Saints in Zion, Saints in Babylon

Saints in Zion, Saints in Babylon: Digital Proofer

Religious Pluralism and the Transformation of Mormon Culture By Rick Phillips

Saints in Zion, Sain... Authored by Rick Phillips 6.0" x 9.0" (15.24 x 22.86 cm) Black & White on White paper 116 pages ISBN-13: 9781505479515 ISBN-10: 1505479517

A Dissertation submitted to the Graduate School, Rutgers University, New Brunswick, New Jersey. 2001 Copyright 2001 by Rick Phillips. All rights reserved.

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This is my unedited doctoral dissertation, defended in 2001. My forthcoming book is based on a substantial revision of this document. In the process of revision, many important arguments and observations presented in the dissertation were edited out. For this reason, I am offering the original, unrevised text for interested scholars.

Introduction: The Social Contexts of American Mormonism This book explores the dimensions of religious vitality among members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the LDS or Mormon church) in the United States. Specifically, I examine how Mormon identity and social solidarity are constructed and maintained as Mormons negotiate the demands of a larger society, and react to pressures created by the growth and geographic dispersion of Mormonism. I uncover these processes by contrasting Mormon life in Utah—where Mormons enjoy overwhelming numerical and cultural dominance—with Mormon life in the urban Northeast, where Mormons are a tiny minority in pluralistic environs. In this introduction, I review the relevant history of Mormonism and discuss the sociological consequences of the peculiar distribution of Mormons in the United States. I also show how this distribution provides an ideal setting to test several prominent theories in the sociology of religion. The History of Mormonism Mormonism was born in the cauldron of the Second Great Awakening, a time of religious revival and social upheaval in New England and the Middle Atlantic region that began around 1800 and lasted for several decades (Cross 1950; Sellers 1991). During the Awakening, old religious hierarchies were toppled, and state supported Episcopal and Congregationalist churches lost their patronage (Finke 1990). This “democratization” of American Christianity culminated in an explosion of new, populist religious movements and utopian experiments. The Jehovah’s Witnesses and Seventh Day Adventists, for example, both trace their American roots to the religious upheavals of the Second Great Awakening (Hatch 1989; Butler 1990). Among the religious movements spawned by the Awakening was one led by a farm boy named Joseph Smith. Smith based his new religion on the Book of Mormon, which, according to Smith, contained the writings of prophets who emigrated from Israel to the Western hemisphere before the Babylonian captivity, around 600 B.C. The writings of these prophets were inscribed on metal plates, which were deposited in a hill near his boyhood home in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York. Smith claimed that an angel told him the location of the plates, and also gave him instruments to allow him to translate the inscriptions into English. Smith and his followers believed the Book of Mormon was the word of God, equal in authority to the Bible. Because of the book, Smith’s followers became known as “Mormons,” although the official name of the church (after several 2

changes) became The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Allen and Leonard 1992). By 1830, the members of Smith’s fledgling movement had gathered together in a theocratic enclave in Ohio in an effort to fulfill Smith’s prophecy that the city of Zion would be built on the American continent. The Mormons also embarked on a vigorous missionary campaign, and in short order their city, called Kirtland, began to swell with new converts, many from England (Backman 1983; Allen, Esplin and Whittaker 1992). These English converts were eager to flee the harsh conditions in their homeland and pursue a new life in the new world. The message of Mormonism—that the true gospel had been restored in a land of promise—resonated deeply with the alienated British working class. In short order, Kirtland’s population was in the thousands. However, the Mormons ran afoul of their neighbors at virtually every turn. Indeed, Joseph Smith’s economic, political and theological experimentation was so extreme that angry citizen mobs forced the wholesale expulsion of the Mormons first from Kirtland, then from settlements in Missouri, and finally from Illinois (Flanders 1965). In 1844, the clash between Mormons and their neighbors culminated in the assassination of Joseph Smith by a mob of outraged Illinois citizens (Hill 1977). Convinced that the “Saints” – as church members called themselves – could never establish their Zion within the borders of the United States, Brigham Young, heir to Smith’s prophetic mantle, made plans to evacuate the Mormons from Illinois and relocate them in the unsettled western frontier (Arrington 1986). Young and other church leaders wanted to isolate the Mormons as much as possible from any outside antagonisms or influences. Beginning in 1847, Young directed an arduous exodus by wagon and handcart across the plains and over the continental divide, finally settling in the arid Great Basin Region near the shores of the Great Salt Lake. In what is now Utah, the Mormons made their separation from the world complete, and began to build Salt Lake City (known then as Great Salt Lake City), which was to be the capital of the Mormons’ theocratic kingdom (Alexander and Allen 1984). The kingdom was called “Deseret”—a word from the Book of Mormon meaning “honeybee,” and symbolizing industriousness and cooperation (Morgan 1987). With leagues of wilderness between themselves and their enemies, the Mormon experiment flourished afresh. The Saints developed communal economies, a church based judicial system, a method for taxation, and even experimented with an alternative English alphabet (Bigler 1998). They also publicly unveiled the practice for which they are best known: polygamy. Polygamy had been practiced in secret by the Mormon hierarchy while Joseph Smith was alive (Hardy 1992), but now that the Mormons were completely isolated from the rest of the nation, they began to practice what they called “plural marriage,” or simply “the principle,” in the open. Entering into a polygamous marriage was seen as the ultimate demonstration of faithfulness and commitment, and all Mormon men who aspired to leadership positions within the community were expected to have at least two wives. The Mormons also continued to engage in missionary work, both in the United States and Europe, and enjoined all new converts to sell their belongings and “come to Zion.” Britain remained a fruitful field for Mormon missionaries, and English converts made the trip across the ocean and plains in droves to gather with the Saints (Walker 1998). The command to emigrate was known among the Mormons as the doctrine of “gathering,” and it was an important aspect of early Mormonism. The

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Saints believed that living in dense enclaves was a key factor in sustaining their identity and producing their religious community (Moorman 1992). The Mormons put much of their surplus wealth into funding the emigration of new converts to the faith (Arrington, Fox and May 1992). Arrival of the Gentiles The Mormons lived in virtual isolation until 1858, when President James Buchanan sent federal troops to the territory to investigate rumors of insurrection and disloyalty to the United States among the Mormons. These troops occupied land to the south of Salt Lake City, and began reporting back to Washington about the particulars of Mormon polygamy and theocracy (Bailey 1978). Other non-Mormons, whom the Saints dubbed “gentiles”, arrived in the 1860s to prospect for mineral resources in the territory (Bliss 1983). The completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869 broadened this constant stream of westering settlers, and the Mormons once again found themselves in close proximity to, and therefore in conflict with, their neighbors (Dwyer 1971). Specifically, gentiles in the territory were outraged at Mormon separatism and the conflation of church and state in what was now known as the Utah territory. Critics were especially alarmed at Brigham Young’s dual status as secular and religious leader (Madsen 1990). Likewise, the continued flow of Mormon converts into Utah from Britain and Scandinavia alarmed xenophobes in Congress (Jensen and Thorpe 1989). Finally, lurid (and distorted) tales of Mormon polygamy raised the ire of an indignant citizenry already awash in the spirit of social and moral reform (Mintz 1995). Tensions eased a bit as the nation was distracted by the Civil War (Long 1981), but immediately after the work of Reconstruction was begun, hostilities in Utah intensified. Toward the end of the century, federal anti-polygamy laws disfranchised the church, seized its assets, and authorized warrants for the arrest of Mormon leaders. Most of the church hierarchy was forced into hiding to avoid arrest, and church finances fell into perilous disarray (Alexander 1991). While “plural marriage” served to stir up public support for anti-Mormon legislation, leading historians of Mormonism agree that the extensive ties between church and state in the territory, as much as polygamy, provoked firm opposition from Washington (Lyman 1986). In 1890, facing considerable political and economic pressure, and with nowhere left to flee, Mormon leaders dismantled their theocracy and removed the remaining ties between church and state. They also publicly disavowed polygamy (although clandestine plural marriages that were fully sanctioned by members of the church hierarchy continued for more than a decade [Hardy 1992], and some so-called Mormon fundamentalists 1 in the Intermountain West continue to practice polygamy without church sanction to this day). They also dismantled their political party, known simply as the People’s Party (Lyman 1986), as Mormon bloc voting was particularly galling to gentiles in the territory. Mormonism’s surrender to federal rule is epitomized by the 1890 “Manifesto,” a public statement of the church’s intent to obey the United States government and assimilate into the American mainstream. The Manifesto paved the way for Utah’s admission into the Union in 1896, and was subsequently canonized into 0F

1 The term “Mormon fundamentalist” is used to describe adherents of schismatic groups that continue to practice polygamy (Baer1988). In most cases, these groups broke off from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and should not be confused with Christian fundamentalist organizations (Shields 1990).

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Mormon scripture (Alexander 1991). As the 20th century dawned, the Saints began to acquiesce to the demands of the federal government, and downplay their doctrinal and cultural distinctiveness (Mauss 1994). Over the next few decades the church came to resemble a Christian denomination much more than a government (Alexander 1986). Polygamy and theocracy were forsaken, but even without them the Mormons remained culturally distinct from their “gentile” neighbors. The impulse to gather and the dense concentration of the Saints in Utah had ensured that by the time the manifesto was signed, a new generation of Saints, steeped from infancy to adulthood in the ethos of Deseret, had established a keen sense of identity and a unique subculture that set them apart. But the Saints faced other challenges to their way of life just as perilous as a hostile federal government. The rigors of life in the desert and Utah’s economy proved to be formidable obstacles for the church. The Transformation of Zion The doctrine of gathering concentrated the Mormons in one region, but the Mormons learned that this region could be inhospitable. Mountain men and explorers with whom Brigham Young consulted had warned him that the Great Basin was dry, and had a very short growing season. The Mormon settlers soon learned firsthand that the region’s arid valleys had a very limited carrying capacity. Much of the land in Deseret was simply too dry to support settlements, and there were very few locales that could provide enough water and arable land to sustain a population of any size (May 1987). Toward the close of the 19th century, Utah’s deserts were already teeming with fecund Mormons, and there were no new lands to farm. The economic prospects for young people in Utah were grim and worsening, and an intractable economic depression hung like a pall over the state (Alexander 1986). Out of necessity, church leaders were forced to suspend the doctrine of gathering in 1899 (Alexander 1986). There was simply no room, and no economic opportunity for the converts to Mormonism who desired to emigrate to Zion, and sustained high fertility among the Mormons in Utah did not help ease the strain (Bean, Mineau and Anderton 1990). The situation had not appreciably improved by the 1920s, and church leaders were finally forced to permanently repeal the command to gather, and began to dissuade eager emigrants from coming to Utah. New converts were enjoined to remain and “build Zion” wherever they were, and those already living in Utah were freed to pursue economic opportunities outside the region (Allen and Leonard 1992). Many, especially the young, did exactly that, and scores of young Mormons left their mountain homes for work and school. Historians of Mormonism point to this reverse exodus as the Mormon Diaspora, an outflow of native Utahns who left the state beginning in the 1920s. May reports that in 1920, about 95,000 native Utahns lived outside the state, but by 1930, this number had increased to almost 143,000 (May 1987:173). Most of those who left did so for the promise of kinder environs and better economic opportunities in California (Alexander 1986). Church leaders were very apprehensive about this dispersion of the Saints, especially as the numbers of Utahns leaving accelerated into the 1930s. Nevertheless, while leaders still held philosophically to the importance and efficacy of the doctrine of the gathering, Utah was even harder hit by the Great Depression than most states, and these sobering economic realities disallowed any reinstatement of the policy (Alexander 1986). 5

The dispersion of the Saints posed a powerful threat to Mormons’ sense of identity and community. Maintaining a majority and resisting religious and cultural pluralism had always been a principal strategy of the church for ensuring religious vitality among its members. Now however, many Mormons living outside Utah discovered that they were a religious minority in pluralistic environs. Church leaders turned their attention toward keeping those who lived outside Utah strong in the faith, and designed programs to compensate for the loss of the dense social ties and the strong fellowship promoted by the gathering. The church began by imposing a uniform organizational culture on its far-flung members. The Mormon hierarchy insisted that that there be no regional differences in church ritual and theology, and began to standardize all of its programs to further minimize the possibility of local variation in LDS culture. Beginning in the 1920s, the church began to use standardized floor plans for meeting houses, thus making the physical structures of the church in areas outside Utah—which became known collectively as the “mission field,”—identical to those in the hearth of Zion (Leone 1973). This centralization and bureaucratization of modern Mormonism culminated in the “correlation” movement of the 1960s—a series of initiatives designed to guarantee continuity in all aspects of Mormon polity and practice between congregations (Mormons call them “wards”) in Utah, and wards in the mission field. Church correlation was painstaking and thorough, and the church strove to replicate the features of the Utah church in every dispersed ward. For example, Sunday school curricula, the format of worship services, and the content of church publications were all standardized across political and cultural boundaries (Shipps 1994a). Indeed, one observer notes: “Today’s centralized [Mormon] church, situated in the American Intermountain West, works fastidiously to assure that the gospel message plus the church organization is the same everywhere.” (Cleverley 1996:70 emphasis in original). And, as Walker points out, expatriate Utahns who left during the Mormon Diaspora produced “little outposts of Utah in California, New York, and Washington D.C.” (Poll 1987:336) This far-reaching standardization gives rise to the familiar Mormon cliché, “the church is the same wherever you go.” By 1940, fewer than half of all American Mormons lived in Utah (1983 Deseret News Church Almanac, hereafter Church Almanac). In addition, the missionary urge in these expatriate Utahns did not lie dormant, and this further changed the dynamics of American Mormonism. In time, Mormons residing in the mission field began to convert their co-workers, friends and neighbors to Mormonism, and full-time missionaries from the West also began to add converts to these wards. The church invested heavily in its missionary program, and it was highly successful. Gathering to Utah, regardless of the economic climate in the state, was no longer an option for the burgeoning church. By this time, however, it did not matter. Improved communication technologies and air travel had made frequent contact with church headquarters a simple matter, and enough buildings had been constructed in the mission field to allow Mormons outside the Intermountain West to practice their religion in its entirety without ever having to go to Utah. The doctrine of physical gathering was no longer essential for ensuring religious vitality within the church, and the Saints began to see Zion in a new light. Once a literal homeland in the desert, Zion was transformed in the hearts and minds of the Mormons from a place, to a people—a figurative community tied together

by a common faith (Shipps 1985). The people of Zion were no longer required to gather physically; they were instead enjoined to gather morally.

As the 20th century progressed, the church grew tremendously outside Utah, such that today Mormon wards are found in all 50 states. The results of the Mormons’ vigorous proselytizing campaign has further lowered the percentage of U.S. Mormons living in Utah from 47% in 1940 to about 30% today. The proliferation and dispersion of Mormonism has transformed an esoteric regional subculture into one of the nation’s largest religious denominations (Cowan 1985). Much of the scholarly literature in the sociology of Mormonism has focused on this transformation. Indeed, Cornwall points out that, “social scientists no longer study Utah as a means to understand Mormon culture” (Cornwall 1996:194). Today, the majority of American Mormons living outside Mormon strongholds in the Intermountain West are converts to the faith, and are widely dispersed throughout their respective communities. Indeed, no state east of the Mississippi is even 1% LDS (1999-2000 Church Almanac), a statistic that takes on added significance when one realizes that Mormonism is now the nation’s fifth largest Protestant body (Kosmin and Lachman 1993). This transformation from “Zion as place” to “Zion as people” is a critical watershed in the Americanization of Mormonism (Shipps 1985). The Mormon diaspora and the dispersion of Mormonism have had a profound impact on the faith. However, while it may be true that examining Utah is not a useful way to study American Mormonism in the 21st century, it may also be true that studying American Mormonism writ large may not be the best way to understanding the Saints who still live in Utah. Indeed, the acceleration of Mormonism’s nationwide dispersion coincides with another, less examined demographic pattern among the Saints in the erstwhile kingdom of Deseret. In spite of the dispersion of Mormons writ large, a de facto gathering of the Saints persists in Utah. In an age of mobility and modernization, Utah’s population has actually become more and more Mormon as decades have passed—from 61% LDS in 1920, to over 75% today (1999-2000 Church Almanac). The strong preference of Mormons who leave “Zion” for education and work to return, together with prodigious Mormon birth rates, have swamped whatever effect “gentile” in-migration may have had in altering Utah’s religious landscape (Bennion 1995). In short, Mormons continue to predominate in Utah, while the church operates as one religion among many in every other locale within the nation. Utah has become more and more Mormon, while Mormonism has become less and less a Utah church. These two countervailing trends are evident in the chart displayed in Figure 1.1 on the following page. Thus, while the Mormon concept of Zion was, for the church as a whole, transformed from a literal to a figurative community, the physical “gathering of Zion” persists in Utah. The persistence of Utah’s Mormon majority in the area has prompted social geographers to refer to the Great Basin as the Mormon Culture Region (Meinig 1965). According to Bennion (1995), the Mormon Culture Region includes all of Utah (excluding the native-American reservation counties of Grand and San Juan in the extreme southeastern corner of the state), southeastern Idaho, and the Star Valley in southwestern Wyoming. Certain parts of northern Arizona are also traditional Mormon

