LDS Church News once spoke positively of Hitler, Nazi Germany

History is blunt. Left to itself, it doesn’t spin or gloss over unpleasant facts. The positive side to unvarnished history is that it can prevent future mistakes. There are many examples in history of religions enabling evil. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not an exception to this rule. A glance at the Dec. 9, 1933, LDS “Church News,” published with “The Deseret News,” contains a particularly unpleasant “puff piece” on Nazi Germany, and its leaders, Adolf Hitler, as well as Joseph Goebbels.

It’s titled, “Mormonism” in the New Germany,” and penned by the unfortunately over-enthusiastic Dale Clark, is grotesque in its effusive praise for Hitler. Here is an example: “As a specimen of physical endurance Hitler can easily take his place along side the athletes who are usually taken as classic examples. His 14 year struggle which brought him to power in Germany put him to a terrific physical strain (sic). Besides the great responsibility there has been trials and conflicts, and campaigning so strenuous that it has required his attention night and day, many times making it necessary for him to travel great distances by auto or plane, catching up on his sleep underway to fit him for the multitudes who would gather to hear him wherever he had time to stop.”

It’s amazing today to read such a sidling, fawning account of the 20th century madman, and I wonder if the Nazis controlled or edited what Clark submitted from Germany. The alternative is even worse to comprehend. In other parts of the article, the author sycophantically points out similarities between LDS Doctrine and Nazi Germany. Readers learn that Hitler and Goebbels lead “Word of Wisdom”-type lifestyles and do not drink or smoke. Also, the German custom of “Fast Sunday,” where Germans fast and donate the cost of the missed meals to a winter charity fund, is extolled for its similarity to Mormonism. Clark writes, again in press-release style, “… it has the important purpose of developing that spirit of sacrifice that is so being stressed in the new Germany, and also of creating more of a feeling of unity and brotherhood through voluntary mutual help.”

Early in the article, Clark writes, ominously, that religious freedom flourishes in Nazi Germany, except for “a few sects (which) have been prohibited or restricted.” We can guess at least one people of faith persecuted in Hitler’s Germany at that time — the Jews. And this leads to the most disturbing part of Clark’s national hagiography: finding a missionary moment in Nazi Germany’s persecution of Jews. After detailing previous difficulties to get access to Germany’s archives to do genealogy, Clark writes, “Now, due to the importance given to the racial question, and the almost necessity of proving that one’s grandmother was not a Jewess, the old record books have been dusted off and stand ready and waiting for use. No questions are asked. In fact some of the Saints instead of being refused by the pastors now have received letters of encouragement complimenting them for their patriotism.”

It is impossible to read that and not shiver with repulsion at why the “old record books” stood ready and waiting for use. Clark’s effusive cheerleading is a dark moment in LDS history. But, as mentioned, it is history, delivered in a blunt, pure fashion. It underscores the enabling that many organizations, religious or otherwise, used to have a presence in the heart of evil. Church President Heber J. Grant, no doubt worried about persecution Mormons might receive, urged members in Germany in 1937 to get along and not cause problems. Another disturbing example — as late as 1939 — of Mormon enabling of Nazism was remarks in a Nazi media organ written by West German LDS mission president, Alfred C. Rees. Like Clark, Rees enthusiastically compared Nazism with Mormonism. (read)

There are more courageous exceptions, of course. One Latter-day Saint who stood up to Hitler’s rule was Helmuth Hubener, who died a martyr at 17, tortured and beheaded in 1942 for belonging to an anti-Nazi group and publishing anti-Nazi leaflets. Hubener, who is the subject of a Gunter Grass novel, was first repulsed by Nazism as a boy when he witnessed anti-Semitism in his local ward. Hubener was quickly excommunicated by local authorities. However, his excommunication was later reversed by LDS authorities, who said local German leaders had not followed proper procedures. According to historians Alan F. Keele and Douglas F. Tobler, Hubener’s leaflets show that the teenager regarded his opposition to Nazism as a component of his religion. Hubener’s final words to the judges who sentenced him to die, “Wait. Your turn will come,” underscore his courage and resolve.

Hubener’s branch president was a fervent Nazi, who played Hitler’s speeches at the branch. Another branch member, Heinrich Worbs, was tortured at a concentration camp for calling a state-honored Nazi a “butcher.” Worbs, according to Keele and Tobler, was so physically ruined after his detention that he died months after release.

Clark’s article from 1933 fascinates me as much for its style as its repulsive cheerleading. It contains several examples of modern totalitarian propaganda efforts, that were also used, and refined, by Soviet-led communism. There’s the effusive praise for the leaders, praise for the party (in one instance Clark uses the phrase “originality and political genius of the Hitler party” to tout relief efforts in Germany), and the use of the terms “voluntary” and “unity” as propaganda phrases. For an example, go back to the third paragraph of this piece, where Clark writes, “… it has the important purpose of developing that spirit of sacrifice that is so being stressed in the new Germany, and also of creating more of a feeling of unity and brotherhood through voluntary mutual help.” One more example of modern propaganda includes Clark’s description of posters from youth Nazi organizations against tobacco and women’s cosmetics.

