Secular appeal helped Utah to be a big hit at 1893 Chicago Congress

 

In contrast to the Mormon Church’s bitter rejection at the 1893 Chicago Parliament of Religions, the territory of Utah was warmly received at the Congress of States and Territories, recounts historian Konden R. Smith in his Journal of Mormon History essay, The Dawning of a New Era: Mormonism and the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893. (Both events were part of the Chicago World’s Fair). As Smith writes, “In contrast to Mormonism’s rejection from the Great all, Utah Territory … was granted the coveted ‘Lot 38’ in the Congress …” Smith adds that Utah was “thrilled.”

“Lot 38” was one of the largest and situated in the middle of the hall. The reason for Utah’s success was simple: Mormons and non-Mormons in the territory — united in a desire to become a state — stayed away from the religious aspects of Utah, and emphasized its secular strengths. As Smith writes, “Its (Utah’s exhibit) central objective was to make a good impression on visitors, creating an image of Utah characterized by its great potential as a valuable future state with exemplary citizens.” 

The successful exhibit focused on “agriculture, mines, manufacturing, fine arts, ethnology and archaeology, education, women’s work, and a bureau of information” from spectators. Ogden Catholic and mineralogist, Dominick Maguire, educated fair attendees on Utah’s minerals. 

The territory promoted its granting of the vote to women as proof of its feminist appeal. Utah’s then-Gov. Caleb W. West, who was not Mormon, dismissed talk of a theological rule in Utah, saying, “In times past there have been struggles and differences, and I mention these only to say that they exist no more. They have been buried and now we bespeak for Utah simply justice,” recounts Smith.

Most notably, the LDS Prophet Wilford W. Woodruff spoke on Utah Day in Chicago, but he spoke not as a religious leader, but as oldest living pioneer, writes Smith. The Congress certainly went a long way toward achieving Utah statehood in three years, and the effort paid off in highly favorable press coverage. The New York Times, for example, dismissing any threats from Mormonism as remants of the now-ended Brigham Young era. 

The Times also derided opponents of Utah statehood as “non-Mormon ministers, who were spouting fears of now-dead policies such as “polygamy,” recounts Smith. Of course, polygamy was not quite gone. It’s amazing that two separate battles were waged by the church; one by itself, the losing effort to include the LDS faith at the Chicago fair; and the other, very successful campaign, with non-Mormons, to promote Utah territory.

As mentioned in the previous post, the Chicago World’s Fair was promoted as the end of the frontier times. In many ways, that is an apt description for the evolution of the Mormon faith. Its determination to be included in national events, its determination to be a state, were in sharp contrast to the church’s anti-government, distrust of external authority it had promoted only a generation or two earlier. 

The current Mormon Church hierarchy is often described — sometimes with admiration, other times less admirably — as having strong public relations skills. Its success at the Congress of States and Territories is proof that today’s promotional skills were inherited from leaders more than 100 years ago. 

The ecuminity between Utah’s Mormons and “gentiles,” Smith explains, was a realization that an end to popular fears and prejudices against the Mormons would benefit all Utah Territory residents.?As Smith also notes, the relatively new Mormon Tabernacle Choir was a big hit in Chicago. The 400-plus members of the Choir performed in Chicago on Sept. 8, 1893, to lots of acclaim, including a favorable review in The Chicago Daily Herald.

It is notable that after the Chicago events were over, Mormon leaders, including George Q. Cannon and Lorenzo Snow, Francis M. Lyman, and Heber J. Grant, at LDS General Conference in October, ignored the repudiation of the church itself and focused on the positive results of Utah’s exposure at the Congress.

As Smith notes, it was a moment of realization for late 19th century Mormons, “that, if they hoped to accomplish their goals as a people — they could not do so when ‘all hell” raged against them. Rather, Mormons by finding acceptance as American citizens who believed in progress and social reform, sought a position of equality rather than marginalization and oppression.”

In short, the secular triumphed over the theological.

-- Doug Gibson

Originally published in 2011 at StandardBlogs.

Utah’s decision to give women the vote was later rescinded by the feds

 

Originally published in 2013 at StandardBlogs.

In the 19th century, Utah’s polygamy was often described as one of the twin barbarisms of society, slavery being the other. As historian Thomas G. Alexander writes in the Winter 1970 issue of the Utah Historical Quarterly, “Nineteenth century Utah appeared to non-Mormons or Gentiles, as they were called in the Mormon territory, to be a retrograde and barbarian place only slightly more advanced than the Moslem lands of the Near East, with which it was often compared.”

However, Utah’s leaders at that time were probably more progressive than many people suspect today. As Alexander notes in the JMH article “An Experiment in Progressive Legislation: The Granting of Woman Suffrage in Utah in 1870,” Mormon political leaders in Utah were more progressive than perhaps many have realized. In the Feb. 10, 1869 edition of the Deseret News Weekly, editor George Q. Cannon, also a counselor to LDS President Brigham Young, harshly criticized the capitalist structure that reduced the standard of living for most workers. From Alexander’s article:

“In an editorial he (Cannon) lamented the plight of the American workingman and the problems caused by the rapid centralization of wealth, (writing) ‘in the hands of the very few in this county {which} is unparalleled, and the unprincipled use of the power thus acquired, as witnessed during the recent Wall Street gambling operations {which} cannot but cause wide spread distress.

‘{This shows that} here as elsewhere, when power and wealth are acquired and exercised by the few who are not guided by principle, they are not used pro bono publico, but are made to answer private interests and to subserve selfish ends.’”