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The Social Contexts of Modern Mormonism

settlements, and are still largely populated by the descendants of early Mormon pioneers. Bennion describes the “core” of the Mormon Culture Region as Utah’s Wasatch Front—an urban strip from Logan in the north to Provo-Orem on the south that is heavily dominated by Mormons. This core is bounded on the west by the Great Salt Lake, and on the east by the Wasatch mountain range. The presence of a distinct Mormon Culture Region implies that in spite of the standardization of the LDS organization, there may be cultural differences between the Saints in Deseret and their counterparts in the mission field that are caused by the great disparity in the density of church members in Utah and without. In addition, these differences may be compounded by the fact that most Mormons in Utah were born and raised in the faith, while the majority of Mormons outside Utah are recent converts. Thus, while the theology, polity and rituals of the LDS church are standardized and identical in both locales, the surrounding social context is very different. Comparing the LDS church in these two dissimilar social contexts presents a unique opportunity for assessing a number of important theoretical issues both in the sociology of Mormonism, and in the sociology of American religion in general. I will introduce these issues after first outlining the methodology of this study. The Settings for this Study To facilitate the comparison/contrast of Mormonism in two disparate settings, I conducted a comparative congregation study contrasting Mormon religious vitality in two LDS parishes, or “wards.” The first ward is located in the core of the Mormon Culture Region: a suburb of Salt Lake City that is over 90% Mormon. The borders of this ward encompass less than 5 city blocks, with fewer than 10 non-LDS families living within the perimeter. Thus, ward and neighborhood boundaries in this setting are tightly consolidated. Members of this ward are steeped in the ethos and culture of Mormonism, since nearly all are life-long church members, and most have 4th or 5th generation Mormon roots. It is a very typical middle class ward similar to hundreds of other wards along Utah’s Wasatch Front. For the purposes of this ethnography, I call this ward the “Deseret ward.” The second ward is in suburban New Jersey (49th among states in per capita Mormons), where less than .3% of the population is LDS (1999-2000 Church Almanac). Over 25 nations on 5 continents have a higher concentration of Mormons than does New Jersey (1999-2000 Church Almanac). Since over 300,000 people live within the confines of this ward—less than 600 of them LDS—the parish boundaries encircle many distinct neighborhoods and subsume considerable class, ethnic and religious heterogeneity. Moreover, unlike its Utah counterpart, this ward is stocked largely by 1st generation converts to the church, most with less than five years experience in the faith. I call this ward the “Northeast” ward. Data for the study include ethnographic interviews with ward members, multiple discussions with key informants from each location, secondary analyses of ward membership data, and almost three years of extensive participant observation divided between the wards. In addition to these ethnographic data, I also compare formal church participation rates for Mormons in Utah vs. elsewhere in the nation using statistics gathered from the church’s biennial almanacs, and a sample of Mormons from the General Social Survey. These macro level data are used to demonstrate how dynamics

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within the two wards typify national trends in American Mormonism. (See the methodological appendix at the end of this document for a more detailed description of the research design.) The two congregations used in this study serve as poles on a continuum that will facilitate an investigation of Mormon religious vitality in the most and least Mormon places in the United States. The Utah ward represents Mormonism in its most entrenched, established setting. This ward is populated by “birthright” members who live within walking distance from one another and belong to the region’s majority faith. The New Jersey ward represents the opposite extreme: a widely dispersed congregation of a small, often stigmatized sect comprised mostly of recent converts who must come together—sometimes from a considerable distance—to sustain their identity and community at specifically set aside times and places. Looking at poles on this continuum is an heuristic device that allows for easy comparison of the effects of being born in the faith vs. converting, and being “gathered” vs. being dispersed. Other regions of the country that fall between these poles will, of course, blend the processes I describe in the following chapters. Mormon religious vitality in parts of Arizona and southern California where Mormons are prominent, for instance, may be more like Utah than New Jersey, while most other states will be more like New Jersey. Examining the dynamics of Mormon religious vitality in these two settings provides important insights for the social scientists engaged in the study of Mormonism. In addition, these analyses address important issues in the sociology of religion in general. Among these is the current debate over the effect of religious pluralism on the vitality of religion in the United States, and the theory of de facto congregationalism.

The effect of religious pluralism on religious vitality is hotly debated among sociologists of religion (Sherkat and Ellison 1999). Classic works in the field assert that religion is most vital when all members of society share a common faith. In such settings, religion is a “sacred canopy” integrating and legitimating all aspects of social life. Beneath this canopy, church claims are uncontested and public life is suffused with religious significance. Religious pluralism erodes the sacred canopy’s integrity by exposing the relativity of church claims and compartmentalizing religious and public life (Berger 1967). The sacred canopy thesis is primarily based on observations of European religion, particularly mediaeval Catholicism (Warner 1993). Until recently, these ideas about religious pluralism dominated the sociology of religion (Stark and Finke 2000a). However, a growing number of social scientists argue that the sacred canopy thesis cannot explain United States religion. These critics contend that throughout US history, increasing religious pluralism has accompanied rising church membership rates, stable church attendance rates, and abundant religious innovation (Finke and Stark 1992). To account for this discrepancy, some scholars advance the notion that religious pluralism actually promotes and sustains religious vitality in the US (Iannaccone 1995). Proponents of this view assert that a tradition of religious liberty and an aversion to established churches in the United States foster an open, unregulated “religious economy” where numerous churches compete with one another for members (Finke and Stark 1992). Competition promotes religious revival and innovation, as each

church seeks to establish a market niche. The more churches striving in a given marketplace, the more likely potential adherents are to find a church to meets their needs. Thus, religious pluralism promotes religious vitality by satisfying a large share of a given market’s demand (Finke, Guest and Stark 1996). Conversely, markets dominated by a monopoly church satisfy little demand, since one church cannot simultaneously meet the needs of every market segment. Moreover, since monopoly churches are less vulnerable to defection and apostasy, they have few incentives to efficiently serve their members (Stark and Iannaccone 1994). This “religious economy” model is based largely on observations of US religion since the Second Great Awakening, and while some scholars assert the theory’s general utility (Hadden 1995), others surmise that this economic metaphor may not be applicable outside the US (Warner 1993). The “religious economy” and “sacred canopy” theses make opposite claims about the consequences of rising religious pluralism. This divergence fuels a lively debate in the sociology of religion. This exchange is further enlivened by the fact that published studies testing the effect of religious pluralism on religious vitality are sharply divided with several supporting the religious economy thesis, and several others supporting the sacred canopy view. For instance, among studies testing the effect of pluralism on church membership, some find that rates of affiliation increase with rising pluralism (e.g. Finke and Stark 1988), while others find that churches grow in monopoly settings (Breault 1989). Among those using church membership rates, one study reports that pluralism encourages church attendance (Finke, Guest and Stark 1996), while another shows the opposite (Phillips 1998). In short, sociologists are still debating the effect of religious pluralism on religious vitality in the US, with each side in this debate dismissing the other’s contrary findings as artifacts of poor measurement and research design (Stark and Finke 2000a; Olson 1999). Other scholars have also entered this debate without choosing sides. Based on the conflicting studies reported above, some have begun to speculate that both religious economies and sacred canopies can sustain religious vitality, but in very different ways. For instance, after describing the consequences of choice in religious economies and the coercive power of the sacred canopy, Bainbridge surmises that “both theories are probably right” (Bainbridge 1997:351). Moreover, Demarath concludes that “[religious] monopolies confer more institutional power, while competition may involve more individual adherency” (Demarath 1995:106). These speculations by leaders in the field suggest interesting possibilities for a synthesis of these theories. Nevertheless, the empirical studies currently available are insufficient to determine which (if any) aspects of religious vitality are promoted by the sacred canopy, and which (if any) are promoted by the religious economy. One way to investigate Bainbridge and Demarath’s suspicions is to observe the effect of religious pluralism on religious vitality by directly comparing a “sacred canopy” with a “religious economy.” Such a research design could potentially uncover the strengths and weaknesses of each model, and uncover the elements of religiosity promoted in each setting. This book addresses this void in the literature by reporting on a “natural experiment” which compares a sacred canopy (Utah) with a religious economy (New Jersey). This work offers an ideal test of pluralism’s consequences by contrasting members of a major denomination in the nation’s most monopolistic religious milieu with members of that same church in a diverse, pluralistic setting. Indeed, the ramification of Mormon church activity for the pluralism debate is widely recognized among scholars (see Finke 1997:57; Warner 1993:1056; Finke and Stark 1989:1054), and this study

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Religious Pluralism

meets specific calls for research on the subject (Ellison and Sherkat 1995:1431; Sherkat and Wilson 1995:1017). The data from this book have distinct advantages for investigating the effects of pluralism, and other controversies in the sociology of religion. First, the book examines the impact of religious pluralism on a single religious denomination. This holds constant a number of organizational variables that are known to influence religious vitality. Second, the book uses qualitative data to examine the nuances of religious vitality.

The remarkable internal diversity of the Baptists has escaped those who would characterize religion in the South as monolithic because of the high proportion of Baptists. In many Southern towns, there is as much diversity among the four Southern Baptist churches as would be found in a town whose four congregations were affiliated with the Episcopalians, Methodists, Nazarenes and Assemblies of God. Indeed, a remarkable degree of competition in the form of “sheep stealing” often exists among local Southern Baptist congregations.

Intradenominational approach

Measuring Religious Vitality

Different religious organizations foster different levels of religious vitality among their adherents. For instance, some denominations exhibit high levels of church attendance and other forms of institutional participation, while others are much less lively. Moreover, expressions of personal piety, such as personal prayer and scripture reading, vary widely by denomination (Stark and Finke 2000a). Sociologists theorize that these differences are partially caused by features of religious organizations, such as theology, polity, membership requirements, and church ritual (Iannaccone 1994). For this reason, it is vital that research comparing a sacred canopy with a religious economy focus on a single denomination. Otherwise, it would be difficult to determine whether observed differences in religious vitality are due to the effects of religious pluralism, or due to differences between the denominations under consideration (see Phillips 1998). An intradenominational research design holds constant the effects of theology, polity and ritual on religious vitality, and better isolates the unique effects of religious pluralism. Of course, a research design of this nature requires a site where a single denomination predominates, and a site where this same denomination operates as a minority faith. I contend that few sites in the United States—the only nation where some proponents of the religious economy thesis believe the theory to work (Warner 1993)— fit the bill as well as comparing Utah Mormonism with Mormonism in the urban Northeast. Moreover, the LDS church is an especially good candidate for such an investigation because the church disallows any significant intradenominational variation from region to region, and from congregation to congregation. This further ensures that the effects of organizational variables that correlate with religious activity are minimized. Indeed, the institutional character of the LDS church practically assures that any differences in religious vitality between Utah and the rest of the nation are not due to differences in the way the church is managed. As was mentioned before, the LDS church is highly centralized and standardized, and exhibits a remarkable degree of uniformity in doctrine, practice and organization worldwide. By contrast, dioceses within Roman Catholicism—which predominates in Rhode Island and operates as a small minority faith in some Southern states—are much more varied than Mormon stakes with respect to their orientations toward progressive or conservative interpretations of the faith (Stark and Finke 2000b). The same is true of congregations in the Southern Baptist Convention, which vary not only in their theological orientation, but also vary widely in terms of the size and governance of individual congregations— something that is known to affect religious participation (Finke 1994; Stonebraker 1993). Further, Stark and Finke (2000a:215) note:

A valid comparison of a sacred canopy with a religious economy must also employ adequate measures of religious vitality. For instance, studies cited above that use church membership as a measure of religious vitality neglect the fact that (1) many churches have changed their criteria for membership over the years, (2) different churches count members in different, incomparable ways (Catholics count children, Baptist do not), (3) the rate of church membership is a crude measure of religious activity, implying little about more significant forms of religious behavior (see Finke, Guest and Stark 1996:206). For example, church membership figures include the nominally affiliated who never attend church activities, and exclude frequent attendees without formal church affiliation. This is a principle cause of confusion in existing studies, since the church membership rate is the most common operationalization of religious vitality in the literature investigating the consequences of pluralism (Phillips 1998). Similar problems plague studies that use church attendance, which is theorized to mean something very different in the sacred canopy vs. the sacred economy, and which is, at best, only one aspect of religious vitality (Demarath 1995; Phillips 1998). Bainbridge (1997:354), after reviewing the findings of these same studies, asserts, “a long list of problems like this gives me little confidence that readily available American data allow us to evaluate the two competing theories, and thus I am not surprised that published studies disagree.” For this reason, my book uses qualitative data, and examines two distinct aspects of religious vitality—religious identity and religious solidarity—in depth. A qualitative research design allowed me to interpret the meaning of things like church attendance in its proper context, and allowed informants to give detailed explanations for their religious behavior. This facilitated a thorough analysis of the ways that important elements of religious vitality are affected by religious pluralism. Leading scholars in the field have argued that qualitative data is vital for understanding the effects of pluralism (Finke and Stark 2000a), and this study attempts to employ such data.

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The Importance of Mormons for the Sociology of Religion I assert that the Mormons are an appropriate group to use in an examination of these important issues, since the secularizing effect of the Mormons’ encounter with pluralism is a central theme in the enormous historiography of the church (e.g. Alexander 1986; Mauss 1994). This literature draws on many of the assumptions of thinkers who claim that pluralism erodes religious vitality. Indeed, this massive historical literature is virtually unanimous in noting the erosive effects of religious pluralism on religious vitality. (Although, because this literature examines this process over time, the effect of pluralism and the effect of other historical processes can’t be disentangled.)

At the same time, growth within Mormonism and high rates of participation within the church are used as evidence for the free market theory of religious vitality (Stark 1984; Stark 1996a). Thus, Mormons are used as a case study to demonstrate the efficacy and utility of both the sacred canopy and religious economy paradigms. In addition, the dynamics of religious vitality within Mormonism can provide excellent insight into the effects of religious pluralism in the nation at large. Mormons are no longer a marginal religious group in the United States; they are one of the nation’s largest denominations with over 4 million American adherents. Wade Clark Roof (1998), in his presidential address to the Society for the Scientific Study of Religion, affirms that Mormons are now part of the religious mainstream in the United States, and may be more representative of contemporary American religion than the erstwhile “mainline” denominations. Hence, forming generalizations about the effects of religious pluralism on American Christianity from Mormonism is probably just as tenable (if not more so) as using the Presbyterians or Episcopalians. In the chapters that follow, I compare and contrast Utah Mormonism, entrenched and flourishing in its traditional homeland, with Mormonism in a place where the church operates as a small minority church. Chapter one outlines the origins of Mormon religious identity, while chapter two demonstrates how Mormon identity in contemporary Utah has emerged from these origins. Chapter three, by contrast, shows how Mormon identity is constructed and maintained in locales outside Utah where Mormons are scarce. The book next turns to an analysis of Mormon solidarity and community. Chapter four shows how isolation and economic hardship forged Mormon communal bonds in the 19th century. This chapter then shows how an influx of nonMormons and the geographic expansion of the church’s membership transformed the nature of this community. Chapter five shows how this transformation allows the church to operate in settings where there are few Mormons, while chapter six demonstrates that a recent resurgence of Mormons in Utah has prompted the return of many aspects of 19th century Mormon solidarity.

Chapter One: The Origins of Contemporary Mormon Identity Sociologists have long noted that one of the major functions of religion is to provide groups with a distinct identity. In turn, a salient religious identity is a fundamental component of religious vitality. From its inception, Mormonism has fostered a strong religious identity that has set the members of the church apart not only from mainstream society, but from other Christian religions as well. Studies show, for instance, that Mormons do not consider themselves Protestants (Johnson and Mullins 1992), and some scholars have asserted that Mormonism is best categorized as a new world religion (Stark 1984). This chapter considers 19th century Mormon identity, and traces the development of Mormon identity in Utah. It then compares Mormon identity in contemporary Utah with a new form of Mormon identity that is emerging in the mission field. Nineteenth Century Mormon Identity Historian Jan Shipps argues that in the 19th century, the peculiar theology and marriage practices of Mormonism combined to produce a religious identity that was different not in degree from Protestant Christian identity, but different in kind (Shipps 1985). This distinct religious identity was originally modeled on the Old Testament scriptures, but in time it developed unique characteristics. Old Testament Origins. Many important elements of 19th century Mormon identity were borrowed from the history of the Hebrew people in the Old Testament. As readers of the Bible, the Mormons saw in their own history and situation many parallels between themselves and the followers of Moses in the Pentateuch. In time, these similarities were borrowed and incorporated into Mormon identity to such an extent that it has been argued that 19th century Mormon identity was consciously modeled on Jewish identity (Epperson 1992; Shipps 1985). In fact, early in the Saints’ history the Mormon began to call themselves the “Children of Israel” and began to theologize that they were the literal descendents of Abraham (Mauss 1999; Green 1999). Once the trek across the plains began, these Old Testament metaphors became an important way for Mormons to symbolically construct the meaning of their journey. This is clearly evident from the journals of the pioneers who made the trek to the valley

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of the Great Salt Lake (Ostling and Ostling 1999). Brigham Young became a modern Moses who led the chosen people to a promised land. The persecution they had faced in the United States became linked in their minds to the oppression of the Hebrews in Egypt (Arrington 1986). When the Saints arrived in their new home, the physical terrain of the Great Basin reinforced these metaphoric similarities. Beyond the presence of mountains and arid valleys, many aspects of the physical landscape in Utah match descriptions of Old Testament lands. For instance, the Great Salt Lake is a huge, inland, “Dead Sea” in the middle of a large valley. This salt lake is linked to a freshwater lake some 30 miles away by a narrow, straight river. There is no mistaking the remarkable similarity to the Dead Sea and the Sea of Galilee in Bible lands. By naming the river linking the lakes the Jordan River to match the one in the Holy Land, the Mormon pioneers symbolically asserted that this was no geographical coincidence. The fact that the landscape of the Great Basin fit so easily within the imagery of the Old Testament aided the Mormons in their project of constructing and assuming a distinct, salient religious identity. Images of taming the desert and making it “blossom as a rose” 1 and notions of the mountains as “Zion’s walls,” or a fortress to keep outsiders away began to pervade Mormon rhetoric and hymnody (Hicks 1989). In their religious services Mormon sang (and still sing): 1F

High on a mountain top a banner is unfurled. Ye nations, now look up; it waves to all the world In Deseret’s sweet peaceful land, On Zion’s mount behold it stand (Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 1985:5).

Based on these Old Testament metaphors, and aided by almost complete isolation from the rest of society, Mormons began to congeal into a unique people, and began to shed other aspects of their identities as Americans or Europeans. The Mormons began to call those outside the bounds of Mormonism “gentiles,” and began to refer to gentile society as “Babylon.” These sentiments are captured in the words of another hymn that typify 19th century Mormon identity: “O Babylon, O Babylon we bid thee farewell/ We’re going to the mountains of Ephraim to dwell” (Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 1985:319). Thus, being separated from the world, both physically and morally, became a bulwark that sustained a cogent religious identity among the early Mormon pioneers. In the 19th century, the Mormons went to great lengths to instill this identity in new converts. While many new immigrants to the new world in the 19th century attempted to hang on to the traditions, language and ways of their old country, new Mormon converts—arriving in the Utah territory primarily from England and Scandinavia—were encouraged to shed the trappings of their former life and assume a Mormon identity as quickly and completely as possible. To hasten this process, the church suppressed ethnic differences between new arrivals in Zion, and chastened members when they attempted in any way to assert their ethnicity or national identity (Alexander 1986). Arrington and Bitton note that “the usual harsh differences between different nationalities and between old and new arrivals were softened by Mormon values and

programs” (Arrington and Bitton 1992:143). Indeed, as late as 1917, church leaders were reminding the Saints that “there [are] no nationalities in the church” (Alexander 1986:47). Polygamy By far the most distinctive identity marker for the Mormons, however, is the one by which they are still known: polygamy. In actuality, the term “polygamy” is a misnomer, because this word simply means the condition or practice of having more than one spouse at a time. In fact, Mormons in Utah practiced polygyny, or a husband with multiple wives, but the term polygamy was used to describe unorthodox Mormon marriage practices from the beginning, and it has stuck with them to this day. 2 Polygamy was publicly unveiled shortly after the Saints began to colonize the Great Basin, but rumors of polygamous marriages had been swirling around the church since the days of Joseph Smith (Van Wagoner 1986). Estimates on the percentage of 19th century Mormons practicing polygamy vary widely, but historians agree that nearly all major Mormon leaders had more than one wife (Hardy 1992). In fact, monogamous Mormons were often told that they would have to enter into “the principle” before they could be promoted within the church hierarchy (Quinn 1997). Thus, virtually all of the Mormon elite practiced polygamy. Having more than one wife became a way for men aspiring to positions of responsibility to demonstrate commitment to the church, and was an important marker that differentiated the Mormon elite from rank and file members. Thus, practicing polygamy was a mark of status in the Utah territory (Logue 1988). Polygamy, as an unusual, distinctive practice, marked the distance and difference between the Mormons and the gentile world, and served as the identity marker par excellence for the 19th century Saints (Alexander 1986). Moreover, since 19th century Mormon apologists often justified the unusual practice by pointing to similar marriage patterns in the Old Testament, polygamy served to strengthen the Saints’ belief that they were the literal Children of Israel. But polygamy also helped forge Mormon identity in a much more subtle, yet profound way. In addition to marking them as different, polygamy also greatly multiplied the number and density of kin ties among the Mormons. Moreover, since church leaders were almost always involved in the practice of polygamy, the church hierarchy, according to Quinn, soon became a huge extended family, pervasively and inextricably linked by blood and marriage (Quinn 1997). One can easily see how having two or three wives swiftly multiplied the number of in-laws, siblings and cousins among the Mormons—especially given high rates of fertility among the Saints (Embry 1987; Quinn 1997). At the dawn of the 20th century, the population of the new state of Utah (admitted to the Union in 1896) was changing in character. Rather than being almost entirely populated by European immigrants or migrants from eastern states who converted to Mormonism, the adult population of Utah was now largely comprised of the children and grandchildren of the early pioneers. For this generation—steeped from infancy to maturity in the ethos and worldview of Mormonism—Mormon identity no longer sup2F

2

This imagery is from the King James Version of the Bible, Isaiah 35:1, and is a common metaphor used by 19th century Mormon leaders.

Actually, in the beginning, polygamy is a more accurate term, given the practice among the Mormons of a form of polyandry under Joseph Smith in Nauvoo. (Van Wagoner 1985) By the time the Saints got to Utah, however, the practice was strictly polygynous.

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planted existing national and religious identities, and was no longer something consciously adopted from borrowed Biblical symbols. More importantly, however, Mormon identity was no longer based solely on the religion of Mormonism, but also on the fact that religious and kinship social ties in the region had melded into a unique, ascribed subcultural identity. Thus, by the turn of the 20th century, decades of relative isolation and the legacy of polygamy had transformed Mormon identity into something based partly on belonging to a large, interconnected web of extended families within the church. This was especially true for the leadership of the church. Based on this, some have advanced the notion that the Mormons in Utah evolved from members of a church to members of a distinct ethnic group (Shipps 1985; Limerick 1995). Of course, Mormonism today is a large, heterogeneous, international denomination, whose growth largely comes from conversion. Thus referring to all Mormons collectively as a coherent ethnic group is no longer accurate (Mauss 1994). Nevertheless, several observers have made a sharp distinction between Mormons in Utah and Mormons in other parts of the world. May for instance, argues that “Deseret Mormons”—those who live in and around Utah and trace their ancestry to the early settlers of the Great Basin—have a genealogy, geographic distribution and subculture that is distinct not only from other Americans, but from other Mormons as well, and that Deseret Mormons persist as a separate ethnic group to this day (May 1980). Others concur (e.g. Parry 1990). Of course, whether or not Utah Mormons are an ethnic group ultimately depends on the stringency of one’s definition of ethnicity (Mauss 1994). Conclusion In sum, the religious identity of Mormons in Utah is based on the legacy of 19th century Mormonism. Utah Mormons continue to share a strong affinity with their homeland, have conflated church and kinship networks, and have many subcultural peculiarities that differentiate them from mainstream United States society as well as from other members of their faith. Nevertheless, converts to Mormonism living outside Utah also manage to construct a vital, but different, religious identity in spite of their heterogeneity and lack of a regional subculture. The next two chapters compare and contrast Mormon identity in Utah vs. the mission field by comparing the way identity is constructed and maintained in the Deseret and Northeast wards respectively. Chapter two demonstrates how the persistence of 19th century cultural patterns sustains Mormon identity in Utah, while chapter three investigates the ways in which Mormons outside the Mormon Culture Region manage to construct a vibrant religious identity without the benefit of these trappings.

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Chapter Two: Utah Mormon Identity The members of the Deseret ward, like other Mormons living in Utah, base their religious identity on a close affinity with their homeland, extensive kinship ties within the church, and a religious subculture that exists independently from the Mormon church. In this chapter, I assert that because social networks at school, work, in neighborhoods, and in public space in Utah are all consolidated with denominational ties, Utah Mormon identity is better characterized as a subcultural identity than a religious identity, since being identified with Mormonism has relevance not only in church settings, but for all aspects of social life within the state. In the analysis that follows, I argue (as others have [Shipps 1985; May 1987]) that Mormon identity in Utah has an “ethnic” character, and is in many ways more similar to the identity of American Jews than that of American Protestants. Living in Utah As the literal descendants of the Mormon pioneers that settled the region, the members of the Deseret ward maintain a strong attachment to Utah as their religious homeland. The Deseret ward is situated in the suburbs of Salt Lake City, and the symbols of Mormon power are evident in the church’s towering office building (the city’s tallest) and the imposing temple that dominate the city skyline just a few miles away. Moreover, the LDS church is one of the area’s largest employers, and the church’s huge administrative bureaucracy lives in and around the Salt Lake City and Provo-Orem metropolitan areas. (About a half dozen members of the Deseret ward work for the church.) Every day people in the Deseret ward drive by places of great significance in Mormon history, and historical monuments and markers that draw attention to the accomplishments of the early Mormon settlers proliferate along the Wasatch Front. Further, the very layout of Salt Lake City is a reminder of the centrality of Mormonism to the region’s history. Addresses in the city are based on grid coordinates, and streets are named on the basis of how many blocks away from the temple they are. Thus, knowing an address in the city immediately tells one how many blocks away from the temple one is in any direction. The corner of 4th East and 5th South, for instance, places one four blocks east and five block south of Temple Square. Thus, the very system used to navigate the city is a constant reminder of what stands at the center of town—both literally and symbolically. 19

The LDS church is omnipresent in Utah politics (Barber 1995), and in everyday conversation. Current happenings within the church are regularly broadcast on the evening news. Finally, the dense concentration of Mormons in the region surrounding the Deseret ward sustains a comprehensive array of services that cater specifically to Mormons. There are Mormon bookstores, companies that produce music for Mormons, and a wide variety of cottage industries that have sprung up around the many peculiarities of the LDS church. There are stores, for instance, that sell a wide array of clothing one can wear inside the temple (temple clothing must be all white), stores that sell dried goods and bulk foods to help Mormons keep a year’s supply of food in their pantries (one of the church’s more arcane mandates), and clothiers that specialize in selling suits, shoes and accessories to Mormon missionaries. Since over 75% of Utah’s population is LDS, Mormons are a clear numerical and cultural majority in the region surrounding the Deseret ward. Those outside the Mormon faith are a distinct minority. The bishop 1 of the Deseret ward, noting the rich array of services for Mormons and the ubiquity of the church in everyday affairs, noted that “Everywhere you look you are reminded that you are in Mormon Country.” Mitchell, another member of the Deseret ward, adds: 3F

Non-Mormons in Utah often talk about living behind the “Zion Curtain.” I guess in some respects it really is different here from anywhere else. Here, the church is everywhere and into everything. You can’t really separate where church life leaves off and normal life begins. The church is a part of normal life in Utah even for people who aren’t members of the church. You can’t escape it.

Thus, among members of the Deseret ward, there is a strong sense of being a member of the majority group, and some members of the ward considered non-Mormons in their midst as “guests” or even “interlopers.” Many, in fact, felt (just as Brigham Young did over a century ago) that maintaining a Mormon majority in the region is a vital concern, and something that is essential to sustaining a Mormon way of life. Mitchell, continues: They kicked us [the Mormons] out of every state we’ve settled in except this one. This state is our state and if they don’t like our liquor laws or don’t like having [LDS] bishops in the state legislature then that’s just tough. We’ve moved around enough. This time, if they get fed up they’ll have to leave.

For members of the Deseret ward, being a member of the majority group also makes it easy to meet religious obligations. Much as Orthodox Jews in a Jewish enclave can find kosher food with ease, Mormons in Utah can utilize a range of services that enhance their religious participation. There are Mormon bookstores that stock a wide variety of fiction and non-fiction for LDS readers, radio programs that broadcast Mormon music, and theater productions that cater to Mormons. Such amenities are not available or are much more limited in areas where Mormons are sparse. In addition, holding a large majority allows Mormons to easily socialize with others of their faith

in a variety of non-church settings, and makes meeting religious obligations a normative expectation, as we shall see in chapter six. Little wonder then, that Utah Mormons are strongly tied to their state and are loathe to leave it, even in an age of geographic mobility. Studies show that Utah Mormons are less likely than Mormons living elsewhere to move to a different state, and Utah Mormons who do move to another state are more likely to return to Utah than other Mormons are to move back to their home states (Heaton 1998). Within Utah, Mormons of any activity level are less likely to move out of Utah than members of other faiths—but the higher their level of religious activity, the less likely they are to move (Kontuly, Smith and Heaton 1995). Finally, Utah Mormons that are planning to move from their community are seven times less likely than non-Mormon Utahns to move outside Utah (Heaton 1998). Kinship Ties in the Deseret Ward The members of the Deseret ward are also, for the most part, literal descendants of the early Mormon pioneers that settled the region in the 19th century. In Utah generally, members born in the faith exceed converts 5:1 (Heaton 1998). This means that, much as it was at the turn of the 20th century, family networks in Utah are suffused with religious ties as well. The Conflation of Church and Family A religious identity centered on kinship enhances the religious activity of members of the Deseret ward. This is especially noticeable in the way that many of the age graded rites of Mormonism are administered within the ward. Within the Mormon church, there are a number of important rites and rituals that children (mostly boys) go through on their way to adulthood. For instance, all children are baptized and confirmed members of the church at age eight. Young boys are given the opportunity to participate in the Aaronic Priesthood (the lowest order in Mormonism’s lay priesthood) when they turn twelve. At the age of 14, and then again at 16, boys are advanced in the Aaronic priesthood. Finally, young men, if they have remained faithful to the church, are ordained to the Melchizedek Priesthood, the highest order in the lay priesthood, when they turn 18 years of age. All of these important transitions involve the rite of “ordination.” Within Mormonism, ordination consists of a ritual in which a man with the Melchizedek priesthood lays his hands upon the head of the one being ordained and says a specific prayer. There is usually also a prayer circle that assists in the ordination, and all members of the prayer circle are Melchizedek priesthood holders. Baptism is also performed primarily by men who hold the Melchizedek priesthood. 2 Among the Mormons in the Deseret ward, these age graded rites are almost exclusively performed by fathers. In addition, for the more major religious rites, the prayer circle is generally composed of members of the extended family: uncles, cousins, grandparents. These relatives often come to visit the ward where the ordination is to be performed. Participation in all of these rites is screened and approved by church 4F

1

Bishop is the highest office in a Mormon congregation. In early Utah, the office of bishop was as much a political as an ecclesiastical appointment (Shipps, May and May 1994). Today, the office of bishop is equivalent to being a Protestant pastor or a Catholic parish priest. Bishops in the LDS church are members of a lay clergy, however, and are called to serve for a period of about five years.

2 Technically, those holding the office of priest in the Aaronic priesthood can perform the ordinance of baptism. However, this is quite rare within contemporary Mormonism, and baptisms are almost always performed by Melchizedek priesthood holders.

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leaders, so fathers who wish to ordain their children must live their lives in strict adherence to the demands of the church. This often prompts men in the church to maintain high levels of religious activity even if their subjective religious commitment is not particularly high. It is considered an embarrassment not to be able to ordain your own son or bless your daughter, and since such rituals occur quite frequently (especially given the large size of some Mormon families) adherence to church strictures is essential. Martha, a member of the Deseret ward, points out that her husband greatly increased his church participation as his daughter was nearing the age of baptism: When Cathy was about seven and a half [years old] Roy all of a sudden started going to church. He shaved off his mustache and everything. 3 It was quite a change. But he said that he wanted to be the one to baptize his own daughter. You know it is such a shame whenever you see a little boy or girl being baptized by their grandpa or uncle. You wonder what the kid must think that their father wasn’t worthy to baptize them. I think that sends a real bad message to the kid about the importance of the gospel. So Roy all of a sudden changed. And you know what? He was the one who baptized her.

on them. Nevertheless, recommends are necessary to attend the temple, and even the parents of the bride or groom will be denied entrance into the temple for the wedding without a recommend. Mormons in the Deseret ward that were only semi-active spoke often of the ways that the temple affects their religious activity. Marjorie noted: I let my parents know well before we got engaged that we were thinking about getting married and that we were going to have a short engagement so that we could get married in the summer. My folks aren’t very active in the church so I wanted to give them ample time to get going on their tithing. I also called my aunt Janet to let her know, since they only go to church about every other week. I wanted everyone to be there.

5F

For some, these rituals are just as much a family matter as they are a church matter, and sometimes the importance of family participation can outweigh the importance of meeting church requirements. Roger, who has lived within the confines of the Deseret ward all his life, told me that he had asked his brother to participate in the blessing (christening) of his baby, even though he knew that his brother was not worthy to do so by church standards. But, said Roger, “He was a worthy member of the family, so I asked him to stand in the circle.” (cf. Ure 1999) This is a common occurrence along the Wasatch Front, as local ecclesiastical leaders are often not aware of the church worthiness of visitors to their wards, and thus marginally active men are sometimes able to participate in ordinances as visitors that they could not perform as members of their own wards. In short, the rituals of Mormonism are a part of the LDS religion, but among members of the Deseret ward and Mormons in Utah generally, they are also family obligations. Hence, compliance with church strictures is often a necessary family duty. Nowhere is this more apparent than when it comes to getting a “recommend” to enter the Mormon temple. Mormon temples are special buildings that are set aside for the most esoteric rites of Mormonism. They are also the buildings where Mormon weddings are performed. According to Mormon theology, only Mormons who contract their marriage in a temple will be allowed into the highest realms of Mormon heaven, so a temple marriage is highly valued. However, getting into the temple requires a recommend, or a clearance from both ward and stake 4 leaders. Such recommends are difficult to get and require that the church member obey the Word of Wisdom—the church’s prohibition against alcohol, tobacco, coffee and tea—and pay a full 10% tithing. Informants for this study spoke regularly of the difficult burden that the tithing requirement imposes 6F

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Although the church does not prohibit beards and moustaches, being clean shaven is generally the norm among those in leadership positions within the church. 4 A “stake” is roughly the equivalent of a diocese, and is an administrative unit made up of 5 – 8 wards. The “stake president” and his two counselors, constitute the “stake presidency,” and these men preside over the stake with the help of a “stake high council” comprised of twelve men.

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Since temple weddings are usually very intimate affairs, only very close family members attend. (Typically only about twenty people or so see the actual ceremony in the temple.) Since these are usually the bride and groom’s closest relatives, an invitation to a temple wedding in Mormon circles is rarely a surprise, and thus those that are less than full tithe payers (which a number of my informants freely admitted) can prepare for the ceremony. Once again, it would be embarrassing to miss an important family obligation for failing to meet a church requirement. In short, among members of the Deseret ward and in Utah generally, good standing within the church is often a barometer of family solidarity, since family members who are not “temple worthy” cannot participate in these important rituals. Genealogy Members of the Deseret ward also displayed the fact that their Mormon identity was based on kinship through the practice of genealogy. The LDS church places considerable emphasis on genealogy, and members of the church are expected to research their own personal genealogy for four generations (Cooper 1990). Many Mormons take up genealogy as a hobby, and some become quite proficient at it, and do extensive genealogical research. The church itself operates the largest genealogical library in the world, and on any given day thousands of people pass through its doors doing research. For members of the Deseret ward, researching their family history also gives them insights into their pioneer heritage, and solidifies the fact that their religious identity is based not only on church membership, but also on their lineage (Mauss 1994:89). Many members of the Deseret ward were keenly aware of their pioneer ancestry, and were quick to share stories from early church history that they had uncovered from old diaries and newspaper clippings while researching their genealogy. The importance of being true to the legacy of the pioneers by preserving what they built and stood for is a common theme that runs through these stories. Rachel, whose last name readily identifies her in Mormon circles as a woman with a pioneer pedigree, demonstrates this: One thing you realize when you do your genealogy and learn about the early pioneers is all that they went through for the gospel’s sake. There was so much sickness and hunger and hard times. So many of the children died at such a young age. It’s a lesson in faith. They went through so much. To turn your back on the church would be to turn your back on them. It would dishonor your family name!

