All language subtitles for +A.Great.Awakening.2026

Order!

Yes! But at what cost?

I refuse that you--

I would rather submit to a monarch

than to such a fate.

You cannot admit to the doctrine, Mr. Martin,

that when these colonies became independent from Britain,

that they became independent from each other.

And when this country declared independence,

we did so not individually, but unitedly!

- I agree.

And I would hope to appease

the interests of the small states

by assuring them

they would be safer within the union

than they would to be separated from it.

Is it to be thought,

Mr. Hamilton, that the people of America,

so watchful over their interests,

so jealous of their liberties,

would surrender both their sword and their purse

to one body of government?

They never will.

They never ought.

So, Mason moves for anarchy.

Better than your federal tyranny, Hamilton.

Hear, hear.

Order.

The survival of this country

- must be our chief concern. - Yes!

- Yes.

If the British were to attack again,

and I remind you, they have six armed forts

west and north of us,

we have no authority to raise an army to fight.

And even if we did,

we don't have money to pay the soldiers.

The paper money commissioned by Congress

and printed by Dr. Franklin and others

is essentially worthless.

Its best function is accomplished in the privy.

And why does the convention's patriarch

remain so tight-lipped?

Hmm?

Ah, yes. Well...

I believe, Mr. Hamilton, that...

he that speaks much

is much mistaken.

- Order.

Order.

Benjamin, wait for me!

Benjamin, wait for me!

Papa is gonna be angry.

Papa doesn't need to know.

So don't tell him.

Thank you, my little friend.

Late again.

Wet again.

Sorry, Father.

So, did you make it across the lake?

Who told you?

One tiny candle illuminates a thousand.

- Janey!

I realize candle making

does not stir your imagination, Benjamin,

but its service brings light to darkened households

and warmth to cold souls.

5, 10, 15,

16, 17 candles,

one for each of my children.

You are my tenth son.

Do you know why that makes you special?

You are my tithe,

separated from your brothers and sisters

as an offering to the Lord.

This is why I nearly went broke

- sending you to that school. - I hated it.

Yet you were first in your class.

God's hand is upon you, and...

I believe he has called you,

Benjamin Franklin, to be a preacher.

I don't wanna be a preacher, Pa.

- Preachers are boring. - Preachers are not boring.

Then why do you fall asleep at every Sunday meeting?

They give conclusions with no evidence.

No evidence?

They're halfwits.

Benjamin!

I just don't want to be stuck behind a pulpit

reading what other people wrote.

I know.

You want to be the one who does the writing.

Yes.

Your brother James paid me a visit this morning.

He said he could use your help at his print shop.

He did?

I'd miss you.

But you have my blessing.

I'm gonna do good things, Pa. Great things.

I know you will, son.

But in all of your doing good,

don't allow the sun to set on your faith.

Oh, and you're still my tithe.

- My offering to God.

Can't change that.

Order.

Order.

- If I may. - The chair recognizes

Mr. James Madison as today's final remarks.

I affirm the sentiments made earlier,

that if we do not soon find stability

within this convention,

all our efforts will be disgraced,

and the liberty we fought so hard to gain

lost among ourselves and posterity forever.

Now, I've scoured ancient governments to exhaustion,

and I find it probable that we right now are erecting a plan

which will forever decide the fate

of democratic government for mankind.

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

This convention cannot fail, gentlemen.

Although we have not been agreeable on much,

I think we can at least agree on that.

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

I motion to adjourn.

Second.

Adjourned.

General, I'm curious of something.

That sun at the top of your chair,

is it rising or setting?

When my uncle Peyton presided over

the First Continental Congress,

he used to tell stories of how they'd gather to pray

as an assembly.

But that was a different time.

Hey, hey, your money's no good here.

I can't buy bread. Fix it.

Grandfather.

Thank you for your kind service, gentlemen.

Have I told you who this young man is?

This is Benjamin Franklin Bache, Lightning Rod Junior.

- Junior. - Ah.

- Lightning Rod Junior.

Come now, father.

You can be proud of Benny.

He hasn't stopped all day, even to eat.

Well, I'd rather go to bed without dinner...

Than to rise in debt.

Says the man who claims a home is not a home

unless it has food.

Come, Eliza.

I was hoping you'd see my progress before going home.

Benny,

the print shop is my home.

Well, you made more progress in one week

than we have in five.

Another fruitful day?

Ah, if one judges a tree by its fruit,

the convention is a thorn bush and more painful than my gout.

Your press and typesets arrived this morning.

Oh.

Well...

I think I've told every story I could possibly tell with them.

They're yours.

You've already given me so much.

Uh, y-you built me a print shop

in front of your house.

I needed a first line of defense against unwanted visitors.

Guests, like fish, begin to smell after a few days.

How long will this convention last?

However long it takes 13 architects

to build a structure that stands.

Rhode Island,

whom I shall forever now refer to as Rogue Island,

is not even present,

but I suppose they're at liberty not to be.

Everyone seems to be at liberty to do whatever they want.

A word that once bound us together

is now being used to divide us.

What happens if it fails?

Then we have failed them.

Another storm rolling in.

Ever since the Great Boston Fire,

every thunderclap and distant flash

ignites an inferno of fear.

Soothe or stoke?

I'm sorry?

Well, you sound like a printer

who's just found his first headline.

Really?

Now, you can soothe them with something like,

"A supernatural providence shall rain down from heaven,

quenching the flames and saving the City of Brotherly Love."

- Or? - Or...

you can strike fear into them.

"Judgment has come.

Philadelphia is one lightning strike away

- from a pile of ash."

With those letters, you can do either one.

Both sell papers, Benny.

And which would you choose?

Ah,

fetch me my chest over there.

Of all your pen names,

which ones were soothers and which ones were stokers?

That depends on who you ask.

Oh, we have Martha Careful,

- uh, Harry Meanwell. - Mm.

Oh, of course, Poor Richard.

Ah, my old friends.

Ah.

Hmm.

More true now than ever.

Whose are these?

"November 8th, 1739,

The Reverend George Whitefield has arrived from England

to awaken the colonies."

George Whitefield?

Whitefield.

It's George Whitefield.

Was he soothe or stoke?

Yes.

"From my infancy 'til my being for a time

at the University of Oxford," section one.

Why do you have his journals?

