“Pains were taken to connect Ministers of the most dissimilar religious principles together.”
So wrote founding father Benjamin Rush in his account of the July 4, 1788, Grand Procession in Philadelphia. The Constitution had just been ratified by nine of the 13 states (New Hampshire was the ninth, on June 21; all 13 would eventually approve America’s founding document), and a celebration was in order. Five thousand people marched, and an estimated 17,000 gathered along the streets to applaud the parade celebrating the new country.
Rush’s observations were recorded in the July 15, 1788, edition of the Pennsylvania Mercury:
“…The Clergy formed a very agreeable part of the Procession — They manifested, by their attendance, their sense of the connection between religion and good government. They amounted to seventeen in number. Four and five of them marched arm in arm with each other, to exemplify the Union. Pains were taken to connect Ministers of the most dissimilar religious principles together, thereby to shew the influence of a free government in promoting Christian charity. The Rabbi of the Jews, locked in the arms of two ministers of the gospel, was a most delightful sight. There could not have been a more happy emblem contrived, of that section of the new constitution, which opens all its power and offices alike, not only to every sect of Christians, but to worthy men of every religion.”
The country was now officially established. George Washington took the oath of office nearly 10 months later, on April 30, 1789. Solidarity was created. The inclusion of religious leaders indicated how important religion was — and is — to the American experiment. The clergy’s joint appearance stood out as a carefully staged moment of ideological meaning, not just a ceremonial detail. The concept of America brought together these leaders who had “dissimilar religious principles,” who, prior to the procession, had largely regarded one another as competitors, and in some cases, enemies. They processed as colleagues. They walked arm in arm. The interfaith, side-by-side participation was intentional and symbolic. It visually expressed the new constitutional principle of religious equality and has been remembered as an early public enactment of American religious pluralism. The procession honored the budding democracy that was embracing the religious idea that we all are worthy, and was creating a society that needed and defended the rights of all to pursue freedom.
Muslims were not part of the procession, as there was no documentation of Muslim leaders in Philadelphia at the time. That said, Thomas Jefferson owned his personal copy of the Qur’an, reflecting his deep commitment to religious freedom and pluralism. Jefferson’s Qur’an was the holy book Keith Ellison put his hand on in 2007 when he was sworn in as the first Muslim elected to Congress.
The journey toward American solidarity and religious pluralism has not been an easy one. It has been fraught with disputes, resentments, denunciations — and, 165 years ago, a Civil War. Yet the hope and commitment to hold the country together have not only been maintained, but have guided us through the many tribulations we have faced as a country.
As we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, there will undoubtedly be competition between various groups engaged in events and actions marking the anniversary. They will vie for attention. Given the plague-like polarization in the country, there may be attempts to diminish or delegitimize one another. Turmoil and tribulation may surface in gut-wrenching ways. There is no end of precedent for that sort of response.
But as we continue to uncover moments in American history when difference was not just honored but, as in the 1788 Grand Procession, created a “most delightful sight,” we can build on that legacy, lift it up, and lock our arms together in a commitment to hope and as an expression of healing.
Religious toleration — indeed, religious pluralism — is in America’s DNA. Let’s celebrate that.
Mark Beckwith is a retired bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Newark, N.J. He lives in Jaffrey. He can be followed on markbeckwith.net.