As mentioned, blunt history can also be a teaching tool. Clark’s Church News article would never be repeated today. Unfortunately, when adverse history is not blunt but is instead de-emphasized, massaged, or rationalized, it can be repeated. To read the Dec. 9, 1933, Deseret News and Church News, go here (page 3 of Church News section).

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs

When Socialism was popular with Mormons and Utah

Mormons, as well as the state of Utah, have been identified as conservative/Republican for so long that it may surprise many to know that 100 years ago more than a few Mormons in Utah were card-carrying socialists, rallying against the evils of capitalism.

No, socialists were never the majority in Utah, nor were most socialists in Utah LDS, but in the years between 1900 and 1920, the Socialist Party in Utah enjoyed some triumphs.

In the early 20th century, about 40 percent of the members of the Utah Socialist Party were LDS. There were many thousands of socialists in Utah, which was only one of 18 states that had socialists in its state legislature. In fact, there were nine socialist publications in Utah, with the largest, The Intermountain Worker, boasting a circulation of 5,000.

If you can find the spring, 1985 edition of Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, John R. Sillito (of Weber State University) and John S. McCormick (of the Utah State Historical Society), provide the interesting information on the rise and fall of the Utah and LDS socialists. Utah socialists controlled the entire administrations in Bingham, Murray and twice in Eureka. The demographics of Utah’s socialists mirrored the national party at that time. The Socialist Party peaked in 1912, with presidential candidate Eugene V. Debs getting close to 1 million votes.

Eureka, a mining town, was the center of socialist success. According to Sillito and McCormick, They write, “In 1907, the voters of Eureka elected Wilford Woodruff Freckleton to the city council as a socialist. Halfway through his term. Mormon Church authorities called him on a mission to England. Upon his return two years later, he resumed his involvement in the Socialist Party and in 1917 was again elected to the city council on the socialist ticket.

A.L. Porter, a Mormon and prominent Springville socialist, wrote this declaration of beliefs that was unearthed Springville High School gymnasium, dedicated in 1931 (Porter was the janitor): “Our political faith is Socialism, our religious faith is (Mormon) the Latter-day Saints. We are living under capitalism and the wealth of the world is privately owned by individuals ... but this building is collectively owned by the community ... It is built by wage slavery as all labor at this point in history is ...”

In 1981, the authors recount, the opening of the cornerstone of the Gila Stake Academy in Thatcher, Ariz., revealed a socialist manifesto written by a prominent Mormon of that period, George W. Williams, who helped construct the building. Williams, born in Toquerville, Utah, firmly stated his beliefs, including, “millions are walking the streets of our large cities seeking employment. The capitalists who own the machinery of governments are using every means under their control to hold in check the rise of the workers who are beginning to show their strength ...” Williams “expected those who read his statement in the future to ‘be living in the light of a better day,’” write Sillito and McCormick.

More than 100 socialists were elected in Utah in 19 communities during that era, but by 1920 the movement had already peaked and socialism began its slide into irrelevance that remains today. Sillito and McCormick offer three reasons why the socialist movement waned in Utah. The first was the memory of the unsuccessful United Order socialist-like communities. While the United Order doctrine attracted some Mormons to socialism, its failures also led to a lack of enthusiasm for a collective society.

The second reason cited is that many non-LDS socialists were very critical of the Mormon Church and its cultural and political influences within the state. One prominent Utah socialist, Murray B. Schick, in a national socialist newspaper, harshly criticized the church for its emerging movements into the corporate world.

History has proven Schick correct, at least from a socialist perspective, but his and others’ critiques turned off many active Mormons from socialism.

The third reason, according to Sillito and McCormick, is that the LDS Church was moving toward a more free-enterprise, capitalistic institution. “Mormon leaders ... were clearly, if unofficially, anti-socialist, just as they were anti-union...,” write the authors.

The growth of Utah socialism clashed with the LDS Church’s deliberate decision to try to move into the mainstream of American society. In that kind of battle, at least in Utah, the Socialist Party was no match for the Mormon Church.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardNet

Decanonization has occurred in Mormon scriptures

Remember the Lectures on Faith sections in the Mormon scripture, “Doctrine and Covenants?” No? But they were there for 86 years? I’m reading an 1918 “Doctrine and Covenants” and sure enough, there’s Lectures on Faith.” What about “Section 101″ in early D&C editions, the “Article on Marriage” that says men and women should only have one spouse? No, haven’t heard of that one either? It was eventually deleted by church leaders and replaced by Section 132, which details celestial marriage and having multiple wives. Decanonization of scripture is not talked about much in the LDS church, and it’s certainly far less frequent than examples of added scripture in Mormon canon, but it does happen.

