Cache County’s Thatcher was an apostle who was dropped from the quorum

Nineteenth century Mormon apostle Moses Thatcher (above) is buried in the Logan City Cemetery. His death in 1909 at age 67 was national news. The prominent businessman, polygamist and politician never lost his fame, but he was famously smacked in a very public battle he waged with the LDS Church’s hierarchy in the mid 1890s.

In the Spring 1998 issue of Journal of Mormon History, Cache County LDS historian Kenneth W. Godfrey has a fascinating 35-page account of Thatcher’s battle with the LDS Church and his expulsion from the Quorum of the 12 Apostles. Intermixed in the drama is the war of words that was waged between the two competing newspapers in Utah; the anti-Mormon Salt Lake Tribune, which championed Thatcher, and the church’s Deseret News, which criticized him.

However, Moses Thatcher was no apostate, even if he did come within a hair of being excommunicated from the LDS Church for failure to sustain a “Political Manifesto” from church leaders. The manifesto required church leaders to seek ecclesiastical OK prior to accepting an outside calling or seeking political office. Thatcher was a Democrat, which put him in conflict with many church leaders.

For a very long time, Thatcher, in a very public manner, refused to sustain the manifesto. His argument was that he feared average church leaders would be prohibited from political activism, which he considered, correctly if interpreted it as such, as church dictating to state.

Thatcher wasn’t alone in his initial concerns. For a while fellow church leader B. H. Roberts supported him. Eventually, however, Thatcher became the solo nay vote on this among church leaders, and gradually he became a constant subject of criticism from President Wilfred Woodruff and others. However, church leaders, mindful of Thatcher’s status as an apostle, were quite patient with him, giving him lots of time to recuperate from a chronic bowel illness, and lots of time to reconsider his position. They tried, to no avail, to convince Thatcher that the manifesto would not restrict speech.

On Thursday, Nov. 19, 1896, Thatcher missed his last opportunity to meet with the church hierarchy and explain his position. At the meeting, he was dropped from the quorum and relieved of all priesthood responsibilities. The Salt Lake Tribune featured the news with a huge headline, “Deposed.” The Deseret News editorialized, “The leaven has been working for a long, long time and for well nigh half a score years this same result might have been feared,” records Godfrey.

After being dropped, recounts Godfrey, a still defiant Thatcher almost was elected — by the Democratic-controlled Utah State Senate — to the U.S. Senate. He was a frontrunner for the Democratic nomination, but was nosed out by Democrat Joseph L. Rawlins.

What killed Thatcher’s campaign was B.H. Roberts’ publicly opposing his candidacy. It was a clear indicator to the Cache County leader that losing the church approbation had secular consequences.

In August of 1897, Thatcher faced a church court that would determine whether he would remain a member of the LDS Church. At that time, Thatcher suddenly capitulated and recanted his previous opposition and criticisms. In fact, he admitted guilt to eight specific offenses and admitted “that he has obtained light wherein he was in the dark …”

Godfrey offers various ideas for what might have changed Thatcher’s ideas. One is that after the heat of the campaign, he could “reflect deeply and broadly” about the past events. Another was that the ostracism of the past 18 months since being dropped from the quorum was a reality he had a tough time dealing with.

The reason that seems most likely is that Thatcher was no longer ill. In the years prior and time of his dispute with the LDS Church leaders, Thatcher had suffered intensely from his bowel troubles. He had been addicted to morphine and treated for the pain as well as the tension associated with such, it’s very possible Thatcher was not thinking clearly.

There’s no doubt that church leaders were relieved that a prominent fellow member was back in the fold. As Godfrey puts it, “In short, when faced with being severed completely from Mormonism, a movement for which he had sacrificed so much, Thatcher finally chose church over state.”

For the rest of his life, Thatcher, who remained wealthy, was a partisan Democrat, In 1900, at Brigham Young College, he lectured in favor of socialism, recounts Godfrey.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Oliver Cowdery’s ‘Article on Marriage’ embarrassed the LDS Church in its polygamy heyday

During its first several decades, LDS Church leaders included an “Article on Marriage” in the faith’s Doctrine and Covenants. Penned by early church leader Oliver Cowdery, it stated, in part, “Inasmuch as this church of Christ has been reproached with the crime of fornication, and polygamy: we declare that we believe, that one man should have one wife; and one woman, but one husband, except in case of death, when either is at liberty to marry again.”