He was an old friend.

You were friends with a preacher?

Is he still alive?

Was he part of the revolution?

Grandfather?

Benny...

George Whitefield was the revolution.

Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

Is it not monstrous that this player here

but in a fiction, in a dream of passion...

Leavin' others to do all the work again.

But this is where Hamlet wishes he were an actor.

Like you,

hiding behind masks.

I'm a better actor than all of 'em.

Got your mom convinced anyway.

Smile, Georgie.

- Clean it up.

Use your hands!

An actor's gotta use his hands!

Someday, you'll be up there, son.

He would drown the stage with tears.

- The play is the thing... - Someday.

...wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king!

Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

From here, Georgie.

The power is not here, but here.

Again.

Oh!

No, again.

Oh!

Yes, yes! That's it, Georgie!

Did you feel that?

Yes, I did.

Now, the whole line, just like that.

Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

Tears in his eyes.

Distraction in's aspect.

A broken voice.

His whole function suiting with forms to his own conceit.

And all for nothing.

Oh, what would he do,

had he the motive and the cue for passion that I have!

He would drown the stage with tears.

He would cleave the general ear with horrid speech.

Make mad the guilty and appall the free.

Confound the ignorant and amaze indeed.

The play's the thing

wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

Bravo.

Catch the conscience of the king and the heart of his mum.

You are good enough to be on any stage in London.

Uh, not with this eye and a poor man's accent.

Well, if not the stage, perhaps the pulpit then.

Mum.

But your voice.

Trapped behind a dusty pulpit wearing an itchy wig?

- Oh, uh. - Never.

Actors make people feel something.

Preachers just put 'em to sleep.

- "Oh, God.

Make speed to save us."

"Oh, Lord. Make haste to help us."

A character actor too, I see.

That's all I'll ever be, Mr. Burton.

Use it.

Act the truth.

Use everything life throws at you.

There.

Now I've given you all my secrets.

This is...

You've written notes on every page. I...

- I can't take this. - Consider it mandatory reading

before attending Oxford this fall.

Elizabeth,

I would give 100 guineas

if I could only say, "O",

as effectively as your son says, "O".

He is...

extraordinary,

and he needs further training

in diction, interpretation, rhetoric.

Oxford will provide him all this and more.

His stepfather ran away and took everything.

Uh, we could never afford it.

He would go as a servitor

to serve the more, shall I say, privileged students.

You would receive the same level of education

provided you look after their affairs,

carrying their books, serving them meals.

Clearly, you're no stranger to such tasks.

All you need is a recommendation from an Oxford alumnus.

Well, we don't know an Oxford alumnus.

They're expecting you for the fall term.

Remember the source of your power.

When the moment comes,

let 'em have it, George.

O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

What would he do had he the motive

and the cue for passion that I have?

How will you get along without me?

You... were always meant for bigger stages.

I love you, Mum.

I love you, son.

Already served me, poor chap.

Why don't you move your good eyeball

to the other side of your face?

Idgit, where's my cake?

All right, lads. That's enough.

No, Seward.

I don't think it is.

Excuse me, Dr. Squintum.

I say, Dr. Squintum!

Now that is perfect.

Gentlemen of the assembly,

I would like to introduce to you, Dr. Squintum!

Squintum! Squintum!

Enough! That's enough!

- Squintum... - Oh, look, lads.

William fancies himself a hero.

- Oh. - So, go on, hero, stand up.

Oh, that's right, you already are.

Oi, Silver Spoon!

Go ahead. Have a go at the one-eyed servant.

I can take it, but you turn and eat one of your own?

You lot are nothing but a nest of spiders.

You got nothing of worth, except your daddy's money.

He at least has some heart!

Thank you, Dr. Squintum

for that scholarly and erudite diagnosis.

Are you finished?

I am.

I think me stomach is full.

Oh!

Clean it up.

Oh.

Enjoy.

- Oops.

Uh, uh, I've got it.

Don't mess up your gentleman's clothes.

Silver Spoon.

Nest of spiders.

Fools dressed like princes.

Hmm.

I'm sorry for how they've been treating you.

Huh, I can't say I'm not used to it.

Name's William.

Seward.

- Dr. Squintum.

Who are they?

The Holy Club.

Bible moths,

but they seem harmless enough.

Just be obliging. They'll leave soon enough.

- Excuse me. - Afternoon, gentlemen.

Uh, nothing here for you to do.

Uh, are you the one who polished our shoes yesterday?

Uh, likely. Yeah.

We wish to return the favor.

My name is John Wesley.

This is my brother, Charles.

God be with you.

You're, uh, a bunch of radicals?

We're Christians.

And if we're radical, it's in our love for God

and for people.

Oh, uh, what's this?

The Lord whom we serve sees you

and has prompted us to serve you.

Please sit.

We're all equal in God's eyes,

whether you're a-- a gentleman commoner

or a servitor with cake on his shoes.

Liberty, all men created equal,

sounds like the cry of the revolution.

Section one.

Section two.

Dear Mum, my studies are going well.

My elocution is much improved.

More importantly,

there has been a shift in my misfortunes.

The kindest group of men I've ever met

invited me into their society called, "The Holy Club".

We study the holy scriptures, pray, meet for worship,

and bring food and clothing to the poor.

Yesterday, while visiting with prisoners,

I was strangely warmed.

- Hallelujah. Praise God. - John...

shouldn't we read the Bible to them?

We're being the hands and feet of Christ.

Merciful Jesus...

The hands and feet?

Blessed be His name...

What about his voice?

The Word of God.

I admire your zeal,

but there are hundreds of prisoners here.

Reading Scripture to each one would take hours.

Not one at a time, all at once.

All at once?

And how do you suggest we do that?

From here.

- Bless the Lord.

A reading from the Word of God,

the Book of John, naturally.

"Nicodemus, the Pharisee, came to Jesus at night

and said unto him,

'We know you are a teacher who comes from God,

but no one could perform the signs you are doing

unless God was with him.'

Jesus replied, 'Truly I tell you,

no one can see the Kingdom of God

unless they are born again.'

Nicodemus asked, "How can this be?

How can someone enter a second time

into their mother's womb to be born?'

And Jesus answered, 'Very truly I tell you,

flesh gives birth to flesh,

but the spirit gives birth to spirit.'"

