U.S. Intellectual History Blog

Penn Shao, *A Chinese observer traces a journey from Puritan orthodoxy to liberal religion in America’s heartland*

On Christmas Eve 2024, shortly after moving back to the Boston area, my family and four, including my 10-year-old and 5-year-old boys decided to attend a local church service. Not out of religious conviction — I was born and raised in mainland China, where faith and skepticism coexist in uneasy tension — but out of curiosity and a desire for cultural connection.

Our destination was the First Parish Church in Concord, MA, a stately, beautiful structure at the heart of a historic Massachusetts town. Concord is famous not only as the site of the first battles of the American Revolution but also as the home of some of the nation’s most influential writers, thinkers, and spiritual leaders. I knew little about the church itself. But I soon realized that its story, like that of many religious institutions in New England, embodied a much larger narrative: the long, often uneasy evolution from religious orthodoxy to liberal faith, from communal doctrine to individual reason.

That night, the sanctuary was full. The service, marked by choral singing and brief pastoral reflections, felt solemn yet simple. Notably, it avoided the traditional Christian vocabulary of sin, salvation, and submission. No one mentioned Jesus or the Bible by name. For someone accustomed to the rigid dichotomy often presented between secularism and faith — especially within Chinese and immigrant communities — this omission was striking. Where was the theological certainty? Where was the call to obedience?

Instead, what I found was a community quietly enacting a centuries-long shift: a church where faith had not been discarded but had been rationalized, pluralized, and deeply democratized.

The Concord First Parish Church: Democracy in the Pews

Founded in 1636, the First Parish Church of Concord began as a Puritan meetinghouse. Like other “First Parish” churches in New England towns, it was both a house of worship and a civic center. The parish’s first notable minister, Rev. William Emerson, not only tended to spiritual matters but also presided over political gatherings during the revolutionary ferment of the 1770s. His grandson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, would later become the leading voice of American transcendentalism.

The church’s original denomination was Congregationalism, a tradition emphasizing local autonomy and democratic governance. Unlike Catholicism or Anglicanism, Congregational churches were governed by their own members. Major decisions were made through congregational votes rather than imposed by bishops or higher authorities. This ecclesiastical democracy mirrored — and arguably helped to shape — the emerging political democracy of the American colonies.

In many ways, the First Parish Church was not just a religious institution but also a crucible for American ideals: self-governance, free inquiry, and the blending of spiritual and civic life.

Harvard’s Theological Evolution

Harvard University, founded in 1636 — the same year as Concord’s church — was originally established to educate Puritan clergy. Its mission was clear and unapologetic: to advance learning and ensure that future congregations would not be left to the guidance of an illiterate ministry. For more than a century, Harvard’s theological curriculum reflected the orthodoxy of New England Puritanism, rooted in Calvinist doctrines of biblical authority, original sin, and predestination.

But by the late 18th century, winds of change were sweeping through both society and academia. The Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason, empirical observation, and moral philosophy began to erode the rigid theological certainties of the past. Harvard’s students and faculty increasingly questioned predestination and human depravity. They incorporated moral philosophy and natural theology into their studies, aligning faith with rational inquiry.

A pivotal moment came in 1805 when Henry Ware Sr., a proponent of Unitarian theology, was appointed to Harvard’s prestigious Hollis Professorship of Divinity. Unitarianism, rejecting the traditional Christian doctrine of the Trinity, emphasized the oneness of God, the use of reason in religious matters, and the moral authority of individual conscience. This appointment marked the formal shift of Harvard’s divinity education away from Calvinist orthodoxy toward a more liberal, rationalist approach.

The change sparked outrage among conservative theologians. Some faculty members departed Harvard and founded the Andover Theological Seminary to preserve traditional doctrines. After operating at different locations in the Greater Boston area, the institute eventually merged with Yale in the 21st century. Yet Harvard continued its path of liberalization, nurturing a new generation of clergy and intellectuals who prioritized reason, ethics, and religious tolerance over inherited dogma.

