Utah County Dream Mine still attracts LDS apocalyptic faithful

 

--

This blog post was originally published in January 2011 on the now-defunct StandardBlogs. To my knowledge there are still many invested in the Dream Mine, although no work searching for riches goes on at the site. According to Wikipedia, there was an investors meeting in 2018. 

One of the more fascinating nuggets in Utah Mormon history sits at the foot of a mountain in southern Utah County. Its official name is the Relief Mine, but most know of it as the “Dream Mine.” A long-used white mill building sits next to the mine, mostly inactive for decades. Nevertheless, the Relief Mine is a public company with assets of about $3.5 million. Stock in the mine is traded and there’s a waiting list to buy shares.

As Payson, Utah, writer/historian Kevin Cantera writes in the most recent Sunstone, “investors seeking to purchase a stake in the mine happily place their names on a waiting list for the chance to pay $30 to $35 for a single share — shares with a real value, by the most generous accounting, of less than $10 each.”

Cantera’s piece, “Fully Invested: Taking Stock in Utah County’s Dream Mine,” is as much a history lesson as it is a glimpse into the first 80 or so years of the LDS Church, where visions and prophecies from higher, celestial powers, whether from dad, your bishop or a general authority, were common. That’s a lost era. If a ward member gets up today and claims to have seen Christ or the Angel Moroni, we’re apt to trade concerned glances with our seat neighbors and look embarrassed. The bishop might call a regional rep if the claim is repeated. Can anyone imagine one of today’s apostles recounting experiences that early apostle Parley P. Pratt records in his diary?

The shareholders in the Dream Mine are a throwback to the 19th century. They believe that deep into the Utah County mine there are piles and piles of gold and other precious artifacts, collected by the Nephites of Book of Mormon times. As Cantera recounts, some believe that perhaps the Sword of Laban, or even The Golden Plates, are hidden deep in the earth. The Relief Mine stockholders of the early 21st century aren’t looking for a return that will prompt a hefty capital gains tax. They expect their mine to pay off when the United States is on the brink of collapse and the dollar and other secular monetary systems have fallen.

The precious metals from the mine, and its relation to the Gospel, they believe, will save our nation from destruction in the last days. It’s an apocalyptic desire, one that was much more common 100-plus years ago, when a healthy percentage of blessings and priesthood ordinances promised the recipient that he or she would see the second coming of the Savior.

The prophet who launched the dream mine was Mormon bishop John Hyrum Koyle, who in 1894 claimed a nightime visit from the Angel Moroni, who showed him inside a mountain where there was a rich vein of gold. Lower down were nine caverns filled with Book of Mormon treasures, including the Urim and Thummim.

Koyle spent a long life preaching the doctrine of the Dream Mine and receiving revelations. He had some prominent LDS shareholders, including general authority J. Golden Kimball. The fact that there are still more than 1,000 faithful Latter-day Saints who believe Koyle’s claims underscores faithful Mormons’ strong belief of personal revelation from God. What was shouted from the pulpit long ago is regarded as best kept as a secret today, but there are enough apocalyptic Latter-day Saints out there to follow Koyle’s dream 117 years later.

And, although Koyle — after taking his spiritual mine public — was eventually repudiated by church leaders in 1913, and finally excommunicated in 1947, there are still mine stockholders, including Ogden’s Fred Naisbitt, who is quoted by Cantera as saying, “Koyle is second only to Joseph Smith in the number and accuracy of his prophecies.”

The white mill, which only gleaned 100 dollars worth of ore one year, still sits by the mountain near Spanish Fork, which draws more subdivision neighbors each year it seems. As Cantera reports, the Internet has strengthened the faith of the Dream Mine believers. The Web site is http://www.reliefmine.com but doresn't seem to work now. It had featured a glowing testimony of Koyle and links to other primitive LDS beliefs such as the White Horse Prophecy as well as notices that “the dollar will be utterly destroyed.” There is a Facebook page with contact information.

Who knows? Maybe the dollar will be destroyed. But to most Mormons, even in Utah County, the longer odds are on the Dream Mine one day paying off.

-- Doug Gibson

I guess I was a missionary who wasn’t pressured to baptize

(This piece was posted to the now-defunct StandardBlogs in July 2013).

