Mormon folklore as diverse, tragic and humorous as other religions

 

A friend loaned me a book published in 1956, "Saints of Sage and Saddle: Folklore Among the Mormons," by Austin and Alta Fife, that turned into a treasure over the weekend I read it.

"Saints of Sage..." is a collection of Mormon folk tales and tall tales. Anecdotes abound from diverse sources that include prophets and pioneers. The prologue essay, "A Mormon from the Cradle to the Grave," is just plain outstanding. It's folksy and witty, irreverent but never disrespectful. Latter-day Saints, warts and all, are captured in this book, but there's always an affection underneath the banter.

I'd wager that any reader who has been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for at least 40 years can recall hearing some of the folklore related in the book. One anecdote on polygamy recalls two LDS apostles on the way to Idaho to attend a church meeting passing a school with children tumbling out of the schoolhouse. A non-Mormon reverend turned to the apostle and asked him if the scene reminded him of his childhood. The apostle replied, "No, it reminds me of my father's backyard."

Long ago, when the church was more interesting (as my friend Cal Grondahl says), devils were frequently cast out of hijacked members and the Three Nephites tended not to be so publicity shy. In one anecdote, one of the Nephite trio is generous enough to show himself to an elderly lady who praised God that late in her life her prayer to see a Nephite perform a miracle had been answered. LDS folklore has it that Governor Thomas Ford of Illinois, who failed to protect the Prophet Joseph Smith, died loathsome, unpopular and in poverty. Another past anecdote involves LDS apostle and Logan Temple president Marriner W. Merrill arguing with Satan himself in his temple office, Old Scratch having visited to request that Merrill stop temple proceedings.

The LDS belief in a pre-existence is noted in the book. Allegedly the LDS Prophet Wilford Woodruff warned in his journal that there were literally trillions of Satan's army on earth doing their best to lead them astray. Woodruff's calculation of the earth holding 1 trillion people at a time seems way too high to this reviewer, though. Nevertheless, the Mormon belief in a pre-mortal existence is very personal to members, who worry that they may have lost friends and family members to Lucifer long ago. It can provide mixed emotions on how to respond to temptation of a personal nature.

No book on Mormon folklore would be any good if there wasn't a section on the legendary, cussing, LDS leader J. Golden Kimball. He has a chapter in "Saints of Sage ..." The former mule skinner once said, "Yeah, I love all of God's children, but there's some of them that I love a damn sight more than I do others."

Kimball also possessed wit: When former LDS U.S. Sen. Reed Smoot wanted to marry, he boasted to Kimball that he had just received the blessing of LDS Prophet Heber J. Grant. Kimball dead-panned, "Well now, I just don't know, Reed. I just don't know. You're a pretty old man, you know. And Sister Sheets, she's a pretty young woman. And she'll expect more from you than just the laying on of hands."

And once, during an excommunication trial for a man accused of adultery, Kimball, after hearing the man admit to being in bed with the married woman but not having sex with her, laconically said, "Brethren, I move that the brother be excommunicated. It's obvious that he doesn't have the seed of Israel in him."

The Mountain Meadows Massacre, and its aftermath, created much darker folklore. The wife of a Southern Utah Mormon, in the brief interlude where the spared young children of the slain settlers were being cared for in LDS homes, recalls a woman coming to her in her garden asking to see her child. She was led into the house. The Mormon wife followed the mysterious visitor, who disappeared the moment she reached the room where the child was.

"Saints of Sage and Saddle" is folklore history that the interested will spend hours poring over. Besides the tales, there are old LDS hymns, period photos and an index for quick reference. I choose to end this column with a song Mormons once enjoyed I encountered in this book, and once sung by Ogden's L.M. Hilton:

The Boozer
I was out upon a flicker and had had far too much liquor,
And I must admit that I was quite pie-eyed,
And my legs began to stutter, and I lay down in the gutter
And a pig arrived and lay down by my side.
As I lay there in the gutter with my heart strings all aflutter,
A lady passed and this was heard to say,
You can tell a man who boozes by the company he chooses.
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

 

--Doug Gibson

 

Originally published at StandardBlogs

 

Review: Joseph White Musser: A Mormon Fundamentalist

 

Review by Doug Gibson

Polygamy sects in more modern times are full of negative reports. Girls being beaten by parents who want to marry much older men, young marriagable men cast out, becoming "lost boys" because the gray beards living the "principle" want young wives, murders the past couple of generations between rival groups; not to mention the more recent capture and incarceration of Warren Jeffs for multiple felonies.

It's interesting to read a short biography, Joseph White Musser: A Mormon Fundamentalist, Cristina M. Rosetti, 2024, University of Illinois Press. (Here's an Amazon link.) The book, Rosetti notes, is "For the Mormons who call Joseph W. Musser a prophet." It is a mostly favorable biography, not without good reason. Musser, born into a polygamous family in 1872, grew up well into adulthood within a church and Utah culture that considered polygamous unions as a key toward exaltation, or the highest perch in the afterlife. Musser had commuications, some personal, with apostles, stake presidents and others who fervently believed in polgamy; events that occurred well after the Manifestos that purpotedly ended polygamy. In fact, Musser claims in his autobiography that LDS Church President Lorenzo Snow invited him to marry his first plural wife in 1899, well after the First Manifesto. It's accepted today that plural marriage continued after the Woodruff Manifesto, including among apostles.

