Rarely seen 'Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love, 1931, packs BYU's Varsity Theater

 

Review/observations by Doug Gibson

For about a couple decades, I had longed to view the early sound film "based" on a segment of The Book of Mormon. It's "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love," 1931. With artistic license, it tells of Alma's somewhat troublesome son, Corianton, and his involvement with the harlot, Isabel. This is all part of Alma's letters to Corianton in Book of Alma, chapters 39-42.

Now that's not Isabel reclining and wearing very little in the poster above. But the woman -- an extra -- is in the film, and dressed as such. Corianton ... premiered in Salt Lake City and then promptly flopped at the box office. Ultimately, more money was likely earned by lawyers litigating over the film than at the box office. It's a low-budget black and white film that once aspired to be in color. The Great Depression cut fundraising severely, and it limps to its climax, with the final scenes - a battle between the Zoramites and the Righteous -- a mixture of stock footage from the 1922 big-budget film "Sodom and Gomorrha," and the Corianton ... film actors passionately fighting, arguing, and dying on what looks like a stage.

Nevertheless, I loved this film after watching a restored version that played at BYU's Varsity Theater the last Friday of January. The BYU Motion Picture Archives hosted the event, and the Varsity Theater was packed. (Granted there was no charge, but that's still a great crowd). Panelists -- including author/historian Ardis E. Parshall, and Ben Harry, curator of BYU's Motion Picture archives, provided commentary before and after the film.

(A lot of the back history of this film mentioned in this blog post, as well as many of its artistic merits, pro and con, was also observed by the panelists and noted in a book on Corianton edited by Parshall. Here is one still from the film, below.)

Parshall, by the way recently edited a book -- The Corianton Saga -- covering the history of the Corianton story adaptations. It was first a novella by LDS General Authority B.H. Roberts, titled Corianton: A Nephite Story, then adapted into a play by an eccentric Latter-day Saint named Orestes U. Bean, who developed an obsession with the story he had appropriated from Roberts, as well as another late-19th century Book of Mormon-themed novel titled, A Ship of Hagoth, by Julia A. McDonald.

The play was titled "Corianton." It played well in what is described as the "Mormon corridor," or areas heavily populated by Latter-day Saints. When its backers took the play to parts east of the Rocky Mountain West -- including New York City -- it failed. In New York City, Bean titled it "An Aztec Romance."

A little backstory: In the late 19th century, there was an effort from LDS leaders to create art from the Scriptures, and the church's doctrine and its early struggles. Besides the aforementioned books that resulted, there was Nephi Anderson's tale that included the pre-existence, Added Upon. That book was in my family's library as I was growing up. Besides novels there were plays and short stories. I recall reading one by Anderson in which a lazy LDS teenager -- too bored to attend church -- was thrust into a dream where he experiences the pre-Utah persecution of the Saints. This sort of "'Mormon Renaissance" was the precursor of the film, "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love."

I know I am meandering so I'll try to get to the film. In the 1920s, an entrepreneur named Lester Park, after watching impressive films like "Ben Hur" gain notice, acclaim, and box-office money, decided that the story of Corianton would be box-office gold. The project was successful early, and even the tepid resulting film has evidences of the early money. It was filmed in New Jersey. Its music composer was from "Ben Hur," The film's orchestra music was overseen by the former head of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra of New York City. Professional dancers were in the film, and the LDS Tabernacle Choir and Great Organ is heard in the film. I mentioned that an original idea was to shoot the film in color.

But, as mentioned, the money started to dry up. And there was a second problem; the play's mercurial, eccentric, odd, creator, the aforementioned Orestes Bean. He had finagled himself a lot of control over the production, which caused headaches for director Wilfrid North and the film crew. In fact, a lot of the film was shot in a hurry while Bean was off getting married, and absent from the set.

Corianton ... starts with the trial of Korihor. Corianton is a fan of the apostate, and critic of his father Alma. His faith is re-energized once he sees Korihor struck dumb and he goes off on his mission, with his brother Shiblon. Once with the Zoramites, though, he becomes too friendly with Zoramite nobleman, Prince Seantum. Seantum conspires with his mistress, Isobel, to get Coriantumr infatuated with her. The plan, which works to perfection, lures Coriantumr to a swinging Zoramite party where he's fed lots of wine by Isobel. Once his drunkeness is publicized by Seantum and others, the reputation of the missionaries is tarnished.

Prince Seantum is not in The Book of Mormon. Nor is a woman named Relia, a pious woman who is engaged to Shiblon but actually in love with Corianton. Meanwhile, Isobel, despite her treachery, falls in love with Corianton, who feels regret at what he has done. This all really upsets Seantum, who plots not only the murder of Corianton and Isobel, but plans to lead an army and destroy the righeous Nephites. The climax of the film is that battle.

I'm conditioned not to reveal the end of movies, which is kind of unfair since Harry told the audience at the Varsity Theater that there are no plans to release this film, as a DVD, or on YouTube, or on TV. However, interested readers can purchase the book Parshall edited, as it contains the entire film script.

This is not a traditionally good movie. I would give it 1.5 stars out of 4. But it's still so interesting to watch. If I could, I'd buy 40 copies and give them to likeminded friends. As Harry noted, "(the film) is a holdover from an earlier era." Pomp and majesty, and drama, and very loud talking is how the film conveys its religious message. It's not like films today which focus on emotion and deep spirituality to convey a religious message. As Harry noted, it's a lot like "Ben Hur" was in its religious delivery.

"We need to watch with one eye in 1931 and one eye in 2023," Harry added. (See another still from the film below.)

My opinion of the film is that it mixes three different artistic styles, the creaky, still under-developed sound technology of 1931, the pantomime, emotional style of silent cinema, and the loud, let's-project-our-voice-through-the-auditorium of the traditional stage. (Harry also noted a couple of these observations.)

Much of the overly emotional, tragedian (particularly from the actor who played Shiblon) acting in the film is risible today, and there were a dozen-plus incidents in the film that evoked respectful laughter.

As was noted by Parshall, an unhealthy influence of too much Orestes Bean found itself into the script as the film progresses. Suddenly, the actors started to talk in a Shakespearean manner. "(Bean liked) thees and thous," Parshall told the audience. Parshall does note that these were talented artists, on both sides of the camera.

Much of the film's faults are due to the lack of money as filming progressed. The "Beanish" script didn't help, and the normal-for-the-times overly dramatic, tragedy-like lamenting over-acting doesn't go over well today, and invites giggles from the audience. Those who have read The Book of Mormon, I feel comfortable saying, won't see "Korihor," or "Alma," in the actors on the screen.

One favorable note for this film is it underscores the progressive nature of Mormonism when it comes to salvation. During the climax, actors express their confidence that God will forgive them of their sins, accept their repentence, and welcome them to heaven. In fact, one character claims that he received revelation that Korihor had been saved.

Also, the two leads, Eric Alden as Corianton, and Theo Pennington, as Zoan Ze Isabel, are great in their roles. (In what strikes me as humorous, I learned at the film showing that Bean's wife eventually changed her name to Zoan Ze Isabel. Bean, by the way, in the latter years of his life, lectured on his play/movie extensively in southern California, to large crowds. He had a missionary zeal for it.)

Finally, I want to mention one more interesting fact about "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love." It's a fairly racy film, although that was not uncommon in that film era. There are many dancers dressed like the woman in the above poster. And there is a scene, where an angry Corianton is confronting a penitent Isobel, where Theo Pennington is visibly nude under a thin negligee. One panelist, I cannot recall which, did opine that box office receipts likely dropped after parents had second thoughts about children attending. Frankly, the film would probably garner a PG or PG-13 today, or soft R if the MPAA was in a prudish mood.

I am so glad I saw this historical gemstone. It has so much much value, particular for the cultural history of Mormonism. I appreciate Parshall, Terry and others for publicizing the film and restoring it. It played a decade or so ago at BYU but I missed it. This newer restored version include subtitles, which was helpful. The audience clearly appreciated the film. Harry promised the film will eventually get another showing, and said that a new print has been discovered in California, under a different title. 

(Below, one more still/poster, with the leads "Corianton" and "Isobel.")

B.H. Roberts biography provides an interesting review of his public life

 

Review by Doug Gibson

John Sillito, professor emeritus of libraries at Weber State University in my home city of Ogden, Utah, has done a really impressive job with "B.H. Roberts: A Life in the Public Arena," Signature, 2021. Its nearly 600 pages make for an interesting biography read, a turn-pager, rare for a book with so much information packed into it.

Although the subject's personal life is not Sillito's primary topic, it is emotional, at times heart-tugging, to read of the young B.H. Roberts, with a father gone and a mother far away in Utah, living a neglected life in England, badly treated by church members who were supposed to be caring well for him while his mother tried to get him to Utah territory.

He finally got to "Zion," walking most of the way with only his sister. When he arrived, he found his mother in another slowly failing marriage. The result was a rougher adolescence that a young man needed, and it likely contributed to a recurring problem with alcoholism, and depression that Roberts dealt with through his life.

Roberts, though, was determined to succeed, and sought an education, graduating from Deseret College. He thrived within the late 18th century LDS church, hierarchy, becoming a member of the First Council of the Seventy, and eventually marrying member Sarah Louisa Smith, a native of Centerville, Utah. 

He later took a second wife, Celia Dibble. Smith and Dibble bore him 15 children.

Roberts was sent on dangerous prostlyting missions, when it really was without purse or script, and threats from the opposition could be deadly. When LDS missionaries were murdered in the deep southern United States, Roberts showed great courage in treking into the dangerous locations, and undercover, retrieving the bodies for proper burial.

Sillito's research is impressive. He's combed archives, letters, transcripts, newspapers and more to present a picture of Roberts, a devout Latter-day Saint, clearly a leader, a great public speaker, researcher and organizer, and a sometimes rebel who clashed with powerful colleagues in the LDS hierarchy. 

Roberts was an active liberal in a time when many of his peers were on the opposite side, preferring to align with business interests. Roberts, disagreed, and found himself in spats with among others, Joseph F. Smith, and Utah's first senator, Reed Smoot. 

Roberts occasional bouts with alcoholism were tolerated by his ecclesiastical leaders, but the closest he came to official church discipline was due to politics, when he and another Democrat, apostle Moses Thatcher, clashed over the LDS hierarchy wanting greater say on members' political activities. Roberts' enthusiastic desire to run for U.S. Congress met with disapproval. They wanted Roberts to back a sort of manifesto that would allow church leaders to approve runs for political office.