Before I get into my subject, memo to Sunstone fans; the June 2013 issue is the best I have read. Every article — from letters to in-depth features, was a must-read. And filmmaker Richard Dutcher offers an excellent short story, “Expiation.” This week’s blog was partially inspired by (the now late)Tom Kimball, who once handled books at Signature. In a short, personal essay in which Kimball offers his sentiments on watching — as a former Mormon — LDS priesthood holders set apart his LDS son for a mission, he wonders what his son will be like after his mission.

This line stayed with me: “Will the numbers game that rules so many missions open his eyes to my unbelieving view of Mormonism?” The “numbers game.” I have heard accounts, by Mormons and former Mormons, of the salesmanship pressures of baptizing. The “numbers game” pressure is a fixture in contemporary Mormon-themed fiction sold outside Deseret Book. I don’t doubt there’s a “numbers game” but the concept is foreign to me because I , drum roll, never experienced it during my time as a missionary. Not from the president, the assistants, the zonies …

I served an 18-month mission (1983-1984) in the Peru Lima North mission. It was a high-baptizing mission. In the 16 months I was in the field, my companions and I averaged between 8 to 9 baptisms a month. I assume those numbers were about average in the mission. I was in Iquitos (by the Amazon River), Chiclayo, Lima and Chimbote, a city blessed with too many fish factories and seemingly no rules on pollution. In Chimbote, we were frequently assaulted with waves of fish smoke!

Note from today: (The picture above is of the Ayllon family, who myself and my senior companion, Elder Rodger Worthen, taught the Gospel to and baptized the couple. The family has remained active in the LDS. Their sweet son -- standing -- in the photo, Jorge, died a decade-plus later while on his mission. Others in the family have served missions. Rodger, God bless his soul, died in 2020.)

Of course, we were urged to gather prospects, urge a commitment to baptism during the first discussion, and baptize converts, but there was never the follow-up pressure and cheers for baptizers and scorn for non-baptizers. We knocked doors in the AM, studied for a couple of hours in the afternoon (siesta time) and in the late afternoon or evening went to appointments, or knocked doors. Knocking on doors was not a difficult thing to do. I can only recall two occasions when the door was shut in our face.

Recreation was treasured in my mission. We’d get up at 6 am on Mondays to make our Preparation Day as long as possible. My fondest memories are in in Lima, by the Tupac Amaru highway, climbing the hills, early in the morning, in the outskirts of Lima. Near Chiclayo we once visited, via truck, a place sacred to Catholics, called The Cross of Chalpon. There were dozens of these types of trips. They relieved the tension that accompanies 12-hour missionary days six days a week.

On Monday night, there was zone meeting. We reviewed the week, went over procedures, congratulated missionaries on baptisms. But again, no pressure. I wonder if my mission’s easygoing style was due to the numbers of baptisms already being logged? Or was it the strategy of my mission president, an easygoing Idaho farmer named Harvard Bitter. I never saw anything other than good humor from him, and that includes the rare personal visits.

In fact, the “worst” thing that ever happened on my mission was when I was robbed at the Chimbote taxi stop upon arrival there. The casualties were my scriptures, about $70 cash, some Peruvian money, a key chain collection, and the big loss, my mission diary which had logged 15 months of my mission. I hated losing that. I put an ad in the paper, with a reward promised for its return and no questions asked, but maybe the robbers didn’t read the daily paper. (In subsequent weeks I was bemused to see parts of my not inconsiderable key chain collection for sale by street vendors at various locations.)

Warning: Very long sentence follows — Although I realize that my mission diary likely decomposed long ago in a landfill — is it possible that destroyed mission diaries are resurrected in the hereafter? — I still harbor a hope that it’s sitting in some members’ house and that one day, through the magic of social media — which definitely did not exist back then … we weren’t even able to watch LDS conference — I will be reunited with my mission diary, thereby having an absolutely fantastic spiritual anecdote the next time I’m tapped to give a talk in sacrament meeting.

Well, I have digressed from my original topic of not being pressured to baptize. As mentioned, to the best of my memory, I never felt the pressure others describe (even now my Standard Works colleague Cal Grondahl is telling me he was pressured to baptize in his 1969 to 1971 New Zealand mission). The only time I felt harassed was due to an overenthusiastic assistant who was a stickler for rules and was hassling me one day. I exchanged a few sharp words with him, which probably ended my faint hopes of becoming a zone leader. I was a district leader the final eight months of my mission, and was always given responsibilities over sister missionaries. My leadership skills could be summed up as follows: Work hard, and don’t baptize kids unless there’s a member parent or member adult sibling. One overly enthusiastic sister missionary used to complain about my “standards” to President Bitter (I read news magazines and boxing magazines) but the prez just laughed them off. (To be fair, I also polished off the “Book of Mormon” a few times, “Jesus the Christ,” the “Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt,” the “Articles of Faith,” and “Orgullo y Prejucio” (“Pride and Prejudice”), which I picked up in a Chiclayo bookstore.)

