In adding yet another book to the recent historiography addressing the religious beliefs of the nations' founders, Vincent Munoz appears far more interested in early twenty-first century debates regarding the separation of Church and State than in the history of this relationship. This is not to say that Munoz's book lacks value as a work of history, only that he, like many others these days, is using history to address the present. Trespassing beyond the barriers most historians set for themselves, Munoz even suggests a policy that he acknowledges differs from the positions of each of the men whose thought he examines. But then, Munoz is not a historian, but a professor in the department of Religion and Public Life at the University of Notre Dame.

A book should be judged, in large part, on the basis of whether it fulfills the goals that the author had for it. Munoz asserts on page 3 that one of his goals is to “demonstrate” [that] the leading Founders disagreed about the meaning of religious freedom and how church and state ought to be separated.” This modest goal is certainly accomplished, but the argument has been well accepted for decades. The ideological divide between William McLaughlin's pietistic dissenters and the libertarian separationists described by Leo Pfeffer or Peter Gay has been well understood since the writings of Sidney Mead and Sydney Ahlstrom, each of whose works embrace a far larger scope than does that of Munoz. Munoz also asserts that “understanding the Founders' differences … can help us think through the proper relationship between church and state today” (207). In attempting to accomplish this goal, Munoz devotes one-third of his text to an extrapolation from the words of Washington, Jefferson, and Madison to positions that he asserts each would have taken regarding contemporary legal and political conflicts over the role of religion in society. This ahistorical extrapolation significantly compromises the author's text as a work of intellectual history.

Yet, another means of assessing a work is by the degree to which it engages the reader's mind—compelling him or her to think along with the author to explore new realms of interesting ideas. In this, Munoz succeeds. The author does a very fine job of providing synopses of the three central figures' views on the appropriate role of religion within society. Still, I found myself wanting to argue with him when his text moved from historical presentation to both historical interpretation and presentist supposition. Inciting the reader to want to argue is an accomplishment in itself. Munoz understands that the focus of both Jefferson's and Madison's arguments is natural rights—a foundation the author challenges as possibly misguided but almost certainly irrelevant as anachronistic in today's intellectual environment. Washington's focus was on the public good, and religion had a place in securing this goal. Not surprisingly, the revisiting of the three men's positions on the role of religion in society reprised the old Federalist-Republican party divide between the degree to which the new nation's citizens possessed sufficient virtue to govern themselves—without the aid of guidance from an aristocratic elite or a clergy. Munoz ignores the broader intellectual argument of the early Republic that provides the context for the discussion of religion. Just as problematic, he ignores all three of the Founders that he spends so much effort analyzing in focusing neither on rights nor on public good, but on religion itself. Munoz addresses religion as if it were itself a singular entity in need of legal support and social acceptance, rather than as amorphous assemblage of varied and oftentimes conflicting beliefs, values, and judgments. Clearly, Munoz envisions religion in America as a strangely monolithic Christianity and, as he notes repeatedly in his conclusion, seeks a form of public policy today that is “good for religion.”