"You should not be surprised at my saying,

'You must be born again.'

The wind blows wherever it pleases.

You hear its sound,

but you cannot tell where it comes from

or where it is going.

So it is with everyone born of the Spirit...

For God so loved the world..."

God so loved each of you.

He loved.

"He gave His only Son...

that whosoever should believe in Him

and call upon His name

should not perish in their sins...

but have eternal life."

He did not come to condemn us.

He loves us.

He loves us.

Is there any water?

Please, get him some water.

What are you doing, George?

The same thing you did for me.

Do you believe the words I just read?

Yes.

So do I.

Do you want to know this Jesus?

Yes.

So do I.

I'm not leaving until all the feet

of every prisoner have been washed.

G-George, that-that will take--

All day and all night, I know.

You did it for me, I will do it for them,

alone if I must.

You won't be alone in this work.

It's all right. Lean into the light.

Mum, can you believe it?

Me.

I don't know whether to laugh at myself or weep

when I confess that I no longer wish to be an actor,

but a preacher.

The pulpit will be my stage.

If, as an actor, I can make fiction believable,

imagine what could happen

if I speak the truth from my heart.

I have been meditating upon Psalm 139 every day,

"Lord, search my heart.

See if there is any offensive way in me

and lead me in the way everlasting."

I will pray more than any other.

I will fast more than any other.

I will make my Heavenly Father proud.

You will not hear from me for a while,

as I am entering into a time of fasting,

a rejection of all earthly pleasures.

I love you, Mum.

Your God-fearing son, Georgie.

George!

George, you must leave your room and get some fresh air!

Bathe!

George! You haven't eaten for nearly a month.

Hm. So much for my first line of defense.

Uh, General Washington, sir.

Dr. Franklin, do not stand for my sake.

General, please come inside.

Eliza, gather the dishes.

The storm will arrive at any moment.

It's already here.

Oh. May I get you tea or coffee, sir?

No, you are very kind, but I will not be long.

Good night then.

Young man,

if you wouldn't mind, I wish for you to stay.

This concerns you.

Yes, sir.

Thank you for accommodating

my sudden intrusion.

I've just returned from a brief trip

to an old familiar valley

18 miles from here.

Valley Forge.

It's beautiful and thriving now.

Ten years ago,

- it was our Gethsemane.

Men marching through ice and snow without shoes,

their path traced by the blood from their feet.

Without clothes to cover their nakedness,

without blankets to lie on.

Enduring endless nights,

desperate for the sun to break over the horizon.

I was certain Valley Forge would be the darkest valley

we ever walked through as a nation.

And I was wrong.

Today, we stand in an even darker valley, Ben.

We planted a tree that has been watered

by the blood of patriots.

We did not plant it for ourselves.

We planted it for him,

and his children, and their children

that they may have shelter under its branches.

The tree we planted has hardly grown,

and already each state has taken an ax to its trunk.

If the disunity within the states continues,

if this convention fails,

the sacrifice of those men at Valley Forge,

and so many others, will be in vain.

Now, Ben,

I greatly admire that you have been quick to listen

and slow to speak,

but that tree we planted is about to fall.

This great experiment needs you, Ben.

I need you.

We cannot let the sun set on this nation.

Grandfather?

Keep reading.

George! You haven't eaten for nearly a month!

Lord, search my heart.

See if there is any offensive way in me.

What has happened to you?

I must crucify my flesh, John.

George!

This is not holiness.

This is madness!

George!

Search me.

Search my heart.

Why isn't this working?

George!

George!

George!

Keep him fed.

He cannot afford to lose another pound.

Had you not intervened,

he would most certainly have died.

Thank you, Doctor.

Why did you get in the way?

Because you're killing yourself.

I would rather die

and be in His Holy Presence

than go on living in this unholy body.

You have been deceived by Satan.

You are feasting on a lie.

I am focusing on God.

You are focusing on yourself.

- How dare you, John. - How dare you, George!

Insulting the Heavenly Father in this way!

I am making Him proud of me.

Making Him proud of you?

When Jesus emerged from the water after He was baptized,

what did His Heavenly Father say to Him?

Well, go on, you know the scripture.

"This is my beloved Son."

What else?

"In whom I am well pleased."

"In whom I am well pleased."

Did Jesus perform any mighty works

before that moment?

Not a single one.

So, why then was His Father so proud?

Because He was His Son.

Because He loved His child.

Don't you see?

It's not you, it's-- it's Christ in you!

You must either receive it as a gift

or reject it altogether.

So choose, George.

You are George Whitefield,

in whom the Lord is well pleased.

Speak from the Word

In lightning speak.

Cry out and thunder from the Word.

Your great-grandfather owned a candle shop.

I worked there as a boy.

He used to say...

"One tiny candle illuminates a thousand."

Hmm. What do you mean?

I mean,

the Church of England was not ready

for an awakened Reverend George Whitefield.

Spare thou them, O God,

restore thou those that are penitent,

that we may live hereafter a godly and sober life

to the glory of Thy holy name.

O God, make speed to save us.

O Lord, make haste to help us.

Amen.

The congregation has grown quite large,

presumably in anticipation of our guest speaker

who has excited many of late

and created not a little following for himself.

I'm very sorry to see you here, Mr. Whitefield.

So, without further ado...

So is the devil.

...the Reverend George Whitefield.

Adjust your wig, Mr. Whitefield.

In 1675, the Archbishop of Canterbury

became acquainted with a certain actor of some renown,

Mr. Betterton.

One day, the archbishop said, "Mr. Betterton, pray, tell me,

how is it that you actors on the stage

can so move your audiences

whilst speaking of things imaginary,

while we, in the pulpit, speak of things real,

which our congregations receive

as if they were but imaginary things?"

"Why, my lord," Mr. Betterton replied,

"The answer is quite plain.

We actors speak of things imaginary as if they were real,

while you, in the pulpit,

speak of things real as if they were imaginary."

- Therefore...

I will not be a velvet-mouthed preacher.

Do not be deceived!

You may have a religious head

and yet have the devil in your heart!

Our Lord speaks the same words to you

as surely as He spoke them to Nicodemus of old,

"You must be born again!"

Nicodemus, respected, religious,

renowned as righteous, and still the Master commanded,

"You must be born again!"

Like the church at Sardis,

he had a reputation for being alive,

and yet was dead inside.