But after the second Manifesto in 1904, delivered by Church President Joseph F. Smith, Rosetti notes that a trajectory of evdents occurred that would eventually lead to Musser's excommunication and expulsion from the Utah's church's acceptance. He would lose his job and the fidelity of some of his wives. Most of his children did not embrace polygamy. But Musser stayed committed to polygamy and proudly took on the mantle of Mormon fundamentalist. He edited and wrote essays in more than one publication, primarily Truth. He achieved top ecclesiastical status as a polygamous leader, and was imprisoned for a short time after the Short Creed raid of the 1940s. That's ironic because his father, Amos, was jailed in the mid 1880s. As Rosetti notes, for the same crime as his son.

Musser never wavered from his beliefs, despite the material and familial dysfunction it caused. Rosetti notes that late in his life he had concerns about the autocratic rule of polygamous leader Leroy Johnson. This dysfunctional leadership would eventually lead to the modern evil of Warren Jeffs. But Musser is revered today by nearly all Mormon fundamentalists as a prophet, and his articles and pamphlets still read with devout interest. He also penned an autobiography.

As Rosetti notes, Musser was influenced by Lorin C. Wooley, another polygamist leader. He attended the Wooley School of the Prophets, which included teachings that Adam was our God and that he had three wives. As Musser's writing grew, he was another voice for several polygamous beliefs: that the Priesthood was more powerful than both the church and its leaders; that the conventional Mormon's belief in tithing was sinful, and did not represent a true law of consecration that would provide equally to all; and, also, that Mormonism's third prophet, John Taylor, had a received a revelation in 1886 that commanded the church never to give up polygamy.

These beliefs compiled by Rosetti in the book underscore why Mormon fundamentalism will likely never go away. It has its history. It has its revelations. It has its modern-day prophets. Musser fully believed that one day the world will be saved by a high council of polygamous leaders.

Only one chapter is dedicated to Musser's life. The rest of the books focuses on Musser's doctrinal writings and key tenants of Mormon fundamentalism. Shortly before his death, Musser was deemed "patriarch in the high priesthood" among polygamist largely lead by a chiropracter, Rulon Allred. Musser died in 1954. Rosetti appropriately notes his death as such: "In a time of significant change in the LDS Church, Mussers's life is an exemplary account of a Mormon who disagreed with the church's response to modernization."

Book explores Mormonism from a Peruvian perspective

 

In 1983, when I was 19, I began my LDS mission in Iquitos, Peru. It's a major city in the Amazon by the river. Early in my tenure there I was sitting in Sacrament meeting when a deacon passed me a note from the ward bishop. It read, in castellano, "Elder, could you give a 10-minute talk after this song?" I barely spoke the language, but soldiered through a halting talk.

What I recall about my mission was how "western" the LDS Church was. The meetings copied what I grew up with. The hymns were the same, and young 19 year olds like myself were frequently asked to provide advice to lay leaders scores older than me.

This was a time, it must be noted, before the Internet or even cable (in Peru). Semiannual general conferences were not provided on TV or radio. An LDS general authority traveling was a bigger deal than it is now, and it was infrequent. Two arrived during my then 18-month mission.

Being considered a "Gospel authority" did not trouble or surprise me. I thought I was there to teach the members. I realize now that attitude was condescending and an example of implicit bias from a still-teen adult whose only trips out of the U.S. had been to Baja California. Nevertheless, I made lifelong friends in Peru, many of whom I now connect with on Facebook. Some live in the U.S.

"Forever Familias: Race, Gender and Indigeneity in Peruvian Mormonism," by Jason Palmer, University of Illinois Press, 2024, is not an easy read. It's a scholarly book, and I wouldn't be suprised if it's used as a textbook in classes.

It does have value as Palmer has painstakingly interviewed Peruvian Latter-day Saints, including those who have immigrated to the United States. It deals with these members attempting to blend the culture and traditions into a U.S.-based faith led by males, most of which are probably conservative Chamber of Commerce types. 

I won't go into depth but here are examples of how Peruvian members may differ from their U.S. counterparts. One immigrant interviewed by Palmer had a different perspective on getting a Visa through less than ethical means. Rather than tagging it as a sin, it was considered a miracle of God to be able to enter and live in a place that offers more opportunities.

Another contrast is Peruvian contextualizing the long-held Utah Mormon "pioneer story" to fit their history in Peru, with the high points, low points, tragedy, suffering and blood spilt.

A key fact I learned from Palmer is that South America's role in the Book of Mormon is a topic of study mostly ignored in the West and the church. He notes that a Book of Mormon think tank in South America has been snubbed.

Palmer also interviews members who said they were struggling in their faith, asking God for help, when a knock on the door was the crux, or miracle, that led them to the Gospel. This resonated with me as I met people at the door who told me they had been praying for me. That impressed me greatly and I understand now it underscores the Peruvian belief in fate and miracles.

I disagree with Palmer on some underlying opinions. I don't believe, as he said in an interview, that "The United States, and therefore The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is a force of destruction and colonization."

But I am encouraged at his assertion -- which I have heard from my Peruvian friends -- that Peruvians believe Peru is more compatible to Mormonism ideals than the U.S. That gives me hope that in today's world, a Sacrament meeting in Iquitos is more influenced by Peru and not the church office building in Salt Lake City.

