Abstract
The Enlightenment and Original Sin is a work of intellectual history that uses a micro-historical study of an ordinary person to weigh in on debates about the nature and content of the Enlightenment. It oscillates between a bird’s-eye vantage and detailed primary source work with fluidity and vigor, aided by an impressive range of quotations from major figures within the time period surveyed (roughly the 17th and 18th centuries).
This all adds up to the book’s central claim: that contestation of the doctrine of original sin was central to the concerns of Enlightenment thinkers. “Enlightenment modernity,” we read, “rested on the rejection of doctrinal original sin” (174). It is a serious and worthwhile claim, but I was not entirely convinced in the end. Two main reasons stood in the way.
First, it was never fully explained how debates over original sin applied especially and uniquely to the Enlightenment. By contrast, was the doctrine of sin not also at the heart of Reformation-era debates? And perhaps also the late Medieval debates that led to the Reformation? If so, when did the Enlightenment begin? Alternative framings of the conversation were underexplored and never systematically addressed. The same applies to the selection of figures who count as Enlightenment figures. Those figures who might be summoned to contradict or nuance the central claim of this work were often sifted out in advance as “Augustinians,” thus potentially skewing the book’s findings.
Second, the treatment of the doctrine of original sin was imprecise at times. For example, sometimes original sin was straightforwardly identified with the doctrine of total depravity, sometimes merely with the idea that no merit could lead to salvation, and sometimes it was associated with the idea that most humans were bound for damnation. Entire theological traditions are marked by the ways they combine assent and dissent to these distinct ideas. The absence of recognition of this fact made the central claim hard to accept without significant qualification. Moreover, it complicates the idea of the simple rejection of original sin, since most theological traditions already reject or qualify one or more of the above claims.
This is not to say that this book was without its merits or its charms. In fact, a more modest and granular version of its thesis is probably on to something and, most importantly, has, as the author contends, probably been lost to view over recent history. This book does right to remind us that theological doctrines drove intellectual debate and societal change. Theologians, as much as historians, are well-reminded by it to pay heed to the theology that drove the Enlightenment and to notice how important that theology was even to ordinary folk. The Enlightenment and Original Sin deserves to be read by anyone who has forgotten these lessons.