In the fall 1987 issue of “Dialogue,” historians Richard S. Van Wagoner, Steven C. Walker and Allen D. Roberts explore “The ‘Lectures on Faith’: A Case Study in Decanonization.” (Read) The lectures, comprised of seven chapters and totaling 70-plus pages, were part of the “School of the Elders” that Joseph Smith had in Kirtland, Ohio. Most scholars believe church leader Sidney Rigdon wrote most of them, with Smith and another leader, W.W. Phelps, writing one each. According to the Dialogue article, Smith “accepted responsibility for ‘every principle advanced.’” However, in 1921, via a committee of church leaders, the Lectures on Faith were deleted from the D&C. The explanation given, the Dialogue authors explain, underscores the LDS Church’s muddled explanations for why canon is deleted. The committee wrote, “… Those lessons were prepared for use in the School of Elders … but they were never presented nor accepted by the Church as being otherwise than theological lectures or lessons.“

Related to this issue is confusion from LDS authorities over what constitutes revelations. In testimony before a court and later before Congress, church presidents Wilford Woodruff and Joseph F. Smith stated that church members have the right to reject revelation and that true revelation needs to be accepted by the church. It’s likely those statements were part of efforts to avoid secular pressure on the LDS faith, which was dealing with the unpopularity of polygamy. Most other church leaders, including George Q. Cannon and Bruce R. McConkie, strongly reject the idea that a prophet’s revelations from God need to be approved by members. Even the D&C has conflicting advice on revelations. As the Dialogue article points out, Section 68:4 seems to indicate that once a prophet declares revelation, it is revelation. However, Section: 28:13 says that common consent is needed for church doctrine. (On a personal note, I’ve always been taught that when the LDS prophet claims revelation, debate ends.)

One reason the Lectures on Faith may have been decanonized, the Dialogue authors posit, is that its teaching as to the character of Heavenly Father — as taught by Smith in the 1830s — differ from later teachings. As the Dialogue authors explain, the Lectures on Faith read, “There are two personages who constitute the great matchless, governing and supreme power over all things, by whom all things were created, and made. … They are the Father and the Son — the Father being a personage of spirit, glory, and power … the son … a personage of tabernacle, made or fashioned like unto man.”

What the Lectures on Faith and its subsequent decanonization teach observers is that Mormon doctrine was in a constant evolution in the 1830s. It was not until 1841, more than a score of years after the First Vision, that Smith taught that God had a body of flesh and bone. This doctrine would later be expanded in Smith’s 1844 King Follett sermon, where, the authors point out, Smith taught: “God, who sits enthroned in yonder heavens is a man like unto one of yourselves,” and “You have got to learn how to be Gods yourself.”

Perhaps the most important thing to learn from the Lectures on Faith’s history, as well as the deletion of “Section 101″ of the early D&C, is that Joseph Smith’s understanding of the doctrine of the church he started grew over time. Yet, the majority of Latter-day Saints today, as the Dialogue authors concede, are quite unaware of these evolutionary changes.

As for the Lectures on Faith, while obscure today, are considered of value by the LDS Church and easily accessible to buy or read for free on the Internet.

--- Doug Gibson
--- Originally published on StandardBlogs

Martin Harris: gullible, amiable, dedicated, prone to bumbling

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Martin Harris, one of two of the Three Witnesses to the Book of Mormon to die a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To my knowledge, no esteemed biography of Harris has been written, although H. Michael Marquardt has written a strong article of his years in Kirtland 1830-1870 in the Fall 2002 issue of Dialogue. (read) Harris is an important man in Mormon history. Without his farm being mortgaged, publication of The Book of Mormon would have been delayed. But Harris, born in 1783, was also a gullible soul, an amiable, man prone to hyperbole and bumbling, a sort of “Chief Wiggum” of Mormon history; a man who would walk the straight and narrow like a drunk trying to maneuver a policeman’s chalk line.

However, let there be no dispute that Martin Harris believed in The Book of Mormon. Like the other witnesses, he never recanted his testimony. The one-time wealthy farmer remained prosperous until he mortgaged his farm and provided other funds to raise $5,000, a small fortune, to publish the Book of Mormon. To give one an idea of how much $5,000 was in 1831, one can note that $5,000 in 1913 is worth $114,000 today. Not surprisingly, Harris’ wife, Lucy, was opposed to her husband paying the tab for the restored scripture. Mormon lore has it that Harris, the original transcriber, begged Smith for the first 116 pages of translated material, brought it home, and promptly lost it. In my youth, I was always told the “shrewish” Mrs. Harris was to blame. One Sunday school teacher told me she took the pages and burned them in the fireplace? (In the recent “Joseph Smith: Plates of Gold” film, a more mystical, divine explanation was offered — the missing pages disappeared from a locked drawer.) In any event, Harris has always played the bumbling, foolish, dimwitted “heavy” who deprived the world of “The Book of Lehi.”

To add insult to injury, the Book of Mormon received negative reviews and poor sales, and Harris lost his farm, and later his wife.

