Book takes a look at all those spirit visits we Mormons receive

 

Review by Doug Gibson

If you are a longtime Mormon like me, you know a healthy amount of the stories out there. There's that missionary who was too confident in his priesthood power and actually summoned a demon. You know how that ended; he tempted evil, and was found with lots of broken bones.

Or there's the story of seeing a large, dark creature. He turns, and his eyes, they're the eyes of Cain! The Spirit whispers, "Stay away." You run.

But there's positive tales out there: It's World War II, and a weary soldier asks a stranger when this cursed war will end. The stranger gives a date. The war ends on that date. It must have been one of the Three Nephites!

I'm taking those yarns, which pop up everywhere, with lots of salt. We've all heard them. But all have a firmer provenance. 

I'm not skeptical of visits from the spirit world, good and bad. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a religion that preaches personal revelation. That includes the belief that we can sense, even see and commune -- rarely -- with spirits both dead and yet to be born. On a personal note, I have never had a vision or heard a voice, but I believe I have felt the unseen, spiritual presence/love/support from my deceased son, and my deceased parents. My mother believed she saw the profile of Jesus Christ in the Los Angeles Latter-day Saint temple. Over decades I've shared experiences --- mostly with LDS peers --- of what we felt, heard or saw. And, I even claim to have sensed and felt negative spirits during my life.

It doesn't make us odd -- it makes us Mormons. 

Erin Stiles is a professor at University of Nevada, Reno. She was raised in Cache County, located in northern Utah. She has authored a new, fascinating book, "The Devil Sat on My Bed -- Encounters with the Spirit World in Northern Utah," Oxford University Press, 2024.

Stiles is not a member of the LDS Church, but through her life experiences and research she has a strong understanding of Mormon culture. As she notes, spiritual encounters underscore a type of collective salvation, members of a familial lineage -- alive, dead or not yet born -- working in tandem to influence or prod family members through what Mormons call The Plan of Salvation.

Stiles recounts examples, gleaned through personal interviews and research through archives. One is a long-deceased mother who communicates to her daughter through voice and text messages. In one message, the deceased mother laments that she didn't spend more time with her daughter. Others include adults who talk about meeting spiritual children. Later a child is born who resembles the spirit. 

These good spirits often have names, or the living person senses they are a descendant, and later discovers that to be the case.

As noted, Mormons tend to see morality as a concept and righteousness as a verb. That helps understand why Mormons are receptive to spiritual encounters. Mormonism regards works as paired with faith in receiving a degree of salvation or higher. The spirit world is divided between a type of paradise and "spirit prison." The latter is not really a prison. It represents people who need to be taught Latter-day Saint principles and ordinances of the Gospel. Under Mormon theology, it makes sense to continue religious duties after death. I can't tell you how many times I have heard at LDS funerals where someone will remark that "Brother or Sister (so and so) are really busy teaching the Gospel" in the spirit world.

Temple work is important in the LDS faith because it's designed to provide the deceased a choice to follow what LDS faithful believe are covenants necessary toward a higher degree of salvation, called exaltation. As Stiles notes, it is always a choice of the person. It's not a decree. The idea of agency is important within the faith. 

For that reason, unsurprisingly, Stiles has gathered accounts of spiritual encounters within temples, interaction with spirits who have chosen to receive the post-mortal ordinances. I found fascinating accounts of people performing baptisms for the dead seeing spiritual people watching the baptisms. After every baptism, a spirit would leave, presumably satisfied with his or her baptism.

One of the accounts recall a child spirit left alone after the series of baptisms. This child, seen by one of those performing the ordinance, appeared very distraught. The officiator was asked to review the list of deceased slated for proxy baptism. It was discovered the man had missed one to be baptized. Once that occurred, the child spirit left.

I remember one of my late sisters telling me that she had conversed with the deceased spirit of one of our aunts, who died when I was very young. She eagerly conversed with my sibling, still a child. Frankly, I believe her. These are not carnival tricks to Latter-day Saints. Spiritual encounters occur, as the book notes, to guide those on earth, to protect them, and -- most in my opinion -- to comfort. Expressions of love extend beyond the grave.