By the mid-19th century, Harvard’s Divinity School had become a laboratory for progressive religious thought, setting the stage for the transcendentalist movement and, eventually, broader currents of theological liberalism that would ripple through American religious life.

Emerson’s Radical Thought and Transcendentalism

By the 1830s, the seeds planted by Harvard’s theological liberalism had begun to bear bold, unconventional fruit. Ralph Waldo Emerson — grandson of the Concord church’s revolutionary-era pastor — had followed in the family tradition, becoming a Unitarian minister after studying at Harvard. But he quickly grew restless within the confines of institutional religion.

In 1838, less than a decade after leaving the ministry, Emerson returned to Harvard Divinity School to deliver what became known as the Divinity School Address, as the commencement speech for the school. His speech was nothing short of revolutionary.

Emerson challenged the core assumptions of Christianity itself. He rejected the idea of Jesus as a divine figure, portraying him instead as a great moral teacher. More provocatively, he insisted that every individual could access the divine directly through personal intuition, without the mediation of clergy or dogma. “The soul knows no persons,” he declared. “It invites every man to expand to the full circle of the universe.”

This philosophy — later recognized as transcendentalism — asserted that the divine was not confined to ancient texts or ecclesiastical authority. Instead, it resided within each person’s conscience and in the natural world. Transcendentalists believed that truth could be discovered through introspection, moral action, and communion with nature.

Emerson’s ideas were radical not only for their theological implications but also for their political and social resonance. If every person possessed an inner divinity and a capacity for moral reasoning, then hierarchies based on class, race, or gender were inherently suspect. Transcendentalists, including Emerson’s protégé Henry David Thoreau, became outspoken advocates for abolitionism, women’s rights, and other reform movements.

The reaction to Emerson’s address was swift and severe. Even Harvard’s liberal Divinity School faculty were shocked. Andrews Norton, a leading Unitarian theologian, denounced Emerson’s views as a dangerous erosion of Christian foundations. To orthodox Christians, Emerson’s assertion of universal spiritual autonomy undermined the essential doctrine of Solus Christus — salvation through Christ alone — and the triune nature of God.

Yet, despite the backlash, Emerson’s influence only grew. His writings resonated with a broad audience of intellectuals and laypeople alike. Even President Abraham Lincoln is said to have engaged with Emerson’s ideas. By the time Harvard awarded Emerson an honorary doctorate in 1866 — three decades after his controversial speech — the university itself had come to embrace many of the liberal religious principles he championed.

Vatican II and the Broader Shift in Religious Authority

While Emerson and the transcendentalists challenged Protestant orthodoxy in 19th-century America, the Roman Catholic Church held firmly to its traditional doctrines well into the 20th century. The Church maintained exclusive claims to spiritual truth and salvation, viewing other faiths — including Judaism — as either incomplete or erroneous paths to God.

This position began to change dramatically during the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), a pivotal moment in modern religious history. Convened by Pope John XXIII and continued under Pope Paul VI, Vatican II sought to address the Catholic Church’s relationship with the modern world, including other religions.

In 1965, the Council issued Nostra Aetate (“In Our Time”), a landmark declaration that redefined the Church’s stance toward non-Christian faiths. The document affirmed that the Jewish people retained a special covenantal relationship with God — a direct rejection of the “supersessionist” theology that had long taught the Church had replaced Israel as God’s chosen community. Nostra Aetate also emphasized religious tolerance, the value of interfaith dialogue, and the recognition that truth could be found, at least in part, in other religions.

Though the declaration carefully avoided endorsing full theological pluralism, it acknowledged that the moral and spiritual efforts of non-Christians could lead them toward God. In doing so, the Catholic Church moved closer to the liberal religious ideals that transcendentalists like Emerson had articulated more than a century earlier: the dignity of individual conscience, the moral worth of diverse religious traditions, and the need to engage with a pluralistic world.

