With many theories about the rise of Mormonism, this article turns to early Mormonism's growth in the Delaware Valley for insights. By testing the relative wealth of the converts, this article argues that Mormon conversion was not a product of deprivation as the converts tested were somewhat wealthier than their neighbors and were drawn from across the socioeconomic spectrum. Instead of appealing to the dispossessed, Mormonism offered a radical supernatural biblical message that appealed to certain cultural and religious orientations. Mormonism was successful among Methodists in central New Jersey, whose religious practice was still full of the enthusiasm common to Methodism's early years in America. Many of these Methodists saw Mormon supernaturalism as a welcome addition to their experience, while the considerably more formal Methodists on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware were much less receptive to Mormonism. A Quaker heritage among the converts was common on both sides of the river. The converts were principally not practicing Quakers but still maintained aspects of their heritage and were, thus, termed “hickory” Quakers. Such individuals were common in the Delaware Valley since so many Quaker's had been cut off from the fold largely resulting from the mid-eighteenth-century Quaker reformation that reinstituted strict guidelines on the membership. Yet, the reformation did not reinstitute the enthusiasm of the Quakers’ early years that had been lost after its first generation. The lapsed Quakers who were drawn to Mormonism's supernatural worldview had a romantic inherited memory of Quakerism's origins and were eager to join a religion that manifested the fervor of Quakerism's origins. Thus, Mormonism was congenial to both these kinds of religious radicalism.

Thomas Jefferson and James Madison are frequently identified as the framers of the religion clauses in the First Amendment, thus making their efforts to establish religious freedom in colonial Virginia relevant to the Constitution's meaning. This interpretive approach first appeared in a Supreme Court opinion in 1878 when Chief Justice Morrison Waite applied the religion clauses to the case of a Mormon official prosecuted under a federal antipolygamy law. For historical background, Justice Waite studied books by church historians Robert Reid Howison and Robert Baylor Semple. There, he encountered narratives of the political activism of the Baptists and Presbyterians who, in conjunction with the efforts of Madison and Jefferson, were responsible for Virginia's statutory commitment to religious freedom. The Chief Justice then grafted Madison's Memorial and Remonstrance against Religious Assessments and Jefferson's now-famous “wall of separation” letter onto the Constitution's bare text, an emendation that has endured for well over a century. Church historians Semple and Howison, and the pivotal role they played in the foundation of First Amendment jurisprudence, have been essentially lost from the historiographical record of church-state relations in America, a situation this article seeks to remedy.

This essay seeks to recover the experiences of Catholics in the antebellum South by focusing on their relations with Protestants. It argues that, despite incidents of animosity, many southern Protestants accepted and supported Catholics, and Catholics integrated themselves into southern society while maintaining their distinct religious identity. Catholic–Protestant cooperation was most clear in the public spaces the two groups shared. Protestants funded Catholic churches, schools, and hospitals, while Catholics also contributed to Protestant causes. Beyond financial support, each group participated in the institutions created by the other. Catholics and Protestants worshipped in each other's churches, studied in each other's schools, and recovered or died in each other's hospitals. This essay explores a series of hypotheses for the cooperation. It argues that Protestants valued Catholic contributions to southern society; it contends that effective Catholic leaders demonstrated the compatibility of Catholicism and American ideals and institutions; and it examines Catholic attitudes towards slavery as a ground for religious harmony. Catholics proved themselves to be useful citizens, true Americans, and loyal Southerners, and their Protestant neighbors approvingly took note. Catholic–Protestant cooperation complicates the dominant historiographical view of interreligious animosity and offers a model of religious pluralism in an unexpected place and time.

There is little reckoning with the development of religions in the United States without confronting the related processes of importation and appropriation. This article explores these processes specifically as reflected in the story of the San Francisco Zen Center. Partaking of an interpretative ethos established by the nineteenth-century Transcendentalists and refined during the 1950s “Zen boom,” the architects of the SFZC's communalism shaped this complicated tradition specifically for disaffected young practitioners seeking an experiential path beyond their middleclass, Judeo-Christian backgrounds. It was during the 1983 scandals surrounding SFZC leader, Richard Baker-roshi, that many of the interpretive lacunae—specifically, a relative inattention to ethical languages—became readily apparent. This article accounts for these scandals historically (by situating them in the history of American appropriations of Buddhism and of the religious disaffection of the post-World War II period) and theoretically (by reading the SFZC's patterns of transmission and interpretation through the category “interpretative double movement). This double movement among practitioners captures the ways in which those in search of an alternative to their religious culture impose their own idiosyncratic values onto another religious tradition, all the while remaining paradoxically within the interpretive confines of the culture they hope to escape. Reading this complicated history—including both its “scandals” and their aftermaths—through such categories sheds light on the ways in which American religious exchanges are enacted and identities constructed.

This article contributes to the growing body of work on the impact of religious institutions on the identities and experiences of new immigrants from the Caribbean, Latin America, and Asia. Drawing from ethnographic research on Haitian immigrants in Boston, I find a relationship between initial residential settlement patterns and the location of Catholic churches. Following Gerald Gamm's Urban Exodus: Why Jews Left Boston and the Catholics Stayed, I argue that Haitian immigrants who arrived in Boston in the 1960s were attracted to certain neighborhoods despite the racial climate because they were Catholic. In addition to the influence of rules governing membership and religious authority, I show that Haitians turned to a Catholic narrative of their experience in Boston because being Catholic was the most acceptable way of being Haitian in that social context.

This article sheds light on the complex interactions among knowledge, power, and the body in nineteenth-century American and Catholic culture through examining a series of “miracle cures” of Catholic women that took place in Georgetown, Washington, D.C., between 1824 and 1838. It analyzes the gender and power dynamics of the cures and of the stories members of the Catholic hierarchy told about the cures, situating both within the religious and cultural context of nineteenth-century North America. The bodies of cured women were scrutinized and “read” very carefully by Catholic men as a means of access to divine knowledge, and the article explores the cultural and theological factors that legitimated this process. Finally, the reading of women's bodies took place in the context of Protestant anti-Catholicism, and I argue that, given the sympolic importance of female bodies at the time—pure, healthy female bodies “incarnated” spiritual power and truth—stories of miracle cures were a means of validating Catholicism in the face of attacks against it.

This article seeks to draw attention to an often overlooked aspect of the social gospel. Rather than explaining social gospelers as theological liberals who took an interest in social problems, as many historians have done, this essay argues that they were possessed of a unique theology, one which welded evangelical ideas of conversion and experiential Christianity with liberal postmillennial hopes. Their devotion to combating social ills should be understood, therefore, not solely as a secular commitment to social justice or a nebulous allegiance to Christian charity but also as a theological obligation tied to evangelical conversion and a repudiation of social sin, a crime as offensive to God as murder or theft. The social gospelers modeled the ideal Christian society upon that of the biblical patriarchs, one in which no distinction between the secular and sacred existed and sanctification guided the Christian's actions in the economy as well as in personal morality. That society, that postmillennial Zion, would come again when all humanity experienced a spiritual conversion and were truly born again as Christians—a transformation not limited to individual salvation but which brought with it a new understanding of the nature of Christian life.