Polygamous Utah was presented to eastern audiences through the publication of scandalous “exposes,” hyperbolic penny novels, and smarmy travel accounts by authors who sought to mock the residents of Utah. The truth was far more complex. The LDS religion’s rationale for polygamy, outside of its doctrinal explanation, as Alexander writes, “was seen as a method of reforming society and eradicating social evils by contemporary Mormons. Church leaders saw this reform as a way of freeing women from slavery to the lusts of men and making them honored wives and mothers with homes of their own and social position.”

With this egalitarian theory of the sexes, it’s not surprising that Utah was one of the first states to grant women voting privileges. As Alexander notes, editor Cannon supported women’s suffrage in the Deseret News, arguing that women would do more to promote “legislation of such character as would tend more to diminish prostitution and the various social evils which overwhelm society that anything hitherto devised under universal male suffrage.”

In short, Cannon, and by extension the Mormon leadership, were arguing that a society which allowed both sexes to vote would be a better society. And universal suffrage occurred in Utah 143 years ago. It was the second state, behind Wyoming, to allow the vote in the still-young era of the suffrage movement. On Feb. 12, 1870, acting Gov. S. A. Mann, after receiving the suffrage bill from Speaker of the Utah House, and LDS apostle, Orson Pratt, signed the bill.

Mann signed it with reservations, and Utah Gov. J. Wilson Shafer, who was out of state at the time, said he would have vetoed the bill. The coolness with which these non-Mormon government officials received the suffrage bill underscores the unpopularity and suspicion that Utah was subject to. Nevertheless, on Feb. 14, 1870, women in Utah voted in a Salt Lake City municipal election. As Alexander notes, despite being to second to Wyoming in passing a suffrage bill, due to the timing, Utah women voted before Wyoming women.

There were many prominent women in Utah at the time whose influence extended beyond Utah or the Mormon Church. Emmeline B. Wells, as well as Sarah M. Kimball, were both active in national women’s rights organizations and held positions in the church’s Relief Society. In fact, as Alexander notes, after suffrage, “Relief Society meetings became classes in government, mock trials, and symposia on parliamentary law.” Also, women served on school boards in Utah, as well as a coroner’s jury, and Miss Georgia Snow, a niece to Mormon Judge Zerubbabel Snow, was admitted to the Utah bar, notes Alexander.

The fact is Utah women did not use suffrage as a tool to echo their husband’s or father’s opinions on an issue. By all appearances, they used the privilege of voting in an effective and patriotic manner. Nevertheless, in what was certainly an ironic move by the federal government, Utah women lost suffrage rights due to the Edmunds Tucker Act of 1887. The law disenfranchised all polygamous men and women. Yet, as Alexander notes, a provision to the law took voting rights away from all women in Utah Territory.

A key reason that Utah’s suffrage rights ended after 17 years was because it became clear that granting Utah women voting rights would not bring about an end to polygamy, or elect non-Mormons to office in the state. As Alexander notes, this came as a surprise to outsiders, who shared the near universal disgust of Mormons and the Utah hierarchy of the period. Those who made federal laws, and others with little knowledge of Mormonism, simply did not understand women such as Emmeline B. Wells or Eliza R. Snow, or Sarah M. Kimball, who saw no conflict between their belief in the LDS religion, polygamy and their efforts to better the lives of women.

Alexander dismisses those who believe Mormon men in Utah supported women’s suffrage as a way to consolidate its power in Utah. As he notes, there was a progressive sentiment among Mormon intellectuals in the latter half of the 19th century. In fact, based on the editorials of that era in the Deseret News, it can be argued that the church was far more liberal in that era than it is today. As Alexander writes, “Cannon’s editorials … are progressive and optimistic in tone. They speak of the perfectability of man, the need for equality in the community and the high place of women in Mormon society.”

In fact, several years later after universal suffrage in Utah was snuffed out by the feds, the people of Utah supported it via a huge majority in the 1895 state Constitution.

-- Doug Gibson

State violence is more prevalent than religious violence

 

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In the Summer 2012 issue of The Journal of Mormon History, historian Patrick Q. Mason takes issue with this statement from Charles Kimball, in his widely read book, “When Religion Becomes Evil”: “It is somewhat trite, but nevertheless sadly true, to say that more wars have been waged, more people killed, and these days more evil perpetrated in the name of religion than by any other institutional force in human history.” Mason’s take on that view, shared by many of this era’s “New Atheists,” is that “Kimball’s assertion is, to use his own word, more trite than true.“

There is, of course, religious violence. As Mason notes, Sept. 11 is both the anniversary of the Twin Towers/Pentagon attacks and the Mountain Meadows Massacre, both committed by religious zealots. But, comparing state violence to religious violence leads Mason to conclude that Kimball’s quote should read “… more evil perpetuated in the name of (the state) than by any other institutional force in human history.”

Mason is the author of one of the best LDS-themed history books, “The Mormon Menace: Violence and Anti-Mormonism in the Postbellum South,” New York: Oxford University Press. In his short JMH essay, he cites research from political scientist R.J. Rummell, who counts the number of people killed in the 20th century by state-sponsored violence, which Russell calls “democide.” Rummell’s total: 262 million victims, or 297 million if one includes casualties of wars. The total encompass genocide, politicide and mass murder. Considering examples of genocide — the Ukraine famine, the Cultural Revolution in China, the Holocaust and the Killing Fields of Cambodia, the foolishness of assigning religion as the chief cause of evil is evident.

A source for the rise of “democide,” notes Mason, is the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, ostensibly designed to put an end to religious wars. Mason writes, “The treaty which concluded the Thirty Years War created a stable international system by ‘establishing the basic unit and symbol of modern international relations: the sovereign state.’ … Catholics and Protestants could agree that religion now constituted an invalid cause for international conflict.”

As Mason drily notes, Westphalia did not end war and violence, but it did create a new rationale for acceptable conflict. He writes, “In sum, Westphalia created our modern system of nation-states, defined not only by territorial sovereignty but also by their ability to corner the awful power of mass violence within their borders.”

The main purpose of this portion of Mason’s essay is to disprove the pop cultural idea that religion is primarily a source of evil, an idea espoused by the late Christopher Hitchens as well as popular New Atheists such as Richard Dawkins and even Bill Maher. Certainly, not every use of war or violence by a state is wrong. Most of us would regard the allied forces in both world wars of the 20th century as honorable causes. Others may disagree. As the current wars on terror go on, support of our objectives there have dropped considerably.

Quoting William Cavanaugh, the author of “The Myth of Religious Violence,” Mason shares an interesting empirical test to absolutism. Cavanaugh writes, “Now, let us ask the following two questions: What percentage of Americans who identify themselves as Christians would be willing to kill for their Christian faith? What percentage would be willing to kill for their country? … It seems clear that, at least among American Christians, the nation-state — Hobbes’s mortal god — is subject to far more absolutist fervor than religion. For most Americans Christians, even public evangelization is considered to be in poor taste, and yet most would take for granted the necessity of being willing to kill for their country, should circumstances dictate.“

We often like to describe our modern times as more peaceful and progressive than long ago, when religious conflicts often were the primary cause of death and misery. Mason’s arguments present an opportunity to ponder the idea that equitable, and perhaps even more, death and misery is still a part of our culture. It’s just linked to a cause more easy for most to link violence with than religion.

-- Doug Gibson

(Originally published in 2012 at StandardBlogs)

Major 19th century legal tussle over Mormon polygamy occurred in England

 

Originally published at StandardBlogs

Most of us are aware of the many challenges, legally and legislatively, to the Mormon practice of polygamy in the U.S. during the 19th century. Fewer people are aware that polygamy was addressed by an English court in 1866. In the winter 1982 edition of Brigham Young University Studies, historian Kenneth Cannon II, in “A Strange Encounter: The English Courts and Mormon Polygamy,” provides an interesting overview of Hyde v. Hyde and Woodmansee, a divorce case which led to a precedent that survived in England for more than a century.

The plaintiff, John Hyde Jr., is a fascinating person. Although barely an historical footnote today in Mormon history, Hyde was an 1848 British convert to Mormonism, — age 15 — who served a mission to France three years later, In 1853 he traveled to Utah, was rebaptized (a not uncommon occurrence,) “and married Lavinia Hawkins, to whom he had been betrothed while they both lived in England,” writes Cannon.

Not much later, Hyde received his Mormon endowments. Frankly, over the next few years, little is known about Hyde’s life. According to Lynn Watkins Jorgensen, who wrote “John Hyde Jr., Mormon Renegade,” for the Journal of Mormon History, Volume 17, Hyde and his wife, Lavinia, had one child. The family suffered financially, with Hyde earning little sums teaching school and dabbling in merchandising. According to Cannon, Hyde contacted LDS Apostle Orson Pratt, informing him he had lost his faith. Perhaps as a remedy for his doubts, Hyde was called on an 1856 mission to the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii). Surprisingly, Cannon notes, Hyde accepted.

It seems, though, that the mission acceptance was not sincere. Once Hyde arrived in Hawaii, he established himself as an active opponent to Mormonism, preaching against the Mormon missionary efforts. He shortly returned to the U.S. and continued proselyting against Mormonism. It would be fascinating to learn the catalyst for his change of heart with Mormonism. By all accounts, he was a far better opponent of Mormonism than he had ever been as an LDS missionary. In 1857, Hyde wrote and published “Mormonism: Its Leaders and Designs.” The book, which can be read online today, is a particularly harsh attack on the church. It’s best known as being the earliest book to reveal the secret — sacred to Mormons — LDS endowment ceremony. Hyde also wrote articles against Mormonism for newspapers, including the New York Herald. His published suggestions on dealing with the Mormons included establishing martial law in Utah, invading Utah, putting a bounty on the head of Brigham Young and deporting polygamists. Hyde described Mormons as “thieves, villains and murderers,” according to Watkins Jorgensen.

Even before his book was published, Hyde was excommunicated by the LDS Church. Mormon Apostle Heber C. Kimball also publicly divorced Hyde from his wife, Lavinia, who had remained faithful to the church. It was not unusual for LDS leaders to “divorce” married couples from the pulpit or by declaration. As Cannon notes, in 1899 the Utah Supreme Court would rule these “divorce decrees” as invalid.

After Hyde failed to convince his wife to leave Mormonism and join him in England, he settled in England, working as a newspaper editor, and a minister of Swedenborgian beliefs, a Christian sect that followed the teachings of Emanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), a Swedish scientist, philosopher and theologian who claimed to have witnessed many near-death experiences. According to Watkins Jorgensen’s article, Hyde also wrote an unpublished novel, heavily biographical, that claimed to be an expose of a family, in which lovely young women who joined the LDS Church and traveled to Utah were forced into polygamous marriage with Brigham Young, John Taylor and Heber C. Kimball.

In 1866, Hyde made a decision to sue — in British court — his former wife, now remarried in Utah and named Lavinia Woodmansee, for divorce, charging her with adultery. Why Hyde chose to seek a divorce is still puzzling. The journalist in me thinks Hyde, who had a record of vociferously tub-thumping anti-Mormonism, was seeking the publicity that would accompany such a high-profile lawsuit. Cannon offers the possibility that Hyde reasonably surmised that his divorce from Lavinia was not binding. Watkins Jorgensen speculates that he may have remained hurt from his failure to convince his former wife to leave Mormonism. In any event, Hyde wanted, and expected I’m sure, a formal dissolution of his marriage. He would be surprised at the eventual outcome.

As Cannon relates, during the divorce trial, Hyde told the judge, Sir James O. Wilde, of his life with Mormonism, his changing opinions, and related the history of his marriage, which he testified had been monogamous. A witness for Hyde, former Mormon Frederick Piercy, once married to his ex-wife’s sister, supported Hyde’s claim that he had never engaged in polygamy.

(I digress here to provide an example — courtesy of Cannon’s article — of the intense London press coverage of Hyde v. Hyde and Woodmansee. “On 22 March of that year The [London] Times related: ‘It is a strange fact that no case should have arisen on the validity of Mormon marriages before that of ‘Hyde v. Hyde,” which came before the Divorce Court in January last. So many young women have been tempted or entrapped into abandoning English homes for the half or third part of a husband at the Salt Lake City, and have since found reason to rue their infatuation that we can only explain the entire absence of precedents on the subject by supposing that few are happy enough to retrace their steps across the wastes that divide the Mormon paradise from Christendom.”)

It’s not surprising, nor unreasonable, for 19th century courts or newspapers, or other organizations to view polygamy as criminal sexual immorality, rather than accede to the LDS doctrinal belief of earthly marriages and children leading to greater heavenly glory after death. Mormon doctrine, while widely available then on friendly presses, were not often read by anyone other than the faithful. The resolution of Hyde’s case, though, was convoluted and ultimately, unsatisfactory to Hyde. Judge Wilde was as disgusted by polygamy as anyone else, so much so that he refused to acknowledge any marriage in Utah as being valid, despite Hyde’s barrister’s careful arguments that any monogamist marriage, in Utah or elsewhere, should be legal in England. Judge Wilde disagreed. As Cannon writes, “Wilde decided that the central question of the case was not whether Hyde was in fact a polygamist; rather, it was whether polygamy was recognized in Utah where the marriage had taken place.” As a result, Judge Wilde considered Hyde’s marriage as “potentially polygamous.” Because Hyde’s marriage clashed with Christian values, Judge Wilde ruled that it was not recognized in England and therefore was not eligible for a divorce ruling.

The decision, Cannon noted, hampered any couple married in a polygamous nation for scores of years. It left Hyde in an unenviable situation, “denied matrimonial relief by the English court,” writes Cannon. Although England considered his marriage not worthy of a divorce decree, Judge Wilde had made it clear that his decision did not “decide upon the rights of succession or legitimacy which it might be proper to accord to the issue of polygamous unions, nor upon the rights or obligations in relation to third persons which people living under the sanction of such unions may have created for themselves.”

As Cannon sums up the case, “Hyde was left in a kind of marital limbo. The marriage could not be dissolved in England and had probably not been legally dissolved in Utah. … He was married technically yet could not get a divorce in England despite his wife’s second marriage.”

Hyde, lived only seven years after his attempt at divorce, dying in 1876 at age 43. According to Watkins Jorgensen, he lived a respectable life as a Swedenborgian minister in England, writing “several books and pamphlets” on the subject. Lavinia Hawkins Hyde Woodmansee died on April 28, 1910.

--- Doug Gibson

Baptisms for health were once more common than baptisms for the dead

 

Most of us know about the ubiquity of the LDS Church performing baptisms for the dead in church temples. In many locations there have been baptisms outside temples, either converts or children when they reach eight years. However, in the first half of the LDS Church’s existence, baptisms for health were a common procedure, both in LDS temples and outside. It’s a bit of Mormon history that seems to have been tossed aside.

In Volume 34 (2008) of The Journal of Mormon History, academics Jonathan A. Stapley and Kristine Wright, authors of “They Shall Be Made Whole:” A History of Baptism For Health,” dove into the practice in great detail. They noted its origins, scriptural support, the eager support of church leaders and members, certain rules associated with it, including anointing and prayers afterward, and its eventual drop in popularity and ultimate banning in 1922. The fascinating history occurred over 80-plus years.

As the authors note, baptisms for health were not unique to Mormons. Early Christian advocates noted scriptural evidence, including “The story of Elisha instructing Naaman to ‘wash in the Jordan seven times’ and the miraculous New Testament waters of Bethesda …” However, the rise of Protestantism in the early 19th century U.S. had generally discouraged baptism for healings. However, the Mormons, with their belief in a restoration of the Gospel and the miracles and practices of its earliest era restored, baptisms for health fit in quite well for the early saints. As Stapley and Wright note, “Early Mormons viewed healing, along with glossolalia and prophecy, as important evidence of the Restoration’s validity.”

What likely propelled baptisms for health as a major LDS practice was a statement, published in the periodical “Times and Seasons 2,” by Brigham Young, “An Epistle of the 12,” Nauvoo, October 12, 1841. In that epistle, Young clearly tagged baptismal fonts in the the temple as places “that when the sick are put therein they shall be made whole.” As the JMH authors note, “This vision of healing rituals being performed by the ancients highlights the early Mormon particularity of connecting themselves with great figures, places and activities of the Bible.”

With baptism for health being preached from the LDS pulpits, its popularity exploded. And  baptisms for health eventually were sanctioned outside temples as well. (A reason for this was the wooden font in Nauvoo bred diseases.) Stapley and Wright note that it was a common practice to carry ill persons to the river in Nauvoo to be baptized. Emma Smith, when she was very ill, reportedly was baptized for her health. Certain rules for baptisms for health were established. Following a biblical precedent, the authors write that an ill person being baptized for health needed to be baptized seven times. Many small children were baptized for health. One baptism for health apparently involved a three-month-old infant. Other seven-time baptisms occurred over the course of several days, rather than at one time.

As Stapley and Wright note, “when the Saints were expelled from Nauvoo, they carried their healing rituals with them,” including baptisms for health. Besides being practiced on the Mormon Trail to Utah Territory, baptisms for health occurred in the Pacific Islands and Great Britain, the authors write.

An interesting facet of early LDS baptisms for health, according to Stapley and Wright, is the use of baptisms for health as a tool to drive out evil spirits. There are examples in Journal of Discourses and “Millennial Stars.” Stapley and Wright write, “Several records attest to the use of baptism for health and anointing as a means of exorcism.”

In the Utah territory, baptisms for health became a periodic event for many LDS members, particularly women. With better quality fonts, the practice switched more to temples, as well as the Salt Lake City Endowment House. As the authors write, “Church members sought special healings in the temple fonts.” The practice often was a community event, done in conjunction with Fast Sunday. There were days set aside for baptisms for health at temples, add the authors.

In fact, the authors present data that shows baptisms for health to be the most common temple practice, outpacing endowments, sealings, ritual rebaptisms to re-affirm faith, etc. The authors include accounts of persons claiming to be healed as a result of the baptisms. That was the peak for baptisms for heath. In the 1890s, church leaders began formalizing temple procedures. One rule formulated “situated baptism for health … to be administered only according to the faith of participants.” The number of temple baptisms for health dropped considerably, more so after church leaders ended the once-common practice of rebaptisms for members. For most of the 19th century, rebaptism was a ritual for Utah temple dedications, but it was not for the 1896 Salt Lake City Temple dedication, the authors note.

As the new 20th century arrived, the LDS Church leadership would slowly but consistently move toward a more conservative leadership, particularly among younger apostles, such as Joseph Fielding Smith. As the authors note, a generation gap existed. Repeat baptisms, which were now regarded as making the ritual seem common, were discouraged. While baptism for health were not specifically discouraged like rebaptism, the edict affected its popularity. (The one temple where the practice remained popular well into the 1900s was in Logan, note the authors.)

However, after 1910, many church leaders (President Joseph F. Smith was a notable exception) began to see rituals of healing and other practices, such as drinking consecrated oil, as being tainted with kitsch. As Stapley and Wright note, “With improvements in modern medical science and Mormonism’s more general integration into the larger society, Church leaders begin to avoid ritualistic practices that, in turn, appeared increasingly magical.” Also, the younger church leaders were openly skeptical of “the historical validity of the practice,” the authors add. Supporters of baptism for health began to rely on tradition as a chief defense.

When Joseph F. Smith died in 1918, the new church leadership administration of Heber J. Grant continued to sanction the practice for several years, but placed new suggestions, such as encouraging members to have local elders come to their homes to do ordinances for health instead, a practice that remains common today. By 1921, the end for baptisms of health was foreshadowed by the church leadership’s announcement that healers would no longer be in LDS temples. The authors note that the church leadership’s disapproval of the growing popularity of charismatic religious preachers, many of whom claimed to be faith healers, adversely affected the fate of baptisms for health,

Finally, via a First Presidency announcement, baptisms for health were ended. The statement read in part: “We … remind you that baptism for health is no part of our temple work, and therefore to permit to become a practice would be an innovation detrimental to temple work, and a departure as well from the provision instituted of the Lord for the care and healing of the sick of his Church.”

That statement would have come as a big surprise to Brigham Young, given his and the rest of the LDS apostles’ hearty 1841 endorsement of the practice. However, baptism for health enjoyed a long run in the LDS Church, one that lasted more than four score years.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published in StandardBlogs

Mormons, Catholics both have to deal with dark side of their histories

 

There’s an interesting article in the Fall 2013 issue of The Journal of Mormon History. “Evil in the Family: Mormons and Catholics Struggling with the Dark Side of Their Histories,” by Father Daniel P. Dwyer, notes that both the Catholic and Mormon faiths claim their church as the one established by Jesus Christ. Yet, he adds, both faiths share atrocities committed by the most seemingly devout members of the respective faiths.

A lot of Mormons may take offense at their church being adversely compared to Catholicism’s long history of misdeeds. But compare these two accounts of atrocities, offered by Dwyer. Here is the first:

“Enrico and the rest of the band held a council and, after sunrise, attacked the Jews in the hall with arrows and lances. Breaking the bolts and the doors, they killed the Jews, about seven hundred in number, who in vain resisted the force and attack of so many thousands. They killed the women also, and with their swords pierced tender children of whatever age and sex. The Jews seeing that their Christian enemies were attacking them and their children, and they were sparing no age, likewise fell upon one another, brothers, children, wives and sisters, and thus they perished at each other’s hands. Horrible to say, mothers cut the throats of nursing children with knives and stabbed others, preferring them to perish thus by their own hands rather than to be killed by the weapons of the uncircumcised.”

Here’s the other example:

“I saw several bones of what must have been very small children. Dr. Brewer says from what he saw he thinks some of the infants were butchered. The mothers doubtless had these in their arms, and the same shot or blow may have deprived both of life.

“The scene of the massacre, even at this late day, was horrible to look upon. Women’s hair, in detached locks and masses, hung to (sic) the sage brushes and was strewn over the ground in many places. Parts of little children’s dresses and of female costume dangled from the shrubbery or lay scattered about; and among these, here and there, on every hand, for at least a mile in the direction of the road, by two miles east and west. there gleamed, bleached white by the weather, the skulls and other bones of those who had suffered. A glance into the wagon when all these had been collected revealed a sight which can never be forgotten.”

The former is an account of Catholic crusaders in 1096 killing Jews trapped in a hall, put there by a bishop for their “protection.” The latter is an 1859 account of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Two years earlier Mormon “crusaders” had massacred non-Mormon settlers traveling to California. The massacre occurred as the settlers were being led to “safety.”

These are acts of pure evil, encouraged by Satan, if one is a believer. How does one square these massacres with belief in a faith? Dwyer offers three options: “we can try to rationalize the evil and explain it away; we can abandon our respective faiths and deal with, or ignore evil, from the perspective of outsiders; or we can try to admit and understand the evil and look for ways our traditions can help us cope with the aftermath and prevent recurrences.”

The third option is often attempted — at least in part — on a singular basis. The LDS Church, for example, has expressed regret for the massacre, among other gestures. The Catholic Church has attempted apologies for much of its sordid history and the priest sexual abuse scandals of the past several decades. However, to fully attempt to live the third option requires consistency. Example: the first option — rationalize and explain away — more or less still defines the LDS Church’s reaction to its “Jim Crow” policies toward blacks in the church, which lasted until 1978.

And, as Dwyer notes, the third option, to be consistent, must apply to all members of a faith, even the most powerful. Compare these two declaration, both from the same era. The first, from Pope Pius IX, in 1864, the Syllabus of Errors (NOTE THAT THE FOLLOWING WAS URGED NOT TO BE BELIEVED BY CATHOLICS):

“Good hope at least is to be entertained of the eternal salvation of all those who are not at all in the true Church of Christ.”

“Protestantism is nothing more than another form of the same true Christian religion.”

“The church is not a true and perfect society.”

“The Roman pontiffs have, by their too arbitrary conduct, contributed to the division of the Church into Eastern and Western.”

“Catholics may approve of the system of educating youths unconnected with the Catholic faith and the power of the Church.”

“The Church ought to be separated from the State, and the State from the Church.”

“In the present day it is no longer expedient that the Catholic religion should be held as the only religion of the state.”

“The Roman Pontiff can, and ought to, reconcile himself, and come to terms with progress, liberalism and modern civilization.”

And, in early 1857, several months prior to the Mountain Meadows Massacre, LDS Church leaders Brigham Young shared this with the Saints in Salt Lake City, relates Dwyer:

“I have known a great many men who have left this church for whom there is no chance whatever for exaltation, but if their blood had been spilled, it would have been better for them. The wickedness and ignorance of the nations forbid this principle’s being in full force.

“This is loving your neighbor as ourselves; if he needs help, help him; and if he wants salvation and it is necessary to spill his blood on the earth in order that he may be saved, spill it. Any of you who understand the principles of eternity, if you have sinned a sin requiring the shedding of blood, except the sin unto death, would not be satisfied nor rest until your blood should be spilled, that you might gain that salvation you desire. That is the way to love mankind.”

Both statements, from Pius IX and Brigham Young, are repugnant, and remind of the theology of radical Islam today. While Young’s words are more violent, the state theology espoused by the late pope would have likely led to violence. Yet, I’m glad Dwyer chose these two examples, precisely because both Pius IX and Young are beloved, often-honored figures within their faiths. Nevertheless, they made statements that no sensible Catholic, or Mormon, would adhere to today.

As Dwyer notes, there are contexts to the above statements. Both faced challenges by hostile powers. Both wanted to consolidate power for what they felt was a good cause. When looking at these examples, it’s best to understand that doctrine and practices for both faiths, Catholic and Mormon, is dynamic, in fact more dynamic than many members or leaders might see or admit to. That’s a good thing. A failure for any religion to change many of its practices or beliefs would nearly always lead to, at least, social ostracism, or at worst, violence and tragedy.

Later in the JMH essay, Dwyer compares the doctrine of papal infallibility with the role of a Mormon prophet. What happens when a pope, or an LDS prophet, spouts something that isn’t true? One example is Young’s failed effort to institute the “Adam-God Doctrine.” Dwyer offers these explanations:

“... even some of our own people misunderstand the doctrine of papal infallibility. It does not mean that a pope is always correct — even when he teaches doctrine. His teaching is infallible only under severely limited conditions. … So if Pope Francis told me the sky was green, it would still be blue.” Later, Dwyer answers the confusion Mormons may feel over Young’s insistence that Adam was God by writing, “If he was wrong, how could he have been a prophet, seer and revelator? Or, as in Catholicism, is the exercise of of the prophetic ministry something that happens only in very defined situations?”

These are interesting topics, and Dwyer’s article explores even more similarities and conflicts between Catholicism and Mormonism. What’s most beneficial is the advice that both faiths acknowledge a sometimes adverse, and wicked, past and that practical dynamism, and human fallibility, will create leaders who make mistakes, even in a church that proclaims itself THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST.

As Dwyer notes, in Romans 3:23, it reads “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” The late Mormon scholar Eugene England extolled the strength of the church, its structure, its fellowship, and its role as a place to gain strength and learn to be a more godly individual; all of that occurs, of course, in the present and the future.

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs in 2013.

First John D. Lee trial waged in the court of public opinion

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In the Winter 2013 “Journal of Mormon History,” there’s an interesting article from Robert H. Briggs, a lawyer and historian from California. “A Seething Cauldron of Controversy: The First Trial of John D. Lee, 1875,” reminds us that lawyer’s spin and arguments designed more to convince the public than the jury box are not recent inventions; such practices were popular 138 years ago in cases argued in locations as obscure as Beaver, Utah.

Lee, an “adopted”child of the Mormon prophet Brigham Young, was the only person on trial for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, which occurred in 1857. The crime was horrific; women, children and families slaughtered by men who had promised the victims safety. Other than the practice of polygamy, it was the main source of national hatred and disgust for the latter 19th century Mormons of Utah.

Yet, as the first trial approached, the prosecution was well aware that a conviction of Lee was going to be impossible to obtain. The majority of the jurors would be Utah Mormons, and they would acquit Lee, who still enjoyed Young’s support and was consequently seen by most Utah Mormons as a symbol of the federal government’s persecution of their faith.

As Briggs relates in his article, “Knowing the power of the federal onslaught that was to descend upon Mormon Utah in the 1880s, it is surprising to consider just how weak, frustrated, and marginalized the Liberals (anti-Mormons) felt in the mid-1870s.” The only success so far for the anti-Mormons had been preventing Utah from becoming a state. In terms of amending the territory’s leadership, state capitol, state constitution, state boundaries, taking away Mormons’ property, and so on, most had been failures. As Briggs relates, some reasons were overzealous crusading officials, including a judge, who were recalled by federal officials, and a split between the Utah Liberals themselves over how to combat polygamy.

With that track record, it was no surprise that so much time had passed before a trial for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, or that the one scapegoat to be tried, Lee, was unlikely to be convicted. As Briggs notes, the one insider prosecution witness was former LDS Bishop Philip Klingensmith, once of Cedar City. While he had insider knowledge of the massacre, he had long been hounded out of the Mormon Church, and was considered a traitor by Utah Mormons.

Instead of winning a conviction being the prosecution’s chief objective, Briggs notes that the architects of the Lee prosecution, William C. Carey, U.S. Attorney in Utah Territory, and his assistant prosecutor, Robert N. Baskin, de-emphasized the usual focus of a trial — “the guilt or innocence of the accused” — for a broader initiative that focused on the actions of militia commands stretching throughout Utah. The initial target, opines Briggs, was George A. Smith, a counselor in the church’s First Presidency as well as an apostle. As Briggs notes, “If they could implicate Smith, it would be but a short step to implicate Brigham Young himself.”

History records that neither Smith nor Young ever paid a legal price for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, but it wasn’t for lack of effort by Carey and Baskin, two fervent “Liberal” anti-Mormons of that period. Both prosecutors were fully aware of the national interest in the Lee trial, and they argued their case with an eye toward the press coverage that accusations would garner. Baskin even had the good fortune to be lodging with Frederic Lockley, editor of the Mormon-hostile Salt Lake Tribune, who covered the trial.

As Briggs writes, “They (Carey and Baskin) foresaw the political capital they would gain if the evidence revealed the horrors of the massacre, even if the jury failed to convict Lee. The proceeding, as they conceived of it, would be a political show trial. The prosecutors’ specific strategy was to make the Lee trial into a referendum on the tyranny and corruption of the Mormon hierarchy and the fanaticism of its deluded followers.”

And the newspapers rewarded the prosecution for its effort. Here are some news articles accounts from the trial: “Mountain Meadows — The Sickening Story Coming Out … Hints as to the Real Criminal,” Decatur (Ill.) Daily Republican; “If those Mormon witnesses keep telling the truth about the Mountain Meadows Massacre, old Brigham Young may have occasion to wish he had died naturally, when he was sick last winter,” Steubenville (Ohio) Daily Herald; The Morning Oregonian, of Portland, Ore., had banner coverage of Klingensmith’s testimony. The trial gained media steam as it continued.

Baskin’s summary argument for the prosecution was a masterpiece of rhetoric. He ignored the shaky evidence that while Lee was certainly at the massacre, it was by no means proven he was the leader, and instead attacked every male member of the Mormon Church as lacking the manhood to stand up and do what was right. Baskin was arguing that Mormon men were not free agents and would do whatever their church leaders told them to do.

As Briggs recounts, “Later Baskin asked rhetorically why none of the militiamen involved in the massacre had prevented or even protested the killings. Answering his own question, Baskin argued that it was because ‘when they became a member of the (Mormon) Church … they laid down their manhood; they laid down their individuality.”

He was right, of course, but how could the eight Mormon men on the jury accept that rebuke? By voting to acquit, of course.

But an acquittal had been neutralized by the prosecution’s successful media strategy. The winner of John D. Lee’s first trial was the prosecution, with its attack on the Mormon hierarchy in which the massacre had occurred.

It can be argued that the first trial not only sealed Lee’s fate, it paved the way for the taming of the Mormon polygamous empire in Utah by the federal government. A year later, Lee was executed. Abandoned by Brigham Young, without the implied protection of Utah’s leaders, he was quickly convicted and condemned. Not long afterward, Brigham Young died. His successor, John Taylor, spent much of his tenure as Mormon prophet hiding from law enforcement. In little more than 15 years, the LDS Church, facing financial ruin, would make its first renunciation of polygamy with The Manifesto, signed by then-prophet Wilford W. Woodruff.

There were of course many other reasons for the Utah Mormon Church’s slow subjection to the federal government during the last half of the 19th century, but Briggs’ interesting account of the first Lee trial provides evidence that a significant media salvo on the Mormon leaders was accomplished in a Beaver courthouse during July and August of 1875. In the court of public opinion, the Mormons were the big losers.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

In 1845, William Smith, Mormon apostles waged war in the LDS press

 

Originally published in 2013 at StandardBlogs

There’s an interesting article in the summer 2013 issue of the “Journal of Mormon History.” Christine Elyse Blythe has contributed a long article on the tenure of William Smith as church patriarch. William is generally considered in LDS history as a kind of “bad boy” of the Smiths, a “legacy apostle” who survived in the church while elder brother Joseph Smith was alive but was eventually kicked out of the church after he died.

There’s a lot of history in the article, “William Smith’s Patriarchal Blessings and Contested Authority in the Post-Martyrdom Church,” but what caught my interest was an intramural newspaper feud over who was best to lead the church a year after Joseph Smith had been murdered. William Smith, despite already shaky relationships with Brigham Young and the Quorum of the 12 Apostles, was named Presiding Patriarch of the LDS Church. It was a lucrative gig for Smith. Besides the high authority of being the church patriarch, William earned a buck per patriarchal blessing, according to Blythe. That doesn’t sound like much, but after 300 blessings over six months, William had earned roughly what a full-time laborer of that era would earn over half a year.

(I digress here to tell readers that receiving a patriarchal blessing is a rite of passage for faithful Latter-day Saints. Those born into an active LDS family usually receive a blessing, from a local patriarch, at the age of 15 or 16. The blessings are considered revelation from God. Indeed, many blessings are described as part of blessings one received in the pre-existence prior to birth. The blessings also provide a relationship to the recipient of their place in the House of Israel.)

In Smith’s time, the presiding patriarch of the LDS Church was considered an elite leader, comparable in rank to an apostle or prophet. Hyrum Smith had preceded William Smith as patriarch. As Blythe recounts, a careful reading of many of William Smith’s patriarchal blessings include words from Smith that assigned him as the LDS leader with the highest authority. As Blythe writes, “… in a blessing given to William A. Beebe, the patriarch concluded: ‘by the highest authority in the church of God I seal thee up to eternal life ...’ This phrase, ‘highest authority in the church’ appeared six times in William’s patriarchal blessings in just over one month.”

Patriarchal blessings, while recorded, are considered personal, and — as Blythe notes — it’s possible the subtle hints in William Smith’s blessings did not get much notice. However, William Smith made his intentions public with an essay in the LDS Church newspaper “Times and Seasons.” In the essay, “Patriarchal,” Blythe notes that William Smith cast himself as “a living martyr,” worthy of continuing in the same high, prophetic place in the post-martyrdom church as his slain brothers, Joseph and Hyrum.

William Smith’s essay was boosted by a testimonial to his claims by W.W. Phelps, an assistant editor at “Times and Seasons.” Phelps, who eventually followed Brigham Young to Utah, wrote that William is “governed by the spirit of the living God.” As Blythe notes, that phrase suggested an autonomy for Smith as patriarch. That was not a trial balloon that the LDS church’s leadership wanted out there.

So, as Blythe notes, Apostle John Taylor penned a rebuttal in the very next issue in the “Times and Seasons.” What Taylor focused on was the debate over whether William Smith was the “patriarch over the church” or “patriarch to the church.” Taylor was direct and to the point in letting church members know the answer. He wrote: “We have been asked, ‘Does not patriarch over the whole church’ place Brother William Smith at the head of the whole church as president? Ans. No. Brother William is not patriarch over the whole church; but patriarch TO the church, and as such he was ordained. The expression ‘over the whole church,’ is a mistake made by W.W. Phelps.”

Taylor, who of course was speaking for Brigham Young and the rest of the Quorum, made it clear what pecking order William Smith had to follow to remain in the Mormon faith. Nevertheless, William Smith remained in the church a while longer. Blythe notes that he gave nine “second blessings” as patriarch, an indicator that the publicity in “Times and Seasons” had boosted his claim.

But it was a matter of time before William Smith and the LDS Church, under Young and the Apostles, would have a divorce. Blythe relates that later in 1845, William Smith trumpeted a claim from Lucy Mack Smith, his mother, that she had had a revelation, with God saying “Thy son William he shall have power over the Churches …” and “… The presidency of the Church belongs to William ...” Soon afterward, Lucy Mack Smith clarified the “revelation,” saying it was just for her family. Around that time, William Smith threatened to leave the Mormons and take all the Smiths with him, adds Blythe. Smith later retracted that threat as well. By August, as Blythe notes, William Smith was complaining that “There seems to be a severe influence working against me and the Smith family in this place.”

Smith left the Mormons, was excommunicated and, like many other Mormon leaders who didn’t go to Utah, hopscotched among different branches of Mormonism. He tried a position with the James J. Strang “Strangites,” and later started his own church for a while, and had an alliance with the Lyman Wight branch in Texas. All that ended and improbably, William Smith was rebaptized as a Mormon in 1860. That failed to last as well. Eventually, Smith became a member of the Reorganized LDS church. Although the uncle tried to persuade his nephew, church leader Joseph Smith III to make him an apostle or presiding patriarch, he was unsuccessful. William Smith died in 1893.

The very short intramural newspaper battle between Smith, a sort of populist threat to the church led by Young and the apostles, and the rebuttal by John Taylor, which more or less ended Smith’s effort to become a Mormon leader, is fascinating to me as a journalist. Try to imagine today’s prominent Latter-day Saints waging a public relations battle — against each other — in “The Mormon Times,” “Church News,” or “The Ensign.”

It would never happen, of course. But it did 168 years ago, and it must have made for eager reading by Latter-day Saints.

Another excellent source for William Smith’s short tenure as LDS church patriarch is the summer 1983 issue of “Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought.”

-- Doug Gibson

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.)