As Stiles notes, adversarial spiritual encounters are generally nameless. They include demons on beds, bad ouija board experiences, encounters with Cain. There are many accounts of missionaries dealing with bad spirits. Although the term demon is often used in popular culture, most Mormons would regard these visitors as being rebellious spirits who aligned with the devil, Lucifer, in the pre-existence and were cast out to -- ironically earth. They were denied bodies. Mormon theology considers the number to be a third of all people created.

An example in the book involves unseen spirit women who were whispering to missionaries late at night. The sounds were so loud the missionaries faced accusations of having girls in their rooms. I'm not sure about this one. It may derive from sexual frustration. However, as a missionary myself, we swapped tales of dealing with the adversary.  Another involves rebellious spirits attempting to enter the Logan LDS temple. This is a well-traveled tale. The spirits are stopped, but in some accounts do manage to disrupt temple activities. *

In both cases, males in the Mormon faith used what is called Priesthood authority to cast out the renegade spirits. The patriarchal culture of Mormonism provides near-absolute authority to males in ecclesiastical matters. Stiles notes that in the early years of the LDS Church, women had much more power to "perform ordinances" before church leaders cracked down on that in the early 20th century. Candid interviews with current members provide evidence that the future may hold a loosening on overly patriarchal attitudes on female participation in Gospel ordinances.

"The Devil Sat On My Bed ..." contains fascinating information. It brings to an academic setting what's long been discussed between families, in pews, in Sunday school, firesides, campouts, sleepovers, family reunions, and so on. What happens in northern Utah really happens just about everywhere in Mormon culture. Hopefully this book, which can be a tough read at times due to its academic style, will lead to more books on spiritual encounters and how they relate to Mormon theology and culture.

* I have no disagreement with Stiles' stance that most adversarial spirits are unnamed. However, I have spoken to a handful of people who have a feeling these bad spirits they encounter are acquaintances, or friends from the pre-existence, but chose to follow Satan. Given Mormon culture, I think that idea is worthy of further study.

C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce, and the LDS Spirit World

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A couple of times a year, usually on a Sunday after church, I re-read C.S. Lewis’ marvelous post-mortal novella/fable “The Great Divorce.” It relates a journey of diminutive spirits (referred to as ghosts) to the outskirts of Heaven, where they are greeted by much larger, more powerful exalted spirits, eager to help them take a painful journey beyond the mountains to Heaven. The journey, and its accompanying pain, is a metaphor for repentance and shedding of sins.

Most of the “ghosts,” despite the mild persuasion of loved ones, friends and acquaintances who greet them, refuse the trip to Heaven. They prefer Hell because it allows them to retain their earthly passions and sins, obsessions, earthly pride, angers resentments, self-pity, manipulation, and narcissism. That is the foundation of what Lewis is teaching in his novella; that one must surrender the earth for Heaven.

As Lewis writes, “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ’Thy will be done,” and those to who God says in the end, ’Thy will be done.’“

”The Great Divorce“ can be called Dante-like. It’s a journey with many experiences, with a narrator and a teacher. Understand, I make no claim that C.S. Lewis saw any similarities between ”The Great Divorce“ and the Mormon concept of the post-mortal spirit world. In fact, Lewis — on more than one occasion — reminds readers that his story is a fantasy, and says, ”The last thing I wish is to arouse factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.“

Personally, I think Lewis had his tongue in his cheek with that remark, because of course ”The Great Divorce“ ”arouse(s) factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.“ And the concept of spirits retaining their weaknesses and more exalted spirits zealously attempting to teach them ”the right“ is a central tenant of Mormonism. But let me backtrack: From my earliest years in the LDS Church, I was taught that after we die, we either go to paradise or ”spirit prison.“ (For many childhood years, I envisioned ”spirit prison“ as a clean jail with bars, where orderly ”wicked“ spirits waited for good spirits to teach them the Gospel ...)