How many of our congregations are dead,

because they have dead men preaching to them?

How can dead men beget living children?

Therefore, Christ says to you, "Because you are lukewarm,

neither hot nor cold,

I'm about to spit you out of my mouth!"

Do not trust in your good works for salvation,

or that your name is written in the church registry.

I tell you, there is only one book

where your name must be written,

and that is the Lamb's Book of Life!

Is your name written there?

- Is it there? - Yes!

- Do you know? - Yes!

Stop this!

Come! Come!

Come just as you are to Christ!

For in Him,

there is neither religious nor irreligious,

slave nor free, male nor female!

All are one in Christ Jesus!

Rebuke this riotous crowd immediately!

Stop this!

I know not what sorcery

or witchcraft you invoked today,

but it will not be tolerated in my house of God!

Your house of God?

You are banned from preaching

in His Majesty King George's church again!

If I cannot preach inside,

then I will go outside into the streets

and the fields to the orphans, the slaves, the widows--

And compel them to come into the house

of the one true king, Jesus Christ!

It is prohibited for an Anglican minister

to-- to preach outside to the ignorant masses!

I will see you defrocked as an Anglican minister!

Blind guides!

Let the dead preach to the dead.

But I will proclaim freedom in Christ to all who believe,

and the gates of Hell will not prevail!

Get out!

Amen. Amen.

Amen.

Yah!

Fastest pulpit on four legs.

Let's try something new.

Hey, now go.

Stop starin', you rat!

What's this?

A priest with a pulpit but no church?

You come to look down on us, Priest?

It's for the crowd.

The crowd?

It's for the crowd, he says!

Did you know that Jesus said,

"Let the children come to me,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven"?

You're not wanted here.

No, but needed.

I told you to go!

- Now, go!

Must I tell you of the bitter fruit

of the deeds of darkness?

Nay, I think not...

For I see you to be as I was

acquainted with grief, with lack,

with unrelenting sorrow in your soul,

ever anxious and fearful of what may happen.

Longing to be pure...

but hopelessly defiled...

then fly!

Fly, my brothers!

Fly for your lives to Jesus Christ!

Fly to the bleeding god!

Fly to the throne of mercy

and beg Him,

beg Him to break your heart!

Beg Him to show you your sin!

Beg Him to give you faith to close with Christ!

For He too, was a man of sorrows,

acquainted with grief.

Awake, oh sleeper!

Arise from the dead!

Can you hear him calling as Lazarus did?

Buried deep in the earth!

Darkness all around!

Arise!

Arise!

Come forth!

- What was that? - Shh.

Listen.

In the beginning,

darkness covered the face of the deep.

And the voice of the ancient of days called forth,

"Let there be light!"

And in the fullness of time...

Christ proclaimed for all the world to know...

"I am the light of life.

If anyone follows me,

he will never walk in darkness...

but will have the light of life."

Though your sins are black as coal...

His blood will wash you white as snow.

He knows you.

And He loves you.

He won't have me.

He created you.

My-- my children.

My children, forgive me.

Forgive me.

Will you surrender your life to Christ

as this man has done?

Yes.

Will you trust him?

Yes.

Will you let His blood seep into your hardened heart

and transform you from the inside out?

- Yes. - Will you trust Him?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

- Thank you, Father. - Thank you, Jesus.

The people embraced him.

The Church of England did not.

And not only did they kick him out of their parishes,

they kicked him out of their country.

Well, where did he go?

Arriving from England, the Reverend George Whitefield

to preach repentance in New York,

Pennsylvania,

Massachusetts, Rhode Island.

Arriving from England, the Reverend George Whitefield.

- Sir! - Not even a good morning,

young lady?

Father, Mr. Franklin, a reverend named George--

Whitefield, yes, I am aware of him

and his departure from England for our colonies.

He's been drawing tremendous crowds.

- Crowds as large as-- - 25,000.

You know, since my youth,

I have struggled to believe that a single voice,

say that of an army general,

could be heard by thousands of his soldiers

without significant aid in volume amplification.

Yes, sir. Anyway, he--

Now, I am not doubting

Whitefield's skill as a powerful orator.

I am doubting, however, the unfounded claim

that he can be heard and understood by so many.

There's simply not enough data to support such a claim.

And without evidence, I won't believe it.

You don't believe the stories from London are true?

I believe that fish grow larger as they cross the Atlantic.

Hmm. But fish tale or not,

religion sells papers.

And printers all over the colonies, myself included,

have already made a profit from this English preacher.

So we shall see how long the Pennsylvania Gazette

can ride the Whitefield wave.

What is the matter with the three of you?

Reverend Whitefield is... is here.

Here? As in?

- Philadelphia, sir. - When?

Now.

Well, why didn't you say so, girl?

Make way!

Excuse me.

Please, sir.

What is that balcony right there?

Uh, the courthouse.

That's the place. Thank you, sir.

- God be with you.

I guess we're about to find out how big this fish really is.

The spirit of the Lord is here, George.

Their hearts are ready.

Are you?

Father, tear down the name of Whitefield

if it means Your name remains.

Amen.

Amen.

That's him!

Welcome to Philadelphia, Reverend!

Bless you, Reverend!

The spirit of the Lord is upon me!

For He has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor!

To proclaim freedom to the captives!

And to set at liberty those who are oppressed!

City of brotherly love, the words of Christ, our Savior,

ring out to you this day!

Whom the Son sets free is free indeed.

Dear God.

Why does Christ set free?

Why does He bring new life?

Because without Him,

you're a condemned prisoner of your sin.

Market Street.

100 feet by 260 per block.

Plus, 40 feet on the side streets

around to the wharf.

Let's see.

Agh! A printer without paper and ink.

Excuse me. Pardon me.

Pardon me. Excuse me.

Where's my graphite stick?

Blast it, Joseph, have you seen my graphite stick?

...the old has come, behold!

Old things have become new.

Have you ever heard a voice like that?

How many souls are kept from Christ

for fear of reproach? Of being marked with...

Like a trumpet blast from Heaven.

We have a living hope within us.

And yet we fear to proclaim that which we know is true!

Are we in truth ashamed of Christ?

This is it, Mr. Franklin. Yes.

A real experiment.

Discredit...

Either a rumor...

or fact.

Yes.