It sounds pretty simple, albeit a bit clumsy in the wording. Some have surmised that the slight difference in the words “man should have one wife; and one woman, but one husband.” kind of leaves an out for a man to have many “one wife-es” but for a woman, “but one husband.” But that’s all speculation.

For more than two generations, Cowdery’s Article on Marriage was entrenched as part of the Doctrine and Covenants, although not considered a revelation. However, its inclusion turned into a public relations embarrassment for the LDS Church after it publicly embraced polygamy. After sons of Emma Smith, and others traveled to Utah, they used the Cowdery Article on Marriage as evidence that polygamy was an invention of Brigham Young, and not Joseph Smith. ( It seems quaint now to contemplate that 140 years ago missionaries from the RLDS Church were energetically denying that Joseph Smith was a polygamist.)

LDS Church leaders finally eliminated the Cowdery Article on Marriage from the Doctrine and Covenants — it was Section 101 and Section 109 in distinct editions — and Section 132 became the church’s theological defense of polygamy. Church leaders, who were at that time claiming that Smith had first mentioned polygamy as far back as 1832, also took a long-delayed swipe at Cowdery, claiming that he had abused confidence imposed on him by Joseph Smith by having the Article on Marriage inserted into the Doctrine and Covenants without Smith’s approval.

Here’s an example of the let’s-blame-Cowdery explanation from Joseph F. Smith in 1878:

“To put this matter more correctly before you, I here declare that the principle of plural marriage was not first revealed on the 12th day of July, 1843. It was written for the first time on that date, but it had been revealed to the Prophet many years before that, perhaps as early as 1832. About this time, or subsequently, Joseph, the Prophet, intrusted this fact to Oliver Cowdery; he abused the confidence imposed in him, and brought reproach upon himself, and thereby upon the church by ‘running before he was sent,’ and ‘taking liberties without license,’ so to speak, hence the publication, by O. Cowdery, about this time, of an article on marriage, which was carefully worded, and afterwards found its way into the Doctrine and Covenants without authority. This article explains itself to those who understand the facts, and is an indisputable evidence of the early existence of the knowledge of the principle of patriarchal marriage by the Prophet Joseph, and also by Oliver Cowdery.”

Cowdery was an easy target, having been dead for more than 25 years. He was excommunicated by church leaders in the late 1830s, largely as a result of the church’s internal dissent following a failed financial institution in Kirtland, Ohio. Cowdery, at the time, also criticized Joseph Smith’s relationship with Fanny Alger, a teen servant girl who is assumed to have been Smith’s first plural wife. That relationship failed once Emma Smith, Joseph’s wife, ended it.

It’s tempting to regard the 1835 Article on Marriage as a response to the Smith, Alger failed relationship, but that’s likely not true. Brian C. Hales, an excellent historian (his books on LDS polygamy are a must-read), has looked as several potential scenarios for what prompted the Article on Marriage. Reactions to Joseph’s sexual behavior, or even Oliver’s, as a catalyst to the Article on Marriage’s inclusion, don’t stand up well to historical scrutiny. Hales writes that the Marriage Article “instead was designed to establish that Christian monogamy was a law they had already established and that infractions of this law were seriously disciplined.”

Under this theory, the early Mormons’ theology of having “all things in common,” was interpreted by gossips or enemies as evidence that the Mormons practiced “free love,” such as sharing of spouses.  That needed to be stopped. Hales quotes John L. Brooke, a chronicler of folk manifestations in early 19th century America, who wrote: “Among the non-Mormons in Ohio there were suspicions that the community of property dictated in the ‘Law of Consecration’ included wives.”

So after all is said and done, the 1870s controversy over the Article of Marriage seems more public relations than a defense for or against polygamy. After Smith’s failed effort with Alger, the prophet was publicly silent on polygamy for several years. The 1835 Article on Marriage seems to be simply a reaffirmation by the new religion of traditional beliefs on marriage and chastity, designed to quell rumors that the new church was immoral.