Many Protestant denominations, particularly liberal ones, welcomed Vatican II’s reforms. Yet conservative Protestant groups, including many Evangelicals and Reformed traditions, continued — and continue to this day — to uphold sola fide (faith alone) and the necessity of explicit belief in Jesus Christ for salvation. For them, Emerson’s vision of universal spiritual access and Vatican II’s gestures toward inclusivity remained, at best, theologically suspect.

Nonetheless, the spirit of openness and self-reflection that Vatican II embodied reflected a broader, cross-denominational shift in modern religion: a move away from rigid doctrinal exclusivity and toward an emphasis on individual moral reasoning and interfaith respect.

The Rise and Struggles of Unitarian Universalism

As theological liberalism gained ground, many Congregational churches in New England — including the First Parish Church of Concord — gradually shifted toward Unitarianism in the 19th century. Unitarianism’s emphasis on reason, personal conscience, and the rejection of the Trinity resonated with the intellectual climate of the time.

Meanwhile, a parallel movement was unfolding: Universalism. This tradition, which took root in America in the late 18th century, proclaimed a radically inclusive doctrine — that all souls would ultimately be reconciled to God. Universalists rejected eternal damnation and emphasized divine love, social justice, and the inherent worth of every individual.

In 1961, these two liberal movements with similar values formally merged to create the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA). This new denomination embodied the cumulative trajectory of New England’s religious evolution: from Puritan orthodoxy through rational dissent to a pluralistic, non-creedal faith.

Today, Unitarian Universalist congregations welcome a diverse spectrum of believers and seekers — including theists, agnostics, atheists, humanists, and adherents of various world religions. Instead of a fixed doctrine, the UUA promotes shared values: the dignity and worth of every person, the pursuit of justice and equality, and the encouragement of spiritual growth through free inquiry.

Yet the very openness that defines Unitarian Universalism has also become its greatest challenge. Without a unifying creed or compelling narrative of salvation, the denomination has struggled to retain members, especially younger generations. According to official UUA data, membership has declined by 16% over the past decade, dropping to fewer than 130,000 members nationwide by 2024. Sociological studies suggest that children raised within UU congregations often drift away from religious affiliation altogether in adulthood.

This trend reflects a broader pattern among liberal religious traditions: as they become more aligned with secular values and social activism, they risk losing the distinct spiritual identity that traditionally binds religious communities together. The triumph of reason and pluralism, it seems, may come at the cost of enduring communal loyalty.

Progress or Loss?

Standing in the First Parish Church of Concord on that Christmas Eve, surrounded by a predominantly older congregation and the quiet absence of younger faces, I felt the weight of both history and its consequences.

The church’s journey — from Puritan orthodoxy through Unitarianism to Unitarian Universalism — reflects not merely a local story but the broader arc of American religious evolution. What began as a faith rooted in communal doctrine, moral certainty, and institutional authority gradually transformed into a creedless spirituality emphasizing reason, individual dignity, and social justice.

This evolution mirrors the trajectory of American society itself: a nation born in religious fervor, maturing through Enlightenment rationalism, and now navigating the complexities of pluralism and secular modernity.

Yet this progress has not come without cost. As churches like the First Parish embrace intellectual freedom and moral autonomy, they often lose the binding narratives and shared rituals that once fostered intergenerational commitment and spiritual vitality. The very principles that attract thoughtful, questioning individuals can make it difficult to sustain cohesive, enduring communities.

This tension — between the freedom of reason and the anchoring power of tradition — is not unique to religion. It echoes in the political, cultural, and social spheres of contemporary America. As the nation grapples with ideological polarization, declining civic engagement, and a crisis of meaning, the story of liberal religion offers both inspiration and caution.

In tracing the spiritual evolution of a single New England church, we glimpse the broader human quest to reconcile faith with reason, authority with freedom, and community with individual conscience. Whether this quest leads to renewal or dissolution remains an open question — one that each generation must answer anew.

Notes

About the author: Penn Shao is a first-generation Chinese American immigrant. He currently works as a manager at a high-tech company in the Greater Boston area. His interests include American history, philosophy, and cross-cultural studies.