I ask you, ye men of letters,

whether your great Lycurgus or Solon,

Pythagoras or Plato, Aristotle, Seneca, Cicero,

all the heathen moralists combined

ever produced a system of ethics any way comparable

with so long-lasting, so widespread in effect

as the shining wisdom given by the one they call

Jesus of Nazareth.

Divided by four, plus another five...

Yeah, 6,000.

How many, Mr. Franklin?

According to my calculations,

his voice can be heard by 30,000.

You say 30,000?

Philadelphia only has--

20,000 residents.

What if there be mysteries in His religion?

Are they not mysteries of godliness?

Are they not worthy of the God who reveals them?

Is it not the greatest mystery that men who pretend to reason

and search into the very science of nature itself,

and consequently find a mystery in every blade of grass,

should then be so irrational as to decry

all mysteries in religion?

Where is the scribe?

Where is the wise?

Where among you is the disputer

against the Christian revelation?

I ask you.

Does not everything without and within us conspire to prove

their divine origin?

Was Christ Himself not styled the Word of God?

The fear of Him is the beginning of knowledge.

It's not a fish tale, Mr. Franklin.

Do not let the flat, lifeless, stained-glass reverence you see

keep you a cool distance from His fiery heart!

For it is the kindness of the Lord

that leads us to repentance.

And what does it mean to repent, but to turn another way?

What way shall we turn in naught but darkness?

What way shall we turn

if not toward the inextinguishable light

of the risen Son?

Who, though we reject Him, still pursues us all our days.

Oh! Does not your dead heart quicken to life at the thought

that you were fashioned for such purpose,

and have yet a part to play in the unfolding kingdom of God?

Stand therefore, brethren,

in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free.

Be not entangled under the yoke of the bondage of sin.

I commend you now all to Christ in His infinite mercy,

to whom, with the Father and the Spirit,

be all glory, all honor, all power,

now and forevermore!

Amen!

- Amen! - Amen!

Amen!

Awake, oh sleeper!

The sun has risen.

- Please, Reverend. - Excuse me. Pardon me.

Please, excuse me.

Please, excuse me. Pardon me.

Thank you.

- Excuse me, sir! It's me! - Thank you for the help

but as you can see, I have no time to speak.

Is it possible to have a word with the Reverend?

- Not now. - Uh, perhaps tonight?

Mr. Whitefield is engaged

to minister and preach well into the evening.

- I'm sorry. - Oh, Mr. Franklin.

Looks like Whitefield gave you tomorrow's headline.

- Are you... Benjamin Franklin? - I am.

Proprietor of the Pennsylvania Gazette?

- Yes. - William Seward.

- Oh. - Mr. Whitefield was hoping

to meet with you. This must be providence.

- Ah. Or coincidence. - It'll be late,

but we could visit you at your shop when he's through.

Uh, yes. Very good.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

God bless you, Mr. Franklin.

Please, Reverend, please.

All right.

The whole world has gone religious, Joseph.

Yes, sir.

Well... tomorrow's Gazette shall read...

"November 8th, 1739."

"The Reverend George Whitefield has arrived from England...

to awaken the Colonies."

You both may retire for the night.

Thank you for your endurance.

And what about you, sir?

Oh, I will plow deep while sluggards sleep,

so I will have corn to sell and to keep.

Of course.

Sweet pea, wake up.

We must get going.

Mr. Franklin?

Hmm?

What did you make of Reverend Whitefield's message today?

Oh.

I plan to make a lot from it.

Good night, sir.

Good night.

- Good night, Joseph.

Good evening. I'm looking for a Mr. Benjamin Franklin.

Uh... y-yes, please.

What is your name?

- I'm Samuel. - Samuel?

That's a strong name.

Who is this?

Samantha, sir.

Samantha, you are a great blessing to your father.

God bless you both.

- Night. - Good evening.

Excuse me, sir, what is your name?

Me?

Joseph.

That too, is a strong name.

Suits you.

The Lord whom I serve sees you.

Mr. Franklin.

Reverend Whitefield.

Please, call me, "George".

It is an honor to finally meet you.

Your reputation precedes you in England.

Oh?

Which one?

Many there regard your Poor Richard's Almanack

as one of the lost books of the Bible.

Ah, you flatter me.

But a man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.

Indeed.

Do you belong to a local parish?

I am a friend to every church, but a member of none.

I see.

Yes.

- Hmm. - Hmm.

You will have to wait until morning.

- Hmm.

Do you mind if I...

- Mm. - Ah. Ah!

- Thank you.

I am interested in working with you.

Oh, please, proceed.

The Pennsylvania Gazette is the leading newspaper

in His Majesty's 13 colonies.

It would be extremely effective

in communicating your whereabouts

to ensure the largest crowds possible.

And with it, the largest possible offerings.

Well, that is very thoughtful of you.

I am endeavoring to raise funds for an orphanage in Georgia.

I'm sure you are.

Partnering with me would guarantee the maximum benefit

to your cause,

and mine.

A match made in Heaven.

Or just a deal made in a print shop.

Now, as business partners,

whenever you're in my city and you need lodging,

my home will be made available to you.

That is a very kind offer for the sake of Christ.

Well, it's not for Christ's sake, it's for yours.

- Shall we dunk the papers then?

Tonight?

Wasn't it Poor Richard who said

"One today is worth two tomorrows"?

Yes, I know what Poor Richard said.

All right, let's get on with it.

I want to start by publishing this.

Hmm. "To the inhabitants of Maryland, Virginia,

North and South Carolina,

God has a quarrel to pick with you

for your abuse of and cruelty to slaves...

and for keeping the Gospel from them."

You are lighting a powder keg, my friend.

I did not cross the Atlantic to tickle ears, Mr. Franklin.

Hmm, huh...

- Soothe or stoke. - I'm sorry?

Soothe or stoke the hearts of the people.

Both sell papers and save souls apparently.

Well, let's get started.

You were business partners.

And I sold a lot of these.

"Whitefield preaches to 17,000

in Providence, Rhode Island--"

Rogue Island.

"And 30,000 in Boston."

Look at the date.

These were on the same day.

But Pro-- Providence and Boston are 50 miles apart.

He spent more time on a horse than on the ground...

and he preached and prayed more than he slept.

Ah... I have to admit, in the beginning,

I did not believe that level of response could be maintained.

