I wonder if we are the new Deists. I was thinking about that as I considered the Fourth of July ink that will be spilled again over the question of whether — and which of — our Founding Fathers were Deists and not really Christians. My dictionary calls deism religion “emphasizing morality, and…denying the interference of [God] with the laws of the universe.”

We pick on the house church of Mary mother of Mark because they had prayer meetings and then didn’t expect God to answer their prayers (Acts 12). “You’re out of your mind,” they told poor Rhoda when she said Peter had gotten out of jail and was at the door.

I’ve been to prayer meetings like that. I’m not the only one, apparently: “Prayer meetings constantly tend downward, to become either intellectualistic Bible studies or anxiety-sharing sessions where religious arguments break out. Christian people and their leaders are ready to do almost anything except get down to praying with power an authority in the name of Christ” (Outgrowing the Ingrown Church, C.John Miller).

A Deist is not just someone who calls himself a Deist. A Deist is someone who calls himself a Christian but thinks like a Deist thinks. He believes that God exercises a general benevolence from a distance. He mistrusts “enthusiasts” (18th century word) or “fanatics” (21st century word) who pray as if God is involved in every detail of his day.