As mentioned, Oliver Cowdery became the scapegoat for the Marriage Article’s inclusion, a curious charge that fails to explain why the article remained as church scripture for 40-plus years. My supposition is, as mentioned, that church leaders saw its subject as clarifying the Law of Consecration, and not polygamy.

As for Cowdery, he was not a bitter apostate and in the early 1840s sporadic efforts to have him rebaptized began, championed chiefly by Phineas Young, brother to Brigham Young. Although those efforts were put on the back-burner while the church moved West, eventually, in 1848, Cowdery was rebaptized. Although he had made plans to move to Utah and was asked by Brigham Young to lobby for the church in Washington D.C., Cowdery’s health was declining rapidly as 1850 approached. He died on March 3, 1850, at the home of David Whitmer, in Richmond, Mo. He was only 43.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Morrisite War was a bloody little event in 1860s Top of Utah

In the small northern community of South Weber, Utah, a monument was erected to the Morrisite War, a small but deadly 1862 battle between a group of Mormon apostates and the territorial militia comprised of Mormons. The Morrisite War is no secret, but it’s faded to a footnote in history. Its irony can’t be disputed, however. Just as the upstart Latter-day Saints had received ire from the dominant religions of the East and Midwest two decades-plus earlier, an angry, Christ-seeking offshoot of Mormonism located in the heart of Utah got its fair share of retribution from an outraged dominant Mormon populace.

There is a Wikipedia page and a short history at the Utah History Encyclopedia from Cache County historian Kenneth Godfrey (read), but an entertaining, if not complete, account of the Morrisite War is offered by Josiah Francis Gibbs in his 1909 book, “Lights and Shadows of Mormonism,” and available at Google Books. As Gibbs recounts, a Welsh convert to the LDS Church, Joseph Morris, grew frustrated that Mormon leader Brigham Young, who published only a few revelations, “placed more reliance on the guidance of his own active brains than on the indefinite, intangible, and uncertain ‘impressions’ on one’s mind, called revelations.” Therefore, Morris decided he was a prophet, failed to recruit Young to his cause, but did manage to convince a group of Saints on the Weber River “of the divinity of his, Morris’, mission.” He and others were soon excommunicated and forbidden from trading with nearby Mormon neighbors.

A problem soon developed with the prophet “Joe Morris.” It’s a common thorn for those who claim divine insider information — Morris was frequently wrong. On several occasions Morris left his flock disappointed when his claims on when exactly Christ would return went unfulfilled. Not surprisingly, these failed revelations winnowed the flock some.

Because the Morrisites pooled their resources, those leaving often squabbled with the faithful over how much they were allowed to reclaim. Also, the Morrisites put more faith in their leader’s revelations than food storage. Gibbs writes, “As the date for the arrival of the Saviour drew near, the Morrisites ceased all unnecessary labor, and devoted their time to public worship.”

With supplies low and hunger becoming a real problem, three Morrisite apostates, William Jones, John Jensen, and Lars C. Geertsen, took more from the community pool than Morris and his followers thought was fair. The Morrisites intercepted them and took the trio prisoner. One, Geertsen, escaped. The others, due to the efforts of their wives, received a court order from Chief Justice John F. Kinney mandating their release. Morris ignored the writ and gathered his followers in a lean-to fort — that included a chapel/schoolhouse — to meet any force that opposed them.

They were not disappointed. As Gibbs writes, “A requisition was made on Governor John W. Dawson for the use of the militia to aid the marshal in serving the writ. General Robert T. Burton, a prominent Mormon, and subsequently bishop of the 15th ecclesiastical ward, Salt Lake City, commanded the posse.” One part of the 1,000-posse was a militia from Ogden.

Most of the posse made its way to South Weber. The 200 to 500 Morrisites burrowed down, confident that Christ would appear at any moment and vanquish their oppressors. But, again, Christ was busy. An initial bombardment from Burton’s posse wounded a girl, 15, and killed two women. Also in the initial attack, the only non-Morrisite casualty, 19-year-old posse member Jared Smith, was killed. For three days, Burton’s posse sporadically attacked the Morrisites, who quickly ran out of food, arms, warmth and faith. The Morrisites, writes Gibbs, finally “hoisted the white flag.”