-- Doug Gibson

Doctrine on children who die fulfills a primal desire for Latter-day Saint parents

The second-hardest thing I have ever done is hold my infant son in my arms and watch Ray die. The hardest task for my wife and me were allowing Ray to die without a fight. He was born in 2000 with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, which meant that his heart wouldn’t function on its own. After reviewing the doctors’ options, which involved a high expectation of pain for Ray and a survival chance that a dispassionate observer would rate as virtually nil, we allowed our son to die.


A key advantage of grief is that it allows sorrow to be put into perspective. The months before Ray’s birth, when he was diagnosed, and several months to years after his short life, were very difficult. Moments intended for matrimonial passion become a time for tears when you look into your spouse’s eyes and know what both of you are thinking of. You look at children born at the same time as Ray and resist an impulse of bitter envy. You mentally plug your ears to condolences that your child “was too pure for the world” or vain exclamations from the pulpit of how prayer saved so and so’s child.

But grief is a positive. With time, it allows comprehension to sink in that what happened to your child happens to many, many others every year. You realize that 24 hours with a healthy baby makes you very lucky compared to the countless others left to die too early in terrifying circumstances, with no one to comfort them. If you don’t understand that life’s not fair, that our Creator doesn’t play favorites, then grief can turn you into a selfish, self-pitying person — and that’s a bigger shame than the loss of an innocent.

My wife and I do cling to a faith-based belief that others may call fantasy. We’re LDS, and we regard Joseph Smith as a prophet. When Smith was alive, he taught this, according to a 1918 edition of The Improvement Era: 

President Joseph F. Smith, the sixth President of the Church, reported: ‘Joseph Smith taught the doctrine that the infant child that was laid away in death would come up in the resurrection as a child; and, pointing to the mother of a lifeless child, he said to her: ‘You will have the joy, the pleasure and satisfaction of nurturing this child, after its resurrection, until it reaches the full stature of its spirit.’ …

"In 1854, I met with my aunt [Agnes Smith], the wife of my uncle, Don Carlos Smith, who was the mother of that little girl [Sophronia] that Joseph Smith, the Prophet, was speaking about, when he told the mother that she should have the joy, the pleasure, and the satisfaction of rearing that child, after the resurrection, until it reached the full stature of its spirit; and that it would be a far greater joy than she could possibly have in mortality, because she would be free from the sorrow and fear and disabilities of mortal life, and she would know more than she could know in this life. I met that widow, the mother of that child, and she told me this circumstance and bore testimony to me that this was what the Prophet Joseph Smith said when he was speaking at the funeral of her little daughter."

I choose to believe that I, with many other happy parents, will raise children who died too soon. I’m not convinced of that because a group of retired businessmen say it. I base it on my faith in a loving God and a primal desire to have that privilege. 

But if I’m wrong, I refuse to be disappointed. The 24 hours my wife and I had with Ray was another blessing we will always thank God for.


-- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardNET in 2010

John Corrill was an older Christian convert to the early Mormon church

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The early years of the Mormon Church are distinct for its young converts, with 20-something apostles embracing the progressive, radical-for-its-time distinctions between Joseph Smith’s Mormonism and the traditional Protestant Christianity. However, there was another type of early LDS convert; an older generation who embraced Christian primitivism, which encompassed a desire to return to strict Biblical principles, disdained “priestcraft,” and had a libertarian streak, mixed with republican ideals, that opposed a centralized church leadership dictating to local church groups. Most importantly, this type of convert would never place a prophet’s opinion over his own personal beliefs.

Given the direction the Mormon Church took over its 14-plus years with Smith solely at its helm, it’s not surprising that a substantial number of the older-generation converts did not stick with Mormonism. Perhaps the best example of this type of early Mormon convert who enjoyed prominence in the young church but later abandoned it is John Corrill, who is mentioned a couple of times in the Doctrine of Covenants. In the book “Differing Visions: Dissenters in Mormon History,” University of Illinois Press, 1994, historian Kenneth H. Winn provides an interesting recap of Corrill’s life and tenure in Mormonism. A Christian primitivist, Corrill, who turned 36 in 1831, initially investigated Mormonism with a determination to expose its follies. However, Corrill, who admired the primitivist teachings of Alexander Campbell, was shocked when he heard Sidney Rigdon, a former Campbell advocate he admired, pitching Mormonism enthusiastically.

As Winn notes, Corrill, a Massachusetts native, read The Book of Mormon and decided he could not declare it a fraud. Also, Mormonism appealed to specific primitivists such as Corrill in that it contained a certainty of belief that they sought, whether with the Book of Mormon or a yearning for “a prophet who could speak for God.” He, as well as his wife and family, joined the church in 1831 in Ohio.

Soon after his baptism, Corrill, after serving a mission, was sent to Missouri to help develop the church’s growth there. He served under Bishop Edward Partridge. It was here that Corrill first clashed with Smith’s leadership. Both he and Partridge favored a more local control than Smith wanted, and both were criticized by the Mormon prophet. Also, Corrill foresaw the problems that would develop with mass migration of poor Mormon converts to land long dominated by non-Mormon Missourians. The combination of religious bigotry among Missourians as well as unwise boasting by saints of establishing a religious and political kingdom led to violence and conflicts that the Mormons would always lose over the years.

Despite the conflict with church leadership, Corrill mended his problems with Smith and according to Winn, had a very strong ecclesiastical relationship with the young prophet through the mid-1830s. In 1836, Winn notes, Corrill was appointed by Joseph Smith to head the completion of the Kirtland Temple. Corrill also developed a reputation of being the Mormon leader who was best able to negotiate with anti-Mormon elements in Missouri. By 1837, Corrill was a leading Mormon settler in Far West, Missouri, ”selected ... as the church’s agent and as the ‘Keeper of the Lord’s Storehouse,’” writes Winn.

But that was the peak that preceded the fall of Corrill’s tenure in the church. As tranquil as events in Far West were, an ill-fated banking endeavor in Kirtland by Smith and other church leaders was leading to apostasy and tense disputes between church leaders and native Missourians. Corrill, Winn writes, regarded the Kirtland monetary failure with “revulsion.” He saw the lust for wealth, and the subsequent fall, as evidence of “suffered pride.” Yet he was as critical of Smith’s dissenters as he was of the banking effort. Also, Corrill still believed that the overall church, with auxiliaries serving as checks and balances, could reform itself and maintain the better relations between Mormons and non-Mormons that still existed in Far West.

That was not to be. The turmoil of Kirtland followed the church to Far West. To cut to the chase, a speech by Rigdon, called the “Salt Sermon,” appalled Corrill. In it, Ridgon, comparing apostates to salt having lost its savor, argued that they could be “trodden under the foot of men.” In short, Rigdon said that the dissenters “deserved ill treatment.”

Corrill warned the dissenters that their safety was in danger. Later, the Danites, a Mormon vigilante group, was organized. The militant group frightened Corrill, who began to work against it in secret. As Winn explains, “The crisis that began in Kirtland and eventually swept Corrill up in Missouri marked a major turning point in early Mormon history, pitting the theocratically minded devotees of the prophet, who regarded opposition to the church leadership as opposition to God, against more libertarian minded dissenters, who rejected the First Presidency’s claim over their temporal affairs and the authoritarian demand for blind obedience.”

Corrill saw the Danites and Ridgon’s call for conflict in direct opposition to the Biblical belief that God is responsible for divine retribution. From this point on, 1838, Corrill was basically in wait to be excommunicated, no longer trusted by the Smith/Ridgon leadership of the church. Nevertheless, church leaders acknowledged Corrill’s reputation for honesty by electing him — with the Danites’ support — to the Missouri legislature. The final break between Smith and Corrill was over the church leadership’s call for a communal structure, which included church leaders being paid for work other than preaching. The communal structure was, Winn notes, allegedly voluntary, although pressure was exercised on members to contribute. “In any event,” Winn writes, “Corrill deeply disapproved of the revelation and readily shared his opinion with others.”

Despite his church status, Corrill worked without success in the Missouri legislature to push Mormon interests and even donated $2,000 of his own money to help the beleaguered saints. By the time his term ended, most of his constituency had fled the area. Ridgon’s rhetoric, and the Danites’ actions, had led to militias overwhelming the church and Smith, Rigdon and others being jailed. Corrill, now without a church and due to be excommunicated in early 1839, left his religion. He wrote a book, “A Brief History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” in late 1839. It is an interesting read for its historical value. At the time though, it sold poorly and Corrill spent the last few years of his life in poverty. He died in 1842, leaving an estate of only $265.86. As Winn writes, “His integrity and basic decency were overshadowed by charges that he had betrayed the prophet and the church.” 

Corrill did offer testimony against Smith to Missouri court hostile to the Mormons. Richard Lyman Bushman, in his 2005 biography of Joseph Smith,also describes Corrill as a “the steady, clear-headed Missouri leader” who conflicted over how much free will he had to surrender to stay a faithful Mormon, and witnessing defeat after defeat, finally decided he had been deceived..

-- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardNet

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.

Spiritual comfort food from the latest LDS conference, from 2010

    

I wrote this piece almost 13 years ago for the now-defunct StandardBlogs and rescued it from Wayback. I found it interesting, still agree with most, although I was likely wrong that the good Elder Bednar will become the prophet. -- Doug Gibson

Since I returned from my mission; and that was 25-plus years ago, I’ve thought of LDS General Conference as LDS comfort food — far less fatty than Oreos, but often not much more nutritious than a rice cake. I figured out a long time ago — and I think the conference speakers would agree — that ultimately it’s up to me to figure out what’s best for myself, and along with my wife, what’s best for her, us, and the kids.

Let’s face it: the latest very heartfelt account from President Thomas S. Monson about someone who died tragically leaving a great testimony can provide a big dose of spiritual Jolt, but it wears off after a few hours.

These years, at conference time, I listen for talks on how to raise kids so that they’ll still want to go to church at that time near or at adulthood when my advice won’t mean as much to them. Elder L. Tom Perry and Elder David A. Bednar provided some good advice. The former stressed the need to make sure that the Gospel is taught in home as much as church. Elder Bednar, who I believe will be the prophet in my children’s formative adult years, reminds parents that if they want their beliefs to stick with their kids, they have to bear witness constantly of them. Of course, even then we may have to accept that a child will follow a different path. In the working draft of a biography of Spencer W. Kimball, “Lengthen Your Stride,” a small portion of the book reveals the late prophet’s anguish over his son, Spence, deciding Mormonism was not for him. I fear that anguish.

I was impressed with a pair of talks that President Dieter F. Uchtdorf gave. At the Priesthood session, he provided an excellent lesson on the difference between “patience” and “endurance.” The former is an active part of achieving a goal or perfection. It’s a virtue and something godly. That leads to a lesson: As God is patient with us, we should be patient with others, as well as with ourselves. It’s sad to think of how many people spoil their potential, either in a secular or religious sense — because they give up on themselves.

