I believe in one God, the first and great cause of goodness. I

The words of Daniel Morgan — “I believe in one God, the first and great cause of goodness. I also believe in Jesus Christ, the rebirth of the world. I also believe in the Holy Ghost, the comforter” — are not the utterance of a theologian alone, but the confession of a soul forged in the fires of struggle and faith. Morgan, a general of the American Revolution and a man of humble beginnings, spoke as one who had seen both the brutality of war and the beauty of divine providence. His declaration is not a sermon written for the pulpit, but a creed born of life — a testament to the Trinity, the threefold mystery of God’s presence in creation, redemption, and consolation.

When Morgan speaks of “one God, the first and great cause of goodness,” he affirms the ancient truth that the universe itself has a divine origin — that all things which are noble, just, and beautiful spring from a single source of light. To call God the “cause of goodness” is to see divinity not as a distant ruler, but as the living fountain from which all love, justice, and mercy flow. In these words, the general’s soldierly simplicity reveals profound theology: that behind every act of virtue, every spark of compassion, stands the eternal Author of all good. His faith, grounded in both reason and revelation, echoes the wisdom of the ancients who saw the hand of the divine in the order of the cosmos and the conscience of man.

But Morgan’s next phrase — “I also believe in Jesus Christ, the rebirth of the world” — brings that cosmic order into the realm of the human heart. For in Christ, the infinite becomes intimate, and the Creator steps into His own creation. Morgan, who lived in an age of upheaval, saw in Christ the possibility of renewal — not only for nations, but for souls. To call Jesus “the rebirth of the world” is to recognize that His coming was not simply a moment in time, but the turning of all time — the dawn of mercy after ages of darkness. Through the cross and resurrection, humanity was offered a new beginning, a second Eden born not from the soil, but from the spirit.

This understanding would not have been abstract to Morgan. As a man who fought for liberty, he knew the price of freedom. He had seen men die that others might live free, just as Christ had died that humanity might live redeemed. In the smoke of battle, in the frailty of flesh, Morgan must have felt the nearness of mortality — and thus, the greater nearness of the One who conquers it. The “rebirth of the world” was not theory; it was hope made real, the promise that beyond war’s ruin and life’s trials, something eternal endures. His faith transformed not only his courage, but his vision of purpose: that every struggle for justice mirrors the divine struggle for salvation.

And finally, he declares, “I also believe in the Holy Ghost, the comforter.” In this final statement lies the gentlest and most intimate dimension of the divine mystery. For after creation and redemption comes communion — the abiding presence of God in the hearts of His people. The Holy Ghost, or Holy Spirit, is the breath of the divine that strengthens, guides, and consoles the soul in its pilgrimage through the world. For a soldier like Morgan, who had known both victory and loss, the idea of a Comforter was no mere abstraction — it was the quiet assurance that even in loneliness and grief, God walks beside His children. The Spirit is the invisible companion who turns fear into peace, chaos into clarity, despair into endurance.

History is filled with examples of men who, like Morgan, found solace and purpose through this triune faith. Consider George Washington, who knelt in the snow of Valley Forge and prayed for the strength of his army and the salvation of his cause. Like Morgan, he too believed in a divine providence that governed human affairs — a belief that sustained him through doubt and defeat. The faith of these men was not confined to words, but lived in action. They fought for freedom because they believed that liberty itself was a reflection of the divine image in man — that to defend truth and justice was to serve the God who created both.

The lesson of Daniel Morgan’s creed is timeless: that faith must be more than ritual — it must be life itself. To believe in God the Creator is to recognize the sacredness of every act of goodness. To believe in Christ the Redeemer is to strive for renewal in oneself and in the world. To believe in the Holy Ghost, the Comforter, is to walk through the storms of life without fear, knowing that peace dwells within. Such a faith does not weaken the heart — it strengthens it; it does not blind reason — it enlightens it.

Therefore, let us take Morgan’s words not as relics of another age, but as a living call. Let every man and woman remember that the same divine fire that burned in the hearts of the founders, prophets, and saints burns also within us. Let us act with courage, forgive with mercy, and endure with hope. For the God who created us still guides us, the Christ who redeemed us still renews us, and the Spirit who comforted them still comforts all who believe. This is the eternal creed of the soul — the truth that goodness has a source, that life has a redeemer, and that love never leaves us alone.