Harris remained committed to Mormonism, though, and became an early LDS traveling elder. However, like other witnesses Oliver Cowdery and David Whitmer, he later apostasized from the original LDS Church, the reason was the failure of a church-sponsored financial institution in 1837 Kirtland. That was a stressful time for the young church, as many members lost both their savings and faith as a result of the ill-advised financial venture. However, Harris remained on the pheriphery of the LDS Church — after Lucy’s death in 1836, he had married 22-year-old Caroline Young, a niece of Brigham Young, and had seven children with her.

In 1840, Harris was back in the LDS Church and lived in Nauvoo. When Joseph Smith was martyred in 1844, Harris did not accompany Brigham Young and other members to the Rocky Mountains. By now an old man, he became a Mormonism offshoot-hopper, aligning himself with James J. Strang, David Whitmer, Gladden Bishop, William Smith, and even the Shakers. In one, humiliating instance, Harris, financed by Strang to preach in England shortly after Smith’s murder, was shunned and ridiculed by Mormon leaders. According to Marquardt’s Dialogue piece, an LDS newspaper of that era warned against Harris, saying “his own unbridled tongue will soon show out specimens of folly enough to give any person a true index of the character of the man.”

As he became more erratic, Harris’ slowly descended into poverty and obscurity. In the mid 1850s, his wife Caroline left him and — with their children — went to Utah. Harris became a self-appointed caretaker of the deserted LDS temple in Kirtland, Ohio, and described himself as a Mormon preacher.

For the Harris family, and the LDS Church, the saga of Martin Harris had a happy ending. As 1870 approached, sympathetic Mormon missionaries, feeling compassion for the 87-year-old Harris, raised money for him to join his family in Utah. In an 1881 issue of The Latter Day Saints’ Millennial Star, taken from earlier Deseret News reports, there is an account of Harris’ return to “Zion.” Not surprisingly, it recounts perhaps the last encounter with the supernatural Martin Harris experienced. I quote from the article: “A very singular incident occurred at this time. While Martin was visiting his friends, bidding them farewell, his pathway crossed a large pasture, in which he became bewildered, dizzy, faint and staggering through the blackberry vines that are so abundant in that vicinity, his clothes torn, bloody and faint, he lay down under a tree to die. After a time, he revived, called on the Lord, and finally at twelve midnight, found his friend, and in his fearful condition was cared for and soon regained his strength. He related this incident as a snare of the adversary to hinder him from going to Salt Lake City.”

Harris was rebaptized upon his arrival in Utah. He eventually moved to Clarkston and lived, by all accounts, happily until his death there at age 92 in 1875. To this day, Clarkston hosts The Martin Harris Pageant, a play based on his life that attracts thousands to the small community.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Orson Pratt Jr., Erastus Snow, apostasy and excommunication

(Above, Orson Pratt Jr., from Pratt Family Photo Project)

I’ve been reading a lot about Orson Pratt, the early Mormon apostle and leader who almost left the young church over allegations of seduction and adultery involving his wife, Sarah M. Pratt, the prophet Joseph Smith and Smith’s assistant, John C. Bennett. Later, after reconciling his wife’s accusations against Smith and Bennett with his belief in Mormonism, the apostle Pratt often clashed with Smith’s successor, Brigham Young, over doctrines, including who God was and His attributes.

His disputes with Young cost Pratt a chance to be president of the church. His dispute with Smith, and the way he resolved it, ultimately cost him his relationship with his first wife, her belief in the church he sacrificed so much for, and the belief of the children he bore with Sarah, save one. That brings us to Orson Pratt, Jr., the eldest son of Orson and Sarah.

Orson Jr. was a lot like his father. Like his dad, he was an intellectual man who applied reason and evidence with faith. He was also an accomplished musician, talented enough to teach at the university level. Unlike his father, though, Orson Jr. was not able to reconcile his theological doubts with his respect for reason. He became a disbeliever of Mormonism, and in a very public forum in southern Utah, where he had been a member of that area’s theological hierarchy, Orson Jr. told a large crowd that he no longer believed Joseph Smith was a prophet or that Mormonism was the true church. His discourse took place in September 1864, the same month he was excommunicated at the urging of LDS Church Apostle Erastus Snow, who had supplanted Orson Sr., on a mission to England, as sole leader of the southern Utah LDS cotton mission.

In Orson Pratt Jr.: Gifted Son of an Apostle and an Apostate,” published in the journal Dialogue, Richard S. and Mary C. Van Wagoner provide more insight into Orson Jr.’s decision to leave Mormonism. Orson Jr. claims to have disbelieved Mormonism at an early age. This is supported by his brother Arthur telling a reporter that his mother, Sarah Pratt, would secretly teach the children — while Orson Sr. was away on his many missions — to disbelieve in Joseph Smith, polygamy and Mormonism.

Nevertheless, Orson Jr. lived the life of a favored young Mormon son. He married Susan Snow, the daughter LDS leader Zerubabel Snow, was appointed to a Salt Lake City alderman and LDS high council member in his early 20s, played organ concerts privately for Brigham Young and other Mormon leaders and became a prominent music teacher. In the early 1860s he followed his father to the southern Utah mission and was quickly elected St. George city alderman and LDS high councilman.