President Uchtdorf also offered excellent counsel on Sunday morning. He urged against pride and said that we should look beyond what may offend us personally and show the same tolerance and love that Christ shows for all of us. Condescension, or talking down to another person, is also not Christ-like. The irony, Uchtdorf explained, is that extending acceptance and love to others strengthens and refines our spirits.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, who headed BYU when I went there (I once met him as part of the Daily Universe editorial team) gave a strong attack on pornography and offered suggestions to combat it, such as talking to a bishop, prayer, the Church Web site. I don’t necessarily disagree — I think pornography is far more dangerous than many think. It destroys intimacy in relationships, objectifies the opposite sex, among other problems … — but I sometimes wonder about the practicality of “prevention” advice given to people who have healthy attitudes about sex but are struggling with normal urges in regards to sex.

When I was a young teen, a well-meaning adult member of the church told me that masturbation would lead to excommunication. For years I assumed that would be the penalty for what I occasionally engaged in. The guilt I felt was both overwhelming and a waste of energy. I have a young son and there is absolutely no way I am going to put him through that same kind of guilt trip. Instead, he’ll learn in several years that although dad and mom want to keep an eye on his reading and watching material, there are some things that we’ll take in stride.

And despite what he may hear from others, that is not a sin at this stage in his life.

Anthology offers the best of Mormon literature in 2009

 

I absolutely loved this anthology of Mormon literature in 2009, and since if you look hard and are patient, you can find a reasonably priced copy. There is one for $9.07 on Amazon but ignore the ridiculously priced offerings there and on other sales sites. Originally published at defunct StandardBlogs, I saved it from Wayback. Darin Cozzens, James Goldberg, and Lisa Torcasso Downing were among authors whose work I admired.

It’s not difficult to find good Mormon literature, but to find the best Mormon literature is more difficult. As my friend Cal Grondahl might put it, there’s fuzzy bear stories and grizzly bear stories. Fuzzy bear stories, that make us feel cuddly, sometimes with a “Charly”-inspired tear, are easy to find. Grizzly bear stories, which explore themes that aren’t wrapped with a nice bow tie in the final paragraphs — which feature survivors rather than conquerors — well, that kind of LDS literature is harder to find.

You have to search for pricy publications, with names such as Irreantum, or Sunstone, or The New Play Project, Segullah, BYU Studies, Iowa Review, etc. It’s a tiny audience, but the search is rewarding. Fortunately, Curelom Books, Salt Lake City, has published “The Best of Mormonism 2009,” which offers a diverse selection of quality Mormon-themed efforts.

It’s a too-thin volume at 163 pages. I read it all on a Sunday afternoon. My favorite selection was the short story, “Reap in Mercy,” by Darin Cozzens, first published in Irreantum. It’s a tale of a retired LDS farmer, alone with his wife, bitter that he didn’t prosper in life while a neighbor he once had to constantly help later prospered. It’s a reminder to believers that God does not promise material wealth as a reward for obedience. It also reminds us that true redemption can take place in the least likely times.

I also enjoyed the one-act play, “Prodigal Son,” by James Goldberg (The New Play Project), an interesting tale where a young man breaks his father’s heart … by becoming a Mormon and going on a mission. That’s probably more common that most of the readers might think.

In Sunstone’s “Clothing Esther,” Lisa Torcasso Downing brings us into a mortuary where a middle-aged mom and wife puts the LDS garments on her mother-in-law. It’s an emotionally powerful recounting of something that is certainly not uncommon practice among Latter-day Saints, but rarely spoken of.

A couple more kudos go to “Who do you think you are?” a selection from Angela Hallstrom’s “Bound on Earth.” In it, a young teen admirer learns that the subject of admiration, and crush, a young teacher, is not always the same person he is in the classroom. And in “He Who Owe Everything to a name,” Lynda Mackey Wilson, writing in BYU Studies, pays tribute to the man who loved her more than her own mother.

I hope people will buy this anthology. It will more than pay for itself in enjoyment. And then buy the journals listed by the stories.

-- Doug Gibson

Recognizing ignorant theology, from Nov. 18, 2012

 

Wrote this nearly 10 years ago on SE blog. Rescued it from Wayback purgatory. I think the LDS Church has made very positive strides in encouraging doctrinal and historical discussion the past decade.

When I was at BYU, and was in a mandated religion class, we had a teacher, somewhere between 60 and 160, (I’ve long forgotten his name) who liked to stray beyond the regular curriculum. During one diversion, he strayed into apostasy from the LDS Church. It was his personal, confidently stated opinion that every single case of apostasy derived from  a sin of morality committed by the apostate.

Even then, roughly 25 years ago, I knew what the teacher said was nonsense. And I did what I always do when I hear some ridiculous doctrine stated from the lectern or the pulpit. I recognize it as foolishness and go on with my faith, which is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

You hear a lot of folk doctrine in the Mormon faith, despite the bureaucracy’s best efforts to stifle it. Whether it’s the White Horse Doctrine, the ubiquitous Three Nephites, the mandate against white sugar or the Mormon version of The Rapture, you get used to it.

Nearly all folk theology is relatively harmless if you just recognize it as such. Folk theology often thrives on the doctrine of straining against the gnats. Once I was advised that if I don’t memorize everything I’ve been instructed to say in an LDS temple ceremony, then I’ve got things to worry about in the hereafter. Nevertheless, I’m still indebted to those good senior temple volunteers who bail me out when I do an endowment.

Sometimes, ignorant theology can be harmful. Denunciations of teens who masturbate is more harmful than helpful. However, like many LDS deacons, I grew up reading “the factory book” where we were advised not to sinfully start the engine. However, that experience at least taught me what not to do now that I’m a parent.

Recently, another, ignorant theology reared its head again. A speaker grimly warned our ward congregation against “inappropriate intellectualism.” It’s a delightfully Orwellian phrase that derived  from an April 1989 General Conference discourse from Glen L. Pace, Second Counselor in the Presiding Bishopric, called “Follow the Prophet.” (Read) In the meat of the talk, Pace expresses concern about members who study the Gospel in order, as he puts it, to discover new uncertainties:

“One activity which often leads a member to be critical is engaging in inappropriate intellectualism. While it would seem the search for and discovery of truth should be the goal of all Latter-day Saints, it appears some get more satisfaction from trying to discover new uncertainties. I have friends who have literally spent their lives, thus far, trying to nail down every single intellectual loose end rather than accepting the witness of the Spirit and getting on with it. In so doing, they are depriving themselves of a gold mine of beautiful truths which cannot be tapped by the mind alone.”

Later in the discourse, Pace argues that if members are allowed to adhere to a church but only agree with some of its teachings, then that church will deteriorate:

“There are some of our members who practice selective obedience. A prophet is not one who displays a smorgasbord of truth from which we are free to pick and choose. However, some members become critical and suggest the prophet should change the menu. A prophet doesn’t take a poll to see which way the wind of public opinion is blowing. He reveals the will of the Lord to us. The world is full of deteriorating churches who have succumbed to public opinion and have become more dedicated to tickling the ears of their members than obeying the laws of God.”

Frankly, there’s really nothing Pace said that hasn’t been said many times by LDS Church leaders. The talk has gained notoriety, or admiration — depending on the reviewer — based on the unfortunate term “inappropriate intellectualism,” a phrase that makes me cringe in embarrassment. It didn’t help matters that a few years after Pace’s remarks, several LDS scholars were excommunicated from the Church due to published works which displeased church leaders. To some church critics, Pace’s remarks seem more like a warning to a few than counsel to many.

I don’t see it that way. Those excommunications of a generation ago were regrettable, and I hope those still excommunicated one day have their memberships restored, if they still wish it. In my opinion, fear of the growth of independent study of the LDS Church, due in part to the emergence of the Internet, played a part in the disciplinary action. Pace’s talk merely created a two-word cliche to criticize legitimate, important independent LDS scholarship.

However, due to Pace’s otherwise meat-and-potatoes  LDS conference talk, the term “inappropriate intellectualism” is a member in good standing of ignorant theology in the Mormon Church, used most often to criticize the admirable goal of learning more about one’s faith to better understand its history and culture.

Review: Harold B. Lee: Life and Thought

 

Review by Doug Gibson

Harold B. Lee: Life and Thought, by Newell G. Bringhurst, Signature Books, 2022, provided a lot of information about a prophet of my lifetime who I admit I didn't know much about. Lee was president only slightly more than a year. He ushered in the long, and more popularly significent tenure of Spencer W. Kimball. 

But as author Bringhurst (who penned a biography of Fawn Brodie) notes, Lee had a tremendous effect on how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints moved its way though the 20th century. To note his two major accomplishments, he essentially created the LDS welfare system, and he was the driving force behind church teaching correlation, which more or less is still with us today.

And Lee was so dedicated to his church callings that it's not an exaggeration to say he literally worked himself to death.

Lee, an Idaho native, was both a school teacher and adminstrator in his teens. He quickly gained notice for his skills while a missionary between 1920 and 1922. He married a former sister missionary, Fern Lucinda Tanner, and they raised two girls. Lee was something of a prodigy. Moving out of education, he flourished as a businessman and then a member of the Salt Lake Commission. He became the church's youngest stake president in 1930.

As President of the Pioneer Stake, Lee was noted for his church welfare/Bishop's Storehouse efforts, which were eventually adopted churchwide. Lee shared the general church leadership's sentiments that it was wrong for church members to be dependent on government. Lee eventually was named of the church's entire welfare system.

I get the impression from reading Bringhurst's book that Lee was esteemed enough -- overall -- to have been elected governor of Utah or as a U.S. senator. But his heart was with his church. By 1941 he was called as an apostle and quickly was called to a correlation committee. This proved to be a roughly two-decade project that eventually bore Lee's imprint. As Bringhurst notes, it was a struggle by Lee to rein in the independence many church auxiliaries had. They had enjoyed large budgets and even relative theological independence. 

Lee's skill as an economical money cruncher was also valued, as he worked hard to reduce church debts and move the church toward economic security. These two tasks -- correlation and budget-crunching -- required a leader who could say "no" easily and deal with colleagues' hurt feelings and dashed hopes. 

This is a 156-page biography. I have yet to read more detailed biographies of Lee, that may capture a more familial, softer side. What I gain from the book is a detailed look at a very talented, intelligent church leader who finessed his way through a large bureacracy. He was championed by fellow apostle J. Reuben Clark, who Bringhurst notes was a father figure. Lee's own father had been a bishop disciplined for misusing tithing donations, and there future relationship was strained.

