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In his final years, Abraham Lincoln grew convinced that God’s will played an active role in guiding the course of history. This sense of divine purpose, increasingly evident in his speeches and writings, offered him comfort and strength during the nation’s most trying period. Lincoln’s view of providence was humble and complex, shaped by doubt and a recognition of humanity’s limited grasp of divine intentions.
Lincoln’s belief that history carried meaning, direction and purpose—his “providentialism”—was most powerfully articulated in his second inaugural address. There, he acknowledged the deep suffering of the Civil War and suggested that it could be understood as divine judgment on the nation for the sin of slavery. He reflected on the possibility that the devastation of war was God’s punishment for the North and South alike, saying:
“If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him?”
For Lincoln, the Civil War became not just a military conflict but a moral reckoning for the nation. He came to see it as part of a higher moral order that necessitated the end of slavery, even at enormous cost. His belief in providence did not imply certainty about God’s will; rather, it was marked by a conviction that history held a moral purpose beyond human understanding.
In a letter to Quaker Eliza P. Gurney, who had expressed her belief that he was an instrument of God’s will, Lincoln responded with humility: “The purposes of the Almighty are perfect and must prevail, though we erring mortals may fail to accurately perceive them in advance.” This perspective encouraged him to pursue justice while accepting the limits of human understanding.
Lincoln’s faith in providence provided resilience amid profound personal and national tragedy. Viewing the war’s hardships as part of a larger divine purpose allowed him to endure the devastating loss of life with a belief that this suffering could lead to a more just nation. He framed the war as a divine consequence of slavery’s sin, finding meaning in the otherwise incomprehensible sacrifices he witnessed.
This sense of providence also guided Lincoln’s vision for reconciliation. In his second inaugural, he called for national healing “with malice toward none, with charity for all.” His emphasis on compassion stemmed from a belief that a higher plan demanded mercy and understanding, even for former enemies.
Lincoln’s providentialism provided a moral framework that strengthened his resolve and affirmed the Union’s cause as a divinely sanctioned mission. It encouraged him to press forward, believing that his actions, though costly, aligned with a greater purpose—even if that purpose was only partially revealed to him.
In a world increasingly shaped by secularism and scientific empiricism, a paradox emerges: the enduring belief that history has direction, meaning and purpose—a secularized form of providentialism. Once the realm of divine providence, this belief now finds expression in secular ideals of progress and justice.
From the Marxist vision of a classless future to liberal faith in moral progress, society clings to notions of destiny, fate and purpose, even without a traditional religious framework. Phrases like the “right side of history” and “the arc of the moral universe” suggest a collective need for coherence, narrative and moral significance in the unfolding story of humankind.
At its core, this persistence of providentialism reveals a profound human impulse: the need for a unifying story to guide both individual lives and society’s trajectory. Even in a secular age, we seek patterns, reassurance that history is more than a series of random events, but rather a journey toward justice, freedom or enlightenment.
Our enduring need to find meaning in history’s narrative persists, sustained by secular ideas that fulfill deep-seated desires for purpose, order and cosmic justice—needs that remain influential despite secular rationality’s rise.
This paradox of secular providentialism is evident in the very language we use to describe societal change. When President Obama and the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. echoed the abolitionist Theodore Parker’s words that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice,” they captured a sentiment that crosses political, philosophical and cultural lines. Although secular, it resonates with the weight of a divine promise, suggesting that justice is not only possible but inevitable.
Such rhetoric implies that humanity is engaged in a meaningful journey—even if the precise endpoint remains unseen.
Tracing this evolution from divine to secularized providentialism reveals how deeply embedded our need for moral and historical coherence remains, even as society grows increasingly skeptical of traditional religious narratives.
Secular providentialism is more than a lingering religious impulse; it unveils a human longing for order in a seemingly chaotic world. Amid rapid technological change, social upheaval and existential crises, there remains a collective hope that history will “make sense” and lead somewhere meaningful.
This secularized belief in history’s purpose serves as psychological and philosophical reassurance, counterbalancing life’s unpredictability. From philosophical inquiries into progress to social movements rallying around justice, providential thinking persists in the secular imagination, shaping how we confront present and future challenges.
In the face of threats like climate change and political polarization, many approach the future with a complex blend of despair and hope, a reflection of a belief in historical purpose. Despite secularism’s rise, the impulse to interpret history as a meaningful journey remains, suggesting that providential thinking has merely transformed, not overcome.
Despite rational skepticism, we continue to seek patterns, destinies and resolutions in history’s unfolding, illuminating how providential ideas—whether overtly religious or subtly secular—still inform our vision of the future.