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By contrast, for converts to the church—like those in the Northeast ward—genealogy serves a slightly different purpose. For these Mormons, genealogy allows them to identify ancestors who were not members of the church. Once identified, these departed forbears are then baptized into the church by proxy. Mormons call this “baptism for the dead,” and the practice rests on the belief that people can still convert to Mormonism after they die. Since conversion requires baptism, and since departed spirits have no body to baptize, people on earth must be baptized by proxy for the dead (Newell 2000). Hence, for converts to the church, genealogy is a means to provide salvation for their ancestors. To be sure, Utah Mormons are seeking to save previous generations through genealogy as well. However, the genealogy of many Utah Mormon families is well researched, and some descendants of the Mormon pioneers must go back three or four generations to find a non-LDS ancestor. Hence, for Utah Mormons, genealogy is less a means for saving one’s ancestors than it is for 1st generation converts to the church, and more a way to celebrate one’s religious heritage. In sum, pioneer ancestry is a powerful component of Mormon identity in Utah. In his study of inactive Mormons, Ure (1999) points out that many Mormons who never attend church still identify with their pioneer heritage, and consider themselves fully Mormon by virtue of their lineage alone. One need not look far within Mormonism to see the importance that pioneer ancestry still has for the Mormon elite. Indeed, Quinn points out that even though the LDS church is now an international religion, the governing Mormon hierarchy is still shaped by its pioneer heritage. At the dawn of the 21st century, all but one member of the Church’s governing First Presidency and Quorum of Twelve Apostles was born in Utah (Quinn 1997:193, 197). 5 The “line of authority” also illustrates the conflation of family lineage and religious heritage in Utah. Many Mormon men carry with them a card that contains information on their ordination to the Melchizedek priesthood. The card notes when and by whom they were ordained, when and by whom the person that ordained them was ordained, and so on back to Joseph Smith. This “line of authority” card is a kind of ecclesiastical genealogy, charting the passage of the priesthood from generation to generation. For Utah Mormon men, the line of authority is also a partrilineal genealogy, and the names on the card are those of the priesthood holder’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. This exemplifies the fusion of church and kinship ties among Mormon men. By contrast, in the Northeast ward, most new converts to Mormonism are ordained by friends or ward leaders, and the other names in their line of authority are usually strangers. 7F

Ethnic Aspects Aside from kinship ties in the church, there are other aspects of Mormon identity in Utah that give Utah Mormons an “ethnic” character that transcends membership in a religious denomination. For example, there is a well documented corpus of Mormon folklore that is much more commonly known and shared within Utah than in areas outside the Mormon Culture Region (Wilson 1981; Swetnam 1991). Subcultural pe-

5 Henry Eyring, an apostle born in Princeton, NJ, is the son of a famous Mormon scientist who took an academic post at Princeton. However, the Eyring family was originally from Utah, returned to Utah after a stint in Princeton, and are descended from the early pioneers. Eyring is thus the exception that proves the rule.

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culiarities like this have prompted a number of scholars within the sociology of religion to refer to the Mormons as a “quasi-ethnic” group (see Roof and McKinney 1987), since they lack some of the defining characteristics of true ethnic groups, most notably a distinct language. Nevertheless, despite superficial similarities to mainstream society, it is clear to most observers that Utah society has many elements that set it apart from the rest of the nation. These peculiarities form the fabric of what people in Utah call the “Zion curtain”—the cultural wall that separates Utah from the rest of the country. As Dean May (1987:130) contends: It could plausibly be argued that despite outward manifestations of patriotism, many Utahns to this day have successfully and happily eluded “Americanization.” . . . There is much evidence that the most fundamental of their distinctive traits as a people remain—in fact may even be stronger than at previous times—and that their resemblance to other Americans is superficial.

The Mormons in the Deseret ward, and in Utah generally, are keenly aware of themselves as a distinct people, and the divide between who is Mormon and who is not is the single most important way that people are categorized in the state. After over 150 years together in the Salt Lake Valley, the cultural distance between Mormons and gentiles in Utah is still very much apparent, and both sides have a strong sense of who is “us” and who is “them” (Poll 1987:325). In the area surrounding the Deseret ward, knowing someone’s religion is so important to social interaction that asking someone what faith they profess is a common occurrence—almost as common as asking someone where they are from. In fact, visitors to Utah are often bewildered or taken aback by the preoccupation that Mormons have with knowing the religious affiliation of the people with whom they interact—even if that interaction is brief (Barber 1995). Determining Who is Mormon Of course, sometimes people needn’t be queried about their religious preference, as the answer is often obvious from certain subcultural cues. One of the easiest cues for Mormons to recognize and one that immediately gives away membership in the Mormon church is the sight of temple garments. When Mormons reach adulthood, they are invited, if their lives are in accordance with church teachings, to attend the temple to participate in what is known as an “endowment ceremony.” The ceremony is one of the most arcane rites of Mormonism and talking about the content of the ceremony outside of the temple is taboo. After receiving the endowment, a person is henceforth required to wear a special undergarment that symbolizes their commitment to the church. These undergarments have changed considerably throughout the history of the church (Buerger 1994), but they presently consist of a t-shirt with a low cut neck and a boxer style bottom that comes down to just above the knee. Men’s and women’s garments differ in design, but cover the same areas of the body. Mormons must wear their temple garments night and day, and endowed Mormons who do not wear their garments are usually completely inactive. The garments are often visible beneath a shirt (particularly men’s shirts) and this is known colloquially as seeing someone’s “eternal smile,” presumably because the sweep of the low neckline resembles the arc shape of a smile. Seeing a person’s eternal smile immediately notifies another Mormon 25

that he or she is interacting with a member of the church. It is one of the first cues that some Mormons look for when attempting to determine whether or not the person they are interacting with is LDS. Thus, garments are an important means of identification because they signify not only church membership, but bespeak a certain level of activity within the church as well. Aside from the presence of garments, a number of the people I interviewed agreed that there are also intangible clues that help them determine whether or not a given individual is a member of the church, and that there is usually something about LDS people that makes them easy to identify. Some said it was the way a person spoke or the words they used, but most asserted that “sometimes you can tell because they just look Mormon.” A number of observers have similarly commented on a particular Mormon “look” in Utah (Mauss 1994). This may well be due to the relative homogeneity of the Saints, and the legacy of British ancestry in Utah. Stark notes that of the 25 U.S. counties with the highest percentage of persons of English ancestry, 19 are in Utah and the other six are in Mormon dominated southeast Idaho (Stark 1998:37). Many other Mormons have Scandinavian ancestors, and thus the Mormon “look” is a decidedly western European, fair skinned, light haired, WASPy appearance. Couple this with a preference for a clean-cut, clean-shaven look, and many Mormons can make a good guess about whether a given individual in Utah is LDS or is not. Of course, sometimes garments are not visible and a person’s looks don’t tell enough. In situations like these, many Mormons in Utah (especially children) are quick to ask, “Are you LDS?” or, simply, “What religion are you?” Most of the time, however, people in the Deseret ward simply assumed that the people with whom they were interacting were LDS, unless there was evidence to the contrary. The consequences of this assumption are illustrated by the findings of Orbell, Goldman, Mulford and Dawes (1992). These researchers found that Mormons in Utah behaved very differently than expected when they were asked to participate in the classic “prisoner’s dilemma” experiment. As Stark and Bainbridge (1997:187) recount, “when Mormon subjects in Logan, Utah were used as subjects, the level of cooperation was far higher than normal. Moreover, subjects were more likely to cooperate the more often they went to church.” However, these findings held only among Mormons in Utah, and Orbell and colleagues discovered that when the study was repeated among Mormons in Oregon, these subjects were no more likely to cooperate than anyone else. The researchers concluded from these findings that the high concentration of Mormons in Logan prompted the subjects to assume that their partner in the experiment was also a Mormon, and this mutual acknowledgement of a shared identity and religious heritage heightened their desire to cooperate. Since Mormons in Oregon could not make a similar assumption about the religious identity of their partner, they were more likely to choose a course of action based on self-interest. This implies that knowing someone’s religion in Utah has an impact on everyday interaction. Mormons in Utah have a higher level of trust for those within the faith, and expect a certain level of cooperation and solidarity from other church members.

The members of the Deseret ward were very aware of the distinctions between members of the church and “gentiles,” even though the term gentile has fallen into disuse among most Mormons in favor of the less pejorative “non-Mormon” or “non-LDS.”

Ward members that I interviewed would often qualify statements about non-LDS people by first introducing the fact that the individuals we were discussing were not members of the church, even when this fact had no relevance for our conversation. For instance, the Wilsons, a prominent non-LDS family living within the ward boundaries were rarely referred to in my interviews as simply the Wilsons, but rather their name was qualified with a statement that made clear that they weren’t members of the church, such as “the Wilsons—they’re not LDS,” or “the non-member family on the corner.” Indeed, mentioning the fact that someone is not LDS was a common occurrence in my interaction with the people in the Deseret ward, and in analyzing the data from my interviews, I often came across phrases like this one, spoken by Ron while we were standing in his driveway: “Do you like my boat? My boss—he’s not LDS— he has one just like it.” Even the Mormons I interviewed who never attended church still generally made strong distinctions between themselves and non-Mormons. Alice, for instance, who hadn’t been to a church meeting in years and swore that she would never step foot in the meeting house again because “the members of this ward are a bunch of hypocrites” noted, not five minutes later, that the young man that mows her lawn “is a cute little non-Mormon boy, otherwise he and my youngest girl might make a cute couple.” It became apparent early on that these inactive Mormons—sometimes called “Jack Mormons” (but more often simply called “inactives”)—are often still immersed in the subculture of Mormonism, and are thus part of the majority group and remain culturally distinct from those outside the church. In short, the cultural gulf between active Mormons and Jack Mormons in Utah is not nearly as wide as the gulf between either group and the non-Mormons, particularly among older people. This was obvious from my interviews, as most of the ward members who hadn’t attended church in some time still readily shared stories of their pioneer ancestors and displayed a knowledge of Mormon theology and church history that was, in many instances, indistinguishable from that of their churchgoing peers. Almost all had family that were still active in the church, many of the men had gone on missions, and most had married within the faith—many within the temple. One unfortunate consequence of categorizing people by religion in Utah is the fact that Mormons are often suspected of discriminating against their non-Mormon neighbors. Non-Mormons in Utah are very aware of their outsider status in the community and often complain that they are treated unfairly by the Mormon majority (Barber 1995). Among the most common complaints is that non-Mormon children have problems fitting in socially in Utah public schools, and find it difficult to develop close friendships with Mormon playmates (Poll 1987:334). Single Mormons also complain about the daunting restrictions on the marriage market in Utah, since Mormons are discouraged from dating and forbidden from marrying outside their faith. Complaints such as these have helped foster a stereotype that Mormons in Utah are clannish, and church leaders are obviously concerned enough about this image to speak often from the pulpit imploring the Utah flock to be better neighbors and more tolerant of people of other faiths (Cowan 1985). While it is sometimes true that Utah Mormons dislike the notion of gentiles moving into the state, most of the clannishness they exhibit is not based on antipathy toward non-Mormons, but rather a desire to have friendships and interaction within the faith. Mormon parents are wary of letting children play with friends whose parents keep alcohol and coffee in the house, and who may use language or watch movies that

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The Divide Between Mormons and Gentiles

violate LDS standards. Also, since Mormon parents realize that their children are likely to marry who they date, they often forbid their children to date non-Mormons. Such restrictions are not imposed because of a dislike or prejudice against non-Mormons, but rather a practical concern that dating outside the church can easily lead to marriage outside the church.

Indeed, the cultural distance between converts and the active birthright members of the ward is sometimes greater than the distance between the latter and those members of the church who never attend religious services, but nevertheless have pioneer ancestors. In fact, the less active members of the ward seemed to draw the sharpest distinctions between converts and birthright members. Janet, a woman who rarely attends church services but considers herself to be very religious remarked:

The Divide Between Deseret Mormons and Converts The elements of Mormon “quasi-ethnicity” in Utah also separate Utah Mormons from those who have recently converted to Mormonism. Many converts to the faith look for an opportunity to move to Utah, hoping to find fellowship with other Mormons and suitable mates for themselves or their children (Sorenson 1997). (This will be discussed in detail in chapter three.) Often, however, when these new Mormons arrive in Utah, they find that while they are members of the same church as the Deseret Saints, they do not share the regional culture of Utah Mormonism. Since many don’t have the “Mormon look” for instance, they are often categorized by the Saints in Utah as nonMormons, and treated accordingly. George, a recent convert of Greek ancestry who moved to Utah after joining the church, claimed that his black hair and olive complexion caused him to be mistaken for a gentile in almost every social setting. “People were trying to convert me at work. The guy I share a cubicle with gave me a Book of Mormon one day and I said, ‘Hey, I’m a member of the church,’ and he said, ‘really?’ like it was the strangest thing.” Even if they are not mistaken for non-Mormons, recent converts in Utah often complain that Deseret Mormons sometimes make strong distinctions between themselves and converts. “It’s as if,” George complained, “having pioneers in your background makes you more Mormon.” Indeed, that is exactly how many members of the Deseret ward with pioneer ancestors feel. At one point, the favored status of birthright members was actually ensconced in Mormon folk belief, and traditional Mormon teaching held that the most valiant and righteous in the pre-earth life were rewarded by being born into the true church. Converts were a step below. Most adult members of the Deseret ward that I interviewed were aware of this traditional doctrine, but it is never invoked in church meetings these days, as the church hierarchy makes a conscious effort to try and minimize differences between converts and those who are born in the church. Nevertheless, differences do remain, and many members of the Deseret ward admitted that they are sometimes suspicious of converts, or question the motives of people who convert to the church. (This is especially true of the older members of the ward.) These suspicions are particularly noticeable when someone converts to Mormonism in order to marry a Mormon. Unfortunately, these suspicions are often grounded in experience, as it is sometimes the case that someone will convert to the church to marry a Mormon, but once the marriage takes place, they stop attending church. Members of the Deseret ward are well aware of the few converts in their midst, and often attribute the attitudes and behaviors of these people to the fact that they are converts. Often, as is the case when referring to non-Mormons, the fact that someone is a convert comes up in conversation when it is completely irrelevant to the subject at hand. Like when Ed Davies informed me that “Brother and Sister Nelson’s son married a lawyer. He’s a convert to the church.”

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There are members of the church and then there are Mormons. All Mormons are members of the church but not all members of the church are Mormons. To be a Mormon is to grow up in the church and to live a Mormon life. You really can’t convert to it. Now converts have all the blessings of the church, but they don’t have the experience of going to Primary as a little girl, or they can’t remember what church was like before the block program or what Spencer W. Kimball’s 6 raspy voice sounded like. That’s all part of being a Mormon. 8F

Other less active members were critical of the lengths that converts often go to in order to fit into the ward. Some thought that recent converts tended toward fanaticism, or that they were overcompensating for the fact that they didn’t know the ins and outs of Utah society, or have pioneer ancestors. Because converts in Utah do not have kin ties in the church, their motives for living their religion are usually based solely on personal conviction. Unlike the Utah Saints, they do not have family obligations that impel them to participate in church programs, and hence they are usually motivated solely by their strong commitment to Mormonism. Studies show, for instance, that converts tend to have higher rates of activity than birthright members in the West. Converts attend church more, see themselves as more religious, and pray more alone and with their families than do their “lifer” counterparts in the West (Albrecht 1998:273-274). It is this conviction that leads some life long members to view the level of activity and religiosity that converts sustain with suspicion. Diana, a woman who attends church nearly every week, remarked: Our next door neighbors are converts and they moved here from North Carolina. . . . Now when I talk I sometimes say “shit,” “damn” or “hell,” you know. One day we are talking and she tells me that I should watch my language because it’s not language that a good church member would use. I said, “Lady, how long have you been in this church? You don’t know the first thing about being in this church.” I told her, I said, “There have been general authorities of the church that said “shit,” “damn” and “hell.” 7 9F

Fred’s attitude was similar to Diana’s, and he deeply resented when his home teacher—a convert and counselor in the elder’s quorum presidency—came by to give him his monthly lesson. This distance was certainly felt by the converts themselves in the Deseret ward, and many of the recent converts said that they often felt like or were treated like visitors to the ward. Knowing this, they often made a point to give 110% in order to show 6

Spencer W. Kimball was the 12th president of the church. His voice was raspy because his vocal chords were surgically removed. (E. Kimball 1986) 7 J. Golden Kimball, the famous swearing General Authority, was known for using profanity in his speeches (J. Kimball 1999).

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members of the ward that they were serious about their commitments to the church. George, for instance, said that “I had to prove myself as a convert.” Of course, by attempting to fit in through a fervent commitment to church activity, George and other converts occasionally foster resentment among the less active members of the Deseret ward. In spite of this, most converts are able to fully assimilate into the ward in time, and tend to adopt the cultural style of the Deseret Mormons in very short order. This transition seems to be smoother for those who lived in Utah when they joined the church or relocated to Utah shortly afterward than for those who lived elsewhere for a while, and constructed a Mormon identity in a ward largely filled with converts. For these members, as we shall see later in chapter three, Utah culture can be a shock to the system. Assimilation also seems easier for those converts who have the western European or Scandinavian features and complexion of the Deseret Mormons. Ethnic Aspects: A View from Without In addition to their own self-awareness, the ethnic aspects of Utah Mormonism are also imposed on the Deseret Mormons by American society at large. Utah and Mormonism are inextricably linked in the minds of many Americans, particularly in areas where Mormons are scarce. The members of the Deseret ward often noted that when they were travelling or talking on the telephone to people outside of Utah, their religion was injected into the conversation in a way that wouldn’t happen to others simply because someone asked where they were from. Nathan, who travels regularly on business recounted: “It’s always the same. They ask, ‘Where are you from?’ and I say, ‘Utah.’ Then they say, ‘Utah? Are you a Mormon?’” Almost all of the members of the Deseret ward (and all of the expatriate Utahns living in the Northeast ward) confirmed Nathan’s observation. 8 One can readily see how Mormonism is perceived as more than a religion by the larger society by substituting the words “Rhode Island” and “Catholic” or “Alabama” and “Baptist.” Indeed, asking “Are you a Mormon?” seems to have the same sort of implication as asking about nationality or ethnicity, and Utah is often perceived as being as more a traditional homeland for Mormons than just another state by others in the U.S. Thus, for the majority of Americans, being a Mormon connotes a more salient religious identity than, for example, being “born again.” Of course, as Nathan points out: 10F

often recruit exclusively within the Mormon church, and are referred to by the media and by other Utahns as “fundamentalist Mormons.” The very term fundamentalist Mormon challenges the distinction between “Mormons” and “members of the church” that Janet made earlier. In spite of her assertion, for the majority of Americans, not all Mormons are members of the LDS church. The fact that these polygamists are descended from the early pioneers that settled the Great Basin, and revere the Book of Mormon as scripture, and believe that Brigham Young was a prophet makes them ethnically and culturally Mormon, even if they are not members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Thus, the notion of a Mormon ethnicity is probably more strongly imposed on Mormons by the nation at large than it is perceived by Utah Mormons themselves. Thus, in spite of a huge membership boom in diverse regions of the nation and globe, Mormons are still associated strongly with Utah, and are still perceived by other US citizens as more unusual and distinctive than fundamentalist Christian groups, or other sects with even stricter lifestyles and ascetic behavioral prohibitions. Iannaccone (1994) provides evidence that between 1979 and 1994 – a period of time in which Mormon church membership doubled, and the church purged a great deal of its doctrinal and regional distinctiveness, the perception of Mormon peculiarity did not wane, despite the fact that Mormon household income, occupational prestige, educational levels and urbanization became increasingly like the rest of the nation (Mauss 1994). It is the ethnic factor—known from within and imposed from without—that enhances Mormon religious identity. In sum, the members of the Deseret ward and other Mormons in Utah have a corporately held identity based on their lineage and heritage that is distinct even from the identity of most converts to the church. It is an identity that interfaces with the official church, but neither wholly proceeds from it nor wholly depends on it for existence. For many Mormons, there is little separation between the notion of being descended from the pioneers—a quasi-ethnic identity—and being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For this reason, Utah Mormon identity is often compared with Jewish identity (Mauss 1994). This contrasts sharply with Mormon identity in the mission field, to which we now turn.

