com

blog: http://www.americasgrand.design

Post 17 The Magna Carta: A Turning Point in Mankind’s Long March Toward Freedom

3 min.

Providential Orchestration and the American Founding

Prepared by History — Orchestrated by Heaven

Throughout the Dark Ages and long after, theocracies and autocracies resisted change. To protect their power, they labeled outsiders as infidels to be conquered and insiders as heretics to be silenced. This pattern continues even today: entrenched power always fears liberty.

1215: When England Reached a Breaking Point

King John’s abuses—crushing taxes, arbitrary arrests, broken promises—pushed the nation to the edge. A group of determined nobles finally stood up and forced the king to accept limits on his power. Their agreement declared the king is bound by the law; nobles and landholders must receive trial by jury; property cannot be seized without lawful judgment.

Why the Magna Carta Was Needed

Culturally, Europe was emerging from the Dark Ages. Learning, literacy, and law had decayed. People longed for stability and fairness.

Politically, King John violated the very foundations of feudal society. His rule was unpredictable and oppressive.

Socially, trade was expanding, towns were rising, and ordinary people needed consistent laws to thrive.

Religiously, the Roman Church held immense power. John’s conflict with Pope Innocent III destabilized the kingdom and emboldened resistance.

What the Magna Carta Did

The Magna Carta was not a modern constitution. It wasn’t written for the masses. But it planted seeds that would grow for centuries: the king is under the law; no man can be imprisoned without due process; property cannot be seized without lawful judgment; and certain taxes require consent (an early form of representation).

Shifting the Course of Civilization

The Magna Carta became the foundation for:

  • The Petition of Right (1628)
  • The Habeas Corpus Act (1679)
  • The English Bill of Rights (1689)

By the time English settlers came to America, they carried these principles with them. The Founders saw themselves as heirs of a tradition that began at Runnymede.

A Divine Thread Running Through History

For people of faith, the Magna Carta is one chapter in a much larger story: God was breaking the grip of arbitrary power; he was reawakening the idea that rulers are accountable to a higher law; he was preparing the world for the Reformation and the spread of scripture; he was laying the groundwork for constitutional government and religious liberty; he was setting the stage for the American experiment in freedom. For non‑believers, it stands as a powerful example of human courage and the natural evolution of justice.

The Magna Carta as a Reminder

In our time, the Magna Carta reminds us that freedom is fragile; that liberty requires courage; that rights must be defended in every generation; and that the march toward justice is long, but it bends toward freedom when people stand firm. Whether you see the Magna Carta as divine design or the natural unfolding of human progress, it was a spark, a seed, a beginning.

website: http://www.americagranddesign.com

blog: americasgrand.design