Ordered to stack their remaining arms by Burton at the square near the fort/school/church, most Morrisites did this. However, the Prophet Morris and a few diehard followers, including women, chose that time to make a holy dash for the remaining weapons. As Gibbs writes, “Morris’ frenzied cry: ‘Follow me, and see the salvation of the Lord.’ was the signal for a rush for the stacked arms. Burton and his staff spurred their horses into the rushing crowd and when the smoke cleared away, Joseph Morris was dead — a martyr to his faith; (John) Banks was mortally wounded. A woman was also killed, said to have been shot by Burton because she upbraided him for shooting Morris, but which is almost incredible. Banks died the ensuing evening.”

That was the end of the Morrisites on the Weber River. The slain prophet’s followers were taken to Salt Lake City. Gibbs recounts, “The male Morrisite Saints were marched into Salt Lake City, and were about the most forlorn, mud-bespattered procession that ever tramped the earth — the wretched victims of maximum faith and minimum brains.”

There were repercussions to the bloody uprising. Eventually, seven Morrisites were convicted of second-degree murder and more than 65 convicted of resisting the posse. However, all were pardoned a few days after the trial. In another event — one that underscores the tensions of that era between Mormons and secular authorities — Burton was tried for the murder of one Morrisite woman, Isabella Bowman. He was acquitted.

History tells us that the Morrisites scattered after the South Weber war. Most ended up in Montana. The last remnants of Morris’ church died off 40-plus years ago. History buffs can see what is likely the last Morrisite chapel. It’s visible in Racetrack, Montana, on the west side of Interstate 90 south of Deer Lodge. Wikipedia has a picture.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Last years of LDS prophet Kimball’s life was an excruciating, fogged journey



I’ve written before on the excellent draft copy of “Lengthen Your Stride,” Ed Kimball’s fascinating look at the tenure of his father, Spencer W. Kimball, as president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The section, Decline and Death, 1981 — 1985, is very painful to read because it provides details of the slow but persistent decline of President Kimball’s health that eventually robbed him of his voice, eyesight, his hearing, use of his body, and sometimes his mind.

Spencer W. Kimball was the prophet of my youth, and I loved the man even though I never met him. It is excruciating to read how he suffered. Although the church might frown on this phrase, I regard Kimball as a reformer. He ended the ban on priesthood for blacks and he was largely responsible for the growth of the LDS Church in Latin America. Although this is only my opinion, I don’t think President Kimball would have approved of the blanket scapegoating for society’s ills of many Hispanic illegals in this country.

Kimball began to decline in the summer of 1981. During that time he felt prompted to call the apostle Gordon B. Hinckley as a new, third counselor to the First Presidency. The calling was the beginning of Hinckley’s becoming the leader of the LDS Church although he would not become prophet for more than a decade.

In “Lengthen Your Stride,” Kimball’s personal secretary, D. Arthur Haycock, recalled this episode as a time that Kimball’s mind and body was strengthened by the Lord. “immediately afterward … the fog descended again,” Ed Kimball writes. In September 1981, Kimball suffered a subdural hematoma. There was a long hospitalization, and afterwards Kimball and his wife, Camilla, lived permanently with assistance in the top floor of the Hotel Utah. One of the earliest frustrations for Kimball was his loss of speech. Ed Kimball writes, “Sometimes he could speak fluently, but at other times when he tried to say one word another word that made no sense would come out. He was aware of the problem, and the frustration was so cruel that he simply lapsed into silence.”

During these long four years, Kimball was never unaware of what had happened to him. Depressed by his inability to work, he wondered aloud why the Lord would not take him. His illnesses made him irritable at times, and he snapped at Camilla, who was his age and also beset with health problems. At the same time, he was miserable without her. She dealt with the occasional stress by crying in the bathroom.

March 9, 1982, He spent the day at BYU for the dedication of the Spencer W. Kimball Tower. It was a rare late appearance, Later that year, on his birthday, Kimball slumped into unconsciousness in his family chair. He could not be revived for hours. Some thought he was close to death, but several hours later he revived. Although unable to talk clearly, he surprised many by recalling what was being said while he was “out.”

By Christmas 1982, “Spencer’s sight had deteriorated to the point that he could only see outlines. … His hearing was failing fast. He could not rest, and seldom slept soundly for more than an hour, even at night …,” writes Ed Kimball. It was a long three years before Kimball finally died, but he still stubbornly attended at least one session of the final conferences of his long life. He was wheeled to temple meetings of the general authorities once or twice a month. “Even that small degree of activity cheered him,” writes Ed Kimball.

Kimball was capable of exercising his authority at times. He strongly criticized an essay in a book by Apostle Bruce R. McConkie, arguing that what McConkie recalled as not being accurate and requesting that it be changed.

In late 1983, he almost died from internal bleeding, but recovered well enough for this interaction with wife, Camilla. Ed Kimball writes, “Then to Camilla, (Kimball said) “What will we do when they’re all gone?”

“She said, “We’ll go to bed.” She gave him a kiss. He responded, “Did you do that on purpose?” “Yes I did. Did you like it?” “Oh yes, I do.”

At one point, Kimball inquired as to whether he should be released as church president, but the consensus among church leaders was no. General authorities generally avoided providing specific answers as to how Spencer W. Kimball was doing the last years of his life.

This is what makes Ed Kimball’s draft book so fascinating. Most of it did not make the final published edition of “Lengthen Your Stride.”

Kimball’s body gave out in November 1985. There had long been instructions not to make strenuous efforts to keep him alive. He was more than a great prophet. He was a leader who moved the LDS Church in a positive way in how it was looked at by the rest of the world. There were few men his equal.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published on StandardBlogs

Book of Laman an interesting take on Mormon scripture

Review by Doug Gibson

While reading "Book of Laman," (By Common Consent Press, 2017), author Mette Ivie Harrison's literary take on the LDS scripture, "The Book of Mormon," I kept thinking of Joan Osborne's song "What If God Was One of Us."

What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Tryin' to make his way home?

If God had a face what would it look like?
And would you want to see if, seeing meant
That you would have to believe in things like heaven
And in Jesus and the saints, and all the prophets?

I don't claim that this is the author's intended theme, but to me it's that Laman is like nearly every one of us. We're trying to believe; that's why we head to church once a week and read our Scriptures. But we often fight a losing battle with spirituality and godly enthusiasm when it's stacked against frustration, grief, resentment, anger, temptation, envy, disappointment, love and hate, and even justice. OK, you're saying Laman tried to commit murder and we don't. But would we never think of doing that if forced to leave a comfortable home to spend a generation in the desert?

And that's what Laman is dealing with in his book. With some literary license, Harrison paints a picture of the Jerusalem family of Lehi and Sariah as one saddled with a discredited, formerly drunk, over-zealous father who abandoned his sons and wife for a spell and is mocked for it. It's a dysfunctional family who is then commanded by its head to leave their home.

Laman is also jealous/annoyed at his supercilious yet supremely devout younger brother, Nephi. The relationship between the two, from Laman's perspective, is interesting. The elder brother does believe that the younger brother speaks for God, and is God's choice to lead the exodus. The problem is Laman, and Lemuel, just can't stand Nephi. Harrison's portrayal of Nephi is not flattering. It reminds of the ubiquitous overzealous, condescending, condemning missionary invariably met in our tours of spiritual duty. We know they're doing what they're supposed to be doing but can't they show a little humility?

"The Book of Laman" is not, as I anticipated, a satire or a polemic. It is a straightforward, at times even plodding retelling of the beginning of "The Book of Mormon." All the major early scenes are includes, up to the arrival to the Americas and the split between the families. It concludes with a very old Laman, mostly ignored and sometimes mocked, filled with regret.

Laman's life is a lot like our lives. He sins. He repents. He has spiritual experiences. He has dark moments of anger. He'd like to be a better person who pleases God more often.

Like "The Book of Mormon," some characters are not developed. Lemuel is a bit of a shadowy character, who becomes more menacing as the novel progresses. Lehi and Sariah, as they age become, perhaps appropriately, less relevant. A scene with Lehi offering final blessings to his children is, however, strongly written. It captures Laman's conflicting desires to follow Lehi's counsel despite his anger at his brother Nephi.

Besides the conflict between Laman and Nephi, the most interest relationship is between Laman and his wife, Naomi, who share a bond and deep love. They are true confidantes. Ironically, due to their deep connection, much of Laman's later aggressions against Nephi is supported, and even prodded, by Naomi, including the burning of a temple that prompts Nephi's faction to leave.

Near the end of the book, Laman, begging forgiveness of God, is rewarded with a vision of Christ's visit to his new land. Through a voice from heaven, his sins are forgiven him. Again, he's not much different from those of us who beg God's mercy, and ask that He forgive our sins. 

Is the nude scene appropriate in the Harry Potter 7 movie?

(I wrote this nine years ago, and Cal did the marvelous cartoon, when there was a decidedly minor furor over a "nude" scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1.)

OK, it’s not really a nude scene. It’s a little like Jane Fonda’s “Barbarella” dancing in that infuriating almost-nude scene from the cult classic. In the new film, “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1,” Ron Weasley (If you don’t know the story, sorry) is getting ready to destroy a Horcrux. The Horcrux gets inside Ron’s mind by exploiting his fears that Hermione Granger, whom he loves, really prefers his best friend, Harry Potter. In the scene, which is sort of faithful to the novel, after taunting Ron, the faux Harry and Hermione appear to embrace nude, although no “interesting” body parts are shown.

There has been a campaign against the “Harry Potter 7” scene locally; I saw a couple of letters in the LDS newspaper, The Deseret News, along the lines of “I’m making the choice not to support nudity by boycotting Harry Potter 7.” The story gained some steam when the Salt Lake Tribune’s Sean Means debunked the idea that the scene was of the R-rated type.

However, Chris Hicks of the Deseret News, followed with a column that addressed this question: Why exactly was a semi-nude scene inserted into the Harry Potter movie franchise, particularly since a majority of the movies’ fans are children, and was it artistically necessary. Hicks wondered if the scene is appropriate for children who were used to images of the trio — Harry, Ron and Hermione — as children and classmates.

It’s an honest question to ask. I have to admit that I glanced uncomfortably at my three children, two girls ages 13 and 9, and one boy, 5, during the scene. It is a sensual scene that ends with Ron overcoming his dark fantasies by destroying the Horcrux.

So, yes, I was a bit uneasy by the scene’s insertion when it occurred.
I have read all of the Harry Potter novels (several times) and I think I understand why the scene was included; and why it had author J.K. Rowling’s approval, since she exercises that right. The Harry Potter trio are no longer children; they are adults (in the wizarding world adulthood is reached at 17). They are fighting  for their lives and leaving girlfriends and boyfriends behind — perhaps forever — as they face real danger and their own fears. Indeed, Hermione is beaten and tortured savagely in the film, although it is not as brutal as the final Potter novel depicts her torment.

And that brings me to a final reason as to why the “nude” scene was inserted. In the novels, which have far more detail, characters, locations, and character maturity than the movies permit, the Harry Potter series ceases to be childrens’ literature after the third novel. Beginning with “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,” the books assume a more somber, adult feel; this correlates with the growing strength of Lord Voldemort and the slow collapse of the Ministry of Magic.

The fifth novel, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” handles Harry’s rough transition into maturity masterfully and all three of the main characters fall in love and experience a crushing, demoralizing loss in the sixth novel, “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.”

But these child-to-adult transitions are not as effective in the films, which have to cram several hundred pages into 150-minute, or shorter, films. The fifth film, “… Order of the Phoenix,” for example, is almost like a Cliffs Notes version of the 810-page novel.

That’s my take on why the “sexy” scene was included in “Harry Potter 7 part 1.” Overall, it was a marvelous adaptation. Producing two films for the final Harry Potter novel is more than just a ploy to make more money — it provides a richer, deeper adaptation of the finale of a timeless series for children and adults.

Mormon prophet Woodruff crossed the Rubicon often

“Things in Heaven and Earth,” Thomas Alexander’s exhaustive biography of Mormonism’s fourth prophet, Wilford Woodruff, provides justice to the early LDS leader, who tends to take a back seat to more colorful contemporaries, Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. Woodruff, however, was a transitional figure in Mormon history, one who created bridges that allowed the Utah church to defy chasms that separated it from the rest of the world. In fact, Woodruff made decisions that Smith and Young would have opposed, but were necessary for the young church to grow and prosper.

The massive business and ecclesiastical empire that is Mormonism today owes its 110-plus years of prominence to Woodruff, who made the tough calls needed to eventually turn Mormonism into a religion that garnered, even demanded, respect from what Woodruff and his peers once called “gentiles,” or non-Mormons.

Woodruff, an 1830s convert to the LDS Church, was as fierce a convert as Parley P. Pratt, Brigham Young, and others who survived the chaotic days prior to the Utah migration. He served missions, presided over missions, suffered poverty, persecution, dislocation, and allowed priesthood authority to dictate his acceptance of doctrines such as polygamy. Once in the Salt Lake Valley, Brigham Young preferred to keep Woodruff in Utah, and he took and active role in local church leadership for decades. He also served in the territorial legislature. Nominally a conservative Mormon, he often took an interest in education, the economy, the arts and literature.

Woodruff, fewer than two years younger than Smith, became church leader in his early 80s in 1889 after John Taylor died. Taylor had taken a small, liberal step forward by allowing some church business practices with non-Mormons. Woodruff was to move the pendulum further than anyone would imagine during his nine years as LDS leader. As Alexander writes, “He (Woodruff) marked the path which led the Latter-day Saints to come to terms with the separation of the temporal and spiritual and to acceptance and respectability; and he reclaimed and deepened the reservoir of spiritual water that nourished the Saints through trying times.”

Separating the temporal and spiritual was most evident in the Spanish-American War during Woodruff’s tenure. At its outset, apostle Brigham Young Jr. issued the established church line of urging young Utah men to avoid war and instead go on missions to preach peace. Woodruff overruled that sentiment, endorsing the idea of LDS men serving in the U.S. military. As Alexander writes, “… crossing an immense intellectual Rubicon, Woodruff subordinated the ideal of the kingdom of God to the ideal of loyalty to the United States….” That once-radical idea is now accepted norm in today’s church.

Earning respectability seemed a tough goal at the beginning of Woodruff’s tenure, with the church assets seized by the government and members, prominent or otherwise, constantly being hunted for polygamy charges. At the time, it was not an extreme position to argue that Mormons were not patriots of the U.S. government. And, privately at least, most Mormons would have agreed.

The Manifesto against polygamy is what Woodruff is most famous for. The revelation, vetted before it was announced, effectively ended the threat of the federal government taking the church’s assets. Woodruff had hoped the Manifesto would ease pressure on Mormon men with multiple marriages, but the threat of jail remained. In fact, Woodruff was basically pressured into assuring secular leaders that polygamy would completely cease. It did not, of course, but future marriages were no longer public.

Woodruff also paved the way for Utah to receive statehood in 1896. He did through encouraging business relationships outside of the church. In fact, during Woodruff’s tenure, one constant agenda on weekly LDS leadership meetings at the temple were the status of LDS church business alliances, such as the Bullion Beck Mining enterprise. These endeavors, as well as Woodruff’s embrace of the two main political parties in the U.S., Republicans and Democrats, would cause a lot of friction within the quorum — one apostle, Moses Thatcher, was booted out of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles due to political fights — but it again provided an entry for the LDS Church into the corridors of economic and political power in the secular world.

The advantages of these decisions helped the LDS church leadership, and many of its businesses, during a severe national economic panic in the early 1890s. Despite capital essentially being closed to borrowers, the church was able to obtain a much-needed loan from a New York firm. These temporal moves were crucial to the church’s growth.

Alexander believes Woodruff learned how to compromise from witnessing the persecution the church suffered in Missouri and Illinois, and through his tenure of managing the British LDS mission. On doctrine he remained a conservative, although he ended the practice of saints being eternally adopted to church leaders in the temple.

Woodruff had little tolerance for those who questioned priesthood authority. He hounded out the Godbeites, a Utah dissident sect that snared an apostle, and later bullied the ill fellow apostle, Thatcher, out of his apostlehood after Thatcher objected, with good reason, to political meddling by the LDS leadership. In fact, Woodruff almost excommunicated Thatcher before the Cache County man, his spirit broken, apologized. Woodruff followed the early Saints mantra of handling misfortune — the death of numerous children, four divorces — with stoicism believing it all to be part of God’s plan. He was a remarkable, determined man, who built the path that Mormons trod today. Listen to an audio of an 1897 testimony, preserved on audio via YouTube.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs