Lost Apostles a fascinating look into the early years of the LDS Church

 

Signature has a Mormon history book, "The Lost Apostles: Forgotten Members of Mormonism's Original Quorum of Twelve," that provides a valuable look at the early years of Mormonism. Authors William Shepard and H. Michael Marquardt outline characteristics of the original apostles. They were mostly frontier men, chosen for their candor, stamina, independence, testimonies and personalities. These 12 were not administrators; they were young action-oriented men, sent out with virtually no assistance to study during the day, preach at night and try to baptize enough new members to form a small branch. If they were rejected, they left the "unbelievers" with a curse. If an apostle encountered a comely, unattached young woman, it was not uncommon for him to marry her, enjoy a quick honeymoon, and then go back to the mission, with a young wife waiting for his return.

The "Lost Apostles" are John Boynton, Lyman Johnson, his brother Luke Johnson, Thomas Marsh, the first president of the 12, William Smith, brother to the church's founder, and William McLellin. To those with at least an acquaintance of Mormon history, perhaps only Boynton and Lyman Johnson are historical strangers, no more than pictures in a church almanac. They are the two who managed to divorce themselves emotionally from Mormonism. Of the others, two -- Marsh and Luke Johnson -- returned to the now-Utah church, one, McLellin, skipped from Mormon offshoot to offshoot, never content, and William Smith, the legitimate rogue of the outfit, was finally allowed into the reorganized LDS church led by his nephew, ... so long as he behaved himself.

"Lost Apostles," is most interesting when it details the passions, strife, successes, setbacks, celebrations and violence that characterized Mormonism's growth in the 1830s, prior to the emigration to Nauvoo. As Joseph Smith moved the Mormons into the frontier, there were inevitable clashes between the unified newcomers and the older settlers, who didn't cotton to a large new voting bloc roiling the land. A lack of tact and propensity toward violence from both sides inevitably led to outnumbered Mormons being forced out. These exoduses were conducted under duress, in dangerous situations, and innocents died. Although the apostles were supposed to be separate from administrative duties, in reality they were not. They were often caught in the conflicts, internal and external, that roiled Mormonism.

What led most of the "lost apostles" from Mormonism was the 1838-1839 years in Ohio and Missouri. Besides the increasing violence, which became deadly, church leaders made the common mistake of wanting to get rich quick. They started an "anti-bank," due to not being able to get a charter, and created their own money (this could be done 180 years ago). During a brief real estate bubble, investors imagined themselves rich. The bubble broke, sellers and investors wanted their money, and the "currency" of the financial institution became worthless. As the authors detail, there's nothing like disputes over money to destroy harmony. Boynton, the Johnson brothers, McLellin, and later Marsh, left the church during this period. Other prominent church leaders who left were Oliver Cowdery, Martin Harris and David Whitmer. Others who came close to long-time estrangement include apostles Parley P. Pratt, his brother Orson Pratt, and Orson Hyde. William Smith, a product of nepotism, clung to the quorum due to his familial relationship. However, after Joseph Smith was murdered in 1844, his thuggish behavior was not tolerated much longer.

There is a paradox in this account. All of these men witnessed what they believed were heavenly manifestations, they believed that Jesus Christ had blessed them through revelation and assigned them to be apostles.So why was the quorum shattered by greed and violence in only several years? The authors do note that despite disagreements that flared into violence, all of the men were either cordial to, or even confidantes toward one another for the rest of their lives. They were generally kind to the members of the faith they had left. Even John Boynton, who became a celebrated physician and inventor in the mid-1800s, took time out of a tour to visit his old friends in Salt Lake City. Boynton was a man who made pains to avoid mention of his youthful adventure with Mormonism, but decades later, was drawn to reminiscing with his old companions. The short answer to the paradox is that most of the early leaders of the "Mormonites" retained their belief in the Book of Mormon, as well as the early appeal that it was a book designed to usher in the return of Christ, within a generation. Their reasons for leaving, or being forced out via excommunication, were probably close to what the loquacious McLellin often said; in their opinion, the leaders, Joseph Smith, etc., became corrupted, and fell short of the principles they believed the church required.