Instead, Mormon theology puts the spirits world as being on the earth. In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Alma taught that — like Lewis’ ghosts — what’s learned and appreciated on earth is carried to the spirit world. In the LDS post-mortal spirit world, there is no confirmation of any ”correct Gospel.“ Spirits congregate where they are most comfortable. The ”righteous“ spirits — like Lewis’ spirits — attend to spirits who need to learn the truth. I imagine much of the ”missionary work“ is without success. (As a lifelong Mormon, it’s impossible not to imagine these spirit ”missionaries“ as wearing dark suits and ties, or sisters in dresses, and carrying flip charts and Scriptures as they knock on doors in ”Spirit Prison.“)

In ”The Great Divorce,“ Lewis talks about many ghosts who are so obsessed with their earthly lives that they return to homes, places of work, etc., and ”haunt“ them. (Now, what I’m saying next is ”Doug doctrine“ and not LDS belief, but one reason I flinch at watching LDS football on Sunday is that I have this feeling a host of spirits — all obsessed with the Dallas Cowboys, etc., are also watching the game. If I turn the tube off and put on a CD of church music, they’ll take off! I also wonder about those kitschy reality ghost-hunting shows on TV. Are the malicious spirits having fun with us humans?)

(Yeah, I’m still being tongue in cheek now but what comes next is serious.) Lewis’s relating that the souls of purgatory/hell were handicapped by their earthly attachments parallels the LDS belief that missionary spirits are attempting to teach other spirits to shed those same attachments. A chief distinction, of course, is that Lewis considers his ”Hell and Heaven“ as the end result, while LDS theology sees the ”Spirit World“ as a far earlier part of our eternal existence. It is interesting, though, that ”The Great Divorce“ envisions active efforts to convert unbelievers after death; a concept that Mormonism can relate to. ”The Great Divide“ also places a person’s humility and true charity as more favorable than excessive religion and excessive charity, reminding the reader that these can become earthly obsessions which consume our other responsibilities.

As former Standard-Examiner cartoonist Cal Grondahl says, religion exists in one part to comfort us about our approaching death. C.S. Lewis, as a Christian, believed in life after death. To the righteous, his novella comforts, as the Mormon Spirit World comforts devout Mormons. I have no idea if Lewis regarded Mormons as Christians, but his novella — in which spirits find themselves more comfortable in dim, dreary, contentious surroundings and resist missionary efforts that offer a more exalted state — connects with LDS doctrine.

Also, it’s very interesting that in Lewis’ ”Hell,“ there are ghosts who have strayed so far away from the ”bus station“ that offers ghosts the opportunity to visit ”Heaven.“ As a result, they can’t go to Heaven’s outskirts anymore. This is similar to LDS doctrine, in which spirits in ”spirit prison“ are separated by those who are still teachable and those who are not. I recommend ”The Great Divorce“ to anyone, of course, but also to LDS readers who will find the unintentional similarities very interesting.

-- Doug Gibson

This column was previously published at StandardBlogs.

Early Mormon leader Pratt talked of spirit world, disdained ghost hunting

Originally published at StandardNET in 2010.

Today, as an LDS leader, Parley P. Pratt is mostly mentioned and taught as a subject of history, but not theology. We see his much-read, edited autobiography, as well as a little-read scholarly biography, on book shelves, and his name is listed as the author of several songs in the LDS hymn book.

Pratt was more than that, of course. In the 19th century his books on theology, available free on the web today, were required reading for serious church members. ( A book on his early writings, The Essential Parley P. Pratt, can be read here.)

There’s a convenient website to learn about Pratt. It’s at http://jared.pratt-family.org/ I peruse it often, eager to learn more about this amazing man, who lived a half a century and died a violent death, pursued by a cuckold whose wife he had married. (Brigham Young referred to Pratt’s activities as “whoring,” but there was no prurience in Pratt’s actions. His theology on earth saw no conflict in taking the unhappy wife, and Mormon convert, of a drunken spousal abuser as his own plural wife. His placid acceptance of his own violent death adds support to this assessment.)

Pratt’s writings on the post-life spirit world, while not often cited today, clearly laid a framework for how the spirit world is taught today in the LDS Church. It’s key to understand that to be “active” in the Mormon church requires service. And there’s no defined approved amount of service. Example: at our ward conference on Sunday, our stake president definitively told the congregation that more service is needed. Further explanation: as Pratt taught years ago, Mormonism believes that every person on earth needs to be taught the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As with many other Christian religions, Mormons are taught that every person who has lived on earth will accept Christ as his or her savior.