Roberts, believing he had been forthright about his political aspirations, offered to leave his leadership callings. He was furious over what he regarded as unfair criticism directed at him. The situation for a time appeared to be untenable for either side.

For a time Roberts shunned church hierarchy, but eventually he was persuaded to accept their concerns without sacrificing his personal political beliefs. 

It's interesting that church leaders spent a lot time talking with Roberts, working to persuade him. It underscores his importance as a leader, missionary, spokesman and writer, Consider how another internal dissident, apostle MosesThatcher was treated. For similar reasons, Thatcher was dropped from the Quorum of the Twelve.

It's entertaining to read of Utah's early days of politics. Sentiment among voters was fluid, moving back and forth, just like today (nationally, not Utah). Interestingly, Roberts for a while opposed women's suffrage, and suffered politically for it. He also opposed high tariffs, which put him at odds with much of elite Utahns of that time.

Sillito does not avoid Roberts' racist views, which he expressed publicly. He was a creature of his times, and was echoing sentiments which were believed and practiced through the LDS Church in those times. 

Roberts was eventually elected to the U.S. Congress, despite having three wives and having been jailed for polygamy. After long hearings, and dreadful national press, Roberts failed to be seated, although he did later receive some badly needed back pay for while he was in Washington. This is my favorite part of Sillito's biography. Roberts was very naive that he could -- as a polygamist -- persuade Congress to seat him, but it shows both his tenacity, and intellectual ability, that he gave it a fight.

As mentioned, Roberts was married three times. His third marriage may have been after the Manifesto. Roberts seems to have partially neglected his earlier wives, particularly his first, preferring to spend most of the time with third wife, Dr. Margaret Curtis Shipp. This particularly caused tension with his first wife, discord that continued even after her death, in which her family made it clear to Roberts he was not welcome at her funeral.

Sillito writes of an incident in which the multi-married Roberts, several years after the Manifesto, appeares to have a serious crush on a young single Mormon woman, Leah Dunford. Sillito provides letters which provide fascinating reading. Nothing eventually happened. Any romance died in embryo. The whole event seems a bit kitschy, except that the young lady, already more or less engaged, was encouraged by her mother, Susa Young Gates, to accept Roberts' interest. These passages underscore the long time it took to deflate the toxic culture of polygamy.

Roberts, despite his 60 years, admirably became a U.S. Army Chaplain and served overseas during World War I. He later served as president of the Eastern States Mission, overseeing mission strategies that are still in use today.

Diabetes caused a physical collapse and after his mission tenure ended in 1927 -- third wife Margaret Shipp died during his mission -- he spent his last years with the Seventies before eventually succumbing to complications of diabetes in 1933. Before he died he suffered a bout of serious depression, what Roberts called the "black dog," when diabetes led to partial foot amputation. When Roberts died in late September of 1933, he was living with his sole living spouse, Celia.

Despite these challenges, Roberts stayed active in the public arena. He represented the LDS Church at the World Parliament of Religions, where he had been snubbed 40 years earlier. This time he was praised by parliament participants. Very late in his life, he was politically active, standing up for Utah miners he believed were being exploited by business interests. 

There's a lot of Roberts that interests me that Sillito omits, such as his writing (I love his novella Corianton), much of his family life, his opinions on the Book of Mormon, and a lot of ecclesiastical details. But that's OK; those issues have been covered in depth. We have a very satisfying biography of a great man's public life. His talents and his flaws are covered. To sum up, Sillito provides a book that shows readers why Roberts had such an impact on the 18th and 19th century LDS church, and why he was a popular church leader, speaker and politician. His influence extended well beyond Utah and Mormonism during his lifetime. 

(The Kindle version of B.H. Roberts: A Life in the Public Arena is only $8.99 as of the above date)

Charles Shuster Zane was a fair judge Mormons loved to hate

Ever heard of Utah territorial Chief Justice Charles Shuster Zane? He’s one of those fascinating footnotes in history. Appointed in 1884 to administer justice in Utah, the New Jersey Quaker was a respected Illinois lawyer who rubbed shoulders in the same circles that Abraham Lincoln inhabited. Zane was a circuit judge when appointed to the Utah bench by President Chester A. Arthur. 

His tenure was stormy. The dominant Latter-day Saints disliked Zane because he thoroughly enforced the laws against polygamy. He imprisoned men and polygamous wives that he discovered were living “the Principle.” Zane also was heard to publicly proclaim polygamy an abomination. The judge was enforcing the Edmunds law, which was designed to go after Utah Mormons on the polygamy issue. 

According to an article on Zane in the fall 1966 issue of Utah Historical Quarterly, then-BYU professor Thomas G. Alexander cited the following negative assessment of Zane from LDS historians B.H. Roberts and Orson F. Whitney: “Judge Zane ... will stand classed ... in that history as sharing in responsibility for the cruelty and injustice of that regime, which marks the saddest period of Utah’s history. ... Judge Zane never divorced himself from his deepseated prejudice and vindictiveness against ... [the Mormon] offenders and their religious faith, ... his object was the overthrow of Mormonism as a religion.”

Those are harsh words, and they come from Roberts’ “Comprehensive History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” and Whitney’s “History of Utah.” But they’re also not true. In his Utah Historical Quarterly article, Alexander takes a long look at Zane’s judicial philosophy while in Utah, and discovers a tough but fair judge who was scrupulously following the law. In other words, Zane was not the judicial activist many Mormons had hoped would look the other way at laws designed to hamper their religious beliefs.

In fact, Zane made many lower-profile decisions that helped the Mormon church, which was constantly facing nuisance lawsuits from the energetic anti-Mormon “gentile” faction of Utah, which had as its mouthpiece “The Salt Lake Tribune.” For example, Zane ruled in favor of local, Mormon public schools receiving tax monies, rejecting lawsuits that they sectarian schools that taught treason. Zane was a big believer in public education, and the rights of local communities to make educational decisions. 

Also, Zane resisted efforts by gentiles in Utah to swing elections through malicious efforts. He sided with the People’s Party, an LDS party, in its accusation that members of the gentile Liberal Party had tried to stuff ballots in an 1890 school election. In fact, Zane even allowed, over gentile objections, voting by Mormon men who had engaged in obviously sham “spiritual divorces” from their polygamous wives. That shows a lot of tolerance for the Mormon religious mores.

In fact, when Zane finally jailed men and polygamous wives, it was only after every effort to prosecute, or resolve, the situation, had been attempted. There’s no doubt that Zane’s judicial decrees ailed many prominent Utah Mormons. Zane had the — perhaps — misfortune of assuming the bench when enforcement of the anti-polygamy laws was at its most intense. And he was determined to obey the letter of the law. Alexander adds that whenever a guilty plea came in, Zane was likely to fine, rather than jail the polygamist.

Another ruling, disliked by the LDS majority, was Zane’s decision to allow lawyers to question Mormons on naturalization, or citizenship, protests. As Alexander notes, this was a big issue as the Mormons were energetic missionaries overseas and the converts migrated to Utah. However, Zane did offer the Mormons an olive branch by requiring that the district attorney question prospective citizens, rather than anti-Mormon lawyers, explains Alexander.

After the 1890 Manifesto against polygamy, Zane’s attitude on the practice became more relaxed. Alexander recounts that he accepted the promise by LDS Church President Wilford W. Woodruff and later published an article in Forum magazine where he stated, according to Alexander, “that the Mormon problem (polygamy) was at an end because the Mormons had resolved to obey the law.”

The tenure of Zane was an example of a judge diligently following the law in a rugged, still frontier-like territory and angering both sides. Because the high-profile cases went against the majority Mormons, he was vilified long after his death in 1915. It would be fascinating to read a more in-depth look at his tenure as Utah territory’s chief justice.

--- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardNET

Mormon Church's snub at 1893 fair was bitter setback

Originally published at StandardBlogs/Standard-Examiner

Eighteen ninety-three was heralded as the end of the frontier era as the world gathered in Chicago to celebrate civilization. 

For the Mormon Church, still mostly hidden from America, tucked into Utah, it represented for church leaders an opportunity to garner international respect in its quest for statehood. That dream would take a few more years, but in 1893, church leaders — and its ambassador, B.H. Roberts — would find its efforts to rub shoulders with the world’s religions firmly snubbed.

It would be a bitter defeat for Roberts, and also underscore the ironic closed-mindedness of a religious hierarchy that gathered in Chicago to allegedly celebrate tolerance.

Yet, while the LDS faith was shunted aside at the Chicago gathering, the secular attractions of Utah were more warmly received. The territory was greeted with interest and admiration, and provided a coveted spot at the Chicago fair.

The secret was avoiding the still-pesky religion and its association with polygamy. Historian Konden R. Smith writes of the Columbian Exposition of 1893 and its distinct treatments of the LDS Church and the Utah territory in the Journal of Mormon History article, “The Dawning of a New Era: Mormonism and the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893.” It’s a reminder that the church’s interest in public relations is not a recent development — it goes well back into its founding century.

The Parliament of Religions at the Chicago fair, which Smith claims “received more media attention and applause than any of the other congresses,” was designed to gather faiths with “brotherly sympathies any who are groping, blindly, after God.” Nevertheless, the Mormons — who Smith says expected to be invited — “were deliberately excluded.”

The church's connection to polygamy were considered by parliament organizers as a “disturbing element,” and not fit for the congress.

Letters from the church's First Presidency were ignored by organizers, Not giving up. Church President Wilford Woodruff sent young general authority B.H. Roberts to Chicago to lobby for inclusion.

After six weeks or so of lobbying for the October religions parliament, “the increasingly annoyed Parliament's managers” asked Roberts to pen “a statement of its (the LDS Church's) faith and achievements.”

The invitation came with no guarantee that the statement would be delivered by Roberts in Chicago, or even read by anyone, but Roberts believed that the invitation guaranteed him a prominent spot at the Parliament.

What eventually occurred was an offering for Roberts to speak in an obscure hall in the Scientific Section” of the fair. Roberts, comprehending that he was being shunted away from a chance to proclaim his religion,” was very bitter, and remained so for decades. He rejected the offer, and later called it a rejection by the Parliament.

Indeed, in September, the Mormon Church was officially rejected by the Parliament. Even its previous offer of submitting Roberts' paper was rescinded after expo-goers reacted with outrage, hissing and boos to Mohammed Alexander Russell Webb's defense of polygamy while reading his paper, “The Spirit of Islam.” As Smith writes, “Webb said: ‘Polygamy is no curse. A man can be a good, honest gentleman and yet be a polygamist. But I do not accept him as such if he be a sensualist.' At this point, the crowd erupted in hisses and cries of ‘Shame!' and ‘No, no: stop him.'”

It was clear that the Mormon Church, while “officially” having “renounced” polygamy in 1893, was still too much like the FLDS Church is regarded today to be included among the world's religions.

However, Smith points out that while the 1893 Parliament of Religions claimed to be inclusive, it championed a traditional evangelical North America Christianity viewpoint. Even without the polygamy problem, the Mormon Church's claim of being the restored true Gospel of Jesus Christ, was not a popular message to the parliament.

The Chicago Herald newspaper, in comments that were later re-published in the Deseret News, did criticize the parliament for yanking Roberts at the last minute. The Mormon historian's remarks were later published in his book, “Defense of the Faith.” Smith notes that Robert's arguments included his claim that “Mormonism had the answer for many of the current problems plaguing Christianity, including the growing disaffection toward Christianity and the challenge of growing secularism.” As Smith adds, Roberts' theme — that the Mormons were the Kingdom of God — directly contradicted the professed purpose of the parliament.

Thus ended the LDS Church effort to influence the Chicago World's Fair. As mentioned, however, the Utah territory — three years from statehood — was better received.

(The Smith paper referred to here is from his doctoral dissertation. An earlier version was published in The Journal of Mormon History.)

Cache County’s Thatcher was an apostle who was dropped from the quorum

Nineteenth century Mormon apostle Moses Thatcher (above) is buried in the Logan City Cemetery. His death in 1909 at age 67 was national news. The prominent businessman, polygamist and politician never lost his fame, but he was famously smacked in a very public battle he waged with the LDS Church’s hierarchy in the mid 1890s.

In the Spring 1998 issue of Journal of Mormon History, Cache County LDS historian Kenneth W. Godfrey has a fascinating 35-page account of Thatcher’s battle with the LDS Church and his expulsion from the Quorum of the 12 Apostles. Intermixed in the drama is the war of words that was waged between the two competing newspapers in Utah; the anti-Mormon Salt Lake Tribune, which championed Thatcher, and the church’s Deseret News, which criticized him.

However, Moses Thatcher was no apostate, even if he did come within a hair of being excommunicated from the LDS Church for failure to sustain a “Political Manifesto” from church leaders. The manifesto required church leaders to seek ecclesiastical OK prior to accepting an outside calling or seeking political office. Thatcher was a Democrat, which put him in conflict with many church leaders.

For a very long time, Thatcher, in a very public manner, refused to sustain the manifesto. His argument was that he feared average church leaders would be prohibited from political activism, which he considered, correctly if interpreted it as such, as church dictating to state.

Thatcher wasn’t alone in his initial concerns. For a while fellow church leader B. H. Roberts supported him. Eventually, however, Thatcher became the solo nay vote on this among church leaders, and gradually he became a constant subject of criticism from President Wilfred Woodruff and others. However, church leaders, mindful of Thatcher’s status as an apostle, were quite patient with him, giving him lots of time to recuperate from a chronic bowel illness, and lots of time to reconsider his position. They tried, to no avail, to convince Thatcher that the manifesto would not restrict speech.

On Thursday, Nov. 19, 1896, Thatcher missed his last opportunity to meet with the church hierarchy and explain his position. At the meeting, he was dropped from the quorum and relieved of all priesthood responsibilities. The Salt Lake Tribune featured the news with a huge headline, “Deposed.” The Deseret News editorialized, “The leaven has been working for a long, long time and for well nigh half a score years this same result might have been feared,” records Godfrey.

After being dropped, recounts Godfrey, a still defiant Thatcher almost was elected — by the Democratic-controlled Utah State Senate — to the U.S. Senate. He was a frontrunner for the Democratic nomination, but was nosed out by Democrat Joseph L. Rawlins.

What killed Thatcher’s campaign was B.H. Roberts’ publicly opposing his candidacy. It was a clear indicator to the Cache County leader that losing the church approbation had secular consequences.

In August of 1897, Thatcher faced a church court that would determine whether he would remain a member of the LDS Church. At that time, Thatcher suddenly capitulated and recanted his previous opposition and criticisms. In fact, he admitted guilt to eight specific offenses and admitted “that he has obtained light wherein he was in the dark …”

Godfrey offers various ideas for what might have changed Thatcher’s ideas. One is that after the heat of the campaign, he could “reflect deeply and broadly” about the past events. Another was that the ostracism of the past 18 months since being dropped from the quorum was a reality he had a tough time dealing with.

The reason that seems most likely is that Thatcher was no longer ill. In the years prior and time of his dispute with the LDS Church leaders, Thatcher had suffered intensely from his bowel troubles. He had been addicted to morphine and treated for the pain as well as the tension associated with such, it’s very possible Thatcher was not thinking clearly.

There’s no doubt that church leaders were relieved that a prominent fellow member was back in the fold. As Godfrey puts it, “In short, when faced with being severed completely from Mormonism, a movement for which he had sacrificed so much, Thatcher finally chose church over state.”

For the rest of his life, Thatcher, who remained wealthy, was a partisan Democrat, In 1900, at Brigham Young College, he lectured in favor of socialism, recounts Godfrey.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Letter to a Doubter important essay from Mormon scholar Givens

LDS author and scholar Terryl Givens’ “Letter to a Doubter” has been widely circulated since he presented the essay/lecture in a speech to a Mormon fireside. The push to acknowledge doubt in one’s spiritual life, indeed to regard the “absence of certainty” as a component of true faith, has gained traction. In LDS General Conference, Apostle Jeffrey R. Holland told those that believe, but do not know, that they are following Christ’s counsel, who said, “Be not afraid, only believe.” (Read)

Givens’ essay is fascinating, and ideally suitable for this era, which is seeing apostasies that result from intense, appropriate scrutiny to long-held assumptions. He begins by pointing out that some “doubts … are predicated on misbegotten premises.” As an example he relates the doubt that troubled late LDS leader B.H. Roberts, who fretted over the many languages of the American Indians. Roberts’ error, which he shared with many church leaders, was assuming that the Book of Mormon spanned the entire Americas. Givens writes, “Nothing in the Book of Mormon suggests that Lehi’s colony expanded to fill the hemisphere. In fact, … the entire history of the Book of Mormon takes place within an area of Nephite and Lamanite habitation some 500 miles long and perhaps 200 miles wide.“

The money quote from Givens is this: “You see, even brilliant individuals and ordained Seventies can buy into careless assumptions that lead them astray. That Joseph Smith at some point entertained similar notions about Book of Mormon geography only makes it more imperative for members not to take every utterance of any leader as inspired doctrine.” For longstanding Mormons, that is not necessarily an easy transition. Authority is big in the church, and the words of a general authority, let alone an apostle or prophet, can be a debate-finisher.

But understanding that all people are fallible, as well as a realization that doubt is a component of true faith, are main themes of Givens’ advice. It’s well-needed, because, the LDS Church is losing young adults who are confronted, in an Internet-archived world, with contradictions that can easily dent weak faith that relies on claims of certainty.

Givens offers five components of belief that can lead to doubt. In The Prophetic Mantle, he reminds readers that the Scriptures, including The Bible, are full of prophets who err. They include Abraham. Moses, Jonah, and Paul. Givens writes, citing LDS Prophet Spencer W. Kimball’s repudiation of Brigham Young’s Adam-God heresy as an example, “… when Pres. Woodruff said the Lord would never suffer his servants to lead the people astray, we can only reasonably interpret that to mean the prophet will not teach us any soul destroying doctrine—not that they will never err.” Again, this addresses the incorrect assumption that whenever a prophet speaks, he is absolutely correct. This weak idea is easily disproved — just read many of Brigham Young’s discourses — but it can do damage to persons who demand no errors in their belief.

Another issue Givens addresses is the mistaken idea that God was silent on issues of theology, and that the Christian church was inactive, for centuries prior to 1820, when Joseph Smith received the First Vision. Instead, Givens urges those with doubts to see Smith’s mission not as starting over, but “that of bringing it all into one coherent whole, not reintroducing the gospel ex nihilo.”

The third part of Givens’ essay addresses the idea of “Mormon Exclusivity,” or the assumption that in a world of several billion, a few million Mormons have a “monopoly on salvation.” Givens then points out something that I deeply appreciate about my religion, that it offers salvation to virtually all of God’s children. He writes, “… the most generous, liberal, and universalist conception of salvation in all Christendom is Joseph Smith’s view.” Givens stresses the theology that “here and hereafter, a multitude of non-Mormons will participate in the Church of the Firstborn.”

The final two points of Givens’ essay are a rebuttal to the idea that organized religion is unnecessary and the misbegotten assumption that belief automatically brings personal satisfaction and personal revelations of truth. He explains that the gospel of Christ is a message that invites inclusion, and sharing, and spiritual sociality that exists on the earth, will exist in the afterlife. He writes, “In this light, the project of perfection, or purification and sanctification, is not a scheme for personal advancement, but a process of better filling — and rejoicing in — our role in what Paul called the body of Christ …”

As for the personal feelings of failure, disappointment, despair, and general unhappiness, traits that do not go away even when we profess a belief, Givens advises “three simple ideas: be patient, remember and take solace in the fellowship of the desolate.”

As Givens continues, “Patience does not mean to wait apathetically and dejectedly, but to anticipate actively on the basis of what we know; and what we know we must remember.”

Memory is a powerful component of faith and belief. One reason we are taught to gather in organized churches is to participate in the Sacrament, where we remember what Christ’s sacrifice has done for us.

And, as Givens relates, membership in the Society of the Desolate is something to be proud of. Its members include Mother Teresa, whom Givens quotes, said “I am told God loves me — and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul. … Heaven from every side is closed.”

If we take nothing else from “Letter to a Doubter,” please understand that even the most spiritual feel spiritually alone, not rarely but often. That too, is a test of faith.