In examining secular providentialism, we find that even in an age of skepticism, the human need for meaning, coherence and purpose in history is as strong as ever. Whether through ideologies of social progress, philosophical reflections on moral growth or the pursuit of justice, we cling to the idea that history is more than random events. This belief underscores our impulse to see history as a narrative—a story that not only explains the past but promises something greater, affirming our enduring yearning for purpose and direction in an evolving secular age.
Providentialism is the belief that God actively shapes human history and that his will is discernible, however faintly, in the unfolding of events. Rooted in religious traditions, especially Judaism and Christianity, providentialism interprets history as more than a random sequence of events; it suggests that, despite its apparent chaos, history is guided by a divine plan moving toward an ultimate purpose. This perspective has influenced individuals, communities and even nations, framing history as a meaningful process rather than a purely secular or material progression.
In providentialist thought, certain events are viewed as manifestations of God’s will—acts of judgment, tests of faith or expressions of divine mercy. While human agency plays a role, God’s influence is considered paramount, directing human affairs toward moral and spiritual ends. For example, early Puritans in colonial America saw their migration as a divine mission to establish a “city upon a hill,” exemplifying Christian virtue. Similarly, 19th-century abolitionists interpreted the fight against slavery as a God-driven plan for justice, viewing victories and setbacks as parts of a larger moral purpose.
Providentialism also offers people a sense of hope or purpose in adversity, transforming suffering or loss into meaningful elements of God’s overarching design. During crises such as wars, natural disasters or social upheavals, this belief can provide comfort and bolster resilience by suggesting that hardships are not arbitrary but contribute to a divine narrative.
However, providentialism faces challenges, particularly in reconciling human suffering with a benevolent God—an issue known as “theodicy.” This paradox questions why a just God would allow suffering if he is guiding history. Providentialists often interpret struggles as tests of faith, opportunities for growth or consequences of human free will, all within the bounds of a divine plan, though this tension remains central to the belief.
In modern historical scholarship, the decline of providentialism reflects a broader shift toward secular views and skepticism of narratives that ascribe purpose to human events. Yet, traces of providentialism endure, especially in political and social movements that see their missions as fulfilling a “higher purpose.” Ultimately, providentialism remains a framework for viewing history as a moral and spiritual journey, inviting believers to find, amid human ambiguity, the presence of a purposeful God.
Providentialism’s roots trace back to ancient civilizations that saw their destinies as governed by the whims of deities. However, it found systematic expression within Judeo-Christian thought. In the Hebrew Bible, events like the exodus from Egypt are depicted as divine interventions shaping the fate of God’s chosen people, embedding the idea that history unfolds under a guiding purpose.
In early Christian thought, Church fathers such as Augustine of Hippo developed providentialism further. In The City of God, Augustine argued that earthly events are part of a divine plan, progressing toward the ultimate realization of God’s kingdom. This framework interpreted history as a moral and spiritual journey under divine supervision, where worldly events, however chaotic, served a higher purpose.
Providentialism dominated medieval thought, with thinkers like Thomas Aquinas integrating Aristotelian philosophy and Christian theology to reinforce the belief that God’s rational plan governs the cosmos, including human affairs. Medieval chroniclers and historians often attributed significant events—whether victories, natural disasters or plagues—to God’s will, interpreting them as divine responses to human actions, either as rewards or punishments.
In the early modern period, providentialism influenced thinkers such as Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, who proposed that we live in “the best of all possible worlds” designed by a benevolent God. Even political theorists like Jean Bodin saw divine providence as a driving force behind the rise and fall of nations, further entrenching the view of history as moving according to a preordained purpose.
Providentialism left a lasting imprint on historical writing, as historians sought to discern divine intentions behind historical events. In American history, this outlook informed Manifest Destiny, the 19th-century belief that the United States was divinely ordained to expand across the continent. Leaders and settlers saw their actions as fulfilling God’s plan, which provided moral justification for territorial expansion, often at the expense of Indigenous populations.
Through each era, providentialism offered a way to find meaning in history, interpreting the unfolding of events as part of a purposeful, overarching narrative that continues to resonate even as secular interpretations of history have gained prominence.
Far from erasing the notion of providentialism, secularization has given rise to secular versions of this outlook, frameworks that view history as purposeful and progressive, moving toward ideals of freedom, morality, knowledge or equality. Though lacking religious or supernatural foundations, these secular theories offer meaning and direction, suggesting that history advances toward an ideal—often contingent on human action.
These secular teleologies have influenced philosophy, political theory and sociology, providing alternatives for those seeking purpose in human history. Immanuel Kant, for instance, suggested a form of secular providentialism in Idea for a Universal History From a Cosmopolitan Point of View. He argued that, despite humanity’s conflicts, we are moving toward a cosmopolitan end state of rational moral law and perpetual peace, achievable through reason and moral development. Kant envisioned a purposeful endpoint for history rooted in humanity’s ethical potential.