Almost 161 years ago, Pratt laid out the spirit world in a General Conference address on April 7, 1853, in Salt Lake City. Pratt described the spirits that left life as “organized intelligences,” created long before they entered and departed earth, a second estate to Mormons.

Pratt taught that the spirit, being material, contained the shape and characteristics of a mortal body. The spirit also retained what we had learned in the first estate (pre-existence) and the second estate (earth). These characteristics included knowledge, emotions, passions, beliefs, and vices.

In the discourse, he says: “Let a given quantity of this element, thus endowed, or capacitated, be organized in the size and form of man, let every organ be developed, formed, and endowed, precisely after the pattern or model of man’s outward or fleshly tabernacle, what would we call this individual organized portion of the spiritual element?

“We would call it a spiritual body; an individual intelligence; an agent endowed with life, with a degree of independence, or inherent will; with the powers of motion, of thought, and with the attributes of moral, intellectual, and sympathetic affections and emotions.

“We would conceive of it as possessing eyes to see, ears to hear, hands to handle, as in possession of the organ of taste, of smelling and of speech.

“Such beings are we, when we have laid off this outward tabernacle of flesh. We are in every way interested, in our relationships, kindred ties, sympathies, affections, and hopes as if we had continued to live, but had stepped aside, and were experiencing the loneliness of absence for a season. ....”

(Pratt also taught what Mormons are taught today, that after we die, the “veil,” which prevented a knowledge of our first estate — thereby allowing free agency — is lifted, and we recall our entire existence.)

But, getting back to the spirit world, Pratt describes it as having “many places” and “degrees.” Mormons like to use the terms “Paradise,” where more-righteous exist, and “spirit prison,’ where unrighteous spirits reside. Pratt describes it in deeper terms.

The more unrighteous a person is in the spirit world, the longer the sinner’s wait — in darkness and misery — before he or she receive education, and ultimately accepts the Gospel.

Here is how Pratt describes the lowest degrees of the spirit world: “I will suppose, in the spirit world, a grade of spirits of the lowest order, composed of murderers, robbers, thieves, adulterers, drunkards, and persons ignorant, uncultivated, etc., who are in prison, or in hell, without hope, without God, and unworthy as yet of gospel instruction. Such spirits, if they could communicate, would not tell you of the resurrection, or of any of the gospel truths; for they know nothing about them. They would not tell you about heaven, or priesthood, for in all their meanderings in the world of spirits, they have never been privileged with the ministry of a holy priest. If they should tell all the truth they possess, they could not tell much.”

Ultimately, as Pratt and current LDS doctrine define, the responsibilities of righteous spirits mandate more service. The second estate is not a period of blissful rest, but more missionary work.

In fact, Pratt is a bit prescient in his disdain of today’s pop-fascination with “ghost-hunting,” as well as the fad of spiritualism, which was beginning its long popularity in the mid-19th century. As Pratt explains in his discourse, the righteous spirits have little interest in what occurs on earth; they are far too preoccupied with serving the countless spirits who need assistance.

He even describes what the spirit world must be like for the slain Mormon Prophet Joseph Smith, saying: “… if I were to judge from the acquaintance I had with him in this life, and from my knowledge of the spirit of priesthood I would suppose him to be so hurried as to have little or no time to cast an eye or a thought after his friends on the earth. He was always busy while here, and so are we. The spirit of our holy ordination and anointing will not let us rest. The spirit of his calling will never suffer him to rest, while Satan, sin, death or darkness possess a foot of ground on this earth. While the spirit world contains the spirit of one of his friends, or the grave holds captive one of their bodies he will never rest, or slacken his labors.”

Parley P. Pratt envisioned a world of spirits with missionaries, and their superiors, on the run, constantly busy, trying to fulfill what is the mantra of Mormonism’s Heavenly Father, who is quoted in LDS scripture as such, “… this is my work and my glory — to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39, The Pearl of Great Price)

Today’s LDS General Conference sessions often feature shorter, earnest “peanut butter & jelly” speeches that reflect a safer, more cautious era.

Pratt’s discourses and writings provide a rougher, but healthier meal.

-- Doug Gibson

Apocryphal Hale vision underscores LDS passion for baptism for the dead

With my faith’s practice of baptism for the dead, in my opinion, so misunderstood, it was interesting that this five-page Heber Q. Hale “vision” fell on my desk. It alleges to be a divine vision of the spirit world that Hale, president of the Boise, Idaho, stake almost 100 years ago, received between midnight to 7:30 a.m. on Jan. 20, 1920. Also, Hale is alleged to have delivered the account of his vision in October 1920 at an LDS “Genealogical Conference” in Salt Lake City.

Journalism has hardened my skepticism, and I was prepared to chuckle over Hale’s account. Instead, the account moved me. Maybe it’s because I have an infant son who died, and Hale offers words that would comfort LDS parents who have experienced the death of a young child. Also, the Hale “vision” provides a traditional representation of how Latter-day Saints perceive the afterlife. The Mormon belief in restored Gospel, priesthood authority, necessity of baptism, confirmation, temple ordinances, and other keys and requirements to eternal progression, are underscored in Hale’ comforting “vision.”

It’s such a fun bit of Mormon lore, the Hale “vision,” that it’s almost a shame to throw cold water on it. BYU-Idaho-approved or not, it’s at best apocryphal second- or third-hand stuff, at worst a deliberate hoax. Contributor J. Stapley at the Mormon blog bycommonconsent does a capable job of investigating the Hale “vision." Read the comments too. There’s no record of this account in Hale family books, no record of a “genealogy conference” in Salt Lake City, and other “supporting” material provides names and titles that don’t check out. As one comment on the blog noted, it’s amazing how often Mormons will ignore the canonized examples of modern-day visions, such as Joseph F. Smith’s vision of the Celestial Kingdom, and obsess over the “White Horse Prophecy,” or our current subject.

Having established that the Hale Vision should not be LDS-approved curriculum, I don’t believe it’s a malicious hoax. It sounds like a dream that a deeply religious individual, very versed in Mormon history and theology, may have had. Whether the dream was Hale’s, who died in 1969, or was simply attached to his name, who knows? Hale was born in 1880, early enough to be influenced by how strongly dreams were attached to religious experiences from the 19th century into the 20th century. The LDS Prophet Wilford Woodruff, as Stapley notes, constantly cataloged his dreams. A denunciation of spiritualism and seances from Hale, who asserts those are wicked spirits toying with the foolish, sounds like it would have come from that era. Frankly, I would not be surprised if there were many Latter-day Saints who experienced dreams similar to the Hale Vision.

But I digress. Whoever penned the vision, there are segments that underscore why Mormons believe so fervently in baptism for the dead. I’ll start with one segment that tore at my heart, when infant children are observed. It reads, “I was surprised to find there no babies in arms. I met the infant son of Orson W. Rawlings, my first counselor. I immediately recognized him as the baby who died a few years ago, and yet he seemed to have the intelligence and, in certain respect, the appearance of an adult, and was engaged in matters pertaining to his family and its genealogy. My mind was quite contented upon the point that mothers will again receive into their arms their children who died in infancy and will be fully satisfied, but the fact remains that entrance into the world of spirits is not an inhibition of growth but the greatest opportunity of development. Babies are adult spirits in infant bodies.”

The concept of life, death, and the spirit world as distinct levels of eternal life is captured here: “I passed but a short distance from my body through a film into the world of spirits. This was my first experience after going to sleep. I seemed to realize that I had passed through the change called death and I so referred to it in my conversation with the immortal beings with whom I immediately came into contact. I readily observed their displeasure at our use of the word death and the fear which we attach to it. They use there another word in referring to the transition from mortality to immortality, which word I don’t recall and I can only approach its meaning and the impression which was left upon my mind, by calling it ’the New Birth.’”

The veil, a term used often by Latter-day Saints to indicate how close, yet separate life’s existence is from the spirit world, is exemplified in this paragraph, “My first visual impression was the nearness of the world of spirits to the world of mortality. The vastness of this heavenly sphere was bewildering to the eyes of the spirit-novice. Many enjoyed unrestricted vision, and unimpeded action, while many others were visibly restricted as to both vision and action. The vegetation and landscape were beautiful beyond description; not all green as here, but gold with varying shades of pink, orange, and lavender as the rainbow. A sweet calmness pervaded everything. The people I met there I did not think of as spirits, but as men and women, self-thinking and self-acting individuals, going about important business in a most orderly manner. There was perfect order there and everybody had something to do and seemed to be about their business.”

The concept of family, which lasts forever, far beyond earth, is in this short graph: “As I passed forward, I soon met my beloved mother. She greeted me most affectionately and expressed surprise at seeing me there, and reminded me that I had not completed my allotted mission on earth. She seemed to be going somewhere and was in a hurry and, accordingly, took her leave with saying that she would see me soon again.”

The busyness or Mormon afterlife, the hustle and bustle of making sure that all the required ordinances of the Gospel are met, are found in this segment, which frankly explains baptism for the dead as well as any LDS general authority talking in a conference could: “All men and women were appointed to special and regular service under a well organized plan of action, directed principally toward preaching the gospel to the unconverted, teaching those who seek knowledge and establishing family relationships and gathering genealogies for the use and benefit of mortal survivors of their respective families, that the work of baptism and the sealing ordinances may be vicariously performed for the departed in the temples of God upon the earth. The authorized representatives of families in the world of spirits have access to our temple records and are kept fully advised of the work done therein, but the vicarious work done here does not become automatically effective.

The recipients must first believe, repent and accept baptism and confirmation; then certain consummating ordinances are performed effectualizing these saving principles in the lives of those regenerated beings. And so the great work is going on — they are doing a work there which we cannot do here, and we a work here which they cannot do there, for the salvation of all God’s children who will be saved.”

As doctrine or canon, the Hale vision is, appropriately, officially as inconsequential as the latest “Three Nephites” tale or “Satan as Bigfoot harassing Utah pioneers” account. It could even be a wonderfully moving piece of fiction designed to deceive. But it does a decent job of explaining why we Mormons are running around baptizing all the relatives of so many non-Mormons. I don’t think it would hurt if those outraged over the baptisms read Hale’s “vision.”

-- Doug Gibson

This column was originally published at StandardBlogs.

Near-death experiences get treatment from a Mormon perspective

I’m fascinated by the pop science/theology behind near-death experiences. I’ve read the “Life After Life” books by Raymond Moody and several similar books. It was interesting to discover another book, “Glimpses Beyond Death’s Door,” by Brent L. and Wendy C. Top, from the publisher Covenant Communications, which strictly follows LDS theology and authority. One can assume that “Glimpses …” has been thoroughly vetted by LDS leaders.

The authors provide a fascinating, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink, overview of near-death accounts, using many sources liberally with an emphasis on the “Journal of Near-Death Studies” and the book “Heaven and Hell,” by Emanuel Swedenborg, the 18th century Swedish Lutheran and scientist who claimed to have received access to the afterlife. Also, there are numerous discourses and writings from LDS Church leaders, including “Journal of Discourses” accounts from Brigham Young, Parley P. Pratt and Orson Pratt.

If one had to summarize the “Glimpses …” approach quickly, it’d be, “throw out traditional, man-made concepts of crime and punishment” and “law and order.” Based on a consistency in nature of the NDE accounts compiled, compassion and love are the dominating sensations experienced at death. Whether greeted by family members, a guardian angel, or a life reviewer, death appears to be a very positive experience. Many didn’t want to return and were unaffected by the grieving of family members and friends.

(I will digress here to mention that for this essay, I am assuming that these experiences are real, although other than the amount of professed NDEs out there, they certainly can’t be proven. Belief in divinity, an afterlife, or other theological claims cannot be proven, and that’s why heated debate usually leads nowhere. But even for skeptics, I’d wager the topic has interest.)

LDS theology teaches that after death, we go to a spirit world, which is located here on earth, but in another sphere which we can’t see as mortals. Much of “Glimpses …” is devoted to taking the many NDEs of Swedenborg, Moody and others, and applying what they witnessed as glimpses into an LDS-taught afterlife spirit world. While readers must be aware that the authors can pick and choose sources as they wish, the Tops do make an effort to put most precedence on NDEs from non-Mormon sources.