It's very interesting to read about Lee's relationships among his church peers, including David O'McKay, Spencer W. Kimball, and Hugh B. Brown, among others. Lee is best described as an orthodox, mainstream Mormon leader of his times. He strongly embraced the church's incorrect codification of its priesthood ban on blacks, and also incorrectly opposed interracial marriages. He strongly opposed more liberal colleague Hugh B. Brown's public attempts to end the priesthood ban. However, Bringhurst does note that Lee believed the ban would someday be lifted.

Lee was a conservative adminstrator of church interests and was very good at it. Like Gordon B. Hinckley, he was heavily involved in caretaking church affairs before he actually became the prophet. He wrote a lot on church doctrine, including an essay called "The Iron Rod," which as Bringhurst notes, "emphasized obedience." In another essay he decried a society of "black called white and white called black, and sin called good and good called sin." He certainly was an influence for later church leaders such as Hinckley, Thomas S. Monson, and Boyd K. Packer.

A larger biography may have told us more details of his family life. Fern suffered poor health after the birth of two daughters. Soon after she died in 1962, Lee married an age-appropriate second wife, Freda Joan Jenson, who survived him until 1981. I can't get a complete feel of either marriage from the brief biography, other than Bringhurst's note that Fern, 27 to Harold's 24, "possessed a sophistication that Lee lacked." 

As a result, she was a valuable companion as he moved upward. She influenced her husband greatly, particularly in "convincing her husband to change careers." Teaching was low-paying for the Lees, and Harold had several extra jobs while a teacher, including as a watchman for Union Pacific, and as a grocery clerk with ZCMI. Harold eventually began a life of business prosperity as a salesman with Foundation Press, which sold upscale, illustrated stories from the Bible.

I've mentioned Lee was a workaholic. His health started to ebb later in his life and he suffered periodic illnesses. He mostly refused to take breaks or even ease up, though, and was constantly on the go as church president, a role he assumed on July 7, 1972. On Dec. 26, 1973, Lee, 74, woke up feeling very tired despite sleeping 10 hours. His heart was failing, and oxygen did not help. He was dead by 9 p.m., "six hours after his admission to the hospital," writes Bringhurst.

This is an excellent read from a fine writer/historian. The value of learning more about the life of Lee, and other LDS leaders during the 20th century, is that it provides a chart of the evolution of mores, politics, procedures, customs, stances and beliefs within the LDS Church. Lee was an integral part of that history.

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

 

Review by Doug Gibson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what exactly is a Son of Perdition?

We Mormons have a name for hell — it’s called Sons of Perdition. We’re pretty confident that Satan, Cain and Judas will be residents there, but after that things get a little hazy. Frankly, we’re not even sure what it’s going to be like, other than God and his minions have no plans to visit. 

We’re not even sure if there are “daughters of perdition” out there in outer darkness. That makes sense because no one wants a Son of Perdition to be able to place his hands on a daughter of any kind. To be honest, we have long been encouraged to not dwell too much on the Sons of Perdition. Instead, as the song goes, we should accentuate the positive, and focus on the greatness of the Celestial Kingdom and happiness.

But I can’t help myself. The case of evangelical pastor Chad Holtz losing his post because he no longer believed that a loving Heavenly Father would burn his children forever and ever reignited my interest in where Old Scratch resides. Frankly, the idea that God would subject his children to a punishment a million times more physically painful than Christ suffered — and let’s face it; lots of people were crucified; that’s no big deal, in the eternal sense — seems to be a doctrine that comes from old Satan himself. The doctrine of sinners in the hands of an angry God ought to go the way of infant damnation. I personally like C.S. Lewis’ definition of hell — detailed in the novella The Great Divorce — where “hell” is where we most feel comfortable in the afterlife.

But back to the Latter-day Saints and Perdition: Standard-Examiner blogger Ryan Jenkins once posted an excellent piece detailing Mormon beliefs on punishment and reward, and God being a deity of salvation, rather than damnation, but we still don’t get an idea of exactly who is ending up there. To be a “Son of Perdition” is to deny the Holy Ghost, but even that creates more questions, as does this quote from the Prophet Joseph Smith: 

"What must a man do to commit the unpardonable sin? He must receive the Holy Ghost, have the heavens opened unto him, and know God, and then sin against Him. After a man has sinned against the Holy Ghost, there is no repentance for him. He has got to say that the sun does not shine while he sees it; he has got to deny Jesus Christ when the heavens have been opened unto him, and to deny the plan of salvation with his eyes open to the truth of it; and from that time he begins to be an enemy." (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith [1976], 358).

If you read Doctrine and Covenants, Section 76, verses 32 through 38, the sufferings of the Sons of Perdition rival the sufferings of the damned in that bizarre Christian novel action “Left Behind” series. “Lakes of fire” and “better for them never to have been born” fill the verses. But the real puzzler — at least to me — is verse 35, which reads that to be a Son of Perdition involves “Having denied the Holy Spirit after having received it, and having denied the Only Begotten Son of the Father, having crucified him unto themselves and put him to an open shame."

That seems to indicate that a Son of Perdition needs to have accepted Christ as his savior, then rejected that belief and done everything to lead others away from Christ. That “Mormon” definition of qualifying for hell seems to jibe with many other Christian beliefs. But what about those evil people who never accepted Christ in the first place? Is a person who was born in the Amazon jungle 500 years ago and enjoyed raping and murdering for sport exempt from hell, or Sons of Perdition because he never had a chance to embrace Christ?