Enlightenment thinkers like Voltaire and Condorcet championed rational and moral progress. Condorcet’s Sketch for a Historical Picture of the Progress of the Human Spirit portrays history as an upward trajectory toward knowledge, individual freedom and social equality. While not deterministic, this view suggests humanity’s inherent capacity for improvement through reason, science and moral growth.
Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel saw history as a rational process guided by the dialectic, a clash of ideas leading to synthesis and progress. For Hegel, each epoch contributes to the unfolding of human freedom and reason, culminating in a state of rational, ethical society. Although Hegel invoked a quasi-religious “Absolute Spirit,” he did not rely on traditional theology; instead, he saw history as a progressive revelation of human freedom.
Karl Marx secularized Hegelian dialectics with historical materialism, positing that history progresses through class struggles driven by material conditions rather than divine forces. For Marx, each economic system contains inherent contradictions that lead to revolutionary change, culminating in a classless society. While secular, Marx’s theory implies a purposeful direction in history, progressing toward equality and liberation.
Auguste Comte, father of positivism, proposed that societies evolve through stages of intellectual development—moving from theological to metaphysical to scientific stages. In Comte’s view, humanity advances toward a scientifically governed society that promotes social order and progress through reason and empirical knowledge, embodying an ideal rational state that serves humanity’s welfare.
Social Darwinists, like Herbert Spencer, held that societies evolve in a manner akin to biological organisms, progressing toward greater complexity. Although not morally prescriptive, this framework suggested a natural progression toward advanced forms of social organization. While later criticized, this perspective implied that history follows a quasi-natural path of societal evolution.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest, presented a bridge between religious and secular teleologies with his concept of the omega point—a state toward which evolution propels humanity’s consciousness. At the omega point, all consciousness converges, achieving a collective, elevated state. Though infused with theological elements, Teilhard’s evolutionary language has appeal as a secular, goal-oriented view of cosmic and human development.
Francis Fukuyama, in The End of History and the Last Man, argued that liberal democracy, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, represents history’s final ideological evolution. Fukuyama suggested that liberal democracy satisfies humanity’s needs for political and economic freedom, implying a purposive historical trajectory toward this governance model as the most stable and fulfilling endpoint.
Utopian thinkers like H. G. Wells envisioned a future of rational, peaceful societies realized through science, education and global cooperation. Likewise, John Stuart Mill and other utilitarians envisioned a history advancing toward happiness, individual liberty and social progress.
Contemporary cosmopolitan thinkers like Martha Nussbaum and Amartya Sen advocate for a future that transcends national boundaries, marked by universal human rights, social justice and sustainability. Nussbaum and Sen view historical progress in terms of capabilities and human rights, suggesting a progressive, ethical direction for humanity despite avoiding deterministic language. Through these secular visions, the ancient yearning for purpose in history persists, adapting providentialism’s structure to a secular framework of justice and ethical growth.
My graduate school mentor, David Brion Davis, the eminent historian of slavery and abolition, became a providentialist later in life, despite his World War II dog tag reading N for “nothing.” Encountering the ugliest facets of human history and grappling with suffering, injustice and resilience, he began to see history as part of a larger, perhaps redemptive framework—a space where humanity’s actions gain meaning and justice becomes possible.
This providentialism reflected his growing belief that history holds an underlying purpose or moral trajectory, even without a religious foundation. His encounters with human endurance and moral courage suggested a guiding force, an ultimate purpose beyond his initial skepticism. Through his studies, he sensed patterns in human experience and, if not outright religious belief, then a philosophical conviction that history, in some sense, “leans” toward justice.
In our secular age, the persistence of providentialism speaks to a fundamental human need to find meaning in history’s arc. Davis’s journey exemplifies this need for coherence—a belief that, even in a world without overt divinity, our struggles and triumphs align with a larger purpose. The paradox of our time is that even without formal religious belief, we seek reassurance that history is more than a random series of events but a narrative with direction and perhaps, destiny.
Like Lincoln, Kant, Hegel, Theodore Parker and many others, Davis’s conviction in history’s moral arc reminds us that we cling to a secularized providentialism not from certainty but from hope: a hope that justice, though often delayed, is a force moving through time. The persistence of these beliefs underscores that, however skeptical our society becomes, we remain drawn to the idea that history, in its long arc, bends toward justice. In this quiet yet enduring faith, we find powerful assurance that humanity’s journey has weight, purpose and direction—elements that refuse to be relinquished, even amid doubt.