The "Lost Apostles" is a sympathetic account of the six, but not hagiographies. The commitment to Mormonism that drove these men to be early-Mormon historical figures is acknowledged. Most of the book covers various episodes of Mormon history as the apostles related to them. Late in the book the apostles' lives post-1844 (Smith's death) are covered. As a scholarly offering of Mormon history, it's another of a series of books, including biographies of Parley P. Pratt and Brigham Young, that are part of an ongoing process of shedding "teddy bear" accounts of Mormon history with more detailed, accurate, and fulfilling, "grizzly bear" accounts. The book contains a few 1830s' journalistic accounts of the apostles' missionary efforts that are fascinating to read.

I'll conclude the review with brief recaps of the six apostles and how their lives ended:

John Boynton: Like Lyman Johnson, he was one of two apostles able to shed Mormonism. He became a legitimate celebrity of the 19th century, with inventions, 4,000 lectures and fame as a naturalist doctor. His ultimately unsuccessful marriage to a much younger woman in 1865 was illustrated in Harper's Weekly. He died in 1879 in Syracuse, N.Y.

Lyman Johnson: He stayed close to the roots of Mormonism, and was involved in legal cases of interest to the church in the 1840s. Cordial to his former apostles, he never returned to the LDS church. Tragically, he died Dec. 20, 1859, when the frozen Mississippi River broke while he and another man were crossing on a sled. He had just rented a nearby hotel to run.

Luke Johnson: Even as an excommunicated member, Johnson, as a marshal, helped the Smiths escape from lawmen seeking the Mormon prophet. In 1846, he returned to membership in the church. He emigrated to Utah, where his skills as a dentist helped the pioneers. In Utah, he assumed a respected standing west of Salt Lake City, but was passed over when a spot in the Quorum of the Twelve opened. He died in July 1861, somewhat broken by the recent murder of his son. His younger wife, America, outlived him by 39 years and is buried in Ogden.

Thomas Marsh: Many Mormons know Marsh through the myth of him "leaving the church due to his wife's fight with another sister member over milk strippings." That is nonsense. Marsh left the church in Far West, Mo., because he opposed the violence of some church members' retaliation against anti-Mormons. He testified against the church in hearings. Some blame Marsh's testimony for the extermination order against Mormons issued by Missouri Gov. Lilburn W. Boggs. When, almost 20 years later, Marsh, poverty-stricken, in ill health, abandoned by his wife, and virtually friendless, requested to be admitted to the Utah church, it was granted. Marsh died in Ogden, a pauper, on Jan. 25, 1865. Despite his return to Mormonism, Brigham Young and other church leaders frequently mocked Marsh in his last years, even when he was on the stand with them preparing to deliver a penitent lecture. This cruel behavior indicates that the circumstances of Marsh's apostasy must have had bitter roots.

William McLellin: Thanks to his legacy of diaries, McLellin is a well-traveled figure in Mormon history. Considered a learned but temperamental man, McLellin, perhaps engaging in historical license, created a history of himself joining a church of pure christianity, anchored by the Book of Mormon, without priesthood, apostles, etc. The mercurial McLellin, who lived a very long life, stayed in contact with his former colleagues, frequently reproving them. He joined several offshoots of Mormonism, often as a leader, but eventually became disenchanted and would leave each, usually within several months. He died in 1883.

William Smith: As the authors note, Smith was a legacy apostle, chosen over Phineas Young because brother Joseph Smith requested William. Although the authors note that William Smith was devoted to his brother's church, he was a scoundrel. He was a lecher, a chronic adulterer, a man who enjoyed the company of criminals, and was easily capable of abandoning a wife and young children. He skipped to many offshoots of Mormonism, only to be thrown out of the groups as soon as his character was revealed. In the later years of his life, Joseph Smith III, first president of the Reorganized LDS Church, allowed a chastened William to lecture about his father's early years, but kept his uncle on a very tight leash. William Smith died on Nov. 13, 1893, a few days after catching cold during an RLDS speaking engagement.

-- Doug Gibson

This post was originally published at StandardNET

Remembering Mr. Krueger's Christmas

 

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    Most of the world associates the actor Jimmy Stewart and Christmas with the marvelous Frank Capra film, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  And that is a classic tale, with everyman George Bailey learning, at his most depressed hour, how much a town needs him.

     But there is another Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, “Mr. Krueger’s Christmas,” made by the Mormon Church in 1980. (Watch the film herehttps://youtu.be/m7TfY7aK9R4?si=tty5LJi3fuEUiPyz.) It used to be a fixture on TV stations across the nation during the holidays.  It is not an advertisement for the Mormon Church.  Rather, it’s a story of an elderly widower’s optimism and faith that carries him through life, particularly during times such as Christmas, when loneliness can be heightened.

     Stewart, who gives a great performance, plays Willie Krueger, an elderly widower who lives alone with a cat in the basement of an apartment house where he serves as janitor.  We don’t know anything about Mr. Krueger’s past, other than he is a widower and alone this Christmas Eve.  Mr. Krueger is a bit of a Walter Mitty character.  He likes to daydream.  His daydreams are mostly childlike.  He listens to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on an LP and imagines conducting it.  He peers through a glass shop window at a fancy suit and imagines himself wearing it at a fancy function.  I’m sure most of us have similar daydreams.

    Just as Mr. Krueger is settling in for a lonely Christmas night, he hears carolers outside.  Pleasantly surprised, he shouts from the basement for them to join him for a cup of hot chocolate.  The carolers, who appear well off, are leery of Mr. Krueger, not in a mean way as much as a condescending “this is an odd, old guy” way.  Mr. Krueger excitedly prepares for their visit but they merely stand at his door, sing a song and leave.  All except for a little girl, Clarissa, who wanders into the small home and leaves her mittens.  This paves the way for a second encounter between Mr. Krueger and the carolers.

     I won’t give away the ending except to say that before the reunion there is a deeply moving daydream where Mr. Krueger, looking at a baby Jesus nativity piece, imagines he is at the birth of Christ.  He kneels before the baby Jesus and thanks his Savior for always loving him, no matter if he deserved it or not.  He thanks Jesus for being with him when his wife died and for reminding him to be compassionate to a lonely, cantankerous neighbor.

     This is a powerful scene that establishes Christ’s love – and its power to raise our spirits no matter what – as the main theme of Mr. Krueger’s Christmas.  In fact, it makes the final scene with the carolers seem almost an afterthought.  Mr. Krueger, we learn, can maintain his optimism, his childlike charity and love, no matter what life throws at him.

     Again, there is no proselytizing for the Mormon Church in this film.  That broadens its appeal and certainly helped more people see it.  It’s very popular on the Internet Movie Database, with an 8.0 rating out of a 10 high score.

     The 26-minute film has mostly disappeared from television.  Some people say it is hard to find, but a quick search will find many affordable copies, mostly on Ebay. In 2005, it was re-released on DVD with a remastered musical score and sent to Ensign magazine subscribers.  My copy of it comes with three other LDS-filmed shorts, including the moving four-minute short, “The Nativity,” that recounts Christ’s birth.

     If you haven’t seen this film in more than a few years, hunt it down.  It’s worth another viewing.  In a press conference when the film was released, Stewart, succinct and to the point, summed up why he did the film:

     “I liked the script.  I liked the message.  I thought it was time we needed something like this.”

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This review from long ago (10-plus years) did not even survive in Google Wayback. Glad we had a copy of the Standard Works page to transcribe and bring back Cal Grondahl's wonderful cartoon. (In the early Standard Works days, the cartoons were black and white.) Happy 40th anniversary for this iconic film. I last recall Mr. Krueger's Christmas being promoted at least 15 years ago. We were handed DVDs at church during a Christmas service. But today, I'm sure a healthy number of people watch the film during December.

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs

The Darkest Abyss is a fascinating, offbeat journey through stories related to Mormonism

 

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Review by Doug Gibson

BCC Press released "The Darkest Abyss: Strange Mormon Stories," near Halloween or so of this year and that really wasn't a bad choice. A lot of the tales provided by author William Morris are curious -- but satisfying -- reads. They all tend to have a little something of fantasy, sinister, otherwordly, -- take your pick. There's even a "witch" in one tale, and a grown-up dryad who's definitely a bigger threat than the "witch."

 Let me start with the dryad tale, "Wild Branches." In it a conventionally eccentric Latter-day Saint mom is very attuned to nature. Her daughter, speaking to a professor, explains that mom was brought by dad from his mission in Finland, in a trunk, and eventually planted in the U.S. The parents are a bit nomadic, traveling a lot, moving often. Dad likes archeaological digs, but as daughter relates, mom was always better at discovering things in the earth.

This story takes a twist at the end that the author, in a podcast, notes veers toward "cozy horror," although it's certainly not a traditional horror tale. I was caught surprised by the ending, which is sinister. However, re-reading the story, focusing on the mom, her likes, dislikes, talents, it makes perfect sense.

"Proof Sister Greeley is a Witch (Even though Mormons Don't Believe in Witches)" is one of my favorites in this book. Morris crafts it in numbered paragraphs, each one supporting the premise of the title. I like the story because I think most Latter-day Saints have a "Sister Greeley" in their ward or branch, eccentric, kind of scary to youngers, misunderstood by members lacking depth, and highly skilled in often underappreciated talents, such as cooking or home nursing. The "Sister Greeleys" of the world also get it that there are "some things the brethren of the priesthood just can't understand," as Morris writes in the tale. 

To me the whole story had the type of pleasant vibe I get from reading the late John D. Fitzgerald, author of "Papa Married a Mormon" and "The Great Brain" books.

Let me interrupt to say what's obvious. Morris is a very talented storyteller who manages to create unique situations and plots within the culture of Mormonism. This is whether he writes about things that can happen daily in this world, or when he constructs alternative universes and supernatural characters. In a review I published years ago for his short story anthology, "Dark Watch," I wrote that "his prose reflects the uncomfortable situations, the struggling to find the right words to persuade, the inclination to rely on a convenient Scripture to try to sway, and the realization from most of those talking that they won't change the minds of those listening to them."

That brings me to another story in "Darkest Abyss," "A Mormon Writer Visits Spirit Prison." I love this fantasy story because, admit it, all of us Mormons wonder what it will be like doing missionary work in the afterlife. How many times do your hear members of the ward insist that their departed ones are busy as bees doing missionary work for their fellow dead? It's an iconic visual in the church's culture.

Morris provides a spin on that scenario that reminds of C.S. Lewis' wonderful novella, "The Great Divorce." In Morris' tale, a post-life missionary gets an earful from a man penned in spirit prison. The man provides solid reasons as to why he's not receptive to this after-the-fact attempt to save his soil. The Mormon Writer prostlyting engages in mostly platitudes. Morris provides superb dialogue that will remind us -- uncomfortably or not -- of the pabulum we sometimes hear in wards, homes, firesides and some literature. Here's an example:

- I am not God. But I am a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ.

- Yes, you are. I don't know why that matters to my situation at all.

- It matters a great deal.

-So you say.

-- Oh, so I'm a lion now. Or am I the politician?

-- You certainly aren't the lover.

-- And yet I do love you. That's why I keep visiting.

-- And do you enjoy your visits to Arkham, Mr. Wayne?

The story ends with the "missionary realizing" he has little empathy or understanding of the man he's trying to convert. It's a fun, uniquely crafted story.

There's 18 stories in the anthology. "Emma Travels West" is an alternative-universe 19th century tale with Emma Smith visiting wary Utahns and pitching her version of plural marriage. I enjoyed how Morris handled media reaction to her visit. "There Wrestled a Man in Parowan" reminds me of reading a great Levi S. Peterson story. (When I mention other authors, please don't think it's an insinuation of Morris being derivative. He is a unique valuable talent in the genre. Many of his stories remind me of books and stories I have enjoyed.)

"A Sword Bathed in Heaven," and "Uncle Porter's Revolver," are excellent reads that deal, in a supernatural manner, with contemporary topics of the last days, or final battles, and firearms for protection. In 'Uncle Porter's Revolver," a young city man is harshly influenced by the unwelcome gift of a firearm. 

What I enjoy about Morris's writing is in these stories, and others, I have heard people in my life talk like the people in the stories. And that's a strength of "The Darkest Abyss," no matter how out there in the "multiverse" some of these stories venture to, the characters are often people you would meet today.

Read this anthology. It's worth readers' time and investments. A few other stories that are must reads include "With All Our Dead, "The Only 15," After the Fast," and "A Ring Set Not with Garnet but Sardius."

About that other Parley P. Pratt biography

Note: I found this review of Reva Stanley's long-ago published biography of the Apostle Parley Pratt in Wayback, dated May 29, 2009. I had been looking for it. I examined its value compared with other sources of Pratt's life, mostly the still well-read "The Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt." Of course, several years later, the world was blessed with a better-researched biography, "Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism," by Terryl L. Givens and Matthew J. Grow. (review here)

Few people, even Latter-day Saints today, understand how very popular the early Mormon apostle Parley Parker Pratt was in the first several decades of the LDS Church. His books, such as “Key to the Science of Theology,” were as common in Mormon households as “Jesus the Christ” or “The Articles of Faith” are today.

Pratt, who was murdered in 1857 in Arkansas by a man whose wife he had married and ran away with, still maintains high popularity among Latter-day Saints. That is due largely to his autobiography, which is still published and available from multiple sources, including free on the Internet.

Also, Pratt was a fascinating, charismatic man, and the “Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt” is an important read. However, sections have been edited, particularly his murder and the events leading up to his death, a result of Pratt marrying a woman under her husband’s nose.

Pratt should be a biographer’s dream. His life cries out for in-depth treatment. Although few know this, there is a biography of Parley P. Pratt out there. It’s the obscure 1937 out-of-print “The Archer of Paradise,” written by Pratt’s great-granddaughter, Reva Stanley.

It was published by The Caxton Printers in Caldwell, Idaho. I found a copy several years ago for $100-plus and have read it many times. It’s a mediocre biography, but complements Pratt’s autobiography very well.

“The Archer of Paradise” relies way too much on the autobiography. Large sections of the book, while properly sourced, are rehashes of the autobiography. However, there is historical value in Stanley’s recount of Pratt’s marriage to Elenore McClean and the subsequent murder of Pratt by her estranged husband, Hector McLean.

Stanley’s account supports the belief that McClean was a violent man, who abused Elenore. It was doubtless imprudent, though, of Pratt to marry her without legal sanction. There is an extensive afterward that includes recounts of the events by Ms. McClean.

Author Stanley is quite critical of early Mormon President Brigham Young. She feels Pratt was mistreated by Young and that Young was a lustful, hypoctitical man with a grandiose complex. Here is how Stanley describes Young in “Archer.”. “It was Brigham’s wont to travel with a huge calvacade. He loved pomp and display and the feeling that he was some sort of king.”

Opinions are mixed freely in “Archer.” Example: Stanley says that the early Mormon church was exciting and progressive. She then laments that the church in the 1930s is run by scared old men living in the past.

One must assume author Stanley was estranged from the LDS Church when she wrote “The Archer of Paradise.” The critical comments, especially those about Young, are probably why this historically important biography has not been re-published by the LDS Church.

That’s a pity. One doesn’t have to agree with Stanley’s grudges to find historical value in “The Archer of Paradise.”  We can hope that there is a well-researched biography of Pratt in the future. (Note: And of course there was one published; the aforementioned, Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism.)

-- Doug Gibson

The elder brother to the ‘Prodigal Son’ also had his problems

 

Originally published at now-defunct StandardBlogs in March of 2014

I’m a repeat reader; if I like a novel, I’ll read it five times.  If I really like it, I’ll get around to reading it 10 times.  If it’s among my favorite novels, I never stop re-reading it.  One of the payoffs of repeat reading is catching character or plot insights, or finally recognizing – on reading number seven – a plot device.  That happened to me as I was repeat reading Stephen King’s “It.”  I finally noticed that one of the survivors of the fire at The Black Spot in Derry, Maine (set by racists) was a young black cook named “Hallorann.”  In fact, Hallorann was pretty much a hero in that scene.  Of course, as my brain had missed the previous six readings,  Hallorann is a main character in “The Shining” and is also in the sequel “Doctor Sleep.”

Repeat reading is common in religion; in the LDS church, we’re urged to read and re-read the Scriptures, including “The Bible” and “The Book of Mormon,” particularly the latter.  I’m sure that most other churches urge their members to read “The Bible” more than once.

The reason for this post is that I was thinking about repeat reading, wondering if a “lightbulb” moment could come to me as I was repeat reading the LDS scriptures.  In other words, it was a test.  I was to read scriptures in the manner I am accustomed, sometimes focusing, often not, but trying to keep focused.

I was in Luke, chapter 15, in the New Testament, reading The Prodigal Son parable when the dim bulb brightened, and that was kind of cool.  The story is familiar and even iconic.  Dad has built a good farm.  He has two sons; the elder works hard, the younger takes his inheritance, goes off and blows his money in riotous living.

Destitute, now humble, he goes home and asks his father if he can be a mere servant, so he can eat.  His dad embraces him, and they have a celebration, killing the “fatted calf.”  Meanwhile, the elder son, working in the fields, hears of the celebration for the younger son.  He’s angry and refuses to attend, reminding his dad of his hard work and his brother’s sloth.  His dad tells him that all he has is still his, but that they should rejoice that the son, once lost, has returned.

I’ve read this parable probably a 100-plus times, lots of Sunday Schools, Institutes and seminary lessons, and the principles of “sorrow,” “regret,” “contriteness,” “humility,” “forgiveness,” “love,” “reclamation,” “joy,” “happiness” have all registered.  Until a few days ago, though, I had never thought much of the elder son.  He seemed to have some justifiable outrage but was pacified by the dad in the end.

But does the elder son represent a sinner, also?  Was Christ using the mechanically faithful son to illustrate someone who does good for the wrong reasons, elevating himself in order to put down others, losing humility in the process.  I’m no expert in theology, so I went to, of course, books, to see if my thoughts had any weight.

Because I love old pre-Correlation LDS texts, I grabbed the 1938, approved by LDS President Heber J Grant, “The New Testament Speaks,” a 680-page LDS Sunday School guide, overseen by John A. Widstoe, LDS Commissioner of Education. I bought this tome at Deseret Industries. On page 379, analyzing the parable, it reads:

“Then there was also the son who was lost even though his father saw his face every day. He was the selfish, loveless one, with his contempt for those who had strayed away. Although he never left home, he was far away from his father in spirit. He had no love for his father in his heart, or he would have been glad to see his father rejoice. His years of labor had been done in a hard, mechanical way, with the thought that some day all would belong to him. St. Augustine said that the stay-at-home son was looking toward getting something rather than giving.”

The author prefers the title of “The Two Lost Sons” to “The Prodigal Son.” That was a harsher assessment that I had for the elder son, but it got me wondering if the eldest son’s role in the parable was representative of a faction in Christ’s era. Was Christ reproving someone or something? So, I went to an older, but still popular and contemporary LDS text, James E. Talmage’s “Jesus The Christ,” looking for an answer.

Talmage’s assessment of the elder son is also pointed. He writes: “There is significance in the elder son’s designation of the penitent as ‘this thy son,’ rather than ‘my brother.’ The elder son, deafened by selfish anger, refused to hear aright the affectionate assurance; ‘Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine,’ and with heart hardened by unbrotherly resentment he stood unmoved by the emotional and loving outburst, ‘this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’”

And Talmage draws a parallel to the eldest son’s self-righteous anger: He writes: “Pharisees and scribes, to whom this masterpiece of illustrative incident was delivered, must have taken to themselves its personal application. They were typified by the elder son, laboriously attentive to routine, methodically plodding by rule and rote in the multifarious labors of the field, without interest except that of self, and all unwilling to welcome a repentant publican or a returned sinner. From all such they were estranged; such a one might be to the indulgent and forgiving Father, ‘this thy son,’ but never to them, a brother. They cared not who or how many were lost, so long as they were undisturbed in heirship and possession by the return of penitent prodigals. …”

I guess the point of all this, or at least what I learned after my 150^th reading of the parable, is that I don’t have to be the one who sins away comfort and security to be in peril. It was an interesting – and suitable – defense for the practice of repeat reading, secular or non-secular.

-- Doug Gibson

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.