Or, as I’ve heard many LDS brothers and sisters tell me in my lifetime, is the Sons of Perdition reserved for LDS apostates who fight against “the church?” How do they end up in Perdition and that creep I saw profiled on Cable TV on the crime documentary channel escape the “Mormon hell?”

I’m tying myself into the0logical knots here trying to grasp understanding of a concept I admit I don’t understand. But I doubt that makes me unusual. I wonder if LDS Church leaders fully understand Perdition and what it is. And what about the Left Behind crowd or those nitwits who dismiss pastors for believing in a God who doesn’t torture?

Personally, I believe God will be a heck of a lot more merciful than most of us think, but I can’t say that definitively. 

Perhaps the more intriguing question is, why do so many followers of the peaceful Christ buy the allegorical descriptions of a burning, torture-dungeon hell? And what are the motives of those who preach of, advocate, or wish for such a hell or Perdition?

-- Originally published in 2011.

-- Doug Gibson

All those Mormons who think R-rated films are taboo are wrong

 

Originally posted in 2009 at StandardBlogs

A couple of years ago my oldest daughter’s accelerated fifth-grade class viewed a film version of the well-regarded novel, “The Devil’s Arithmetic,” which involves a contemporary girl being thrust back in time into the horror of the Holocaust. I was thrilled she had a teacher motivated enough to teach her and others about the Holocaust. Unfortunately, some parents of other students in the class protested and initiated a crusade against the teacher, who was more or less suspended for several days. The parents were enabled by milquetoast district administrators who in my opinion mostly took their embarrassing side. What’s most interesting is that a key argument against the teacher was that she had shown an “R” rated movie. She hadn’t, of course. “The Devil’s Arithmetic” is a TV movie. When I informed an involved party that the film was not R-rated, he seemed very surprised. It was clear the non-existent “R” rating was a big deal.

OK, had an R-rated film been shown to fifth-graders, that would have been a big deal. The irony, though, is among much of the Mormon culture, an R-rated film about the Holocaust would not be tolerated for any ages — are we thinking “Schindler’s List” here? What about the crucifixion? “The Passion of the Christ” is a powerful, well-acted, deeply moving film. Trust me, it’s a much better, more spiritual, more faith-promoting film than the good-hearted “The Testaments.” But I know of an LDS ecclesiastical leader who told his congregation to not see the movie because it was R-rated. I have tried to convince friends who are, like myself, faithful members of the LDS church to see “The Passion of the Christ.” Some have looked at me like I’m the devil trying to tempt Christ to break his fast.

There are many R-rating spurners who are sincere, and avoid all films that cross a moral and personal line that they have set for themselves. I respect that. However, just about every week there are released into theaters PG or PG-13 rated comedy or light drama films with characters and events that are specifically sexual in nature and cast fornication or adultery in a positive light. Many of these films — “The Devil Wears Prada,” “Broadcast News,” “Mamma Mia” — are well-acted, well-produced films. I certainly won’t condemn anyone who enjoys spending two hours escaping real-life watching the films. Those three films, in fact, are among my favorites. My point is that 99 percent of my LDS friends who object to “The Passion of the Christ” don’t object to the PG-13 film at the cineplex; in fact, most have probably watched it.

Look, life is R-rated, and while I admit there’s little of R-rated life I’d want to see on the screen there are subjects, historical, religious or personal, that need an R rating to be effectively told. I know they covered deep subjects well in tame films generations ago, but we were a tamer society then. We laud old films such as “The Good Earth” and “Elmer Gantry” as classics but don’t realize until we read the novels that all the R-rated parts were taken out. A high priest in a former ward once scoffed at my respect for “The Godfather” films. “Edward G. Robinson did it better than Al Pacino, and you can take the family to see the film,” was what he more or less said. Well, I’m a big admirer of Robinson’s sneer, but “The Godfather” is a superb parable of capitalism run amok. It may be the greatest epic tale told on the screen. I’m glad I was able to introduce the trilogy to my wife, who loved the films.

In the past 20-plus years, a myth has grown within the LDS church that members are not supposed to watch any R-rated movies. It’s nonsense. It stems from a speech given by the late prophet Ezra Taft Benson, who advised LDS teenagers to avoid R-rated films. Writer Orson Scott Card, while defending “The Passion of the Christ” in a column, recounted what President Benson actually said: “We counsel you, young men, not to pollute your minds with such degrading matter, for the mind through which this filth passes is never the same afterwards. Don’t see R-rated movies or vulgar videos or participate in any entertainment that is immoral, suggestive, or pornographic. Don’t listen to music that is degrading.” (Ensign, May 1986, p 43)

That makes perfect sense for the youth of the LDS church. They should avoid films such as “Porky’s.” And most R-rated films are not meant for children. But, as Card points out, there is nothing about “The Passion of the Christ” that fits what Benson was warning youth about. Clearly, “immoral, suggestive, or pornographic” entertainment is what we are warned against, not R-rated films.

I don’t expect the myth of R-rated films to ever really go away. I know a family member who promised Heavenly Father a long time ago that she would stop watching R-rated movies. I’m sure He appreciates the gesture, although He’s probably a fan of “Braveheart.”

-- Doug Gibson