In his conclusion, Givens urges that we be “grateful” for our doubts. He adds, “I am grateful for a propensity to doubt because it gives me the capacity to freely believe. … An overwhelming preponderance of evidence on either side would make our choice as meaningless as would a loaded gun pointed at our heads.”

I lack the talents Givens possesses to do justice to his discourse/essay, so I urge readers, again, to read it carefully. It’s important that we not allow our doubt to be exploited by others, but use it as an advantage designed to strengthen our spiritual beliefs.

(Letter to a Doubter can be purchased for 99 cents on Kindle.)

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

B.H. Roberts spent most of his life defending 'The Book of Mormon'

I ran across an interesting article in the Summer 1979 issue of Brigham Young University Studies. It’s “B.H. Roberts and The Book of Mormon,” and was written by Truman Madsen. Roberts was a remarkable man. Born in England, his birth father, and later a stepfather, both abandoned him and his family. He migrated to Utah early in his life and settled through a few rocky years struggling with the Word of Wisdom before straightening out, and eventually became a general authority at the age of 31.

He remained one for the rest of his life, dying in 1933 at 76. He served in World War I as a chaplain and was elected to the U.S. Congress in 1898, although that body refused to seat him because he was a polygamist. He married three wives and had 15 children.

Roberts was unique within the LDS hierarchy for his reasoning that evolution and Gospel doctrines did not conflict. He wrote a book, “The Truth, The Way, The Life,” that was not published due to the objections of creationist Apostle Joseph Fielding Smith. It eventually was published in 1994.

In the mid-1890s Roberts almost left the church over a disagreement on whether church authorities could be active in politics. He eventually apologized for the near apostasy.

Despite his maverick views, Roberts was respected by his colleagues in the church hierarchy. He was fascinated by “The Book of Mormon,” at one point calling it the “fifth Gospel.” He spent much of the second half of his life defending the book. According to Madsen’s piece, the unique doctrines of “The Book of Mormon” — so different from traditional christianity — and the biblical and historical knowledge within “The Book of Mormon” made it impossible for any man as unlearned as Joseph Smith to create it from scratch. “It imposes what Roberts called ‘a greater tax on human credulity’ to say Joseph Smith, or anyone in the nineteenth century, created it,” writes Madsen.

Roberts, explains Madsen, has a different viewpoint of what the book’s translation was like than perhaps the typical Latter-day Saint. Roberts did not regard it as “magical,” or in other words, just viewing the Urim and Thummim, seeing words, and writing them down. “On the contrary, ‘brain sweat’ was required, and preparation, and labor,” writes Madsen.

Besides, word-for-word translation is impossible, Roberts maintained. Smith had to use, in instances, what he had available to translate. That explains near copies of biblical chapters, biblical-like phrases, and even the inclusion of terms such as horses in “The Book of Mormon.”

Madsen lists 10 “attributes that define Roberts’ devotion to “The Book of Mormon.” One bit of information that surprised me was that Roberts enjoyed writing creative fiction based on “The Book of Mormon.” I hope it was better than most of the kitsch published today.

He wrote stories about Moroni, the Nephite nation and even a novel about Alma’s son, Corianton, which is described as “a tale of sneaking indulgence, and remorse and renewal.” I have read it and it’s a kitschy, fun read available for free on the Internet or via Kindle. Madsen adds that Roberts desperately wanted to see a major film based on “The Book of Mormon” produced. A movie was made of the Corianton novel, BYU has the only remaining copy and it was shown several years ago.

One category Madsen describes Roberts in regards to “The Book of Mormon” is the role of “devil’s advocate.” As mentioned earlier, Roberts intellect brought him much respect among general authorities. He spent many of the final years of his life providing church leaders with hypothetical attacks on the legitimacy of “The Book of Mormon.” These efforts, which Madsen compares to a skilled lawyer preparing to better understand a courtroom adversary, have led to claims that Roberts lost or questioned his testimony regarding “The Book of Mormon.”

Madsen doubts these assertions. Roberts told colleagues that these reports were never intended to be balanced. They were intended as tools to increase learning about “The Book of Mormon.”

Roberts’ greatest influence as a church leader is that his example reminds us that our beliefs need to be tested for them to grow. If they remain unchallenged, they stay weak and susceptible to failure in times of stress.

Yet Roberts remained in awe of the personal power “The Book of Mormon” gave him. Madsen writes, “Though renowned for his gifts as a speaker, B.H. Roberts agonized over the fact that he could never communicate the intensity, the power, the consuming white light that seemed to him to shine through the book.”

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardNET

Eternal progression after death is fun speculation for Mormons

A key difference between Latter-day Saints and many other Christian churches is that Mormons believe that there are various post-judgment kingdoms in the outskirts of heaven. There’s the Telestial Kingdom, for anyone from Hitler to that lawyer who’s cheating on his wife. There’s the Terrestrial Kingdom, for those decent folks who said “not now” when the missionaries came by the door. And then there’s the Celestial Kingdom, the jackpot prize.

But even the Celestial Kingdom comes in degrees. According to Joseph Smith, there are three degrees of glory in the Celestial Kingdom. So, there’s the big leagues, triple-AAA ball and AA ball in the Celestial Kingdom. The Terrestrial Kingdom is eternal single-A ball while Telestial Kingdom folks are damned to the rookie leagues forever.