However, in 1864 Orson Jr. refused a mission call from President Brigham Young, and action that in those days, explain the Van Wagoners, “was tantamount to an announcement of personal apostasy.” Later that year, Orson Jr., writing in the literary journal, “Veprecula,” under the pen name, “Veritas,” argued that faith could not derive from the supernatural, but “must be a careful and patient exercise of reason.” Young Pratt’s reasoning was similar to his father’s earlier declarations that evidence must support faith, but Orson Jr. took a step his father never did — he applied that reasoning to reject his father’s teachings.

There is a certain irony to Erastus Snow — Orson Jr.’s uncle — leading the excommunication of Orson Jr., given that Orson Sr. had helped convert Snow to Mormonism 30 years earlier in Vermont. In his discourse, Orson Jr. denounced Snow as a man who had actively, but secretly, tried to convince his wife, Susan, to reject him. As Gary Bergera explains in his book, “Conflict in the Quorum: Orson Pratt, Brigham Young, Joseph Smith,” Snow’s beliefs on how to treat unbelieving family members may have played a large role in his desire to punish Orson Jr. with excommunication. In an 1857 LDS general conference address, Snow’s harsh beliefs on how to handle in-family apostasy were recorded: “…Sometimes we may err by being remiss in duty — too lenient in our families, and some of us may be under condemnation by being too careless about transgressors in our families; for if we hold fellowship with transgressors and spirits that are in rebellion against God and that will not repent and humble themselves — if we close our ears to it and go to sleep while wickedness is stalking unrebuked through our habitations, we become partakers in that transgression, and the consequences thereof will stick to us. …”

Snow went on to urge LDS families to send siblings and spouses who rejected the LDS Church teachings away from their families and out into the world, “better this than to harbour them where they were like a viper … corrupting and corroding in the midst of … family.”

The idea that members should cast out every young adult who rejects the Gospel of their parents fit the times of 1857, a time when the LDS church was at its most orthodox, and apostles such as George Albert Smith were sent to all corners of Utah to preach “us against them” fire-and-brimstone speeches; of such rhetoric was the Mountain Meadows Massacre wrought. But it hardly applied to the mild, academically talented, gifted musician, Orson Pratt Jr., who in more civil times would have been quietly released from his callings and left to live his existence outside the LDS Church without the theological stain of excommunication. Orson Pratt, Jr., by the way, lived a quiet, distinguished life in Ogden and Salt Lake City before dying in late 1903. He is buried in Salt Lake City and received a respectful obituary in the church-owned Deseret News. As late as September 1903, the ailing Pratt, who had moved to Ogden for his health, advertised in the Standard-Examiner for music students.

Mentioned in Bergera’s book is the suggestion that Orson Jr.’s excommunication was an attempt to embarrass his father and weaken his influence in the Quorum of the Twelve. According to Bergera, Orson Jr. initially refused to resign from his church position because he feared a “possible backlash for his father.” Also, Brigham Young blamed Orson Sr. for his son’s apostasy, calling his then-senior apostle “at heart an infidel.”

-- Doug Gibson

-- This post was originally published at StandardBlogs

The last years of William B. Smith a mix of persistent hope and pity

In 1878, William B. Smith, brother to the Mormon prophet Joseph Smith, apostle to the LDS Church in his early 20s, and briefly LDS Church patriarch in his mid-30s, was essentially forgotten. The most volatile member of the Smith family had not only been kicked out of the Utah Mormon church, he had been tossed from several other offshoots of post-Nauvoo Mormonism. He had even failed as a Baptist preacher. As 1878 began, there was one option left for Smith, now 66. The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, headed by his nephew, Joseph Smith III, was preparing a conference in Plano, Ill.

As Paul M. Edwards relates in the Dialogue magazine article “William B. Smith: The Persistent “Pretender,” (here) Smith III, who recognized his uncle’s value as a link to his father’s early church history, visited William. The pair discussed William’s proposed acceptance into the RLDS Church. At first, William demanded that he be inserted in the RLDS Quorum of the 12 Apostles. He also wanted to “be received into the Reorganization on the basis of his former membership.”

Smith III never seriously considered having his uncle be an apostle, but he was OK with William’s previous LDS affiliation qualifying him for membership into the RLDS church. As it was, William B. Smith was accepted into the church as a high priest. William’s official position with the RLDS was as a missionary in Hamilton, Mo. As mentioned, his value was reminiscing of his time with his more-famous late brother. However, the old “lost apostle” hadn’t yet lost his ambition. If he couldn’t be an apostle, William hoped he could become the RLDS Church patriarch. His rationale was that he had been the final “legitimate” patriarch with the Mormon church before its move to Utah.

Edwards includes this letter William wrote to the Saints Herald, an RLDS publication, saying: “that this office of Patriarch is an office that belongs in the Church of Christ; and that whosoever is appointed to fill the place left by the death of Hyrum Smith will hold the right to the same presiding authority. ... Joseph, inherited the patriarchate by lineal descent from Jacob who was the father of the twelve patriarchs; and from father Joseph Smith, the patriarchal office was given, as the revelation of 1841 declares, by blessing and by right, for such is the order of this evangelical priesthood handed down from father to son. ... It is the duty of the First Presidency to select and ordain the Patriarch, that is to fill the space left vacant by the death of Hyrum Smith.” (1881, 82)

A key problem with William’s effort is that the RLDS Church, at that time, had little use for the office of church patriarch. Edwards includes the comment of then-RLDS apostle Jason Briggs, who called the office of patriarch “a ‘wart upon the ecclesiastical tree, unknown in the Bible, or Book of Mormon.’” In fact, as Edwards adds, Briggs wanted to eradicate the office. Joseph Smith III put off William’s request to be church patriarch. Later, he learned that his uncle was considering writing a biography of Joseph Smith. At that time, the RLDS Church, and Smith III, were actively trying to preserve the fiction that Joseph Smith had not practiced polygamy, and that it was an invention of the Utah Mormons.

In Edwards’ article is this excerpt from an 1882 letter to William Smith from his nephew: “I have long been engaged in removing from father’s memory and from the early church, the stigma and blame thrown upon him because of polygamy, and have at last lived to see the cloud rapidly lifting. And would not consent to see further blame attached, by blunder now. Therefore uncle, bear in mind our standing today before the world as defenders of Mormonism from Polygamy, and go ahead with your personal recollections of Joseph and Hyrum.”

In the letter, Joseph Smith III instructed his elderly uncle to only remember admirable things about Joseph and Hyrum Smith, meaning again, no mention of polygamy. Also, he mentions the possibility of William making money on the book “if the right sort of enterprising men got hold of it.”

As William Smith entered the final years of his life, money became his main goal. In 1891, at the age of 80, living in Osterdock, Iowa, with his wife, on a military pension of $84 a year, he began a correspondence with RLDS bishop, and apostle, William Kelly. Smith, too feeble to maintain ambitions of high ecclesiastical office, merely wanted to make ends meet. Again, these pleas from William were put off, although occasionally stipends of money would be sent to him.

The letters from William Smith include resentment that his requests for additional funds are largely ignored. In late 1891, asking for $8 a month remittance, Edwards notes some of the arguments he used: “William ... asked: Who helped remove the tar from Joseph Smith? Who stood guard for long hours to protect Joseph Smith’s life? Who was driven from his home and forced to move from place to place in the name of the church, sleeping on the ground and in tents, to do the work of the Lord in Iowa and Illinois? He closed the letter by telling Bishop Kelly that ‘I think it due me that you place a salary on my family of eight dollars per month.’”

Writing to Kelly in late 1892, William again criticized the RLDS Church for not having a patriarch: “Then there is the patriarchal office the seed of which was sown in the church among all the prophets, a seed that was planted ... in the church of 1830. ... My nephew is lame on some of these points, the Church under him is not yet perfect in organization ...”

A month before William Smith died on Nov. 18, 1893, Joseph Smith III asked his uncle for more “evidence” that polygamy was a creation of the Utah Mormons. William dutifully obliged, saying that the polygamy taught in Nauvoo was of “the Brigham party,” comprised of apostates.

The last years of William B. Smith were those of an old man who had sown his oats and was in pasture. A man who had more than once behaved like a rake and a thug was toothless. His unrealized desire to become RLDS patriarch was a compromise from earlier higher desires. The condescending deference paid William by his nephew probably met his needs, if not his wants. It is a pitiful, but not unhappy end for the brother of the prophet. After William’s death, the RLDS ordained a patriarch.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

The Adam-God debate, or how an apostle bested a prophet

(Can't find the Cal Grondahl cartoon that went with this post, so until I do, enjoy this Cal "Culture of Mormonism" classic.

We Mormons shy away from the old relic called the Adam-God doctrine. In recent years, the late prophet Spencer W. Kimball denounced it from the pulpit, as did the late apostle Bruce R. McConkie in “Mormon Doctrine.” McConkie added that those who said that Brigham Young pushed it had taken Mormonism’s greatest leader out of context.

But the later denials are, to be frank, historical revisionism. Brigham Young did believe Adam was the god of our earth, and that doctrine was pushed with fervor by Young and many church leaders for decades. It was debated by LDS apostles as late as the 1890s. Apostles Heber C. Kimball and George Q. Cannon believed Adam was our God.

Why the Adam-God doctrine never gained enough traction in the LDS Church and was eventually ruefully de-emphasized by Young is mostly due to one man, the LDS apostle, Orson Pratt, who just as fiercely opposed the Adam-God doctrine and backed up his opposition with LDS scriptures. Supporters of the Adam-God doctrine were finally forced into vague defenses along the lines of “God has not revealed the details of this wondrous doctrine.”

The Adam-God debate that flourished for so long among the LDS faithful and hierarchy is detailed in the spring 1982 issue of Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought. The article, by BYU graduate David John Buerger, is fascinating reading, and makes me wish the LDS Church would offer more information about this historically interesting period of its development. On April 9, 1852, Young said this during a general conference speech: “Now, hear it, O inhabitants of the earth, Jew and Gentile, Saint and Sinner! When our Father Adam came into the garden of Eden, he came into it with a celestial body, and brought Eve, one of his wives, with him. … He is our Father and our God, and the only God with whom we have to do.”