This stream of consciousness piece is about over. There’s another article in the current Sunstone, by Scot Denhalter, who ironically was in my mission area several-plus years before I got there. In “The Persistent Impermanence of Memory,” Denhalter argues that our memories may not be what actually occurred. As Denhalter writes, “… as the mind retrieves the raw data of memory for the first time, details needed to establish the logical coherence of the memory’s retelling — details not originally stored or possibly never perceived — can be unconsciously added, while seemingly unnecessary details can be left out or likely lost forever.”

I guess it’s possible my memories are skewed. Maybe I was pressured to baptize. But I doubt it.

-- Doug Gibson

Doubt, rather than knowledge is most compatible with faith

 

Michael Vinson, of Salt Lake City, a master’s graduate of the Divinity School of the University of Cambridge, has a fascinating essay in a past issue of Sunstone. Titled, “The Crisis of Doubt in the Church,” (read here) it offers the proposal that “we formulate a new view of faith and doubt, one that recognizes the latter as an integral part of testimony.”

As has been mentioned in media reports, there is a trend of apostasy in the LDS Church, including “some of the most educated and highest income earners,” as Vinson relates from anecdotal sources. I’d add, citing anecdotal evidence, that many others are young adults who spent their childhoods as active members of the church. Vinson notes that a misunderstanding between faith, knowledge and doubt can hinder efforts to counsel members whose faith is tried and are seeking questions relating to doctrine or LDS Church history.

To get to the nugget, Vinson is arguing that we need to give the acknowledgment of doubt more respect, and to regard it as a major component of faith, rather than a weakness. He writes, “The underlying problem is not the level of a member’s church activity but the fact that they have bought into a false dichotomy about the relationship between faith and doubt … suggesting that the effective exercise of faith requires that one have zero doubt.”

Vinson is on to something here. He quotes Alma 32:18, “for if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe.” In short, we are commanded to have faith, which is something not known. “As Vinson writes, “… if the truthfulness of the plan of salvation and the Church can actually be known, then faith is unnecessary. But since faith is the first principle of the gospel (and therefore necessary), we can conclude that it is certain knowledge, not doubt, that is the opposite of faith.”

Vinson suggests that members of the church embrace a union of faith and doubt, as a way to “believe something” via faith rather than “know something,” which really doesn’t take faith. He argues, convincingly in my opinion, that “it is our emphasis of testimony as a knowing experience rather than as a faith experience that causes our angst.”

The author also cites Mark 9:24, as an example of faith and doubt being in harmony. “And straightway the father of the child cried out with tears, ‘Lord I believe; help thou mine unbelief.’”

Knowledge, as well as perfection, are ends, not journeys. Faith is a journey that includes doubt and obedience. Christianity, and many other faiths, demand that we subject our will, and reason, to an unseen deity. In the LDS faith, we are asked to sustain men as senior representatives of Christ’s church. These are actions that cannot be proven. To say they can is deceiving. They demand faith. Even in times we may doubt there is a loving God or a man who speaks with God, I believe our faith in those things are more powerful than the rhetorical “I know” uttered for the same criteria.

If persons struggling with the claims of any religion, Mormon or otherwise, were told that these feelings are not a spiritual weakness, but a natural, and healthy, component of faith, there might be fewer apostasies. However, that requires tremendous patience, from parents, mentors, siblings and ecclesiastical leaders, such as bishops. Religious beliefs are so bedrock to many of us that to witness a loved one question those beliefs results in hostility. Even the late LDS prophet Spencer W. Kimball reached a point with his eldest son, Spence, a skeptic of Mormonism, where to maintain a relationship the father had to quit talking with the son about his church standing.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published in 2013 at StandardBlogs.

