Glory hallelujah and gather ‘round.
I’m going to preach here, but it’s not what you might expect, and it’s not what some of you might have experienced or fear you might experience. No, no, up with hope, down with dopes, up with consideration and cooperation, down with coercion and condemnation.
Here we go: I’ve never really understood this Great Divide that exists in Utah. I grew up on the East Coast, where members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were and are scarce. My friends were followers of that faith and many other faiths. Some weren’t believers in any faith. They were just … friends. At church, a Latter-day Saint ward in an ocean of Catholics and Presbyterians and Methodists and Baptists and Jews and atheists, too, I was taught not to judge others according to their religion or lack thereof. People were people.
It was a wall, a wave of what the heck’s going on decades ago when I first came to Utah, where there were two camps — some people were peculiar, in a proud, self-congratulatory, churchy kind of way, and some were pedestrians, whose godlessness was manifested in the coffee and beer they drank, and the testimonies of the restoration they lacked. Some of those were pretty proud, as well, proud to be something other than Mormon.
Prejudice or prejudgment was hurled in both directions.
I wasn’t naive. I grasped what was happening, but comprehending it was another matter. Not that it’s overly complex. On the contrary, it’s relatively straightforward, simple and — what’s the word? — yeah, stupid.
It’s real, though, and recognizable, to be sure, undeniably evident in our communities and cultures, ricocheting back and forth from the serious to the senseless and silly, stemming from the predominant religion and spreading out from there to politics, governance, business, lifestyles, social circles and sports. But here’s the thing: The reasons behind the divide run counter to the core teachings of the very church that stirs the gap in the first place.
[Read our entire series — Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 — about the religious divide’s effect on Utah neighborhoods.]
And make no mistake, traditionally/historically it is the church and some of its faithful who do and have done most of the stirring — despite the fact that, in recent years, Latter-day Saint leaders have urged their flock to reach out to those in their neighborhoods and communities to establish caring, meaningful relationships with no motive in mind to convert anyone to the faith.
That’s a bit different than the every-member-a-missionary mantra of the past, a theme that ignited in some Latter-day Saints a zeal to share their beliefs, bringing satisfaction to some non-Latter-day Saint Utahns who were interested in seeking a new religion but that also turned off and ticked off some who were more than happy with their own beliefs and/or nonbeliefs.
In some cases, a plea to be left alone brought with it isolation for families, for adults and children, from their Latter-day Saint churchgoing neighbors.
But it was — could be — bigger than just that. I’m talking in the past tense, when the present tense also works.
Strictures thrown down by the faith of the state’s early settlers — and so many of its modern-day residents — cause and have caused a misapplication of those principles by church members put upon those residents here who have and want no affiliation with said church. And those residents do and have done what they could to push back.
Hence, the Dumb Divide.
It is dumb, and here’s why: It doesn’t have to be this way.
Yet, it is this way. It’s important for non-Latter-day Saints to recognize the battle some Latter-day Saints are fighting within themselves. They’ve been instructed by church leaders for decades that sharing their gospel with neighbors is not only the best gift they can give but also their charge as “good” Latter-day Saints. It’s what God wants them to do, or so the thinking goes. But then, recent leaders have urged church members to befriend neighbors with no ulterior motives. That message gets mixed.
And then, some non-Latter-day Saints are suspicious — often needlessly — regarding any hint of friendship offered by members of Utah’s predominant faith.
There are solutions to this divide, a gap that goes beyond just badgering folks with proselytizing and ducking away from the badgering. More on that in a minute.
When Brigham’s band arrived
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) The sun rises over the Salt Lake Valley at This Is the Place Heritage Park in July 2023. Latter-day Saints dominated what would become Utah after their arrival.
First, let’s go back and get a running start at this. The Mormon pioneers who showed up in 1847 to their “promised land” — turning, in their words, the desert into a rose by way of industriousness and irrigation and shoving Native American tribes out of their way — had encountered difficulties finding a place to settle. They had been persecuted, faced mob violence and been run out of Ohio, Missouri and Illinois.
The land that became Utah was Brigham Young’s right place. So, the Latter-day Saints he led trekked and set up their kingdom, their Zion and their church headquarters here. They had to make some concessions to gain statehood — such as getting rid of practices like polygamy — but Latter-day Saints and their church found their place and peace here.
It didn’t mean, however, that they could do whatever they wanted. At least not in theory. In practice, they held great sway over residents and great power as a major force, religiously, socially and politically, influencing the populace, owning land, dominating the Legislature, setting public policy, establishing laws. Basically, they ruled the roost.
Despite efforts by others to integrate Utah into, you know, the United States of America, the going has sometimes been slow. And it has, in some ways, remained that way straight into the 21st century.
To a large extent, the church still rules “the” roost, but Utah blessedly no longer is “its” roost. An ever-growing, more diversified citizenry has moved in and transformed the place. Like continents floating apart via plate tectonics, the aforementioned Great Divide has been and is the result.
It started long ago and continues today. The Salt Lake Tribune’s recent series on the religious divide’s impact on neighborhoods (more subject areas are coming) chronicled and articulated many of the details.
The incongruity on the church’s side, as is indicated by the faith’s name, is that its champion, the centerpiece of its worship, is Jesus Christ. And Jesus taught his followers to love, to love neighbors, to love enemies, to embrace travelers of every kind, to extend charity to all, to the poor, the wealthy, the believing, the nonbelieving, the saints, the sinners, the obedient, the disobedient, the conformists, the nonconformists, the churchgoers and the nonchurchgoers. Even Democrats, not just Republicans. Everybody was in his pool.
Too often, though, Latter-day Saints have directly or indirectly attempted to cram their beliefs and practices down the throats of those who want none of that. A Legislature made up of a supermajority of Latter-day Saints still attempts to put into law religious tenets — or its sometimes-misguided interpretation of those tenets — that have no business being put upon all Utahns.
It has been said thousands of times before by the country’s framers and founders that a separation should exist between church and state, and that line of separation here in Utah has been blurred about as much as it has been anywhere in the United States.
That creates animosity and blowback from those who are on the dissenting, receiving end of that unfortunate blur. That’s one of the reasons the rivalry between Utah and Brigham Young University is as intense as it is. Nothing wrong with strong emotion in any sports matchup; that can make it compelling and fun. But there are times when the vitriol between the red and the blue is made white hot by an extra layer of hatred dressed out as rooting interest because a portion of Ute fans, those who have put up with the aforementioned political, social and workplace bullying, express that displeasure via having the state’s school put a beatdown on the church’s school.
This, of course, isn’t universal since many Utah fans are Latter-day Saints and some BYU fans aren’t churchgoers. But even some faithful Latter-day Saints don’t appreciate the way some in the church throw their orthodoxy, their weight around in matters that the adversely affected believe should remain inside chapel doors and walls.
That’s a concept that does more than just hint at the fact that the state’s Great Divide isn’t exclusive to Latter-day Saints on the one side, non-Latter-day Saints on the other. No, it extends straight through those chapel doors, dividing church members, too: progressives versus conservatives; open-minded versus hard-core.
How to close the divide
(Bethany Baker | The Salt Lake Tribune) Multiple chapels of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints appear in many neighborhoods around Utah.
It’s all unnecessary, though. Why not find or make space for everyone?
Love your God, love your neighbors, regardless of what church they attend or do not attend. Accept them, appreciate them. And ease off on the every-member-a-missionary rhetoric. Too many stories have been told of newcomers to Utah’s neighborhoods being deluged by a welcome wagon of cakes and cookies, sweets and salutations, all with an invitation to church services attached. And if those invitations are declined, then those newcomers are ignored or abandoned.
Conversely, a whole lot of Latter-day Saints just want to be good neighbors and make new friends. They may love their religion, but that doesn’t mean they insist on you loving it, too. No need, then, for paranoia, despite what’s been too prevalent in the past. If it’s prevalent in the present, then discuss it, deal with it, understand it and make it right.
That’s a huge step toward bridging the gap — building trust and honest friendships, regardless of religious affiliation. Latter-day Saints can put recruitment on ice, and throttle up on acceptance, ridding their minds and themselves of exclusionary practices that include only socializing with or doing business with fellow ward or church members. Non-Latter-day Saints, conversely, can understand and be patient with the fact that the Latter-day Saint faith is a high-demand religion that swallows up large chunks of its members’ time. Those members may not be rejecting or turning away from them as much as they are trying to keep their heads above water with volunteer responsibilities that often include charitable endeavors.
I will say this: Latter-day Saint parents who disallow their young children from playing with non-Latter-day Saint children on account of religious beliefs don’t understand the basic precepts of their own religion. Without a change of heart, they’ll never bridge any divide; they’ll only widen it, snagged in their own fearful biases.
On another personal note, one of my best friends, who happens to live next door to me, and has done so for 30 years now, is a former Latter-day Saint who is now agnostic. No, he’s more than that, he’s on the far edge of agnostic. He believes in nothing but science, and what’s directly in front of him. In his eyes, faith is a myth, a joke.
He’s tried to pull me more in his direction than I’ve ever tried to pull him in mine. But it’s all OK. Nobody’s pulling anybody anywhere, and we both know it. Like the song goes, “Ain’t no good guy[s], ain’t no bad guy[s]. There’s only you and me, and we just disagree.” But we talk a lot, we laugh a lot, and we learn from each other. Our kids played together when they were young. We spend time together. We vacation together. I love the guy.
That’s the way Utah can be.
Mormon pioneers settled here 177 years ago, some with a chip on their shoulder, having been driven west, sporting a circle-the-wagons mentality that saw security only among the supposedly faithful. Native Americans and other “outsiders,” too, were pushed aside by settlers who earlier had been pushed aside. It’s past time for the shoving and shunning, literal or figurative, all their remnants, to be done away with. Time for the circled wagons to be uncircled. Time for Latter-day Saints to see righteousness and trustworthiness in their neighbors, not just in themselves and their fellow believers. And time for those outside the predominant faith to back off and build bridges, as well. The desert has blossomed like a rose, a blossom everybody can be a part of, everybody can tend and care for moving forward.
There’s no denying that a religious divide exists in Utah. But we’re all sharing the same space. We’re all humans who should be treated as such.
Not sure about the Legislature, but most clear-thinking Latter-day Saints can live like they do; non-Latter-day Saints can live like they do, and everyone can just let it be. It’s called respect. That way all can live the way they want without pressuring others to do it just one way, minus any feeling of religious or social pressure.
It’s just as easy to understand why doing it otherwise causes problems as it is difficult to understand why those inside a Christian church would want to force those outside of it to do anything against their will.
Can we get an amen to that? Yeah, here’s to hoping — up with hope, down with dopes — that we can.
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Tribune columnist Gordon Monson.
Editor’s note •This story is available to Salt Lake Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.
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Publish date : 2024-08-24 20:26:00
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