The power of personality

In 1739, the English preacher George Whitefield arrived in Philadelphia, and Ben Franklin joined the tens of thousands to hear Whitefield’s sermon. Franklin, a life-long deist, was never swayed by Whitefield’s gospel message, but he was struck by the revivalist’s “extraordinary Influence … on his Hearers.” Listening to a later sermon, Franklin admits that even he fell under Whitefield’s sway when it came to giving money to support an orphan house in Georgia. By the end of the sermon, Franklin had emptied his pockets.

As Molly Worthen’s new book Spellbound (Forum Books, 464 pp.) demonstrates, Whitefield is just one example in a large cast of charismatic characters shaping American culture. Understanding this history can help us realize that our “own era,” however bizarre and unusual it may seem, “is not actually that special.”

For Worthen, charisma taps into something primal to human nature, “the religious impulse … a hunger for transcendent meaning and a reflex to worship.” What she means by charisma is not “celebrity” or “charm.” Instead, Worthen identifies a particularly “American charisma,” which is a relational “exchange between leader and crowd.” Spellbound combines a secular understanding of charisma, as “a leader’s uncanny authority over a crowd” with a more traditional definition of the Greek word charis, grace or favor from some higher power.

Sweeping across 400 years of American history, Worthen pulls together example after example of the intoxicating effects of charisma. Spellbound includes the well-known booming speeches of Martin Luther King Jr. and the obscure prophetic visions of Dona Beatriz. The book also moves back and forth between preachers like Jemima Wilkinson and secular leaders like President Andrew Jackson, because Worthen believes religious charisma and political charisma, although different, share a single story.

Unfortunately, Worthen’s wide variety of examples leads to an ambiguous history. Despite her detailed accounts, unfamiliar names like Ann Lee, Robert Matthews, Cora Scott, and Charles Poyen tend to blend into an amorphous, charismatic collective, defined only by five periodic categories that Worthen assigns to particular years in American history.

The first category is the Prophets, who in the 17th and 18th centuries “captivate[d] followers with the terror and ecstasy of God’s presence.” Prophets include the Puritan Anne Hutchinson and the Quaker Benjamin Lay. Then, in the late 18th century, Prophets gave way to charismatic Conquerors, like the Shawnee Chief Tecumseh and the Mormon Church founder Joseph Smith.

The 20th century, according to Worthen, witnessed three different kinds of charismatic leaders. In the first few decades, Agitators, like Huey Long and Aimee Semple McPherson, challenged “the state and … so-called progress.” Experts, in the middle of the century, were “builders” like Albert Einstein and President John F. Kennedy.

Finally, the latter half of the 20th century saw the rise of the Gurus, “preachers of self-actualization and get-enlightened-quick schemes.” This group includes the widest cast, from cultic leaders like Maharaj-ji and the self-help voices of Tom Peters and Tim Gallwey to personalities like Oprah Winfrey and President Donald Trump.

The categories help to confirm Spellbound’s assumption that political and religious charisma are inherent in American life and are destined to be united. As Worthen notes, “New Testament charisma and political charisma have a way of finding each other.” However, the only very good example of this union is the final one, President Trump, and even his religious charisma is less self-proclaimed and more imposed by religious communities around him.

Unfortunately, the categories also introduce an unhelpful reductionism into Spellbound’s narrative. Religious belief is boiled down to an “impulse to impose order on the chaos of existence and worship some ultimate meaning,” setting all belief on relatively equal footing. Also, the reductionism obscures the complexities of charisma. Thus, odd examples like Albert Einstein (an Expert) get wedged into the story, because they fit the category, while more obvious examples like Frederick Douglass and Billy Graham, two of America’s most popular preachers, are quickly glossed over.

Like Whitefield’s sermon to Franklin’s ears, Spellbound’s narrative is captivating but falls short of being convincing. The book’s forest of examples is impressive, but the forest becomes something to lead readers through rather than something to explore. And in that leading an appreciation for the nuances of charisma, in all its forms, is lost.