Well, was it?

No.

It increased.

Reverend George Whitefield to preach repentance

in Rhode Island, Massachusetts.

Let there be no divisions in the church.

But rather be of one mind, united in thought and purpose.

Yes.

Therefore, let us not be asleep, but awake.

- Yes. - And sober minded,

because we belong to the day.

Let us be dressed in the raiment of light.

Yes! Amen.

Nathan! Nathan!

Reverend Whitefield preached at Hartford yesterday.

And he's to preach at Middletown this morning at 10:00.

Molly.

- Nathan? - Molly.

Molly, Reverend Whitefield.

And on his head are many crowns.

On his head are many crowns.

Lord, speak through me.

Draw them with Your Word.

Let them hear Your voice.

Set them on a path from which they will never depart.

Though You are a God of justice,

show them that Your heart resounds with mercy.

Show them the kindness that You have always shown me.

As I speak from the word like lightning speak,

cry out in thunder from the word.

He has a name written on Him

that no one knows but He Himself,

and His name is the word of God!

Use me, Lord,

whatever the cost.

Let them receive your gift of salvation,

and set us free.

"And I saw that my righteousness

would not save me.

Nathan Cole. October 23rd, 1740."

Nearly 13 years ago, and the reports remain the same.

Mr. Nathan Cole would never have experienced the new birth

if you had not published my whereabouts.

Well, poor Richard would still be poor

had I not published your whereabouts.

I see the church has, uh, greeted you warmly today.

My dear friend, John Wesley, once said,

"You must be willing to preach, pray or die at any moment."

He forgot to tell you to also duck and dodge.

We lost Seward.

I'm sorry.

He was preaching in South Wales...

when an angry mob began to throw stones.

He died three days later.

In his final letter to me, he said...

"Fear not, George...

we are immortal until our work on earth is done."

What compels one back into angry mobs?

The same thing that compelled Christ onto a cross of wood.

When you follow Him,

you are led by love...

no matter the cost.

Those who follow dead religion are led by a desire to be right.

Eventually, they will throw stones

at those they believe are wrong.

I grow weary in the work, Ben, but never of the work.

And like you...

I would rather wear out than rust out.

Seward also said that I should give you these...

my personal journals.

He said you should publish them,

that many would see the goodness of God.

I needed a new press just to publish your sermons.

Well, I suppose you'd better get a third.

My...

Your print shop has become a rather strange laboratory

- since my last visit.

Yes, His Majesty's Royal Society

has taken special interest in my research

on the mysteries of electric fire.

- And what about you, Ben? - Hmm?

What is your source?

My source?

- What compels you?

Aha, I thought you'd never ask.

Follow me.

I fail to see what is so humorous.

Uh, it's a virtue chart.

- You actually use this? - Oh, dear.

He's showing him the chart.

Good evening, Mrs. Franklin.

Allow me to expound.

First, on a small card, I write the virtue

I am to focus on for the week.

- Currently, it's humility. - Which he just added,

because he bragged about the first 12.

"Imitate Jesus and Socrates."

I refer to it frequently,

and then I replace it with a new virtue every week

for 13 weeks,

so that the series is repeated four times a year.

Then I assess how I'm doing on the chart.

Our assessments do not always align.

Well, whatever achievements I have made,

I credit to the ethical, intellectual,

and physical discipline of these virtues.

Upon them, I founded the most successful newspaper

in the colonies,

the first public library, firehouse,

and Philadelphia's first hospital.

Says the man who states, "He who falls in love with himself

will have no rivals."

I say this not to boast, Deborah,

but to prove the merit of my system.

Had someone else taken up this discipline,

it might be their name on the Franklin stove.

- Hmm. - Lightning rod, swim fins,

- and the flexible catheter. - Benjamin Franklin.

I think the flexible catheter

will be your highest achievement.

- Ah. - What's a catheter?

- Never mind.

It is the zeal for improvement in self,

society, and science that drove me to prove

that storms can move in an opposite direction

than the direction from the wind.

And of course, you invented the wind.

Absolutely, I did. I needed to fly my kites.

- Oh!

Oh, well, he is certainly responsible

for all of the hot air blowing through here.

- Hear, hear.

- Good night, George.

Good night, Mr. Whitefield.

Good night, Sally, Mrs. Franklin.

Good night, Father.

- Good night.

Oh, no. You're doing it again.

- What? - There, stop that.

Are you mocking my bad eye, Ben?

No, not the blasted eye.

That look.

You got some pseudo spiritual gaze upon me.

I tried this, Ben, and it nearly killed me.

It's the same religious spirit that leads men to throw stones.

- You must be born again.

I trust my good works from a good heart

will go before me.

Getting to heaven on your own strength.

You might as well climb to the moon on a rope of sand.

I have too much to do on earth to worry about the moon.

Even if I were to experience this new birth

you so often speak of,

I would never give you or anyone else

the satisfaction of knowing it.

Let's go.

- I'm sorry? - Grab your coat.

I want to show you something.

Now? You can't be serious.

Do not squander time, Georgie.

It's the stuff life is made of.

- All right. - I'm going to need this, and...

- What is that? - Huh?

- Okay.

Why are they ringing church bells?

Superstition.

They believe it will appease God

so his wrath won't strike and burn their homes.

- That's not scriptural.

Finally, somebody who agrees with me.

These are perfect conditions.

Is madness one of your virtues?

When the thunder clouds come over the kite,

this pointed wire will draw the electric fire from them.

The kite, and all of the twine,

will become electrified.

Then the loose filaments of the twine

will stand up every way

and be attracted by an approaching finger.

Oh, thank you, my little friend.

Haha!

When the moisture has wet the kite and twine,

so that it conducts the electric fire freely,

you will find it stream out plentifully from the key

on the approach of your knuckle.

Here, try it.

No, I'd-I'd rather not.

I've done this many times before.

It works.

It-- Precisely.

First time, I had my son William hold the line.

Boom! The lightning struck and surged through his hands.

He shook like a leaf.

It was incredible.

He's never helped me since.

I should think not.

That's when I learned,

I needed to ground the line to disperse the power.

So... I invented my lightning rod.

You're an amazing man, Ben.

Wait, do you feel that?

Feel what?

Ah!

Touch the Leyden jar to the key.