The next question out of their mouths is ‘How many wives do you have?’ or ‘Aren’t you the ones that have more than one wife.’ It’s crazy. They haven’t had polygamy in 100 years and everyone still thinks that the church condones it. I don’t know where they get the idea.

The idea, of course, comes from the fact that perhaps as many as 50,000 people in Utah and the Intermountain West still practice polygamy (Altman and Ginat 1996; Bradley 1993), and almost all are members of religious groups that broke off from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Shields 1990). Moreover, these groups 8 Similarly, non-Mormons in Utah report that they are often associated with the church based solely on the fact that they live in Utah. Many often answer the question “Where are you from?” with something akin to “I’m from Utah, but I’m not a Mormon.”

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Chapter Three: Mormon Identity in the Mission Field The Deseret Mormons have a religious identity rooted in a rich pioneer heritage and strong kin ties within the faith. However, as the 21st century commences, the typical American Mormon does not have extended family networks in the church. The typical American Mormon does not have ancestors that practiced polygamy or crossed the plains for their faith, and the typical American Mormon does not live in Utah. Since the command to gather to Utah was lifted, Mormon wards have proliferated outside Utah. As the missionary program gathered steam, converts began to join the church by the thousands and the demographic character of American Mormonism began to change. The year 1960 was a watershed year for the church, as it was the first year that the church gained more members through convert baptisms than through adding “children of record”—as children born to Mormon parents are called (Shipps 1994b) Since 1960 this gap has widened and children of record now account for a small percentage of the growth within Mormonism (Shipps 1994b). As convert baptisms in the rest of the nation have sharply risen, Utah’s share of American Mormons has fallen considerably, and converts to the faith outside of the Mormon Culture Region now constitute the majority of church members in the nation (Bennion 1995). This shift has had a profound effect on Mormons and their congregations, and leading historians of Mormonism assert that there is a distinction between Mormon life in the mission field and Mormon life in Utah (Shipps, May and May 1994). This chapter considers Mormon identity in mission field congregations by examining the construction and maintenance of religious identity in the Northeast ward. Converts in Babylon The Northeast ward lies west of the Hudson River in the New Jersey suburbs of New York City. New Jersey is 49th among states in per capita Mormons, and Mormons constitute a mere .3% of the state’s population. The average citizen in the area knows little about Mormons and Mormonism, and has had little or no contact with the church. The Northeast ward is largely populated with 1st generation converts to the faith, most from the local area. In the U.S. East generally, converts outnumber members born in the faith by a five to one margin (Heaton 1998). This is exactly the inverse of the ratio in Utah. Moreover, the majority of the Mormons in the Northeast ward have less than five years’ experience in the church. The bishop, for instance, has been a member only five years himself. In addition to local converts, there are a number of 32

families from the Mormon Culture Region who have moved to the area. Most of these Mormons are highly educated and have prestigious occupations, and have relocated to the region to take advantage of the economic boom of the late 90s and the tremendous opportunities that the nation’s largest city offers. New York City (and the East in general) is not a place where Mormons desire to relocate (at least according to the members of the Deseret ward), and most of these expatriate Deseret Mormons told me that they plan to return to the West when they have established their careers, or amassed sufficient wealth. There are also two prominent universities within the boundaries of the Northeast ward, and a handful of students from the Mormon Culture Region attend them while working toward graduate and professional degrees. These students are also eager to take their prestigious Eastern degrees back West with them when they finish school. However, Mormons from the Mormon Culture Region constitute only about a quarter of the adults in the Northeast ward, and for the most part, the lay positions in the ward are staffed by converts to Mormonism. In fact, many positions of responsibility within the lay clergy are held by converts with only a year or so of church experience. Though the programs of the church and the content of church meetings in the Deseret and Northeast wards are structurally identical, the social context of the Northeast ward produces a very different, yet equally salient, Mormon identity. The following sections deal with the elements of this unique religious identity. The Mormon Minority While Mormon identity in the Deseret ward is shaped by being a member of the majority, Mormons in the Northeast ward construct their identity around the fact that they are a tiny minority religion in a highly pluralistic, secularized metropolitan area. For these Mormons, living the distinctive demands of Mormonism truly sets them apart from the dominant culture, and provides a means for them to distinguish themselves from the societal mainstream. The bishop of the Northeast ward explains: What sets us apart is the fact that we take a stand. In a world of situational morality, we are people with moral absolutes. The more the world changes, the more we’ll stay the same. The more the wicked the world becomes, the more righteous we will be by comparison. The Lord calls his followers peculiar people. 1 We don’t partake of the ways of the world. We are in the world but not of the world. 2 11F

12F

Such a statement flies in the face of the ideas of secularization theorists in the sociology of religion. According to these thinkers, the ethnic and cultural heterogeneity, geographic mobility, and religious pluralism that typify the modern metropolis eats away at religious communities and provide opportunities for members of distinctive religious faiths to move from their traditional enclaves, associate with people unlike themselves, switch religions, and question the tenets of their faith (Berger 1967). This, in turn, erodes the salience of their religious identity. According to secularization theory,

1

The phrase “peculiar people” is from the King James Version of the Bible, Deuteronomy 14:2. The phrase is often invoked by Mormons to refer to their status as a chosen people. “In the world but not of the world” is a common phrase used by Mormons to describe their place in the larger society.

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religious enclaves produce stronger religious identities, because religionists in enclaves are shielded from the erosive forces of secular society (Bruce 1996). Of course, sociologists were not the only ones to hold this opinion. Brigham Young himself espoused this view. Young went to extraordinary lengths to ensure that Mormon society was wholly separate from gentile society, as he felt it was essential for maintaining the Mormon way of life, and by implication, Mormon identity (Arrington 1986). However, recent sociological findings, and the current vitality of Mormonism in the midst of “Babylon” demonstrate that most sociologists, as well as Brigham Young, may have overstated the importance of social isolation for the building of strong religious identities. Few would doubt that religious enclaves can produce salient religious identities, but it is now evident that such enclaves are not necessary for fashioning strong collective religious identities, and the idea that the pluralism that typifies the modern age weakens religious identity has been largely discredited (Stark and Finke 2000a). In an important study of Evangelical identity, for instance, Christian Smith asserts that being a distinctive, religious minority in the midst of a pluralistic, secular culture is an important element of Evangelical identity (Smith 1998). Smith argues that by emphasizing their ideological differences with the larger society and constructing religious traditions that celebrate resisting assimilation into that society, Evangelicals are able to provide the symbolic boundaries necessary to construct a salient religious identity that separates them, not physically, but morally, from their neighbors, co-workers and sometimes even their families (Smith 1998). The pluralism that characterizes the modern age facilitates this process by “providing a diversity and abundance of ideological and cultural outgroups. In relation to these, religious groups . . . may more readily construct meaningful distinction through symbolic boundaries that strengthen their morally orienting collective identities” (Smith 1998:97) Based on this, Smith argues that “the evangelical movement’s vitality is not a product of its protected isolation from, but of its vigorous engagement with pluralistic modernity” (Smith 1998:89). The Mormons in the Northeast ward exemplify what Smith describes. Being outside the cultural mainstream and perceiving themselves as being “in the world but not of it” is an indispensable component of Mormon identity in New Jersey. This is very different from the situation in Utah, and Lou, a member of the Northeast ward and a convert of six years, succinctly sums up the distinction by saying: “As Mormons we are different from everybody else. That’s what makes us Mormons.” He also points out the difference between Utah Mormon identity and the identity of converts in the Northeast ward when he avers: I’d hate to live in Utah. I mean, I know it is where most Mormons live, but what is the point? How would you set a good example in Utah. I can’t imagine living there. I wouldn’t feel like I stood for anything. The Lord’s people are supposed to stand for something, and there you would just be a face in the crowd.

Belonging to a group that defines itself against the larger society is part of what makes Mormonism attractive to Lou, and for many other members of the Northeast ward. To be sure, Mormons in Utah also perceive of themselves as being set apart from the national culture, but being a member of an insular subculture outside the larger,

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cultural mainstream is far different than being totally immersed in that cultural mainstream on a day to day basis. For instance, as Wilma, a recent convert to Mormonism living in the Northeast ward explains: I always think to myself as I go about my day that people will judge the church by my actions. I’m the only Mormon at my work, and so whatever impressions people have of the church, they are going to be based on the impressions that they have of me. I’m an ambassador for the church every day.

Interestingly, Deseret Mormons tend to make statements similar to this one when they talk about how they feel when they are travelling outside of Utah, but these sentiments make no sense for Mormons within the confines of the Zion Curtain. In sum, the notion of being immersed in, yet separate from, the larger society is the single most important feature of Mormon identity in the Northeast ward. This symbolic separateness is both sustained and produced by two important elements of the ward’s culture, namely, the construction of symbolic boundaries to differentiate themselves from mainstream culture, and the development of kin-like social relationships within the ward. These two aspects of life within the Northeast ward sustain Mormon identity in the same way that a regional subculture and actual kin ties within the church buttress Mormon identity in Utah. Boundary Maintenance in the Northeast Ward In the Northeast ward, Mormon identity is not bolstered by living in a mythologized homeland where one is a member of the religious and cultural majority. Moreover, the members of this ward are not a homogeneous group with an identifiable “look.” The members of the Northeast ward are very ethnically diverse, including several immigrant families from Asia and Eastern Europe, and a substantial number of Latino/a and African American members. In addition to their heterogeneity, the members of the Northeast ward do not wear crosses or other identifying jewelry, and they lack distinctive clothing and hairstyles to set them apart. How then, do they distinguish themselves from the larger society and construct the symbolic boundaries that separate them from the cultural mainstream? Paul, a member of the Northeast ward, explains: “We are separated by lifestyle. We live lives that are so different, that within a matter of minutes you can tell that we are not the same as everybody else around us.” Thus, while they lack the common heritage, shared homeland and ethnic homogeneity that separates Mormons from gentiles in Utah, the members of the Northeast ward are able to compensate for this by exhibiting a very high degree of behavioral homogeneity. Behavioral identity markers, rather than subcultural and ethnic ones, provide the primary boundaries that sustain Mormon identity in the mission field. As subsequent chapters will demonstrate, there is much less variation in the behavior of active Mormons in the Northeast ward than in the Deseret ward. LDS leaders and the programs of the church emphasize the use of behavior and lifestyle to mark the difference between Mormon and non-Mormons, and enforce compliance with church edicts on these matters. Of course, many groups that seek to carve an identity niche by fostering a distinctive lifestyle are active in the area surrounding the Northeast ward and other areas outside Utah. Because of this, the LDS church must provide identity markers that are distinguishable both from the larger society, and from 35

other, similar religious groups. For the members of the Northeast ward, the most important of these markers is what Mormons call the Word of Wisdom. The Word of Wisdom The Word of Wisdom is the Mormon health code that is loosely based on Section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants, a book of Mormon scripture. In its original form, the Word of Wisdom advises church members to avoid alcohol, “hot drinks”, and tobacco. It also encourages them to eat meat sparingly. The Word of Wisdom was not originally intended to be a commandment for church members, but rather a piece of advice that, if followed, would provide them with “health in their navel and marrow to their bones” (Doctrine and Covenants 89). Among members of the church in the 19th century, the Word of Wisdom was neither heavily emphasized, nor widely followed. In early Utah, the use of tobacco and alcohol was common even among leaders in the highest echelons of the church hierarchy (Quinn 1997). Indeed, Daniel Wells, one of Brigham Young’s counselors in the First Presidency, asserted that keeping the Word of Wisdom would entitle one to blessings, but if ignored, it would not count against one in the next life (Quinn 1997:768). Thus, in early Utah the Word of Wisdom was not a device to help sustain Mormon identity, but merely a piece of advice for members of the church. However, as the 20th century dawned, the Word of Wisdom began to assume a more important role within the church. Several scholars have noted that the demise of polygamy and the acceleration of gentile migration into the new state of Utah forced the Saints to look for new ways to distinguish themselves from the larger culture, and set boundaries between themselves and their gentile neighbors. This role was once served by the practice of polygamy, but with polygamy gone, the church turned to the Word of Wisdom (Davies 1996). Although church leaders had called for compliance with the Word of Wisdom at various times in Utah history, the church did not begin to strongly insist on compliance until the first decade of the 20th century. By 1921, keeping the Word of Wisdom became a requirement for entering the temple, and in time the members of the church began to see the doctrine as a commandment, rather than an advisement (Alexander 1986:201). As the Mormon diaspora began in earnest in the years immediately after this change, and wards began springing up outside Utah, the Word of Wisdom became the most important way for Mormons to distinguish themselves from their neighbors (Davies 1996). Today, compliance with the Word of Wisdom is de rigueur in Utah. Those Deseret Mormons who ignore the doctrine can still sometimes lay credible claim to a Mormon identity based on their pioneer ancestry and upbringing within the church, but Deseret Mormons who violate the Word of Wisdom are always considered Jack Mormons. For converts in the Northeast ward, compliance with the Word of Wisdom is essential in order for one to claim a Mormon identity. The Word of Wisdom as it is practiced within modern Mormonism bears little resemblance to the advice given in the Doctrine and Covenants. For example, the advice to eat meat sparingly—contained in the text of the revelation—is ignored. Further, while the prohibitions against alcohol and tobacco are clear and are taken literally, the prohibition against “hot drinks” is usually interpreted as either a prohibition against coffee and tea, or a general prohibition against caffeine. Hence, even decaffeinated coffee is generally regarded as a violation of the Word of Wisdom among Mormons. 36

Similarly, among the very devout, soft drinks with caffeine are also considered a violation, as is iced tea, which also contains caffeine. However, there are some exceptions that violate both interpretations of the “hot drink” prohibition, and thus reveal that the primary duty of the Word of Wisdom is boundary maintenance—not health maintenance. For instance, herbal teas which do not contain caffeine are generally considered within the guideline even though they are hot drinks. By the same token, hot chocolate, which contains caffeine, and is explicitly a “hot drink” is not only allowed, but is served regularly at church activities. This inconsistency does not elude Mormons, and quips about the conundrum of hot chocolate is a running gag that usually comes up any time it is served at church functions. Of course, hot chocolate and herbal tea are only problematic when Mormons attempt to find a consistent, logical reason for the prohibitions imposed by the Word of Wisdom. However, when the Word of Wisdom is viewed solely as an identity marker and a way to maintain group boundaries, the inconsistencies become irrelevant. When pressed, most Mormons cannot explain why this or that substance is prohibited, but they do know what they can and cannot drink. Moreover, the interpretation of the “hot drinks” element of the Word of Wisdom is very important with respect to maintaining a distinctive Mormon identity, as many Christian groups which also prohibit alcohol and tobacco are active in the area surrounding the Northeast ward. Given this, this section of the Word of Wisdom not only distinguishes Mormons from the cultural mainstream, but from other conservative religious groups. Indeed, in the Northeast ward, abstinence from coffee was an essential way that ward members marked the difference between themselves and their neighbors. The Stigma of Mormonism The Word of Wisdom and the distinctive lifestyle imposed on the members of the Northeast ward helps strengthen their religious identity in other ways as well. While Mormons have gained acceptance and respect from the larger society in some quarters (particularly among cultural conservatives), Mormons are still regarded by many as a deviant religious group. In the New York City area, many people perceive Mormonism to be a cult, and have a very low opinion of the church. Thus, in addition to becoming a member of a small minority church, converting to Mormonism in New Jersey means, in many ways, that one must assume a stigmatized identity. Members of the Northeast ward are acutely aware of the fact that Mormonism is seen in a negative light by much of the larger society. Yet rather than weaken the ward, the stigma attached to Mormonism serves to strengthen it. First, the fact that the group is stigmatized screens out those with weak religious commitment, since only those with strong belief in the church will choose to endure the stigma. This raises the mean level of religiosity in the ward. In addition, sociologists have long known that persecution from without often serves to strengthen the solidarity of the stigmatized group (Bruce 1996). Moreover, being stigmatized and persecuted is part of the historical legacy of Mormonism, and Mormons in the Northeast ward frequently noted that being stigmatized is one of the essential costs of membership in the true religion. Stan explains: Look at the way that the early followers of Jesus were treated. Look at the persecutions the church faced under the prophet Joseph Smith. If this church had no enemy then 37

you would know for sure that it isn’t God’s church, because Satan is God’s enemy. Satan does the best he can to make things difficult.

Part of the stigma attached to Mormonism comes from the strange practices of the church, and members of the Northeast ward must often explain why they won’t drink coffee or tea, or why they won’t attend certain movies or wear shorts in the summer. By contrast, Mormons in the Deseret ward express concern about the church’s image, but the overall negative impressions that many people in the nation have of Mormonism does not affect their daily lives in the way that their New Jersey counterparts are affected. More importantly, the religious practices of Mormonism are not exotic or deviant in Utah, and one is not marked as deviant for adhering to these practices. In fact, as chapter six will demonstrate, many of the religious practices that are deviant in American society generally are normative in Utah. Derrick, who moved to the Northeast ward from southern Utah to attend law school, explains the difference: It’s quite a switch. When I go to the gym here and I see people I know and I’m putting on my garments as I’m getting dressed, I feel uncomfortable because I’m wearing funny underwear. I don’t want anyone to ask me what’s up with my underwear. Now in [Utah] if I was getting dressed and didn’t put on garments and someone I know saw—that would be bad too. Here I have anxiety about people seeing my garments, there I would have anxiety about being seen without them.

Derrick’s insight helps clarify an essential difference between Mormon identity in New Jersey vs. Utah. The same is certainly true for other religious groups as well. For instance, Arab women who wear traditional Muslim attire do so as an expression of their religious identity. However, the reactions of the larger culture to this clothing in Saudi Arabia vs. Saint Louis must necessarily affect the religious identity of the wearer in very different ways. Fictive Kin The distinctiveness of Mormonism and the negative image of the church in many segments of the larger society often makes it difficult for Mormons in the Northeast ward to make and sustain meaningful friendships with people outside the Mormon faith. For this reason, ward members tend to stick together and associate with one another. By so doing, they produce collective sentiments that reaffirm their belief that the Mormon way, although sometimes hard, is the right way. In time, this close social interaction and distinctive lifestyle causes members of the Northeast ward to congeal into a sort of quasi-family group. Thus, while they lack actual kinship ties to anchor their religious identity like the Deseret Mormons, they are able to compensate by constructing an unusually strong solidarity among themselves. Many members of the Northeast ward compared this bond to the bonds of kinship. Calling the ward a “family” and equating ward members with family members is a common theme among them. Anthropologists call such social relations “fictive kin,” a term describing groups of people who are not related by blood or marriage but who nevertheless have a level of social solidarity that resembles kinship ties. These quasi-kin ties among the members of the Northeast ward are strengthened by the fact that many of them do not have strong ties to their own family, or have few 38

strong social ties of other kinds in the region. Many, in fact, describe themselves as social misfits who found a home within the ward. This depiction is in harmony with many studies of people who convert to cults and sects. A number of scholars have found that those who are most susceptible to changing religions tend to be those that have few strong social attachments (Stark and Finke 2000a). People who have recently moved, for instance, are much more apt to change religions than people who have remained in their home towns because they have fewer social ties in a new area, and hence give up much less when they join a demanding, stigmatized religious movement (Stark and Finke 2000a). A surprising number of the new converts to the Northeast ward fit this bill. Some of them are recent immigrants, and many more are fairly new to the area. More single people than married people convert, and more women than men converted while I was studying the Northeast ward. I also noted that a recent divorce was a common feature among several of the women who joined. Thus, the members of the Northeast ward tend to be fairly rootless and unattached to begin with. Not only are they then free to make new relationships with their new co-religionists, but many of them are hungry for a sense of belonging that they lack. Many members of the Northeast ward cited the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that the ward offers as their initial motivation for joining the church. The closeness that the members of the ward “family” feel toward one another translates into their behavior. In the Northeast ward, core members of the congregation sometimes walked into each others’ houses without knocking. They often opened the refrigerator for a drink or snack without asking. They also occasionally disciplined each other’s children, and other things that are typically reserved for family. This sense of family in the ward is enhanced by the fact that Mormons call each other “brother” or “sister,” but these terms have an almost literal feel in the Northeast ward, where the members rely upon one another much more heavily than in the Deseret ward. Indeed, members of the Deseret ward who had lived for a time in the mission field agreed that mission field wards foster closer relationships between their members than Utah wards, and that the ward assumes many family functions when one has no LDS relatives around. Sometimes the bond between ward members even supplants the family bond. Among members of the Northeast ward, several mentioned that they had stronger relationships with other ward members than with non-LDS members of their own families. Mary stated: We are like a family with a real family atmosphere. I feel more comfortable with the people in the ward than I do with my own family. I don’t let my kids play at my brother’s house, because they keep liquor in the house and sometimes take the Lord’s name in vain. I don’t want them to watch the television unless I know what they’re watching. My brother can’t understand this at all. So in that way, I’m closer to the members of the ward than my own brother because they do understand.

The rituals of Mormonism in the Northeast ward often serve to strengthen these fictive kin bonds at the expense of a new convert’s blood relatives. For instance, when babies are a few weeks old, there are given a blessing in front of the congregation in which fathers announce the child’s name as it will appear on the rolls of the church and say a prayer for the child. During the blessing, a prayer circle of Melchizedek priesthood 39

holders lay their hands upon the infant. Since most of the members of the Northeast ward are converts with little or no kin in the church, they generally called upon friends in the ward to stand in the prayer circle, often while their non-LDS family members sat in the congregation as visitors. In the Deseret ward things work in the opposite way. There, visiting LDS family members lay hands upon the child while close friends from the ward watch from the congregation. This privileging of ward relationships over family ties in the Northeast ward is also noticeable when it comes to marriage in a Mormon temple. Recall that only members in good standing with temple recommends can enter the temple, and thus the non-LDS parents and siblings of converts to Mormonism cannot attend the ceremony. Given the symbolic importance of weddings, conflicts within the family over temple weddings are common. Patsy, a new convert to the ward who married Mike (also a new convert) explains:

One particularly volatile situation that occurs with frequency in the Northeast ward is the conversion of one spouse to Mormonism while the other spouse decides not to join. Sociologist Rodney Stark has argued that interfaith marriages are a prime source of converts for new religious movements, and notes that husbands often convert after

their wives and vice versa. Stark argues that this is a principal way that fledgling Christianity in the 1st century was able to emerge as a new world religion in so little time (Stark 1996b). While it is certainly the case that many people eventually follow their spouse into Mormonism, Stark may be overstating the case and ignoring another side of the phenomenon. During my fieldwork in the Northeast ward, I noted that the conversion of one spouse without the other often resulted in an enormous strain on the marriage. The pressure placed on the non-Mormon spouse to convert is often tremendous, but sometimes to no avail. Often, the non-Mormon spouse never converts, leading to what Mormons call “part member families.” Such marriages are very undesirable among Mormons. Indeed, studies of interfaith marriages in many Christian denominations show that interfaith couples have lower rates of religious activity than those who share the same religion, and are much more likely to divorce than married people who share the same faith (Sherkat and Ellison 1999). This seems to be the case within Mormonism as well. In addition, there are theological bases for the undesirability of part-member marriages. Within Mormonism, only people whose marriage is sealed in the temple are eligible to inherit the highest realms of Mormon heaven—and non-LDS spouses are unable to attend the temple. Thus, marrying outside the faith can limit one’s rewards in the hereafter. Until recently in the church, women whose husbands were not church members were prohibited from entering the temple to receive their temple endowment. Men in the church can receive their endowment at any time after they receive the Melchizedek priesthood, but women have traditionally been required to wait until just before their wedding. This meant that Mormon men with non-LDS wives could take out their endowments, but not the other way around. Given the number of women joining the church who are either single or married to a non-Mormon, this inequity became a big problem for church leaders. In 1980s, however, the rule was changed and single women and those whose spouses are not Mormons are now able to attend the temple even if they are not getting married. In addition, the fact that more women join the church than men (Heaton 1998), and the growth of the church in the mission field has prompted the church to soften its stance on part-member families. While marriage within the church is still strongly preferred, church leaders acknowledge that sometimes spouses will not convert, and marriage to a non-Mormon is sometimes inevitable. Often, the non-LDS spouse (usually the husband) in a part member marriage does eventually convert to Mormonism. Sometimes, however, this is only to appease his or her Mormon partner, and not because the converting spouse has a strong commitment to the church. This situation is a common one in the Northeast ward, and such “conversions” can cause bitter conflict within a marriage. The problem arises when the newly “converted” spouse discovers how demanding the LDS church can be, and how difficult it is to maintain a Mormon lifestyle. Indeed, the stringent demands of the church are designed precisely to weed out those with weak belief and marginal commitment, and those who join simply to appease their spouse are typically unable to make the necessary effort to integrate into a congregation like the Northeast ward. The example of Tamara is instructive. Tamara was converted to Mormonism by her co-worker, a Utah Mormon who moved to New Jersey from Salt Lake City to take a new job. She immediately integrated into the congregation and became a permanent fixture at the meeting house. Her new husband, to whom she had been married less

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None of my family members was there to see me married. My mother could not understand why she couldn’t be at her own daughter’s wedding. She said, “What kind of a church doesn’t allow a mother to see her daughter get married.” To this day I don’t think she has recovered. It made the months leading up to my marriage into a living hell. It tore my family apart. They didn’t pay for a reception. My dad said that if they can’t be at the wedding they won’t pay for the reception.

Nevertheless, Mike and Patsy’s wedding, which was attended by all of her best friends from the ward, was a happy occasion, and after the couple returned from their honeymoon the members of the ward chipped in to hold a small reception for them at the church where everyone came to congratulate them. Her family did not attend. A few months later, when I asked Patsy how she felt about the fact that her family did not participate at all in her wedding or reception, she responded simply, “For me, the gospel is my new family. Blood may be thicker than water, but the gospel is thicker than blood.” Thus, the distance that had been created between Patsy and her family was compensated for by the increasing closeness between her and the congregation. By the time I ended my research, Mike and Patsy were among the core members of the Northeast ward, well on their way to positions of leadership and responsibility within the church. Not surprisingly, new prospective converts who are planning to convert to Mormonism are often discouraged from doing so by their parents and other family members. As family members see the person loosening their ties to family and strengthening their ties to the church, they often make many attempts to convince the person not to convert. Before she was married, for example, Patsy’s parents offered to pay for her to go to cosmetology school in California in an effort to separate her from the Mormons. Others converts in the Northeast ward recounted similar (although not as drastic) experiences. Part Member Families

than a year, loved his wife but was not interested in the church. After about a year, however, he gave in to her unrelenting requests and was baptized into the church. However, he was simply unable to contribute the time and energy that the Northeast ward expects from its members. He could not manage to quit smoking, and he had great difficulty getting out of bed for church on Sunday mornings—his only day off work. Not long after his baptism, he stopped attending church. Shortly after that, Tamara left him and filed for divorce. This was, according to members of the Northeast ward, not the first time this situation had happened in the ward, and this is not an uncommon scenario in mission field wards. The LDS church officially frowns on divorce, but it places no real restrictions on divorced people marrying again. In the instance of Tamara and her husband, the members of the Northeast ward not only tolerated her decision to divorce, they openly condoned it and, in subtle ways, helped bring it about. After Tamara’s divorce was final, several members of the Northeast ward told me that she was better off this way, and would be much happier finding a man that was strong in the church. Thus, despite its overall image as a church that is centered on strengthening marriages and families, the LDS church and its members can sometimes tear marriages and families apart. Inactive Mormons in New Jersey In Utah, as we have seen, many Mormons are able to maintain a strong Mormon identity even though they never attend church. This is because Mormon identity is not based solely on interfacing with the official church, but also on kinship, neighborhood, and quasi-ethnic social ties. However, the situation for those who are inactive in the Northeast ward is very different. Because they lack kin ties in the church and live in an area where there are few Mormons with whom to interact, establishing and maintaining a Mormon identity can only be done through participation in the programs of the LDS church. Unlike the situation in Utah, those “members” of the Northeast ward who are completely inactive, yet remain on the ward’s roster, have little or no sense of Mormon identity, and show very few (or none) of the characteristics that distinguish Mormons from the larger culture. Marvin, for instance, was active in the Northeast ward for a time but left the church when he met a Catholic woman at work. When I interviewed him, he did not know who the current LDS prophet was. “When I stopped going to church,” he told me, “the prophet was Ezra Taft Benson.” 3 Marvin also had no idea who the bishop of the Northeast ward was, and remembered the names of only a few of the ward members. There were literally dozens of members like Marvin on the Northeast ward’s rolls. As Hank, the a member of the bishopric in the Northeast ward, told me, “There are a lot of people on the ward roster who used to be active that no one has really seen in years and years.” Such a situation, even among the most inactive of members, is unlikely in Utah. Since ward and neighborhood boundaries are coterminous, even the most inactive members know who is moving in and out of the ward, have contact with ward members on a regular basis, and know who is serving as ward bishop. Moreover, since the activities of church leaders are broadcast on the evening news, even non-Mormons in 13 F

Utah know the name of the current prophet. Thus, simply living in Utah makes the church impossible to escape, and even the most inactive members of the Deseret ward were aware of major events in the ward and current developments in the church. Convert Identity and the Specter of Utah Recall that studies examining migration in and out of Utah show that less active Mormons are more likely than active Mormons to leave the state (Kontuly, Smith and Heaton 1995). Within the boundaries of the Northeast ward, there were several families who had moved from Utah, and once they were well away from the Mormon subculture, their activity levels dropped and they left the church. According to the Northeast ward’s membership clerk, “A lot of people move out here from Utah and just disappear.” The reason why this is so is discussed in chapter six. However, there are circumstances that prompt very committed and active Mormons to move from Utah. Chief among these are education and career opportunities that are not available in Utah. Given its proximity to New York City, the Northeast ward offers a great deal of opportunity to those who move within the ward boundary, and members who have moved out from Utah to take advantage of these opportunities constitute a substantial minority of the ward. The vast majority of these Utah Mormons say that they plan to move back to the West when they have finished their degrees or amassed sufficient wealth or job experience. Indeed, their attachments to Utah and the West, and their stated intention to move back is a running joke among them, and they refer to themselves and others in their situation as being on “the five year plan.” Most of these Deseret Mormons are young married couples, or couples with pre-teen children. Young Mormon couples in Utah are often advised by parents and church leaders that living for a short while in the mission field can be a good thing. For one thing, it allows the couple to obtain valuable work experience and provides economic and educational opportunities that may not be available in Utah. Besides jump starting a career, it also allows young Mormons—especially men—the chance to hold leadership positions within the ward that are difficult to obtain in Utah, where there is a glut of Melchizedek priesthood holders. In Utah wards, competition for positions of distinction within the lay clergy can be keen, but most mission field wards, especially in the Northeast, tend to be short on faithful church members to fill important jobs within the congregation. Thus, by moving to a place where priesthood members are in short supply, a Utah Mormon man can serve as a member of the bishopric or as elder’s quorum president at a much younger age than if he had remained in Utah. When the couple or young family returns to Utah or the West—which is typically the expectation (Sorenson 1997)—not only do they benefit from prestigious degrees and/or valuable job experience, they also have church experience that provides a leg up on positions of importance within Utah wards. Many of the Utah Mormons in the Northeast ward were in this situation, and almost all admitted that they were planning to move back to the West when they had accomplished their goals. One reason why they return is to be near their kin once again, but there is also widespread belief among Utah Mormons that children raised in Utah are more likely to serve missions, marry within the faith, and remain active in the church. (This belief, as it happens, is well founded, as we shall see in chapter six.)

3

Benson, 13th prophet of the LDS church, died in 1994. The prophet at the time of this writing, Gordon B. Hinckley, is the 15th prophet of the church, and assumed the mantle on March 12, 1995.

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Mormon Identities in Conflict

members of the ward by talking about the institutional history of the LDS church and its programs. Thelma, a recent convert, explains:

When Utah Mormons leave the Mormon Culture Region they immediately become members of a small minority religion, and Utah Saints who move to the Northeast ward often quickly assume many of the features of the convert identity discussed above. However, these features are added to the other aspects of their Deseret Mormon identity, and these remain central to their ideas about what makes them Mormon as well. Indeed, there are very noticeable differences between the expatriate Utah Saints and the converts in the Northeast ward, and these differences often create conflict within the ward. Some of this conflict is due to the fact that the Utah Saints are usually better off financially and are generally more highly educated than their New Jersey counterparts. Other aspects of the conflict, however, have to do with differences in the way the Utah Saints view Mormonism, and the way they assert their Mormon identity within the ward. As Bennion and Young (1996:31) point out, “Within the United States, Saints outside the Intermountain West often refer to ‘Utah Mormons’ as a group apart, viewing them as somewhat smug, provincial, or simply not sensitive enough to the needs of members living on the periphery.” Historian Jan Shipps (1994a:80) notes that the different religious socialization of those born in the faith vs. those who convert leads to a “caste system within the [ward] community.” According to Shipps, Mormons who are born in the faith “often come to believe they are superior to those who are simply Saints by consent” (1994a:80). Whether the expatriate Utahns in the Northeast ward considered themselves to be superior is open to debate, but they clearly believed that they were “more Mormon” than their New Jersey counterparts, and converts in the Northeast ward were frequently offended by the manifestations of this belief. For instance, expatriate Utahns spoke wistfully of the LDS bookstores, Mormon theater productions, and other cultural amenities that were available to church members in Utah. They frequently spoke of how nice it was to have a temple down the street (at the time of this writing, the nearest temple to the Northeast ward was in Washington, D.C.), how convenient it was to have the semi-annual LDS general conference meetings broadcast over network television, and how easy it was to live in a ward that was less than a square mile in area. In short, most of the expatriate Utahns in the Northeast ward spoke often of how much more they liked the church and its programs in Utah. As Richard, who moved from Salt Lake City to attend graduate school, points out: “For all intents and purposes, the church does not really exist outside the West. This ward is essentially an outpost, and until the church reaches sufficient size in the area, it will operate like an outpost.” The Utah Saints in the Northeast ward also attached substantial significance to the fact that they were raised in the church. Since many of the converts in the Northeast ward joined the congregation as adults, they did not have the experience of being socialized within the church and participating in the various church programs designed for children and youth. For the Utah Saints, being raised in the church was inextricably tied to their reverence for their pioneer heritage, and they often referred to this legacy as a definitive characteristic of Mormon identity. Utah Saints often invoked their heritage in Sunday school classes and other meetings, and used their family history as a way to assert their authority in these situations. This always chafed the converts in the Northeast ward, and made them defensive and sometimes resentful. Utah Saints also annoyed local

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They [Utah Mormons] are always pointing out how much they know about the church. They say, “Oh this program used to be called this,” or “when I was a little girl it was done that way.” If you say one thing they launch into a big lecture about how it used to be, and why it’s the way it is now, and how it’s done in Utah. They sometimes act like they’re the boss and it’s your first day on the job.

The Utah Mormons, of course, never mean to be obnoxious or condescending, but their constant habit of pointing out the difference between themselves and the local members often makes the latter act defensive and feel resentful. As Poll (1987:323324) points out, “Neophytes in LDS congregations hundreds of miles from the Wasatch Front still feel a status disadvantage if they have no forebears who crossed the plains for the gospel’s sake.” Conflict between Utah Mormons and local members in the mission field seems to be an inevitable consequence of the LDS church’s expansion (Mauss 1994). Willes (1990:210), for instance, writing about a Minneapolis ward in the 1970s notes a dynamic similar to the one in the Northeast ward. She describes a “polarization between the ‘natives’ and the Utah Mormons” in the ward. Willes describes a clique called the “Westerners club” that divided the ward and promoted animosity between the two groups. Utah Mormons in the Northeast ward were often accused of being cliquish. They were also unpopular among the locals because of their plans to return to Utah as soon as possible. In fact, Utah Saints would often offend local members by saying things like, “I would never dare raise my children out here.” Indeed, the “five year plan” was a sore spot among converts in the ward, particularly the bishop, who noted: People move here from Utah because there is opportunity here. Then, once they have the money they need or the degree they need they go back to Utah. They don’t need priesthood holders in Utah, but we need them here. They take something that is desperately needed here and return to the one place on earth where it isn’t needed. It gets me steamed.

The bishop was particularly “steamed” when Merrill Garrett, a Utah Mormon and important member of the ward, left his tenured position at a major university in the area to teach community college in southern Utah. Garrett took an enormous pay cut, but was concerned that his daughters might begin dating outside the faith. Many of the local members were deeply insulted by Garrett’s departure, and the fact that many of the Utah Saints said they would have done the same added insult to injury. Many of the conflicts between Utah Saints and locals were simply due to the different ideas each group had about what it means to be a Mormon. However, the fact that the Utah Saints typically had a great deal more experience in the church and a more thorough knowledge of Mormon doctrine gave them the upper hand in a number of situations. This perceived advantage was disconcerting to many converts in the ward, and was the source of a great deal of conflict. Major conflicts that erupted during my observation tended to center on three main issues: missionary work, the teaching and promulgating of church doctrine by new converts, and the perception that Utah 45

Mormons received preferential treatment by the leadership of the ward and stake. I consider each of these in turn below. Missionary work New converts are the life blood of the Northeast ward, and hence great emphasis is placed on evangelizing. Most of the Utah Mormon men in the Northeast ward had served a church mission themselves, while most of the local members had joined the church as adults and did not have the opportunity. Members in the Northeast ward are often called upon to assist the missionaries in teaching investigators and looking for prospects. In these situations, most of the men from Utah knew what to expect and what to do. Things were not quite so smooth when the missionaries employed recent converts in the ward to help them out. As Elder Parks, one of the missionaries in the ward and a native of Salt Lake City, explains: People from out West have been on a mission and know what it’s like. They know that some call-backs 4 are flaky and lots of appointments are going to fall through. They know that sometimes you have a lot of call-backs in the ghetto. Whenever we go out with the bishop he gets all mad because our appointments fall through or because we go to the [low income public housing] projects. Anyone who’s been on a mission knows that that is just the way it goes. Sometimes you ride clear across the area for a call-back that you know is flaky. That’s just the way it goes and anyone who’s been [on a mission] knows that. 14 F

Elder Parks sentiments were commonly held among the missionaries, and there was a great deal of conflict between the bishop and the missionaries while I was doing my field work. The bishop did not like the way the missionaries went about their job, and the elders did not respect advice from a ward leader who had not gone on a mission. Doctrinal errors Some of the Utah Saints were also amused by some of the locals who taught lessons in the ward’s various priesthood and Sunday school classes. Because these converts often had only a few years experience in the faith, and because church doctrine is sometimes complex and far different from mainstream Christian doctrine, many of these new teachers made significant errors when explaining the doctrines of the church. In fact, such mistakes were so common that the missionaries (many of whom were from Utah) had a slang term for the errors: “F.D.”—short for “false doctrine.” Kent, a graduate student from Utah, often referred to the doctrinal errors of new converts as “proto-Mormon theology” or “Mormonism lite.” Kent was also fond of quipping, “at least the church is true in the West.”

4

Anytime the missionaries encountered someone going door to door who told them to come back later, that person was recorded as a “call back”. Of course, saying “come back later” is often a polite way of rejecting the missionaries. Nevertheless, the missionaries in the Northeast ward always followed up on these call backs. Not surprisingly, few of these tenuous leads resulted in an opportunity to evangelize.

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Perceived Favoritism in the Ward The most egregious conflicts in the ward, however, revolved around the perception that Utah Mormons were given high positions in the lay clergy over the heads of local members. Within the Northeast ward hierarchy, and particularly at the stake level, the higher in status the position within the lay clergy, the more likely it was to be held by a Mormon from the West. When I completed my fieldwork, for instance, more than half of the stake high council, all three members of the stake presidency and a sizeable percentage of others in prestigious stake and ward callings were Mormons from Utah and the West. Dale, a convert of two years, observed: People in the ward work hard for years as a Primary teacher or something like that, and then someone will move here from Utah and within a month they are in the elder’s quorum presidency, or the bishopric, or the high priest’s group leader. They leapfrog everyone else and I think it is suspicious.

While it is the case that Deseret Mormons are overrepresented in positions of authority within the ward and stake hierarchy, it is not for the reason that Dale suspects. Many leadership positions in the church assume a high level of familiarity with the church’s programs. Some of these positions also involve managing money or property and supervising other ward members. To be effective in many of these jobs, one needs a great deal of experience in the church. Such experience is sorely lacking in the Northeast ward, and thus when a new Melchizedek priesthood holder moves in from the West, his experience is often put to good use in a position of prominence within the ward. Unfortunately, many of the local members, like Dale, simply see a new member of the ward advancing past others in the ward and assuming a position of responsibility within weeks or months of joining the congregation. What they fail to realize is that while they are new to the ward, these members are not new to the church, and most have spent their entire adult lives learning how to function in such lay positions. In fact, if anything, converts in the Northeast ward are allowed to advance much faster than would be the case if they lived in Utah. For instance, the bishop of the Northeast ward was ordained to his calling only five years after receiving the Melchizedek priesthood. Such a situation would be unheard of in Utah. Thus, in spite of the widespread belief that Utah Mormons have the inside track to leadership positions within the ward and stake, they are typically advanced because of their experience within the church and not because of any untoward collusion. The New Mormon Identity Historian Richard Poll may not be fully correct when he asserts that converts in the mission field uniformly feel a status disadvantage compared to Deseret Mormons. Indeed, in the Northeast ward, the converts that had risen to positions of responsibility within the ward often asserted that their approach to Mormonism was superior. The bishop of the Northeast ward explains: A ward like this is the future of the church. This is the kind of situation that you’re finding where the church is taking hold. Here you have to stand on your own two feet, and you have to choose for yourself whether you’re in or out. It’s not easy and it’s not 47

popular. In a ward like this you have to choose to keep the commandments. Whenever someone moves out here from Utah I tell them, “Don’t think this is going to be like Utah.”

Of course, the bishop is correct, and Bahr and Forste (1998:183) observe that “perhaps the Deseret Mormons should be preparing for the wrenching shift in institutional priorities likely to follow their own decline into minority status within the body of the church” Indeed, the bishop of the Northeast ward often noted in his many conversations with me that Utah culture was not Mormon culture, and that the regional subculture in Utah was an impediment to the kind of Mormon lifestyle that the Lord expected of His followers. Most of the converts in the ward who were in positions of leadership or within the ward’s inner circle felt the same way. Greg, the ward’s music director, openly asserted that those living in the mission field were “the true Mormons,” and that Utah Mormonism is “a lower form.” Converts like the bishop and Greg often made negative remarks about Utah and the West, sometimes in front of the Utah Saints themselves. Greg, for instance, often referred to Utah sarcastically as “the land of gumdrops and lollipops.” Some maintained that Utah Mormons were less committed than they, and that many of them were lax in their obedience to church strictures. Of course, many of the Utah Saints were lax by comparison, and ward leaders were often exasperated by semi-active members from Utah who began paying tithing and regularly attending church only when they needed a temple recommend for a family wedding. While such practices are often winked at in Utah, they were not generally tolerated among the converts in the Northeast ward. The locals in the Northeast ward asserted that because their Mormon identity was chosen, it was superior to one that was simply ascribed and taken for granted. This defies the logic of secularization theorists, who assert that what makes religious identities cogent is their ascribed character. However, Christian Smith (1998:104), in his study of American evangelicalism concludes that contemporary Americans “authenticate themselves through personal choice. Therefore, modern religious believers are capable of establishing stronger religious identities and commitments on the basis of individual choice than through ascription.” The converts that had moved to the inner circle of the Northeast ward typified Smith’s sentiments. These converts also attempted, as much as possible, to encourage the Utah Saints to see the church through their lens. In time, some of the Utah Mormons did begin to privilege the aspects of their identity that emerged from membership in a minority faith, and almost all of the expatriate Utahns in the ward acknowledged that living their religion was much harder in New Jersey than in Utah. Nevertheless, nothing could overcome the desire of most Utah Mormons to return home at the first opportunity. Zion’s Siren Song While many of the converts in the Northeast ward display a certain amount of overt disdain for Utah, there is little doubt that the peculiarities of Utah Mormonism and the legacy of the original pioneers are the aspects of the church that stick in the minds of most Americans. Wherever they live, Mormons are considered distinct from mainstream Christians in part because of the regional subculture in Utah that is so strongly 48

associated with Mormonism. I found that even those members of the Northeast ward who are most critical of Utah still visit when they get the chance, and those who have never visited plan to do so soon. The opportunity to visit arises often for the locals in the Northeast ward, because many of them have forged strong friendships with Utahns who moved back to the Mormon Culture Region once they finished school or gained the work experience they needed. Greg, for example, visits the “land of gumdrops and lollipops” every summer, where he stays with former members of the Northeast ward. The bishop as well has close friends in Bountiful and Saint George, Utah. Mormons like Greg and the bishop admit that it is nice to attend sessions in Utah’s stately temples. It is also pleasant to shop a large LDS book store and take advantages of the cultural amenities that Utah has to offer Mormon tourists. When members of the Northeast ward return from Utah they bring back bags filled with LDS merchandise that they couldn’t get anywhere else. (Although the internet is changing this.) In turn, familiarity with Utah and connections with Utahns helps strengthen the authenticity of their Mormon identity, since association with Utah is part of the national image of Mormonism. Still, Greg points out, “I wouldn’t want to live there.” Some, however, do want to live there. Beyond regular visits, a number of locals in the Northeast ward talk of moving to Utah. Sorenson (1997) points out that a large majority of the thousands of newcomers who relocate to Utah each year are Mormons. Bennion (1995) calls the phenomenon “pining for Zion,” and notes that the urge to gather has never subsided within Mormonism. Other studies show that while economic variables largely predict migration within the country, a desire to live among other Mormons is a major reason why people move to Utah (Kontuly, Smith and Heaton 1995). The evidence for this “Mormon aliya” is the fact that while Utah’s population has steadily and rapidly increased, the percentage of the state’s population that is LDS has held constant for over a decade. As Stan, an elderly resident of the Deseret ward points out, “familiarity with Utah is for Mormons what familiarity with Israel is for Jews.” Part of the reason for the attraction is availability of marriage partners within the faith. As was noted earlier, many of the members of the Northeast ward are young and single. For those desiring marriage, relocating to Utah is often a prime objective. For those with teenage children, finding a college for them in Utah was often a priority. Mormons in Utah recognized the need that those in the mission field have for moving to Utah, and often go to great lengths to help new converts relocate. For instance, when Oscar, a recent convert to the church, wanted to move to Utah to find a wife, several Utahns in the Northeast ward used their networks to find him a job and an inexpensive room to rent. Indeed, many Utahns consider it a religious obligation to help new converts gather to Zion. (The fact that Utah’s economy was particularly strong during the years of my research also helped matters.) Some, however, were more cynical about Oscar’s departure, especially after he announced in testimony meeting that, “even though I’ll be in Utah, I’ll still miss all of you.” Raymond, a law student from Utah, remarked: He’s in for a rude awakening. Ever since he [Oscar] was baptized he’s spent every minute helping the missionaries. He’s going to find that missionary work doesn’t have the same meaning in Utah. There isn’t any missionary work to do. New converts in Utah are a dime a dozen. Nothing special at all.

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Raymond’s comment points out that an important element of Mormon identity for converts is feeling special, and that this aspect of a convert’s identity is very difficult to maintain in Utah society. Rather than stand out on the basis of his lifestyle, Oscar will be a part of the mainstream. Raymond is also aware that converts in Utah are often treated as second class citizens in the church, as was noted above. Further, Oscar had relied heavily on the ward as a surrogate family. Since most Mormons in Utah have real kin in the church, the bonds between ward members are not nearly as close as he is used to. Oscar’s departure for Utah confused many of his friends in the Northeast ward. Devon, for instance, had internalized a convert identity, and worried that if he moved to Utah he would not feel set apart from the larger society, but he also worried about his chances to marry in the faith if he stayed in New Jersey. He would often tell me that he couldn’t decide which environment would be better for him. Partly based on our conversations, Devon decided to try moving to either Arizona or the west coast, where Mormons are much more abundant than in New Jersey, but don’t predominate as in Utah. That summer, Devon came out to visit me in Utah where I was doing research in the Deseret ward. While he and I were in the supermarket checkout line, I nonchalantly said to him, “Three out of four people in this market are LDS.” He paused for a long while and then responded simply, “I can’t comprehend that.” Later that night, however, my comment sunk in, and Devon began to think seriously about his chances for marriage within the church. He asked me if I would mind if he cancelled our plans to go camping and sightseeing, and he spent the remainder of his vacation in Utah looking for a job and lining up a place to stay. He returned to New Jersey, tidied up his affairs and was back in Utah before my summer research was over. He married eighteen months later, and continues to live in Utah. Conversely, less than six months after he moved out, Oscar returned. He reported that the church was not the same in Utah, and was shocked to discover active Mormons who attended R-rated movies and used foul language. He was also dismayed at the many inactive Mormons, and the fact that Salt Lake City is beset with all the problems faced by any major urban area. Most of all, he reported that he could not fit in, and that the members of his new ward didn’t appreciate his commitment to the gospel. Oscar’s pilgrimage to Utah highlights the changes in the church with respect to Mormon identity. Oscar had strongly internalized the identity of a mission field convert, and as such, found it impossible to live among the Deseret Mormons.

Chapter Four: The 19th Century Mormon Communal Ethos The Mormon pioneers who crossed the plains for their religion were more than members of an extraordinary sect. They were separatists. The followers of Brigham Young traversed the continent seeking to establish Zion—the literal kingdom of God on earth—in the valley of the Great Salt Lake. In chapter one I demonstrated how isolation in the Great Basin contributed to the construction of a strong religious identity among the Mormons. However, in addition to a strong collective identity, the exigencies of life in the arid desert and virtual isolation from mainstream society necessitated a cooperative ethic and a spirit of community among the Mormons unknown elsewhere in the annals of the American West (Leone 1973; Logue 1988). Mormon solidarity was strengthened by the fact that church and state were fused in the Utah territory, and by the fact that there was no distinction between religious and public norms. This chapter discusses the evolution of the Mormon communal ethos in early Utah, and examines the way that social change, in the form of contact with the larger society and increasing religious pluralism, altered patterns of social solidarity and community within the church. I show how the church’s response to social change actually fueled the expansion of Mormonism, and allowed the church to establish itself outside the Intermountain West. Following this analysis, chapter five demonstrates how this newly transformed conception of Mormon solidarity allows the Northeast ward to construct a cohesive religious community in religiously and culturally pluralistic milieu, while chapter six argues that renewed growth in LDS market share in Utah has prompted the return of many patterns of 19th century Mormon solidarity. Church and State in 19th Century Utah Brigham Young and the Mormon vanguard arrived in the valley of the Great Salt Lake in July of 1847. The goal of these first pioneers and the thousands that would follow in subsequent decades was to build the theocratic kingdom of Zion. Immediately upon arriving in the valley, Young began setting up a government for Zion administered by the Mormon hierarchy and based on the church’s polity. The latter-day Zion was a place where congregation and neighborhood were coterminous, where church and state were consolidated, and where religious and community leaders were synonymous. In the earliest days of the Utah territory, Brigham Young served not only as the president of the church, but also as governor. High government officials in early Utah

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were almost always ranking church leaders who were chosen by Young himself, or other top officials in the hierarchy (Bigler 1998). Before the arrival of significant numbers of gentiles, candidates for government posts in the territory were simply nominated by church leaders, and ran unopposed. When a newly arrived gentile minority began to nominate candidates to run on an opposition ticket, the church organized a political party—dubbed simply the People’s Party—to advance candidates for office. Church members were directed by their leaders to vote for these candidates. Between 1847 and 1874, not a single candidate nominated by Mormon leaders failed to win an election in the territory (Bigler 1998:51). This is not surprising, considering the fact that unanimity in voting was an important norm among early Mormons, and—more importantly—ballots in Utah were not made secret until the late 19th century (Quinn 1997:265). Moreover, voting against a candidate placed on the ballot by the church hierarchy often provoked anger and ostracism from neighbors. Besides having control over government officials, the church also controlled the courts. Mormon ecclesiastical courts did more than just disfellowship those who violated religious standards. Church courts in early Utah could levy fines and impose liens on property (Firmage and Mangrum 1988). Thus, running afoul of an ecclesiastical court could have wide ranging consequences. The lines between church and state were also blurred with respect to the role of church buildings in early Utah. In most early Utah communities, church buildings were placed at the center of town, and, as May (1987:114) notes, “The Mormon meetinghouse was not just the physical center of town. It was also the center of the town’s social life, serving as a schoolhouse, dance hall, public forum and church.” Because there was no distinction in early Utah between church and public buildings, there was also no distinction between the ecclesiastical and civic business that went on inside them. Sacrament meetings in early Utah, for example, were as likely to focus on agriculture or the town budget as they were on Mormon theology (Arrington and Bitton 1992). In fact, extant records show that irrigation and the appropriation of water was an important topic in church meetings, especially since bishops controlled access to this scarce resource (Raber 1985). Finally, the Mormon practice of sending church members on “missions” also reflected the fusion of church and state. Many missions were explicitly to find converts to Mormonism, but one could also be called on a mission to settle an uninhabited valley, or to build a saw mill for a new community (Bigler 1998). Religious and Public Life in Early Utah In early Utah, Mormon pioneers saw the injunction to “build the kingdom of God” in more than just religious terms. For them, tilling their fields and performing community functions were religious obligations that were not seen as distinct in any way from attending church meetings and performing ecclesiastical duties. Thus, in addition to the fusion of church and state, religious and civic norms were also tightly consolidated. Historians know less about how the consolidation of religious and public life affected rank and file Mormons in the 19th century, because most histories of Mormonism are administrative histories and give little attention to patterns of everyday interaction among church members (Arrington and Bitton 1992). However, is it clear that because neighborhood, friendship, kinship and work relationships were subsumed by 52

church networks, there was little distinction between the rules of Mormonism and the rules of public decorum. For Mormons in early Utah, deviance from church edicts could have serious consequences in the community. Dissenters in early Utah were often ostracized and harassed (Bigler 1998). Excommunicated Mormons had their name published in the church newspaper until 1947 (Quinn 1997), which must certainly have caused great hardship for those exposed. In some cases excommunicated members were effectively banished. Indeed, unrepentant apostates and dissident gentiles were often threatened with harm or even death if they did not leave the territory (Bigler 1998). Federal Power, Gentile Influx, and the Secularization of Utah Mormon theocracy and social isolation in Utah was short lived, and the theocratic kingdom of Zion did not survive intact into the 20th century. For their entire history, Mormon separatism had provoked outrage from the larger society. Now, in the Great Basin, the Mormons’ vociferous and sometimes belligerent separatist claims began to receive serious attention from Washington (Arrington and Bitton 1992). Conflict with the federal government, commencing less than a decade after Salt Lake City’s founding, began dissolving Mormonism’s secular power (Shipps, May and May 1994). In 1857, President James Buchanan responded to Mormon separatism and presumed insurrection by sending US Army troops to occupy the Salt Lake Valley and enforce territorial laws. Buchanan also removed Brigham Young as territorial governor in 1858 and replaced him with a non-Mormon appointee (Bailey 1978). Moreover, the scope and power of Mormon ecclesiastical courts was drastically curtailed by Congress in 1874 (Quinn 1997). With the passage of the Poland Act in this year, church courts were relegated to making decisions about religious matters only, and were no longer legally able to impose non-ecclesiastical sanctions (Firmage and Mangrum 1988). Pressure from the federal government continued to escalate until—as the introduction to this book recounts—the Mormons were forced to acquiesce to Washington’s demands by abandoning polygamy, and severing the ties between church and state. Their intentions to submit to federal rule are canonized in the “Manifesto” issued that year by church president Wilford Woodruff. Soon after the Manifesto was sustained by church members, Utah was admitted into the Union. As a show of good faith, Mormon leaders issued a “political manifesto” shortly after Utah’s statehood celebrations which discouraged members of the church’s governing hierarchy from seeking political office without the permission of the First Presidency (Allen and Leonard 1992). This, in effect, ended the LDS church’s overt political domination of Utah. With statehood secured and church and state divided, church leaders inaugurated a program of sustained, purposeful transformation of the church from a separatist sect to a conventional Christian faith (Mauss 1994; Alexander 1986). Arrington and Bitton (1979:251) note that by the turn of the century “the church was, in effect, reoriented to incorporate the standards of social, political and economic behavior imposed by American society.” Indeed, the “Americanization” of Mormonism is a central theme in the burgeoning historiography of the church. The Separation of Religious and Civic Life