Young added that Jesus Christ was a spiritual son of Adam: “Jesus, our Elder Brother, was begotten in the flesh by the same character that was in the Garden of Eden, and who is our Father in Heaven. …” Young added that this doctrine would matter in the salvation or damnation of listeners.
As Buerger recounts, leading Mormons, including future prophet Wilford Woodruff, clearly understood that Young had decreed Adam as our God.

In later dispatches, published in The Millennial Star, the church strengthened its Adam-God doctrine by listing a geneology for the creators. In a school of the prophets class, Buerger writes that it was taught that Elohim was Adam’s grandfather, followed by Jehova, Adam’s father, and our God, Adam. Christ, as mentioned, was classified a spirit son of God Adam.

Of course, LDS doctrine today teaches that Jesus Christ is Jehova and that Adam was created out of the dust, as was Eve. Adam-God ran into trouble immediately; members could not find it in the scriptures. Nevertheless, Apostle Willard Richards had a succinct reply to doubters. He wrote, “If, as Elder Caffall remarked, there are those who are waiting at the door of the church for this objection to be removed, tell such, the prophet and Apostle Brigham has declared it, and that is the world of the Lord.”

In an 1854 general conference speech, Young went further: “I tell you more, Adam is the father of our spirits. He live upon the earth; he did abide his creation and did honor to his calling and preisthood (sic) and obeyed his master or Lord, and probably many of his wives did (the same) and they lived, and died upon an earth, and (then) were resurrected again to immortality and eternal life …”

However, one apostle, Orson Pratt, did not buy this new doctrine. He pointed to scriptures, including to what is Section 29, verse 42 in the Doctrine and Covenants and also Moses 4:28 and Moses 5:4-9. In defense, Young claimed that Joseph Smith had taught the Adam-God doctrine. Buerger’s research points to anecdotal evidence from third parties that Smith believed Adam was far more than his peers on Earth (a belief shared today by the current LDS Church) but past sermons of Smith’s also clearly show the first LDS prophet regarded Adam as an inferior to Jesus Christ, which puts him at odds with Young’s beliefs.

Other scriptural problems with the Adam-God doctrine include references to Adam’s death (Moses: 6:12 and Doctrine and Covenants 107:53) Also, Buerger cites Alma 11:45 in the Book of Mormon, where Amulek teaches that a resurrected body can die no more. How, Pratt reasonably wondered, can Adam have a resurrected celestial body and later die?

There were other contradictions to the Adam-God doctrine in theological books penned by apostles Parley P. Pratt and future prophet, John Taylor. Eventually, Young began to slowly abandon efforts to push the controversial doctrine, although he defended it often, sometimes with caustic remarks that skeptics were “yet to grovel in darkness.”

There is one recorded deviation by Young from Adam-God; as Buerger recounts, in an 1861 address to a non-Mormon audience, Young refers to Adam and Christ being created by a Supreme Being. However, this may be an example of the prophet speaking more simply to people — gentiles — he felt too naive to understand the doctrine. According to Brueger’s research, Young continued to teach the Adam-God doctrine, but mainly in more exclusive settings, such as teachings to general authorities.

In 1870, Young, quoted in the Deseret News, again said that God had revealed Adam’s celestial status to him. However, the doctrine’s steam slowly ebbed away. Eventually, Charles W. Penrose, editor of The Deseret News, signaled the church’s rejection of claims that Adam is our God. At first, Penrose said that Young’s personal views were not church doctrine; however, within a few years a church article stated that the debate over Young’s views were of no real value. Eventually, that changed to a view — held today — that Young had been misinterpreted.

The misinterpretation claim, as evidenced, does not survive historical scrutiny. It’s a shame that more information is unavailable on the fierce debate between Young, Pratt and others over the Adam-God doctrine, which comprised one of the most interesting eras in LDS Church history. The decades long controversy is an example of the progressive, brainstorming, exciting nature of the 19th century LDS church, where ideas — polygamy, new scriptures, Christ visiting America, celestial godhood, temples, priesthood revival, prophets, etc. roiled the theological world. It’s evidence of a uniquely American religion that still appeals to inquisitive minds.

-- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardBlogs.

Mormon Reformation included the highs, and lows, of religious fervor

The most interesting bits of news I garnered from one conference long ago was not news of a temple in Provo or disapproval at calling ourselves “Mormons.” It was the now-late Apostle Boyd K. Packer assuring young members of the LDS church that the second coming of Jesus Christ is a long time coming. 

That’s a big shift from the early years of 19^th century Mormonism, where blessings that promised recipients that they would witness the second coming of Jesus Christ were not uncommon.  The church Joseph Smith initiated was pure millennialist.  I recall my father telling me that I would likely see Christ’s return and – remembering that fondly – I’ve mentioned the same to my children.

One bit of history that underscored the Christ’s-return-is-near doctrine of the 19^th century LDS church was the Mormon reformation of the middle 1850s in Utah.  What began as an effort to re-energize the spirituality of Utah saints via “home missions” to members degenerated into harsh denunciations of local church leaders, blood atonement speeches, and accusations of adultery, fanaticism from guilt-obsessed members, and finally, a counter-productive surge of interest in polygamy.  It took the untimely death of a fire-breathing apostle to allow future church leader Wilford Woodruff to cool the Mormon Reformation down.

As Thomas G. Alexander recounts in the Summer 1992 Dialogue article, “Wilford Woodruff and the Mormon Reformation of 1855-57,” by 1855 the LDS prophet Brigham Young and other church leaders worried that “many Church members and leaders had fallen spiritually asleep, becoming more enamored of materialism and other trappings of Babylon than building the kingdom.” Besides Young, apostles Heber C. Kimball and Jedediah Grant preached that recent crop failures were punishment from God directed at the Saints. In the 1855 October general conference, Young proposed home missions – designed to bring members back to reactivity – rather than prostlyting to Utah non-members. The effort, Alexander explains, also broke with the church tradition of local congregations enjoying autonomy in many decisions. Instead, apostles were sent to direct the home missions effort.

By March 1856, Young realized that the home missions efforts had failed. At that point, Young, with the enthusiastic support of Kimball and Grant, decided to go “fire and brimstone” on Utah members.

Efforts to bring the Saints back to repentance evolved into fierce denunciation of church members as “working wickedness” by church leaders as they fanned out through the Utah territory.  Young preached in September 1856 espousing the now-discredited doctrine of blood atonement, which denied Christ’s atonement for certain sins. Other apostles, particularly Grant, preached the same during the reformation. As Alexander relates, it’s assumed that the murder of the Parrish family and some friends in Springville, Utah, in 1857 was in part due to local members’ diehard belief in the blood atonement doctrine that had been stressed. No one was ever punished for murdering the victims, who had apostatized and were seeking to leave Springville.

As is the case with many fundamentalist-type purges, the arts also suffered. Apostles Grant and Kimball dissolved the Polysophical Society, an arts and humanities appreciation group that met at the home of future church president Lorenzo Snow. In fact, apostles Woodruff, Amasa Lyman, and Parley P. Pratt, as well as poet and lyricist Eliza Snow were members. However, according to Alexander, Grant described the society as “a stink in my nostrils” and “filled with an adulterous spirit,” writes Alexander. The Polysophical Society was no more.

Church leaders during the Mormon Reformation accused members and lesser leaders of adultery and demanded their repentance. Again, Grant was a particularly enthusiastic accuser. However, even Woodruff, a far more milder man, joined in these attacks. The most prominent charge of adultery was leveled at several presidents of the First Council of the Seventy on Oct. 7, 1856, in the old Salt Lake Tabernacle. After a rancorous meeting, the presidents were urged by Woodruff to “repent”. Later, a prominent bishop, Abraham Hoagland, came under condemnation for his efforts to assist and serve non-members. Woodruff told Hoagland, writes Alexander, that “sending priesthood holders to them ‘was like casting pearls before swine.’” Although Hoagland defended himself for a while, he soon repented.

The unexpected death of Grant on Dec. 1, 1856 was the beginning of the end of the extreme stage of the Mormon reformation. Woodruff, who assumed greater responsibility from Young, moved the reformation into a third phase, which stressed love and forgiveness, writes Alexander. The emphasis turned to pleas for personal improvement, rather than severe denunciations and unfounded charges of adultery. Members were urged to better themselves before preaching to other members. A series of rebaptisms that indicted renewed covenants occurred.

Nevertheless, as Alexander writes, the effects of the fundamentalist, accusatory phase of the reformation took a while to ease. One effect was an increase in members wanting to enter polygamy. This was not necessarily a positive for church leaders, who were aware that increases in polygamy tended to up the divorce rate. Indeed, as Alexander accounts, “…the 65 percent increase in the new plural marriages during the Reformation led to a subsequent escalation in the divorce rate…” However, even Woodruff was caught up in the plural marriage rage. He married a plural wife during the reformation and even offered his 14-year-old daughter to Young, who prudently refused Woodruff’s offer. Alexander also writes of Young’s denying “Old Father Allred” permission to marry three girls, ages 12 and 13.”

The reformation probably did prepare the saints to unite against outside adversaries. By the mid-1850’s, it was clear that the federal government would soon be a part of Utah life, and for 35-plus years the LDS Church would face the threat the termination at the hands of the feds. Gentiles, and by extension the feds, were a target to call wicked.

Also, as Alexander writes, the church was successful, with the final emphasis on renewed love and charity, to bring members back to executive authority.

doug1963@gmail.com

Posts are authored by Doug Gibson. Cartoon is by Cal Grondahl. This post and cartoon was originally published on the now-defunct StandardBlogs website from The Standard-Examiner website, which this post is credited to.