This July Fourth, let’s ask God to bring a spiritual revival to our country that touches every person living here!

The Power of Righteous Living - Crosswalk Plus Video Devotional

Did the American Revolution Go Against Scripture?

Revival encourages us to embrace the full extent of our God-given potential. It compels us to do the hard work to become the best possible versions of ourselves—as individuals, as a church, and as a nation.

On an Independence Day week as significant as this year’s (America’s 250th), you’d think more Hollywood studios would have prepped patriotic fare. Alas, Angel Studios and Wonder Project’s early American period piece, Young Washington, is the only new offering for this semiquincentennial occasion. For those in the mood for a historical drama about the twentysomething years of America’s Revolutionary War hero and first president, Young Washington will likely be worth your time. It depicts the origins of a founding father in an informative and inspiring way. Still, as an American history lover and cinephile, I left Young Washington wishing it were a better film. It’s not bad. It’s just not as compelling as it should have been. Washington’s Humble Beginnings Young Washington is written and directed by Jon Erwin, fresh off the success of House of David and Jesus Revolution. But Young Washington isn’t a faith-based story. Aside from occasional dialogue about God’s providence, the film is mostly just a portrait of a great leader before he became a great leader. Aside from occasional dialogue about God’s providence, the film is mostly just a portrait of a great leader before he became a great leader. I was worried Young Washington would be hagiographic, presenting Washington as a hallowed and faultless figure. Thankfully, it isn’t. The picture of Washington that emerges is that of an ambitious, awkward, reckless, naive, sometimes annoying kid who few would have predicted would rise to the greatest heights. And that’s the point. It’s an “only in America” tale of unlikely ascent. Washington is played—curiously—by British actor William Franklyn-Miller, whose colonial Virginian accent doesn’t feel especially authentic. What Franklyn-Miller does capture well is Washington’s wide-eyed determination to defy expectations, transcend the limits of class and station, and make something of himself. A path didn’t exist for Washington to become an aristocrat or military general, but he was intent on making his own path. By studying the “rules of civility,” learning from the mentorship of his older half-brother Lawrence (John Foss), and keeping company with real aristocrats like the Fairfaxes (sometimes sneaking into their fancy parties), he worked hard at being a self-taught gentleman in a culture and system where such a thing didn’t yet exist. Prototype for the American ‘Self-Made’ Hero In this telling, young Washington is a prototype for the “self-made man” and underdog narrative that would come to define American mythology. The film takes great pains to make this clear—perhaps hammering it home too forcefully at times. The line “Even a pawn can take a king” is repeated ad nauseam, for example. And dialogue scenes like this abound: George: “I would rather die unknown than live believing the world’s measure of me is fixed.” Lawrence: “That is pride.” George: “No, that is faith in what a man can forge with his own hands.” Lawrence: “You cannot forge your way into their system.” George: “And why not?” Lawrence: “Because that is not the way the world works.” George: “Then someone should remake it!” The film’s script is better when it draws from actual Washington words, like this quip (from a letter Washington wrote later in life): “To obtain the applause of deserving men, is a heart felt satisfaction—to merit them, is my highest wish.” As elegant as the language sometimes is, Young Washington is too reliant on dialogue to convey its themes. The film is better when it shows the world Washington traversed—from Mount Vernon to the frontiers he surveyed and the Ohio River Valley battlegrounds where he cut his teeth as a military leader in the French and Indian War. The cinematography, sets, and costumes are generally impressive. The film shows the world well. The battle scenes, however, fell largely flat for me—perhaps because of how noticeably bloodless they all are (even for a PG-13 film). The climactic scene of the Battle of the Monongahela feels underwhelming considering how instrumental it was for boosting Washington’s faltering early military career. I left the movie nostalgic for the more thrilling battle scenes of The Patriot (2000) or Last of the Mohicans (1992). God-Ordained? Despite its flaws, Young Washington is a serviceable period piece with some solid performances (I particularly liked Andy Serkis as General Edward Braddock). The film demystifies Washington and shows him as simply a model American: hardscrabble, resilient, always learning and growing from setbacks. It’s interesting to see him come alive in this more relatable, not-yet-a-face-on-Rushmore way. Yet the film doesn’t shy away from positioning Washington as a God-ordained leader—a “pawn who takes a king” in the sense of God moving the pawn in a particularly strategic way on history’s chessboard. Washington’s mother (Mary-Louise Parker) suggests to him that his early military failures are wisdom from above (a “tutor sent by God”). After he heroically survives the climactic battle by dodging bullets that pierce his hat, Washington chalks up his survival to divine providence (as he did in real life). Near the end of the film, a Native American leader tells him, “Our people have a legend—a spirit of protection that shields those chosen, those who walk in destiny. The Creator chose you. You have been shielded by the spirit.” Does the movie overemphasize this idea? Perhaps. Does it feel adjacent to ideas about America as God’s favored nation? Maybe. But it might also just be giving God credit where credit is due. He does move lives on the chessboard of history—but he does it for each of us, not only future presidents or “those who walk in destiny.” God does move lives on the chessboard of history—but he does it for each of us, not just future presidents. Not all of us will be a “pawn who takes a king.” Few will be surveyors who end up having their face on a dollar bill. Few will be revolutionary war heroes. But God is still active in each of our lives, making and remaking us according to his will. In that sense, there’s no truly “self-made” man, however ingrained that idea is in the American story. Whether pawn or king, we’re all here by grace, our paths arranged by providence.