And there’s reason I say leagues, because Mormon pop theology has flirted with the idea of progression within the less kingdoms ... and even from kingdom to kingdom. 

I refer to one of the more early B.H. Roberts books, “Outlines of Ecclesiastical History,” first written in 1893, but the edition I have read is from 1927. The copy I read was used by an LDS missionary of that era. Roberts was one of the “progressive model” Mormon leaders of the first half of the 20th century. He favored a more expansive interpretation of Mormon doctrine. It was a doctrinal battle that Roberts and others would eventually lose to future Church president Joseph Fielding Smith, who headed the rise of a very conservative church leadership.

Anyway, Roberts, on page 416, parts 19 and 20 of The Restoration of the Gospel section, writes:

(19) “The question of advancement within the great divisions of glory celestial, terrestrial, and telestial; as also the question of advancement from one sphere of glory to another remains to be considered. In the revelation from which we have summarized what has been written here, in respect to the different degrees of glory, it is said that those of the terrestrial glory will be ministered unto by those of the celestial; and those of the telestial will be ministered unto by those of the terrestrial — that is, those of the higher glory minister to those of a lesser glory. We can conceive of no reason for all this administration of the higher to the lower, unless it be for the purpose of advancing our Father's children along the lines of eternal progression. Whether or not in the great future, full of so many possibilities now hidden from us, they of the lesser glories after education and advancement within those spheres may at last emerge from them and make their way to the higher degrees of glory until at last they attain to the highest, is not revealed in the revelations of God, and any statement made on the subject must partake more or less of the nature of conjecture.

(20) ”But if it be granted that such a thing is possible, they who at the first entered into the celestial glory — having before them the privilege also of eternal progress — have been moving onward, so that the relative distance between them and those who have fought their way up from the lesser glories, may be as great when the latter have come into the degrees of celestial glory in which the righteous at first stood, as it was at the commencement; and thus between them is an impassable gulf which time cannot destroy. Thus: those whose faith and works are such only as to entitle them to inherit a telestial glory, may arrive at last where those whose works in this life were such as to entitle them to entrance into the celestial kingdom — they may arrive where these were, but never where they are.“

Now here is where things get really interesting. For a long time, ”where they are“ is where section 20 ends. HOWEVER, if I go to the 1927 edition of ”Outlines of Ecclesiastical History,“ which is the edition I read, Roberts continues with this fascinating ”conjecture“:

”But if it be granted that the chief fact about Intelligences is that they have power to add fact to fact and thus build up knowledge, and through knowledge have wisdom, and thus make progress; and if to such intelligence there is granted eternal life — immortality — then it is useless to postulate any limitations for them; for in the passing of even a few thousands of millions of years, even if progress be very slow — there will come a time when these intelligences — men and women of even the telestial glory — may become very acceptable characters, and very important personages.“

This is radical doctrine, and very interesting to read. It brings Mormonism back to its most progressive roots. But it’s hard to find the 1927 edition. A newer online ebook restoration (here) also omits the 1927 complete version. Frankly, Roberts’ later speculation is hard to locate. But it was once published. Other early LDS leaders also seemed to believe in a post-mortal progression between kingdoms, including Wilford Woodruff and Franklin D. Richards. 

Since 1927, the idea of eternal progression toward exaltation has become a pariah. I came of age as a young Mormon in the 1970s and I recall more than one teacher telling classes that the idea that you could progress from any of the lower kingdoms to exaltation was damnable to consider. In fact, I recall teachers citing Bruce R. McConkie, who described the idea as one of the ”Seven Deadly Heresies.“ (Here)

What is included in Roberts’ 1927 version was part of Mormonism’s move to more speculation of doctrine, more discussion. It was not to last, though. I have no idea if the propensity to seeing the edited version of ”Outlines ...“ online is due to disapproval of the 1927 edition, but I would not be surprised. 

If you go to to FairMormon wiki page and inquire into eternal progression into kingdoms the answer is more or less, ”there is no official church position on this, but it probably isn’t true.“

Going back to Roberts’ book ”Outlines ...,“ in section 7, page 408 he writes:

”Naturally the question arises why was the gospel preached to the spirits in prison who had once been disobedient if there were no means by which it could be applied to them for their salvation. We can scarcely suppose that Messiah would preach the gospel to them if it could do them no good. He did not go there to mock their sufferings or to add something to the torture of their damnation by explaining the beauties of that salvation now forever beyond their reach! Such a supposition would at once be revolting to reason, insulting to the justice of God, and utterly repugnant to the dictates of mercy!“

That part of Roberts’ teachings remains accepted doctrine. It’s a reminder that the LDS belief that God does not have a ”line“ that divides all in a ”heaven“ and ”hell“ is still evidence of the faith’s progressive roots.

So, despite mostly successful efforts to make progression within kingdoms a ”heresy“ to speculate about, Mormons do wonder about these issues, and even discuss them among ourselves from time to time. (To read a fascinating article on Roberts’ and other debates within the LDS leadership go to http://signaturebooks.com/2010/09/excerpts-the-truth-the-way-the-life/.)

-- Doug Gibson

This essay was previously published at StandardBlogs.