Based on “Glimpses …,” it’s clear that death, and the subsequent journey into a spirit existence, is not a place where a “true church,” or “true gospel,” is revealed to newly arrived spirits. In fact, the most persons who have had NDEs, the authors claim, experience a jump in spirituality, but not any discernible move toward a particular religion. In fact, the afterlife spirit world, based on many of the NDE accounts, is a place where autonomy, the ability to choose, still exists for the deceased person.

Despite being in a sphere that is more advanced than earth’s (time travel and increased, almost effortless comprehension of reason, memory and why bad things happen have been reported) there is no traditional purgatory or hell. However, most accounts show a separation of spirits based on knowledge accumulated and charitable love expressed for others while on earth. The spirits who might be in a place considered “paradise” are not tethered to their own self interests or to so-called worldly pleasures. They want to serve others. They also appear to shine with a greater light. Spirits who might be considered to be in a “prison” are focused on their own personal needs or worldly indulgences. It is hypothesized that these latter group of spirits, still obsessed with the world and themselves, are those who haunt TV ghost shows, or seances, etc.

Not surprisingly, spirits tend to congregate based on similarities of light and interests. It is hypothesized by many that more self-centered spirits are simply not comfortable within the light that more “righteous” spirits possess. Hence, “hell” or spirit “prison” is defined not as an application of pain, but an inability to comfortably exist with other, more righteous people. (This frequent NDE observation may be one reason that conservative, fundamentalist Christians, who preach a literal hell of eternal pain and fire, are often very skeptical of NDEs.)

In “Glimpses …,” the authors point to these distinctions, personal autonomy, and the absence of a “true church” or “gospel” as evidence that missionary work is active in the afterlife spirit world. This is one main concept, of course, that distinguishes this NDE book from others. What may surprise LDS readers of “Glimpses …” is that missionary work in the spirit world appears to be harder than missionary work here on earth. The Tops quote Swedenborg, who describes an afterlife of spirits waiting to be taught more information, but not until they are ready to receive it.

One of the more interesting concepts of afterlife found in “Glimpses …” is that it is far harder to convert a spirit than it was during that spirit’s mortal existence. That’s because a spirit retains all that he or she learned — secular or non-secular — into the spirit world. Personalities and beliefs are molded in life, as well as passions, biases, prejudices and pride. In other NDEs recounted in “Glimpses …,” persons who had been skeptics of divine authority while on earth were observed still believing what they had once taught, and rationalizing, in a manner favorable to their own self interests, what they were now experiencing.

The idea that persons are assigned in the afterlife based on where they feel comfortable is similar to the C.S. Lewis novella, “The Great Divorce,” where residents of “hell” are taken on a journey to “heaven,” where spirits there minister to those in hell and attempt to convince them to remain with them, endure some discomfort (a metaphor for repentance), and live in heaven. Most of the travelers reject the offer, either because they are still afflicted with self pride and self pity, or, interestingly, believe that they are already in heaven.

That may sum up a key theme of “Glimpses …,” which is that in the spirit world, we end up basically where we are most comfortable. In Mormon doctrine, this requires a Millennium’s worth of missionary work, and the attendant effort to bring everyone to knowledge of God’s plan of salvation. Rather than viewed condescendingly, or as a tool to argue with, “Glimpses …” can be an interesting — and unique — opportunity to learn how Mormon theology views NDEs and how it fits into its doctrine.

-       Doug Gibson

A version of this column was previously published at StandardBlogs.

C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce and the LDS Spirit World

A couple of times a year, usually on a Sunday after church, I re-read C.S. Lewis’ marvelous post-mortal novella/fable “The Great Divorce.” It relates a journey of diminutive spirits (referred to as ghosts) to the outskirts of Heaven, where they are greeted by much larger, more powerful exalted spirits, eager to help them take a painful journey beyond the mountains to Heaven. The journey, and its accompanying pain, is a metaphor for repentance and shedding of sins.

Most of the “ghosts,” despite the mild persuasion of loved ones, friends and acquaintances who greet them, refuse the trip to Heaven. They prefer Hell because it allows them to retain their earthly passions and sins, obsessions, earthly pride, angers resentments, self-pity, manipulation, and narcissism. That is the foundation of what Lewis is teaching in his novella; that one must surrender the earth for Heaven.

