A Great Awakening: When Revival, Liberty, and the Gospel Meet

My wife and I recently watched A Great Awakening, the 2026 historical drama centered on the friendship between George Whitefield and Benjamin Franklin. The film is ambitious, striving to tell the story of the First Great Awakening, Whitefield’s preaching, Franklin’s fascination with him, and the relationship between religious awakening and the birth of the American republic. There is much here for Believers to appreciate and there's much that deserves careful discernment.

The film’s own description gives the central idea: Whitefield proclaims “liberty in Christ,” while Franklin comes to see that liberty must be “awakened in the hearts of the people.” That is a compelling premise. But it raises an important question: What kind of liberty? What kind of awakening? And ultimately, what kind of kingdom? For Believers, those questions cannot be answered merely by historical sentiment. They must be answered by Scripture.

Whitefield: A Preacher Worth Remembering

The strongest part of A Great Awakening is undoubtedly its portrayal of George Whitefield.

Whitefield was extraordinary. His preaching was dramatic, urgent, emotional, and intensely evangelistic. He preached outdoors to enormous crowds and traveled extensively throughout the colonies. His first major American preaching tour, from 1739–1740, established him as perhaps the foremost preacher of the First Great Awakening.

Contemporary accounts testify to the extraordinary effect of his preaching. He memorized sermons, preached without notes, varied his voice dramatically, and sometimes wept as he pleaded with sinners. The film captures that Whitefield believed people desperately needed Christ.

His preaching centered particularly on the necessity of the new birth. That emphasis was thoroughly biblical. Jesus told Nicodemus, “Unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). Whitefield understood that Christianity was not merely church attendance, moral improvement, or inherited religious identity. A person must be regenerated by God. That is a message the contemporary church desperately needs.

The First Great Awakening was also a genuine historical phenomenon, though historians continue to debate precisely how it should be defined and measured. Whitefield was unquestionably one of its most significant figures. At the same time, a movie is not a documentary. It necessarily compresses events, combines characters and conversations, and interprets historical developments through a particular narrative. We should therefore distinguish Whitefield the historical preacher from Whitefield the cinematic character.

The real Whitefield was more complicated than any two-hour film can communicate. Yet the film deserves credit for reminding us that Christian preaching is not ultimately about the preacher's charisma. It is about calling sinners to Christ. Paul's ministry provides the standard: “We preach Christ crucified” (1 Corinthians 1:23). The preacher is not the savior. The emotional response is not the savior. The crowd is not the savior. Christ is.

Benjamin Franklin: Admiration Is Not Conversion

This is where I found the film considerably more troubling. Franklin's friendship with Whitefield was real. Franklin printed Whitefield's sermons and promoted his preaching. His own writings demonstrate genuine fascination with Whitefield's effectiveness and the religious movement surrounding him. But Franklin's religious convictions are considerably more complicated than the category “Christian” suggests.

Historians have long debated Franklin's precise religious development. He expressed belief in God, providence, and morality and retained significant interest in Christianity. But he also articulated Deistic convictions and was famously resistant to orthodox Christianity's supernatural and doctrinal claims. Modern scholarship continues to debate whether and how his views developed over his lifetime.

Belief in God is not the same thing as biblical Christianity.

James tells us that even demons believe that God exists (James 2:19). Christianity is not simply belief in a Creator, morality, providence, or admiration for Jesus. The gospel announces that the eternal Son of God became flesh, died for sinners, rose bodily from the dead, and reigns as Lord. Paul's summary is remarkably precise:

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”—Romans 10:9

We should therefore resist two opposite errors. We should not caricature Franklin as though he were an atheist who hated Christianity. He wasn't. But neither should we retroactively baptize Franklin because he admired Whitefield, supported religious causes, or believed in God. Respect for Christianity is not repentance. Admiration of a preacher is not faith in Christ. Religious morality is not regeneration. That distinction is essential.

Is This Christian Nationalism?

The film also raises a more contemporary concern: the relationship between Christianity and American identity. I would be careful here. The movie is not simply a crude political manifesto. It does something historically legitimate by showing that religious convictions influenced colonial culture and that Whitefield's preaching intersected with developing ideas about liberty and public life. Christians should not pretend that faith has no cultural consequences.

Jesus says we are salt and light (Matthew 5:13–16). Christians should pursue justice, love their neighbors, defend human dignity, serve the common good, and speak truth to power. Jeremiah's instruction to God's exiled people—“seek the welfare of the city” (Jeremiah 29:7)—reminds us that God's people should be a blessing wherever God places them.

But there is a difference between Christian influence upon a culture and the identification of Christianity with a nation. Contemporary scholarship generally describes Christian nationalism as a political ideology seeking some form of fusion or privileged relationship between American national identity and Christianity.

That is fundamentally different from saying:

• Christians should love their neighbors.

• Christians may participate in politics.

• Christian convictions should inform public ethical reasoning.

• God providentially governs history.

• Christians can be grateful for America's religious heritage.

None of those things, by themselves, constitutes Christian nationalism. The theological problem comes when America becomes a kind of redemptive project. Scripture never identifies the kingdom of God with Israel, Rome, America, or any other earthly nation. Jesus explicitly told Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). Revelation 7:9 gives us the beautiful picture of the redeemed gathered “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.”

The church is therefore an international people before it is an American people. We can love America without believing America is the kingdom. We can be grateful for America's blessings without imagining that America occupies a unique redemptive place in God's plan. We can appreciate the role Christianity played in American history without turning American history into Christian salvation history.

What Does “Awakening” Actually Mean?

This may be the most important theological question raised by the film. The Bible certainly teaches that God brings spiritual awakening. But Scripture's category is not primarily national enthusiasm. It is regeneration and repentance.

Paul describes conversion as being made alive when we were dead in trespasses and sins (Ephesians 2:1–5). Jesus describes salvation as being born again (John 3:3–8). Peter calls people to repentance and faith (Acts 2:38). The Thessalonians demonstrate genuine conversion by turning “to God from idols to serve the living and true God” (1 Thessalonians 1:9). Biblical awakening therefore produces changed people. It produces repentance. It produces faith. It produces holiness. It produces love. It produces perseverance. It produces people who increasingly treasure Christ.

This is why revival cannot ultimately be measured by crowd size, cultural excitement, political consequences, emotional intensity, or even widespread religious interest. Jesus warned that there would be people who enthusiastically identify with him while never truly knowing him (Matthew 7:21–23). The question is not simply, “Did something happen?” The question is, “What did God produce?”

The Danger of Confusing Cultural Christianity with Conversion

This is perhaps the film's greatest weakness. There is a persistent temptation—especially when Christians look back at previous generations—to confuse a culture saturated with Christian language with a culture transformed by Christ. But Christianity is not a civilization. It is not an aesthetic. It is not American heritage. It is not traditional morality. It is not political conservatism. It is not nostalgia for a supposedly better past. Christianity is reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ.

Paul says that God “through Christ reconciled us to himself” (2 Corinthians 5:18). That is the heart of the gospel. The church's mission is therefore not to recreate a particular historical moment. Jesus commissioned his disciples to “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19–20). That is a much bigger mission. And it is a much better hope.

What I Appreciate About the Film

Despite these concerns, I do not want to dismiss A Great Awakening. I appreciated its willingness to take Christian faith seriously. I appreciated seeing Whitefield's evangelistic urgency portrayed on screen. I appreciated the reminder that Christianity has shaped Western history in profound ways. And I appreciated the film's emphasis on the importance of spiritual transformation rather than merely external freedom. Those are worthwhile themes.

The film may also prompt conversations that the church ought to be having. Who is Jesus? What does it mean to be converted? What is genuine revival? Can a nation be “Christian”? What is the relationship between the church and the state? What does Christian faith actually contribute to public life? Those are excellent questions. But Christians should not allow a movie to answer them for us. We must take those questions back to Scripture.

A Better Story

There is an irony in A Great Awakening that I found both fascinating and frustrating. The real story of the Great Awakening is ultimately much bigger than America. It is about sinners who need to be born again. It is about the Holy Spirit applying the work of Christ. It is about the Word of God awakening dead hearts. It is about repentance and faith. It is about Christ building his church. And it is about the advance of a kingdom that cannot be identified with any earthly nation.

Whitefield's greatest contribution was not helping create an American identity. It was proclaiming Christ. That is why Hebrews 12:28–29 gives us a better vision: “We are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.” America can be shaken. Political movements can be shaken. Cultures can be shaken. Church institutions can be shaken. But Christ's kingdom cannot be shaken. And that is where the church's hope must remain.

Final Takeaway

A Great Awakening is worth watching precisely because it gives Christians an opportunity to think carefully. Appreciate what it gets right. Learn from its portrayal of Whitefield. Be grateful for the ways Christianity has influenced our history. Enjoy the story of an unlikely friendship. But test the movie's theology.

Do not confuse admiration for Christ with faith in Christ. Do not confuse cultural Christianity with conversion. Do not confuse patriotism with discipleship. Do not confuse providence with nationalism. And do not confuse an American awakening with the kingdom of God.

We should be grateful for genuine gospel awakening wherever God gives it, but our hope must never rest in a nation, political movement, cultural moment, or Christianized version of history. Our hope is Christ and His kingdom.