Her website says Williams believes “environmental issues are social issues that ultimately become matters of justice” and asks the question, “what might a different kind of power look like, feel like, and can power be redistributed equitably even beyond our own species?”

Williams is currently Annie Clark Tanner Scholar in Environmental Humanities at the University of Utah.

As it turned out, they only wanted to talk about Joseph Smith. Apparently, our faith movement’s founder represented all that anybody needs to know about contemporary Latter Day Saint groups.

To shorten a long and rather nasty story, I’ll just skip to the part where representatives from United Methodist, Presbyterian, Disciples of Christ, and Roman Catholic Churches prevailed. A Methodist pastor put it this way: “Nobody asked me to prove I was ‘Christian enough’ to join, so why should we start now?”

Eventually most of the fundamentalists/evangelicals bolted from the alliance when an LDS representative was admitted a few years later. They formed their own group, which over time has dwindled in size and influence.

I mention this episode as a way to ask, “Do we expect to be misunderstood or misrepresented?” Is this a natural outgrowth of religious discrimination and persecution experienced by our forebears in the almost two centuries of our faith movement’s existence? Although nobody’s getting tarred and feathered these days (at least here in North America, as far as I’m aware), has suspicion become our default setting?

A few weeks ago I received what was, in actuality, a personal and professional compliment. Yet my first response was something along the lines of “What did he really mean by that?”

Bill Tammeus is the former religion/faith writer for the Kansas City Star. He is highly respected locally and nationally and was part of a team that won a Pulitzer for the Star years ago. He graduated from the University of Missouri School of Journalism a few years before I did. And he writes a monthly column for his own denomination’s magazine, the Presbyterian Outlook, a bi-weekly column for the National Catholic Reporter, and his daily blog, “Faith Matters,” is read by a wide audience.

In early July he featured my book, What Was Paul Thinking?, on that blog. As part of his comments about the book, he noted that it might just be the book to finally get the conversation about the New Perspective on Paul out of scholarly circles and into the hands of people in the pews where it really needs to be today. And then he added this paragraph:

One thing I found especially interesting about this book is that the author is a member of the Community of Christ, which used to be known as the Reorganized Church of Latter-day Saints, the smaller branch of the Mormons. But as far as I could tell nothing in Brown’s book is in any way different from the way a scholar who came from one of the traditional Christian branches (Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox) might have written it.

Wait a minute—What?

Several other Community of Christ members agreed with my initial assessment that that was at least a curious thing to say. A couple even thought it might be a veiled slam against the church.

I have since been assured by a highly respected friend, who is personally and professionally acquainted with Mr. Tammeus, that the comment was anything but a “slam.” In fact, my friend said it was a sincere and significant compliment to me, the church, and other Community of Christ members who’ve engaged in graduate-level religious studies. Furthermore, it bodes well for the church long-term.

You can read the entire blog entry here, if you want the complete context. But I’d like to return to my original concern with some questions:

1. Do we still have remnants of a “persecution complex” in the Community of Christ?

2. Will we ever be fully accepted as part of mainstream Christianity—and is that something we should even want anyway? By the way, just how significant was it to have the general secretary of the (U.S.) National Council of Churches address this year’s World Conference?

3. At what point do “different” and “distinct” cross over into “exclusionary”? Is there a slippery slope involved in all this somewhere?

4. What’s been the experience of other CofC members in seminaries, graduate schools, and other higher-education institutions? (My seminary experience was 30 years ago, so I’m certain something has changed.)

5. Will people outside the church (particularly in the media) ever just refer to our church name as Community of Christ without mentioning what it used to be?

Perhaps we in the Community of Christ fuss over the whole question of identity way too much. We’ve certainly spent a lot of time pondering who we are, who we aren’t, what makes us different or distinctive (two quite different things, I contend), what we believe, what we’ve discarded along the way, and what we’ve acquired on our faith journey. I can’t help but wonder if we’d put half that much energy into evangelism and mission (once again, two different things) how our life together might be different today.

In past columns I have added my voice to that of many others who are anxious for a return to a politics in America where civil discourse is commonplace rather than rare. One of those voices is from the Mormon Church website: “The Church views with concern the politics of fear and rhetorical extremism that render civil discussion impossible. . . . The Church hopes that our democratic system will facilitate kinder and more reasoned exchanges among fellow Americans than we are now seeing.”

At the church’s most recent General Conference, Mormon Apostle Quentin L. Cook said: “Many in the world are afraid and angry with one another. While we understand these feelings, we need to be civil in our discourse and respectful in our interactions. This is especially true when we disagree.  The Savior taught us to love even our enemies. The vast majority of our members heed this counsel. Yet there are some who feel that venting their personal anger or deeply held opinions is more important than conducting themselves as Jesus Christ lived and taught.”

It seems fairly clear to me that one person – and probably the main person — these communications were aimed at is Glenn Beck, himself an adult convert to Mormonism. A former alcoholic and cocaine addict, I think Beck’s conversion to the LDS Church made a lot of sense. The church’s strict teachings on alcohol and other drugs has probably helped Beck recover from these addictions.

A Mormon friend from California, Bob Rees, suggests in an article in the current issue of Sunstone magazine that Beck “has a propensity to polarize rather than unify, demonize rather than humanize, and sow discord rather than promote dialogue. . . President Obama is routinely described as a socialist, a fascist, a Maoist and a communist and his administration as something dark and seductively satanic.” Beck is perhaps the most divisive force in America today. I think only Rush Limbaugh could contend for that “honor.” In his television and radio shows, Beck continually expresses an irrational hostility toward President Obama and all other progressives in the political arena. Referring to the President, he has said “the enemy is in the house!” We have all seen signs at Tea Party events identifying Obama with Hitler, Marx, Lenin, Saddam Hussein, etc. These can be found on Beck’s blackboard.

Incredibly, Beck has said that the President “has a deep-seated hatred for white people, or the white culture.” You wonder if Beck has even bothered to look at the skin color of the Obama’s inner circle in the campaign and at the White House. I think his inner circle is too Caucasian.

When Beck is criticized he does not respond like an adult; rather he launches into scurrilous counter attacks, making up things that aren’t true.  But they serve his cause. This nice Christian man calls his critics “idiots,” “bastards,” “dirtbags,” “thugs,” and “pinheads,” making civil discourse impossible. He even said: “I’m thinking about killing Michael Moore, and I’m wondering if I could kill him myself, or if I would need to hire somebody to do it.”

“Instead of reflecting the message of the New Testament, the Book of Mormon, and the more enlightened teachings of the Restoration, Beck has latched on to some of the worst ideas from the Mormon fringe to shape his political and social persona,” according to Bob Rees, a former bishop. The long-held Latter-day Saint principles of respect for civil authorities are not to be found in Beck’s discourse.

Beck claims that Obama and the progressives are destroying America and destroying our Constitution.  But if President Obama invited him to a “beer summit” (with Mormon punch, of course) like he did Professor Gates and the Boston police officer, Beck wouldn’t have the courage to discuss the Constitution with a former professor of Constitutional law at one of our top-half dozen law schools.  He doesn’t engage in dialogue, especially with someone who disagrees with him and is a whole lot smarter.

As I pointed out in my September 22, 2009 column, Beck has resurrected Cleon Skousen, a radical right wing Mormon who the church finally denounced more than thirty years ago for his irresponsible charges. Local church leaders were told not to use any of Skousen’s writings. They were an embarrassment. With Skousen as mentor, it is not surprising that Beck identifies with the John Birch Society, and his pronouncements have been a key to its recent resurgence. The John Birch Society is a group that claimed that President Eisenhower was a communist, along with almost anyone to the left of Barry Goldwater, it seemed.

Rees sees close parallels between Beck and Senator Joseph McCarthy, who carried out witch hunts in the 1950s until finally the Senate censured him for his irresponsible behavior.  But, as Rees says it, Beck has a “much more powerful media megaphone with which to sound his alarm.”

In McCarthy’s day, two Republican Senators took leading roles in censuring their fellow Republican colleague: Margaret Chase Smith of Maine and Arthur Watkins of Utah. But Watkins paid a price. McCarthy was popular in Utah and Watkins, a Mormon, was defeated in his next attempt to be re-elected.  Similarly, Bob Bennett, a solid conservative Senator from Utah, now completing his third term, was trounced in the recent Republican caucuses and was not even be on the ballot in the Republican primary. Beck beat the drums to defeat Bennett. His sin? Bennett worked with Democrats to hammer out compromises so the public’s business could be done.  He was also condemned as a “moderate” (which used to be a good word) but Bennett clearly is about as conservative as a Senator can get.  But for Beck’s kind of conservative, Bennett is a RINO (Republican in Name Only). Beck said, “I may vote for a mouse over Bob Bennett.”

Many older Mormons remember all too well embarrassing bits of the Mormon past.  Nineteenth century polygamy, twentieth century racism, and the close association some in the church had with Cleon Skousen and the John Birch Society come quickly to mind. They have hoped that these embarrassing segments of their history are a thing of the past, but Beck’s rhetoric has the danger of resurrecting the dark side. About one-tenth of American whites still believe in the doctrine of white supremacy, which most Americans believed fifty or sixty years ago.

Beck constantly condemns socialism and claims that Obama is trying to lead our nation into socialism.  You wonder if he realizes that hundreds of thousands of Mormons live in socialist countries, are doing just fine, and are as free as Americans, if not more so.

Beck really lost it the day he told his readers, with swastika in one hand and a hammer and sickle in the other, “I beg you, look for the words ‘social justice,’ or ‘economic justice’ on your church website. If you find it, run as fast as you can.” This offended virtually every Christian denomination in America, and it deeply offended many Mormons.  Economic and social justice are at the core of much of the biblical message and certainly the teachings of Jesus.

Bob Rees would like to see Glenn Beck conform more to the norms of Christianity, the Mormon Church, and civilized, democratic societies, but he isn’t hopeful.  When a person is making more than thirty million a year with his vitriol, if the church leaders told him he needed to be a better Christian, and made Beck chose between his church and his fantastic profits, I don’t think he would chose the church.

Rees believes that “Beck needs to be held accountable for the increasing racist rhetoric expressed by those on the far right.  As with McCarthy. . . , Beck’s incendiary campaign against the government will eventually implode, but before it does, a number of good people will be adversely affected, as will the LDS Church itself.”

The 1838 Missouri Mormon War (see LeSueur’s great book) resulted in at least 22 fatalities, millions of dollars worth of property destruction and the displacement of 15,000 people. Fought in a context of fierce rhetoric, sectarian and paramilitary violence, weak governmental authority and a privatization of military force, it actually bears significant resemblance to what some security scholars (e.g. my former PhD supervisor Mary Kaldor) have called the “New Wars.” These contemporary conflicts in places like the Former Yugoslavia, Chechnya, Columbia, Rwanda, Somalia and Sudan are characterized by the targeting of civilians; powerful non-state actors; prolonged, seemingly intractable, hostilities; connections to organized crime; and exclusivistic ethnic, religious and sectarian ideologies.

In a previous posting, I have compared Joseph Smith to the religio-military commanders who sometimes arise in such conflicts, but I thought it would be worth thinking more broadly about the political and economic context. I have attached here an essay I wrote in graduate school comparing the Missouri Mormon War and the “New Wars.” In it, I explored the similarities between them, but also looked at how globalization — “intensification of global interconnectedness” — has transformed organized violence. On one hand, if the Mormons and Missourians had had access to global illicit finance, profligate arms traffickers, sophisticated weaponry and/or high-tech communications systems, the war could have been much worse. On the other hand, if the war had been covered by a global media, attracted the intervention of peace negotiators or led to sanctions against Missourian or Mormon leaders, maybe the situation could have been contained.

To read the essay, click here. I would be interested in people’s comments.

-Matthew Bolton

The good Lord who had sent the Lakwena decided to change his work from that of a doctor to that of a military commander for one simple reason: it is useless to cure a man today only that he be killed the next. So it became an obligation on his part to stop the bloodshed before continuing his work as a doctor.

Alice Auma, assuming the name Alice Lakwena, led a insurgency against the new government, known as the Holy Spirit Movement, which had several early victories before being defeated by the new Ugandan Army. (For more information on Alice Auma/Lakwena and the Holy Spirit Movement, see this book or this article).

Alice Lakwena, as a religio-military commander, stands in a long tradition of Warrior Prophets that extend as far back as Joan of Arc, Guru Gobind Singh, Mohammed and King David. Warrior Prophets have been particularly prominant in modern Sub-Saharan Africa, associated with guerilla movements in, for example, Zimbabwe and Sudan. In areas of the world where political authority is fragmented and the state does not have a monopoly on the use of violence, savvy and consummate ‘political entrepreneurs’ take advantage of their ability to wield violence to rise to power (and often prosperity) by offering security to people willing to accept their authority and punishing those who are unwilling to do so (For further information, see this book on warlordism in Africa, or this one on Afghanistan). Likewise, Paul Gifford, a scholar of African Christianity, has argued that charismatic and dogmatic religion provides believers with a sense of stability as Africa faces great social, political and economic upheavals in its encounter with modernity.  Warrior Prophets are thus able to capitalize on the dual opportunities created by chaos — people’s perceived needs for 1) a powerful, paternalistic protector and 2) a charismatic diviner who is able to provide assurance of cosmic certainty. They offer the promise of both physical and spiritual security.

It may be enlightening to understand Joseph Smith, Jr., the founder of both the Mormon and Community of Christ churches, as having played a similar role in mid-19th century America. His time was one of great political, social and economic upheaval.

As a charismatic, ‘magical’ leader, Smith provided divine explanations for the social disruption of the industrial revolution and chaos of the frontier. As people lived short, nasty and brutish lives in the swamps of Nauvoo, Illinois, he claimed that people could become gods and that a mighty kingdom would be establish on the banks of the Mississippi. Like Alice Auma, he promised the coming of heaven on earth. To his followers, the trials of mid-19th century life were thus not simply the result of hard times — they were divinely ordained signs of great things to come.

In addition to promising answers to existential questions, Joseph Smith also arrogated himself to the position of a military leader in the Missouri Mormon War and later formed a 5,000-person strong militia in Nauvoo. Tellingly, Smith provided numerous depictions of Warrior Prophets in the Book of Mormon, notably characters like Nephi, Mormon and Moroni. Smith claimed to offer his supporters security in the chaos of the American frontier, where there were only nascent state institutions and a pervasive vigilantism.

However, the security offered by Warrior Prophets is often ephemeral. Warrior Prophets can actually become a source of insecurity, even for their own followers. Firstly, this is because messianism is likely to lead to hubris and provocation of much more powerful institutions. For example, if Mullah Omar had kept his Taliban a relatively humble and local movement, and turned away links with transnational Islamist movements, he would not have provoked the wrath of the US security apparatus. Secondly, the ardent devotion inspired in their followers is often interpreted as a deeply disturbing threat by other nonbelievers. Thirdly, tempted by megalomania, Warrior Prophets may concentrate authority in themselves, becoming ever more detached from reality. For example, following the defeat of the Holy Spirit Movement, a splinter group called the Lord’s Resistance Army, led by Joseph Kony (who claims to have inherited the spirit of Lakwena from Alice Auma), has become a watchword for bizarre and brutal violence in the region spanning northern Uganda, southern Sudan and eastern DR Congo. Kony is a source of insecurity even to his own troops, the majority of whom are forcibly abducted.

While Joseph Smith Jr. never reached the levels of madness and psychosis of Kony, he too actually made his followers more insecure, through provocation of surrounding communities. Indeed, the early Mormons were displaced far more than ordinary settlers on the frontier. Counter-intuitively, this heightened insecurity may have actually increased some church members’ dependency on Joseph Smith and his equally war-like successor Brigham Young.

Interestingly, many of the early members of the Community of Christ were those who had been nervous with the militarist direction taken by Joseph Smith, Jr. Indeed, the transition to his son, Joseph Smith III, the first president of the Community of Christ was a classic case of Weber’s transition from charismatic to bureaucratic authority. Joseph Smith III embodied a pragmatic, unobtrusive and significantly less provocative style of leadership than his father. He thus offered a very different approach to security for his followers — that of assimilation and non-provocation of the surrounding population.

-Matthew Bolton

On April 6, 1830, when six men including Joseph Smith Jr. came together in upstate New York to organize a church, they founded a new religious movement. When they chose the name “Church of Christ,” they created a brand identity problem that has been with that movement ever since.

The name “Church of Christ” was chosen because the members wanted to restore Christianity to its original (or primitive) form, as described in the New Testament of the Bible. Since the Bible gave no name to the church other than “churches of Christ” (Romans 16:16) or “church of God” (1 Corinthians 1:2), they reasoned that a restored church could have no other name. The original name of the restored church was highlighted in the first issue of its first official publication, The Evening and the Morning Star (Independence, Missouri: June 1832).

The only problem for our “Church of Christ” was that a number of other Christians had already had the same idea. For example, in the previous two decades Alexander Campbell and Barton W. Stone had each founded churches that attempted to restore primitive Christianity by paying close attention to New Testament practices. They likewise called their churches the “Christian church” or the “Church of Christ.”*

Meanwhile, outsiders quickly seized upon the church’s new book of scripture to create a much more distinct and memorable name: “Mormonite” or “Mormon.” As Oliver Cowdery explained in the May 3, 1834, issue of The Evening and the Morning Star:

As the members of this church profess a belief in the truth of the book of Mormon, the world, either out of contempt or ridicule, or to distinguish us from others, have been very lavish in bestowing the title of “Mormonite.” Others may call themselves by their own, or by other names, and have the privilege of wearing them without our changing them or attempting to do so; but we do not accept the above title, nor shall we wear it as our name, though it may be lavished upon us double to what it has heretofore been. (Emphasis in original.)

To fix the problem, Cowdery explained that the church was adopting a new name: “Church of the Latter Day Saints.” It should be noted that in the editorial announcing the change, the “D” in “Day” was capitalized and no hyphen was placed between the words “Latter” and “Day.” The church’s next official periodical, the Latter Day Saints’ Messenger and Advocate made use of the same name.

Although it has proved impossible to displace “Mormon,” the “Latter Day Saint” brand has become reasonably well known to outsiders and can be considered a success. That was small consolation to many early members of the restoration who still believed that the church had to be called “Church of Christ” and chafed at the new, non-scriptural name. Their complaints led to a compromise and a new name for the church. Unfortunately, like many compromises, the hybrid solution was worse than its component parts, and the unwieldy moniker “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” was debuted in 1838. It appears here in the church’s Nauvoo newspaper, the Times and Seasons.

After the succession crisis of 1844, “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” continued to be the name of several Mormon offshoots, including James J. Stang’s church (reorganized 1844) and William Smith’s church (reorganized 1847). Brigham Young’s church in Utah (reorganized 1847) continues to be known under this name, having standardized the spelling as “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Other groups returned to a variant of the original name, including Sidney Rigdon’s Church of Christ (reorganized 1844), Alpheus Cutler’s Church of Jesus Christ (reorganized 1853), William Bickerton’s Church of Jesus Christ (reorganized 1862), and Granville Hedrick’s Church of Christ (reorganized 1863).

The group now known as the Community of Christ continued to employ the 1838 name “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,” as it emerged in the 1850s, and this is the official name in early issues of its periodical, The True Latter Day Saints Herald.

However, to differentiate itself from other groups, especially the much larger church in Utah, the phrases “New Organization” and “Reorganization” began to be applied to the church. When the church incorporated in 1872, the corporate name became “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” This name and its abbreviation “RLDS” were convenient and widely used, but well into the 20th century, many RLDS congregations continued to identify themselves using the 1838 name (i.e., without the word “Reorganized.”) The long-standing RLDS name still appears in relief on the seals of numerous church buildings, like the Joseph Smith Historic Site in Nauvoo (shown below).

If “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” is a terribly cumbersome name, “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” is surely worse. The problem was very apparent by the 1950s and 60s, and in 1968, the church’s World Conference voted to create a committee to consider alternatives. The committee recommended that the official name remain, but suggested that the church emphasize the word “Saints” and created “Saints’ Church” as an official nickname. Logos between 1972-1976 emphasized the Saints brand, but the change wasn’t popular with everyone and the 1976 World Conference ended the practice.

As the turn of the millennium approached, a new committee was formed to take up the naming question. Beyond being cumbersome, a problem with the “RLDS” name was its essentially negative identity, stating what the church was not (i.e., LDS), but failing to articulate what the church actually was. The new name approved by the World Conference in the year 2000 finally resolved these issues. “Community of Christ” honors the church’s early heritage, paying homage to the original Church of Christ name. But it also creates a positive identity by emphasizing the church’s core values: building community based on the principles taught by Jesus.

Nearly eighteen decades have passed since the early church was organized and the Latter Day Saint movement began. The branding problem lingers — the church is still “formerly the RLDS Church, the second largest denomination in Mormonism” — but members can now unfurl a new banner that captures the spirit of their faith journey, as the church progresses ever forward.

_____________________
* The descendants of the Stone-Campbell movement include today’s Churches of Christ, Independent Christian Churches/Churches of Christ, and the Christian Church/Disciples of Christ.