As Lewis writes, “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ’Thy will be done,” and those to who God says in the end, ’Thy will be done.’“

”The Great Divorce“ can be called Dante-like. It’s a journey with many experiences, with a narrator and a teacher. Understand, I make no claim that C.S. Lewis saw any similarities between ”The Great Divorce“ and the Mormon concept of the post-mortal spirit world. In fact, Lewis — on more than one occasion — reminds readers that his story is a fantasy, and says, ”The last thing I wish is to arouse factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.“

Personally, I think Lewis had his tongue in his cheek with that remark, because of course ”The Great Divorce“ ”arouse(s) factual curiosity about the details of the after-world.“ And the concept of spirits retaining their weaknesses and more exalted spirits zealously attempting to teach them ”the right“ is a central tenant of Mormonism. But let me backtrack: From my earliest years in the LDS Church, I was taught that after we die, we either go to paradise or ”spirit prison.“ (For many childhood years, I envisioned ”spirit prison“ as a clean jail with bars, where orderly ”wicked“ spirits waited for good spirits to teach them the Gospel ...)

Instead, Mormon theology puts the spirits world as being on the earth. In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Alma taught that — like Lewis’ ghosts — what’s learned and appreciated on earth is carried to the spirit world. In the LDS post-mortal spirit world, there is no confirmation of any ”correct Gospel.“ Spirits congregate where they are most comfortable. The ”righteous“ spirits — like Lewis’ spirits — attend to spirits who need to learn the truth. I imagine much of the ”missionary work“ is without success. (As a lifelong Mormon, it’s impossible not to imagine these spirit ”missionaries“ as wearing dark suits and ties, or sisters in dresses, and carrying flip charts and Scriptures as they knock on doors in ”Spirit Prison.“)

In ”The Great Divorce,“ Lewis talks about many ghosts who are so obsessed with their earthly lives that they return to homes, places of work, etc., and ”haunt“ them. (Now, what I’m saying next is ”Doug doctrine“ and not LDS belief, but one reason I flinch at watching LDS football on Sunday is that I have this feeling a host of spirits — all obsessed with the Dallas Cowboys, etc., are also watching the game. If I turn the tube off and put on a CD of church music, they’ll take off! I also wonder about those kitschy reality ghost-hunting shows on TV. Are the malicious spirits having fun with us humans?)

(Yeah, I’m still being tongue in cheek now but what comes next is serious.) Lewis’s relating that the souls of purgatory/hell were handicapped by their earthly attachments parallels the LDS belief that missionary spirits are attempting to teach other spirits to shed those same attachments. A chief distinction, of course, is that Lewis considers his ”Hell and Heaven“ as the end result, while LDS theology sees the ”Spirit World“ as a far earlier part of our eternal existence. It is interesting, though, that ”The Great Divorce“ envisions active efforts to convert unbelievers after death; a concept that Mormonism can relate to. ”The Great Divide“ also places a person’s humility and true charity as more favorable than excessive religion and excessive charity, reminding the reader that these can become earthly obsessions which consume our other responsibilities.

As former Standard-Examiner cartoonist Cal Grondahl says, religion exists in one part to comfort us about our approaching death. C.S. Lewis, as a Christian, believed in life after death. To the righteous, his novella comforts, as the Mormon Spirit World comforts devout Mormons. I have no idea if Lewis regarded Mormons as Christians, but his novella — in which spirits find themselves more comfortable in dim, dreary, contentious surroundings and resist missionary efforts that offer a more exalted state — connects with LDS doctrine.

Also, it’s very interesting that in Lewis’ ”Hell,“ there are ghosts who have strayed so far away from the ”bus station“ that offers ghosts the opportunity to visit ”Heaven.“ As a result, they can’t go to Heaven’s outskirts anymore. This is similar to LDS doctrine, in which spirits in ”spirit prison“ are separated by those who are still teachable and those who are not. I recommend ”The Great Divorce“ to anyone, of course, but also to LDS readers who will find the unintentional similarities very interesting.

-- Doug Gibson

This column was previously published at StandardBlogs.