No, I don't think so.

Ah, here.

Yes.

Fire from heaven.

You are the lightning bolt, George.

I am just the lightning rod.

And who is the source, Ben?

I see what you did there.

Very clever, Reverend.

Very clever.

Confirmation!

Evacuation!

We need to leave now!

April 21st, 1770.

My dear friend, Dr. Benjamin Franklin,

I have embarked upon my seventh pilgrimage to the colonies.

And although difficult,

Christ's presence allows me to smile through pain,

and the fire of His love burns up all fevers whatsoever.

I was sorry to have missed

the christening of your city bell,

proclaiming God's liberty throughout all the land.

The people of America seem more eager after the Word than ever.

May their voices ring in harmony with that bell.

I find you grow more and more famous

in the learned world.

As you have made considerable progress

in the mysteries of electricity,

I now humbly recommend

the study of the mystery of the new birth,

for without it,

we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.

You will be pleased to know

I have raised 700 pounds sterling

for my orphanage in Georgia.

I hope to grow rich in heaven

by taking care of the orphans on earth.

I subscribe myself, dear sir, your very affectionate friend

and obliged servant, George Whitefield.

"Proclaim liberty throughout all the land...

unto all the inhabitants thereof."

What a glorious verse to ring out

over the city of brotherly love.

Hmm?

Oh, yes. Well,

apparently, the inhabitants thereof

are ringing just as loudly in the ears of our king.

Parliament would like to influence

our definition of liberty,

and because I am fully acquainted with the temper

and disposition of the colonies,

the Continental Congress has chosen me

to act on their behalf.

I sail for London the day after tomorrow.

Blood will be shed for that liberty,

whereas blood was already shed

for the liberty proclaimed by that bell.

You will have my prayers.

Prayers?

An appeal to a distant God cannot resolve these issues.

It's going to take a lot more than prayer, I'm afraid.

So that's it then?

A distant God

uninvolved in the affairs of man?

No, I'm quite certain he was never involved

in my affairs.

Does my confession shock you?

No.

Your idea of virtue does.

I beg your pardon?

What do you make of Jesus Christ?

I made a lot from Him.

And how long will you hide behind your wit

and make light of the truth?

Not again. Not now.

Ben, our time grows short.

There is a Judgment Day coming

when all will stand before the Lord,

and only faith in Jesus Christ,

not your wit, will save you.

Your frequent wishes for my eternal happiness

- are very obliging but-- - It is your life,

Benjamin Franklin,

your eternal life at stake

that keeps me begging you to consider the truth

of the gospel.

I choose evidence over faith.

Evidence?

How much more do you need?

For 30 years now,

you have promoted the greatest awakening

these colonies have ever seen.

That wasn't me or the Wesleys or Jonathan Edwards.

It was an intervention by our most powerful friend.

I have never attempted to change you,

and I would greatly appreciate it

if you would stop trying to change me.

I don't understand how thousands of strangers

can melt at the sound of this truth,

but you, my dearest friend, why can't I get through to you?

Because I've heard it all before

and I've seen it all before, George.

Born the 10th son of a Puritan father,

set apart as his holy tithe in service to the church.

He wanted me to be a preacher.

Me!

But never in 50 lifetimes would I ever have anything to do

with my father's overbearing, hypocritical clergy,

who spent so much of their time praying

and very little time doing good.

As a devout and thorough deist,

I have done more good to better the lives of this city

than all the collective clergy combined.

I do believe in a deity,

but I believe He has given us rights, resources,

and reason to do good,

and now He waits and watches to see if we will.

It's not enough to do good, Ben.

It's not enough to believe in God.

Even the devil believes in God.

Everything, everything comes down

to what you make of Jesus Christ.

Tell me,

what have I lacked by not experiencing this new birth?

Hmm?

Living my life on the back of a horse,

being pelted with rocks, dung, and dead animals.

Sleeping on the ground

or a stranger's floor every night,

being led into the hands of an angry mob

and an early grave?

You have no money, no family, failing health,

your failing orphanage.

My orphanage is no longer failing

by the grace of God.

By the grace of God or by resorting to slave labor

to keep it running?

It was the only way.

Those orphans would have become homeless

if we had not intervened--

Is that providence?

Is that God being involved in the affairs of man?

You've made that orphanage an idol

and a stain on your name.

Oh, the irony, proclaiming liberty

while standing on the backs of slaves.

Then tear down the name of Whitefield

if it means the name of Christ remains.

Do not base your faith upon my flawed life.

Do not base your faith

upon the cold religion of your father.

Base it upon what He has done on a cross of wood.

- George?

- Georgie, what?

Georgie.

They're waiting for me.

You are more fit to go to bed than to preach.

I must preach.

A dying man...

to dying men.

Georgie.

Do not base your faith upon my flawed life.

Do not base your faith

upon the cold religion of your father.

Base it upon what He has done on a cross of wood.

No!

It is the great and terrible

Reverend George Preachfield!

Admiral Howe,

you do not know the heart of these people.

They are a sturdy, independently-minded kind.

Moral, self-governing, they have been awakened.

Awakened?

How?

They believe that once they dealt

with the tyrant within themselves,

they now have eyes to see the tyrant across the sea.

Oh, do they?

Oh, so they found it necessary to send you

to rebuke this tyrant across the sea?

I would have thought your sturdy colonists

would have at least equipped you with a shovel or a tomahawk

to face such a tyrant.

Perhaps a sling and a few smooth stones

are all that is necessary.

Do you know how many men are on just one of my ships?

800.

My Royal Navy has over 250 ships.

And you're a man of calculations.

You're going to need more than a few smooth stones,

Dr. Franklin.

There is no need to escalate this to a war.

Oh, I don't know.

Make for a wonderful story for your little newspaper.

Farmers with slings and stones

versus the most powerful army on earth.

It would be a good little war.

Short-lived, but... exhilarating.

There never was a good war, nor a bad peace.

Then may I suggest you refrain from threats

you're not able to fulfill?

We have petitioned the King exhaustively.

We've appealed to the royal governors within the colonies,

to no avail.

We have sought participation in trade agreements,

taxation, and governance,

without even a response from His Majesty.

Well, the King has far greater concerns

than distant dirt workers crying for attention.

