By Pastor Doug Stauffer
Since the founding of the United States, military power has encompassed more than troops, weaponry or tactics. The founders believed that without virtue, armies would fail—and that faith was the foundation of virtue. For that reason, chaplains were not treated as optional morale officers or psychological aides, but as guardians of conscience, discipline and spiritual endurance.
During the Revolutionary War, the Continental Army formally appointed chaplains to preach, pray and encourage the troops. General George Washington ordered regular divine services, assigned chaplains to brigades and expected officers to attend public worship. Washington understood that soldiers unmoored from moral restraint, would eventually lose cohesion, courage and honor. Congress echoed this belief by proclaiming national days of prayer, fasting and thanksgiving, openly acknowledging that victory ultimately comes from Almighty God—not merely from military calculation.
That founding conviction stands in stark contrast to the military culture of recent years. While the armed forces must remain apolitical, they cannot afford to be morally indifferent. In recent years, immorality—sexual misconduct, abuse of authority, ethical compromise—has ended countless military careers and undermined unit readiness. Even with the most advanced technology in the world, a fighting force can still cripple itself from within when discipline and virtue erode.
The redefinition of chaplaincy by past administrations reflected this tension. Increasingly, chaplains were pressured to serve primarily as general counselors, therapeutic listeners or emotional support specialists—often stripped of their theological anchor. While mental health care is essential, the chaplain’s unique role has always been spiritual leadership grounded in faith. When faith is reduced to feelings and conscience is replaced by compliance, moral clarity suffers.
Predictably, whenever spiritual leadership becomes visible—especially in official settings, such as prayer—critics raise alarms about coercion or impropriety. Yet the Founders did not believe faith threatened liberty. They believed it restrained power. Washington warned that armies without virtue become instruments of tyranny rather than guardians of freedom.
The question is not whether soldiers of diverse beliefs deserve care—they do. The question is whether chaplaincy should be stripped of its spiritual core to satisfy modern secular sensibilities. History suggests otherwise. Moral relativism does not strengthen armies; it weakens them. Discipline does not flourish where virtue is optional.
This concern extended beyond Washington. During his presidency, John Adams called the nation to fasting and repentance, urging Americans to “call to remembrance our own sins, and implore the forgiveness of Heaven.” Adams understood what modern America often forgets: political and institutional crises often reflect deeper spiritual decay.
As America approaches her 250th year, the military’s challenge is not merely to remain lethal—but to remain just. We must fight effectively, yes. But we must also ensure we are not undermined by immorality that undermines readiness, corrodes trust and dishonors service.
The God who heard the prayers of the Continental Army has not changed. His arm is not shortened. He still calls nations—and institutions—to humility, repentance and righteousness. The question is not whether God remains faithful. The question is whether we will return to the moral foundations that once made our armed forces strong.