LDS Church News once spoke positively of Hitler, Nazi Germany

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Ernest L. Wilkinson and the BYU tithing police fiasco

In a 2011 issue of Sunstone magazine, Gary James Bergera has a very interesting article, “The Monitoring of BYU Faculty Tithing Payments, 1957-1963,” that involves yet another historical nugget of mirth created by the university’s late president, Ernest D. Wilkinson. Wilkinson, upon assuming the presidency of BYU in the 1950s, was outraged that some BYU professors paid only a partial tithing, and some paid none at all.

(I digress here to admit that I too, was surprised that there were/are tithing shortfalls among BYU professors. I would have that “giving the Lord 10 percent” was something that one wouldn’t have to worry about at the Lord’s University. But it was, and had been for most of the 20th Century. Wilkinson was determined “to use an individual’s tithing history to help determine raises, promotions, and even continuing employment,” writes Bergera.

At one point, Wilkinson told LDS Church President David O. McKay that 27 percent of BYU faculty were either part tithing payers or paid no tithing at all. Wilkinson’s efforts, though, to get detailed reports of faculty tithing records descended into J. Edgar Hoover spoof when he encountered opposition from local bishoprics and stake presidencies. They understood better than Wilkinson the ethical aspects of the Law of Tithing, that taught that it was a private matter between a church member and his ecclesiastical leader. Eventually, Wilkinson was able to get the names of partial and non-tithe payers, but was stymied in his efforts to get specific details.

Wilkinson also received considerable opposition from faculty at BYU, who balked at having their academic credentials be determined by how much tithing they paid. Many faculty members, including department heads, resigned over the rule. At one point Wilkinson groused in his journal that it was primarily “English, political science and history” departments that were in opposition.

One faculty member who found himself in Wilkinson’s aim was Kent Fielding, a BYU instructor who had admitted he no longer had “a testimony of the Gospel.” When asked how he been approved to teach at BYU, Fielding replied that in his interview, apostle (and future LDS President) Harold B. Lee had asked only two questions: “Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?; and, “Have you ever been unfaithful to your wife?”

Wilkinson confronted Lee on Fielding’s claim that his testimony had not been probed during his interview, and Bergera reports, using Wilkinson’s own notes, that it led fiery words between the BYU president and the LDS apostle.

Wilkinson wrote, “… I had told Brother Lee about this at the time, and Brother Lee, whose main weakness as far as I can see is that he cannot accept criticism, had interpreted it as serious criticism on my part of him…” Lee, according to Wilkinson’s recollections, sneered that the BYU president was “naive” if he was unaware that many BYU faculty did not have testimonies of the Gospel. Wilkinson further wrote, “He (Lee) was smarting very much under what I thought was my criticism of him for not having properly interrogated Brother Fielding.”

Fielding, after refusing to pay tithing and answer questions as a protest against Wilkinson’s policy, eventually had his employment terminated.

The policy that Wilkinson eventually crafted and tried to follow was that partial tithe payers would have their raises decreased by the amount they owed on a full tithing. For example, if Wilkinson determined that a professor had robbed the Lord of $600 in his tithing payments, a $1,000 raise for said professor would be decreased to $400. Professors not paying any tithing would be in danger of losing their employment at BYU. Wilkinson insisted more than once that no one was “forced” to pay tithing, while also insisting that any BYU professor who wanted to teach there would pay his tithing.

The policy prompted panicky attempts by some BYU faculty to try to turn back the clock. As Bergera reports, Wilkinson noted in his writings that one professor insisted in his interview that he had paid a full tithing.

When Wilkinson had the matter looked at, he discovered that the professor had gone to his bishop after the New Year and — much to the Bishop’s confusion — had begged that his tithe payment be applied retroactively.

Bergera estimates that over eight years, at least “two dozen (probably more) teachers were dismissed or resigned” due to church problems that had their genesis with Wilkinson’s tithing crackdown.

The BYU leader left the university in 1963 to run a failed U.S. Senate campaign. When he returned, he discovered a church leadership more resistant to the tactics he had advocated during his first term at BYU. As Bergera notes, “current BYU policy strictly prohibits the release of faculty tithing information to university administrators.”

Although I oppose any Wilkinsonian efforts to force tithing payments on any faculty, I am, I confess, surprised that anyone employed by the LDS Church (and that is the employer of BYU faculty) does not pay a full tithe. Maybe it’s because I’m a “born in the baptismal font member,” but before I read Bergera’s piece, I just assumed BYU workers were tithe payers the LDS Church Presiding Bishopric didn’t have to worry about.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs.