By Nita Wilkinson, Faith Editor

As America prepares to celebrate 250 years since the Declaration of Independence, it is worth remembering that the founders' first attempt at governing themselves didn't work very well.

The Declaration proclaimed lofty truths: people possess God-given rights, governments derive their authority from the consent of the governed and human dignity matters. But the system that followed assumed people and states would cooperate for the common good. Experience quickly proved otherwise.

Following independence, many states reacted strongly against executive power. Governors were intentionally weakened and legislatures became dominant. Yet experience soon revealed another danger. Laws changed rapidly; economic interests collided and citizens often found their rights and property subject to the shifting passions of the majority. The founders were beginning to understand that liberty could be threatened not only by one ruler, but also by many pursuing their own interests.

“We have probably had too good opinion of human nature in forming our confederation,” George Washington said.

In less than a decade, the men who declared independence had discovered that proclaiming liberty was easier than preserving it. When Washington wrote these words to John Jay, he was lamenting the weakness of the Confederation.

The founders had assumed states and elected officials would willingly place the common good above their own interests. Experience was teaching them otherwise. Ambition, regional loyalties, and self-interest often outweighed cooperation.

The men who had fought a king were discovering that liberty could be threatened not only by a monarch, but also by ordinary people pursuing their own advantage.

“If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary,” James Madison noted.

Madison observed that ambition must counteract ambition. He understood that checks and balances were not merely a political invention, but an acknowledgment that no individual, institution or majority is immune from selfishness. The Constitution was designed not for angels, but for ordinary people, whose virtues and vices would always exist side by side.

Scripture offers similar examples. David was called a man after God's own heart, yet when his authority went unchecked, he abused his power and brought devastating consequences upon his own household. Even good men are not angels.

Jefferson observed that "an elective despotism was not the government we fought for." Majority rule alone, he believed, was not enough. The rights of some cannot rest solely in the hands of the many. Scripture offers a similar caution. Crowds are not always wise. Sometimes they shout "Hosanna." Sometimes they choose Barabbas.

Christians just might find Washington's confession familiar.

Scripture presents people with remarkable honesty. Kings abuse power. Crowds can be fickle. Nations forget their promises. Even faithful leaders stumble.

The Bible holds two truths in tension: human beings possess dignity because they bear God's image, yet they are also vulnerable to pride, passion and self-interest. Washington and Madison may not have framed their concerns in theological terms, but experience had taught them much the same lesson.

The Constitution reflects an understanding of human nature that Christians have long recognized, not because the founders all agreed theologically (they did not), but because experience taught them much of what Scripture has long revealed: liberty flourishes best when power is dispersed, accountability is present, and no person or majority is treated as though they were angels.

Two hundred and fifty years later, Washington's confession feels surprisingly current. We still tend to believe people will behave better than they do. We still place too much confidence in leaders, institutions, parties and sometimes even ourselves. We still need accountability. We still need restraint.

And maybe most of all, we still need the humility to admit what Madison knew, what Washington learned, and what Scripture has always revealed: we are image bearers, but we are not angels. ■