Admiral Howe, across that ocean,

an entire generation of Americans

have been awakened to believe

that liberty is not a gift given to them by a king,

but a right given to them by God.

God?

Hm.

Well, perhaps if I match

your surprisingly religious tone,

you might understand.

When the prodigal son received his inheritance prematurely,

he too thought he could handle his newly found freedom.

He was shamefully deluded.

He squandered it and came crawling back to Daddy

with empty hands and an empty belly.

You Americans are exactly the same.

Utterly incapable of handling freedom.

A virtuous people can handle freedom.

Oh, and you, as model citizen.

Would Mrs. Franklin find you

and last night's theater guest virtuous?

Oh, Dr. Franklin,

need I remind you that for over a century,

our kings have emptied their poorhouses

and drained the vagrants from our streets

by sending them to your colonies?

And now you think these indentured servants

can be self-governed?

You know you are not on the same level

as these rats you represent.

British society is greatly enamored by you

and think you delightfully entertaining.

If you would simply drop

this notion of independent government,

you'd be greatly rewarded by the King.

I cannot be bought.

You would die on the vine without us!

Pardon the interruption, Admiral.

I have just been informed of news from the colonies.

Hmm, they're requesting more shovels, plows, and stones?

The Reverend George Whitefield has died...

...in Newburyport, Massachusetts.

Being a friend of England and her colonies,

the consulate thought you both should know.

Is that all?

Yes, sir.

Speaking of dying on the vine,

and rather young, wasn't he?

Did you know him?

Well,

your colonies had their awakening, Dr. Franklin.

Now, it's time they have their reckoning.

Checkmate.

Where are you going?

Grandfather, what are you doing?

The storm is here!

This is unsafe!

Grandfather, put this on!

Grandfather!

And who is the source, Ben?

Dunk the papers, Benny.

I have something to say.

Grandfather,

care to do the honors?

Grandfather...

why didn't you tell me this before...

t-the story of Whitefield?

I didn't think I needed to.

You needed to.

One tiny candle illuminates a thousand.

Order!

Order!

Proceed, Mr. Read.

The states formed this confederation in 1776

on equal terms.

The states being equal,

must have equal influence and equal votes.

- Aye! - If...

if this convention grants large states more votes

than the small,

the large states will naturally combine

and form a tyranny over the smaller states.

- Hear, hear! - Nowhere

in the history of men or nations

has such a thing occurred, Mr. Read.

Carthage and Rome tore one another to pieces

instead of uniting their forces to devour the weaker nations

of the earth.

Sparta, Athens, and Thebes

never combined to oppress their neighbors.

Instead they were rivals, and fought each other.

Anarchy and discord await us

if we fail to unite under a central authority.

When men or nations are strong and equal,

they become rivals.

Jealousy prevents their union.

This convention might as well go on then

and dissolve the union now.

- How dare you?

If partial confederates take place,

then the present plan on the table, Mr. Madison.

- Order.

Order.

This chair recognizes

Dr. Benjamin Franklin.

Mr. President,

the small progress we have made

after four or five weeks' close attendance

and continual reasonings with each other,

our different sentiments on almost every question,

several of the last producing as many nos as ayes,

is methinks a melancholy proof

of the imperfection of the human understanding.

We indeed seem to feel our own want

of political wisdom,

since we've been running about in search of it.

We have gone back to ancient history

for models of government.

And having examined those forms of those republics,

which having been formed

with the seeds of their own disillusion,

now no longer exist.

We have viewed modern states all around Europe,

but find none of their constitutions

suitable to our circumstances.

In this situation of this assembly,

groping as it were in the dark for political truth

and scarce able to distinguish it

when presented to us,

how has it happened, sir,

that we have not hitherto once thought

of humbly applying to the Father of Lights

to illuminate our understandings?

In the beginning of the contest with Great Britain,

when we were sensible of danger,

we had daily prayer in this room

for the divine protection.

Our prayers, sir, were heard,

and they were graciously answered.

All of us who were engaged in the struggle

must have observed frequent instances

of a superintending providence in our favor.

To that kind providence,

we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace

on the means of establishing our future national felicity.

And have we now forgotten

that powerful friend?

Or do we imagine that we no longer need his assistance?

I have lived, sir, a long time.

And the longer I live,

the more convincing proofs I have seen of this truth,

that God governs in the affairs of man.

And if a sparrow cannot fall without his notice,

is it probable that an empire can rise without his aid?

We have been assured, sir, in the sacred Scriptures

that unless the Lord built the house,

they labor in vain that build it.

I firmly believe this.

And I also believe that without his concurring aid,

we shall succeed in this political building

no better than the builders of Babel.

We shall be divided by our little partial local interest,

our projects shall be confounded,

and we ourselves shall become a reproach and a byword

down to future age.

And what is worse,

mankind may hereafter these unfortunate instances,

despair of establishing governments on human wisdom

and leave it to chance, war, and conquest.

I, therefore, beg leave to move

that henceforth prayers

imploring the assistance of Heaven

and its blessings on our deliberations

be held in this assembly every morning

before we proceed to business

and that one or more of the clergy of this city

be requested to officiate in that service.

However proper such a resolution might have been

at the beginning of the convention,

it might at this late day lead the public to believe

that the embarrassments of disunity

and dissensions within the convention

have suggested this measure.

It would make us look weak.

And the true cause of the omission

of clergy-led prayer must not be mistaken.

This convention has no funds to pay a clergyman.

I propose, in order to give

a favorable aspect to this measure,

that a sermon be preached at the request of the convention

on 4th of July

and henceforward

prayers be offered in this convention

every morning.

Second.

Shall we take a vote?

I request a postponement due to adjournment.

Second.

Dr. Franklin's recommendation

and Mr. Randolph's motion for daily prayer

is postponed due to adjournment.

I, for one, will be in attendance on July the 4th,

observing a day of prayer.

I would welcome

any and all of you

to join me.

Adjourned.

The Father of Lights says in His Word,

"For you who honor my name,

the sun of righteousness will rise

with healing in its wings."

My friends,

do you want to be free?

Liberty is found in Him alone.

Do you want to live?

He alone gives eternal life.

Because of the tender mercy of our God,

the rising sun will come to us from heaven

to shine on those living in darkness.

I beseech you, do not reject so great a gift.

A great awakening has come.

Arise, O sleeper!

Awaken!