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While church and state were disengaging in Utah, religious and civic life began to separate as well. The soldiers dispatched by President Buchanan remained in the territory and constructed a large military encampment named Camp Floyd just south of Salt Lake City. The soldier’s presence ended the Mormons’ isolation, 1 and paved the way for more gentile settlers to take up residence in Utah. Many, for instance, came to the territory to work in the mining industry, and the General who oversaw military affairs in Utah, Patrick Edward Connor, was a staunch advocate of developing mining in Utah (Bailey 1978). Connor believed that an influx of miners from the East would be the principal means of unseating Mormon power in the territory. In addition, the completion of the trans-continental railroad in 1869 made it much easier for merchants, miners and other settlers to emigrate to Utah. By the 1880s, gentiles accounted for over 40% of the territory’s population (Alexander 1996:198), and the influx of non-Mormons began having an effect on social life in the region. For instance, civic offices and public meetings were moved from the LDS meetinghouse to the town hall. In addition, public schools were constructed and the control of educating young people in Utah was transferred from the church to the territorial government (Buchanan 1996). Some LDS schools (called academies) remained, but financial problems within the church caused most of these to close, and thus by the time the 20th century dawned, most Mormon school children were attending secular public schools (Buchanan 1996). As civic functions began to move out of church buildings, the content of church services began to change as well. Discussions of irrigation and water rights were now handled in city council meetings, and church meetings began to focus much more exclusively on religious matters. Moreover, religious activities and meetings, which were once held throughout the week, were increasingly confined to Sunday, as purely secular responsibilities began to consume the weekdays. For instance, Fast and Testimony meetings within the church were once held on the first Thursday of each month. In 1898, when Utah was about 60% LDS, they were moved to the first Sunday of each month, where they remain to this day (Cowan 1985). The practice of calling people on missions to colonize new locales or build public works projects also ceased, and missions were limited to seeking and baptizing new converts to Mormonism. In short, an influx of gentiles and the power of the federal government curtailed the authority of Mormon leaders and limited the scope of the church’s control over its members. Mormon power was slowly being removed from the public arena and increasingly relegated to the realm of religion. To compensate for the compartmentalization of the church’s power and the erosion of traditional Mormon solidarity, the LDS hierarchy began to implement programs to ensure the survival of the Mormon subculture. Most of these programs were meant to impose commercial and moral isolation from the gentiles, since physical isolation was now a thing of the past. For instance, the church discouraged members from joining outside organizations, and encouraged them to socialize within the faith. As early as the Brigham Young’s era, Mormons were urged by their leaders not to patronize gentile merchants, and to become economically self sufficient. For Young, a successful gentile boycott would not only 15 F

prompt some gentile merchants to leave the area, but would assure very minimal contact between the Mormons and outsiders. Mormons were also told not to work in the mines, since this industry was largely controlled by gentiles. Later, when the economic boycott proved unrealistic, men were asked to stop attending popular fraternal lodges and to spend time with their priesthood quorums instead. By 1924, a time when Mormon distinctiveness was seriously in jeopardy (Mauss 1994), and the church’s market share in Utah was near its nadir, church leaders asked Mormon women not to join any outside societies or organizations, and to limit their volunteer work and charitable activity to service projects sponsored by the church (Alexander 1986:135). The shifting meaning of church attendance Other changes were afoot with regard to the importance and primacy of church meetings in the lives of the Saints. By the 1920s, church meetings were a principal way for church members to interact, whereas before everyday social interaction was suffused with religious significance. Thus, producing a sense of Mormon identity and community became an activity that was increasingly relegated to interaction at formal church functions. As the importance of formal church participation increased, church leaders began to insist that members attend these meetings. Alexander notes that at the turn of the 20th century, church attendance rates in Utah were generally under 15 percent, which is extremely low by today’s standards. However, he also notes that participation was higher in urban areas and lower in rural locales (Alexander 1986: 190-114). The reason for this is that old patterns of Mormon interaction still survived in rural Utah, and hence church attendance—which was now vital for maintaining a Mormon subculture in Salt Lake City—was not necessary in rural areas. Indeed, for many Mormons in rural Utah, church attendance was not an important religious obligation at all (Walker 1987). For these Saints, tilling the dry earth and helping their neighbors eke out a living in the desert was the principal expression of their religious solidarity. Nevertheless, as Utah began to urbanize and the church began to grow outside Utah, church attendance became mandatory, and formal participation within the church grew steadily more important as a way to sustain social contact between the Saints. Finally, in the 1920s, church leaders began to deny temple recommends to Mormons who did not regularly attend church (Quinn 1997). Attendance rates rose accordingly. Arrington and Bitton (1979:285) report that about 35% of Mormons attended church weekly in the 1930s and 40s, and by the 1970s—when Mormonism emerged as a bona fide international denomination—the number of weekly attendees increased to 48 percent, which is near current levels (see also Cowan 1985:69, Phillips 1998). 2 16F

The centralization of Mormon authority Aside from stressing church attendance, the church began to centralize its authority and move control of many of its programs from individual wards and stakes to its central headquarters in Salt Lake. This was done to promote uniformity within the church, and to ensure that local variants of Mormonism did not emerge in different places. The centralization and standardization of church authority was a principal

1

Of course, there were always Native Americans in the Utah territory, however, their ways were so different from the Mormons that church leaders did not fear that Mormons would borrow aspects of their culture (See Peterson 1998). The church hierarchy did, however, make numerous attempts to convert members of these tribes to Mormonism (Allen and Leonard 1992).

2 The shifting meaning of church attendance in this instance is an important caveat for scholars who use this as a measure of religious activity in longitudinal research See for example, (Blau, Land and Redding 1992).

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means for the church, which was now losing considerable public power in the nascent state of Utah, to compensate for the changes wrought by a rapid influx of gentiles and the increasing power and scope of the federal government. As gentile ways and federal mandates began to erode the coercive power of the norms that held the Mormon community together, the church took action to ensure the survival of a once self-sustaining subculture, and promote compliance with church edicts. As Alexander (1986:94) notes:

was a direct response to the fact that the vast majority of new church members were now converts who lived far from places where a Mormon regional subculture still persisted, and who had no kin ties in the faith. Since Zion’s people were to be “of one heart and one mind, 3” uniformity in behavior and belief among the dispersed church membership became one of the church’s most important goals.

This centralization seems to have come about because as the society in which the Latter-day Saints lived became increasingly pluralistic, if not secular, the Mormon community no longer created its own internal regulatory mechanism. Under those circumstances, rational organization and fixed rules replaced a sense of community as the means of establishing norms which the Saints were expected to observe.

By 1980, the vast majority of church members were converts who worshipped in wards outside the Mormon Culture Region. In response to this situation, the church implemented what came to be known as the “block” or “consolidated” meeting schedule. The change to the block meeting schedule, effected in 1980, was the culmination of the correlation movement, and the single most sweeping change in the organizational structure of the post-War church. Before 1980, the church had several meetings on Sunday, with Sunday school usually being held in the morning and sacrament meeting (often called the “night meeting”) being held in the late afternoon. Primary, the children’s auxiliary, and Relief Society, the women’s group, met during the week. However, now that many Mormons lived some 20 or 30 miles from their meeting houses, it became very difficult for them to make it to church for meetings several times a week. In addition, the rising cost of gasoline in the late 1970s made driving to and from church expensive for some members (Cowan 1985). In response to these problems, the church consolidated its meeting schedule in 1980. Rather than meet throughout the week, the women’s and children’s auxiliaries would meet on Sunday, and these meetings, together with Sunday School and sacrament meeting, were to be held in one contiguous three hour block. The consolidated meeting schedule made it much easier for Mormons outside the Intermountain West to attend church. It was also a boon for Mormon women who were, like other American women, rapidly entering the work force (Iannaccone and Miles 1994). However, the “block meeting” schedule, as it came to be known, almost completely relegated the official practice of Mormonism to Sunday. The block meeting schedule made Sunday church attendance more critical than ever for sustaining a Mormon community. Indeed, for those living outside Utah, church attendance became a sine qua non for constructing a Mormon identity, and was necessary if one was to enjoy the fellowship of other Mormons. Because of this, church attendance rates have remained consistently high among Mormons (Phillips 1998). These changes demonstrate that the church has radically changed its communal ethos, and the LDS hierarchy is now content to let the regional subculture in Utah fade away in favor of its new strategy for producing solidarity among the Saints: an organizational culture that measures members’ worthiness solely on their compliance with church rules.

Much as with church attendance, the effects of church centralization and standardization were more pronounced in the urban areas of the Wasatch Front, where the programs and functioning of stakes was highly bureaucratized. By contrast, rural areas with little gentile incursion continued to operate on the informal subcultural system that had evolved in the 19th century (Alexander 1986). Response to Mormon Dispersion in the 20th Century As the 20th century progressed and the Mormon diaspora began, the church began to establish itself outside the Intermountain West, particularly in California (Bennion 1995). In these mission field outposts, a Mormon subculture in its traditional form could not exist. Thus, the centralization and standardization of Mormonism was vital for maintaining continuity from one far-flung congregation to another. The church’s formal programs became indispensable for maintaining solidarity among church members, especially new converts to the church without kinship ties in the faith. For instance, as was noted in chapter two, the church’s insistence on keeping the Word of Wisdom emerged as a very powerful symbol of Mormon identity, and an important bulwark of Mormons’ religious subculture in the mission field. The dispersion of Mormonism and the rise of congregations staffed mostly by converts with no ties to the Mormon Culture Region began to reshape the post-war church. This increased the need for a highly centralized and bureaucratized organization to keep up with the proliferation of mission field wards that were dependent on the programs of the church to sustain their religious subculture. By the 1960s, sociologist Armand Mauss (1994) describes the church as entering a time of “retrenchment” where compliance with formal rules became the sole standard by which active church membership was determined. This period of retrenchment is characterized by the “correlation movement” within the church. This sweeping bureaucratic reform dramatically accelerated the scope of Mormon church centralization and standardization. The goal of this hyper-centralization movement was to ensure, once and for all, that the programs and theology of the LDS church—now an international organization operating around the globe—are exactly the same in any area of the world. The content of Sunday School lesson plans, hymnals, church manuals, and procedures for governing even day to day activities within the wards of the church were all removed from local control and directed from central headquarters in Salt Lake City. All of this, of course, 56

17F

The Consolidated Meeting Schedule

Conclusion In sum, gentile incursion and the growing power of the federal government eroded the fusion of religious and public life in Utah, and LDS church power was, to a large extent, relegated to the religious sphere. Rather than fully assimilate into the American 3

This idea is taken from Moses 7:18 in the Pearl of Great Price, a book of Mormon scripture.

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mainstream, however, the LDS church began to expand its programs and use the structure of the denomination to compensate for the declining salience of the regional subculture that once sustained church identity and solidarity. The church did this by emphasizing the distinctive lifestyle of Mormonism, by centralizing its power, and by standardizing its programs to ensure uniformity between wards and stakes. The church also compensated for the fact that church meetings were increasingly relegated to Sundays by making attendance at these meetings mandatory, and the primary means of maintaining a sense of community among the Saints. The bureaucratization of Mormonism, the emphasis on formal rules, and the church’s standardized organizational culture in turn allowed the church to flourish among new converts and in places outside Utah. Thus, for most American Mormons, Mormon subculture is not something that proceeds from unique regional norms and a shared ethnic heritage, but is something fostered and maintained by the official programs of the LDS church. In chapter five, I outline how the new view of Mormon solidarity and communal life affects religious behavior in the Northeast ward. In chapter six, I argue that changes in the demography of Utah have prompted the reemergence of many aspects of 19th century Mormon solidarity.

Chapter Five: Community and Solidarity in the Northeast Ward Living within the organizational subculture fostered by the LDS church’s programs is the essence of Mormon solidarity and communal life in the Northeast ward. While members of the ward have a strong, cohesive community and a great deal of social solidarity, they do not live in a traditional religious subculture: a homogeneous, insular enclave within a larger society. Rather, they live in the kind of subculture that appears with increasing frequency within the modern metropolis: a group of scattered, selfselected adherents that meet at certain times and places to maintain their identity and produce their community. The boundaries of the Northeast ward encompass an entire county and parts of two others, and members of the ward are scattered throughout this area. Many Saints in the Northeast ward live miles from any other member of the congregation. The members of the ward are not, then, members of a physical community, but rather members of a moral community based on the lifestyle and doctrines of Mormonism. Because of their sparseness, the Saints in the Northeast ward must go to great lengths to construct a viable religious community in the midst of this heterogeneous, cosmopolitan metropolis. Membership benefits in the Northeast Ward Integration into the ward community is, in and of itself, a primary benefit of joining the LDS church. Membership in a close, cohesive group of like minded individuals is highly prized by many in a fragmented, anomic society like the post-industrial United States, and many people are willing to sacrifice a great deal for the security and identity that such a community provides. Aside from the spiritual benefits, however, there are a number of practical benefits that accrue to church members who do their part within the ward. Practical Benefits of Ward Membership Chapter one points out that church members in the Northeast ward function as a fictive kin group, and as such, the community rallies around its members as if they were family. Members of the Northeast ward believe that making life easier for others in the congregation is one of their church obligations, and there are many ways in which ward members use their talents and time to serve one another, including help with

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babysitting, odd jobs, and just about anything else that is needed. “You can always call on the church,” notes Mark. “No matter where you are, if you are in a jam you can count on the members of the church.” Mark’s words capture the sentiments of many Mormons. Stories about church members who receive help from other Mormons when their car broke down in a strange town, or when they lost their wallet while on vacation, and the like were common in my interviews. The practical benefits of Mormonism are especially helpful for poor members of the ward. Many of the people who join the Northeast ward are poor, and while the obstacles that these people must hurdle in order to integrate into the ward are difficult, poor converts who persevere find that the church can significantly improve their station in life. Those who prove their mettle by struggling to make it to church on Sunday, and those who pay their tithing despite their modest means find that more affluent ward members are eager to share their wealth. For instance, one man of limited means who faithfully rode his bicycle to church every Sunday for a year saw his diligence rewarded when a more affluent member gave him an automobile. In addition, a dentist in the ward routinely gave free dental care to members of the ward who could not afford to see a dentist on their own. Indeed, during the course of my research, poor members who had earned the trust of the ward community were given money to help make the rent, to cover college tuition, to pay for medical bills, and a host of other expenses. Aside from cash loans and gifts, old computers, clothes, appliances and furniture were also distributed through ward networks from richer to poorer church members. Most importantly, however, poor ward members who do well in their church callings benefit from their association with well-connected upper-middle class church members who are often gatekeepers to good jobs. Members of the Northeast ward spent considerable time finding jobs for one another, and often announced job openings at their workplace during relief society and priesthood quorum meetings. This inside information, along with a good word, were often enough to help poor ward members find jobs that they would otherwise be unlikely to obtain. Finally, to benefit the many Latino/a converts to the Northeast ward, the ward provided English classes taught by returned missionaries who had served their missions in Latin America and thus spoke fluent Spanish. A great deal of research shows that immigrant churches in the United States often help new arrivals gain an economic foothold in an unfamiliar country, and provide services and programs that put new immigrants on the road to assimilation and economic security (Warner 1998). Although not necessarily an immigrant church, the Northeast ward provides similar services for its members, and often serves as a springboard to help the working poor—immigrant or not—become upwardly mobile. The corporate structure of Mormonism, the discipline the church imposes on its members, and—above all—the social networks within the ward all combine to help poor and immigrant Mormons learn to function in a competitive economy. This assistance not only improves the living standards of poor Mormons who manage to stick with the church, it also increases their faith. However, in congregations like the Northeast ward, there are no benefits without concomitant costs. Building a cohesive religious community with rich resources and programs for members in a heterogeneous, secular environment like metropolitan New York City requires enormous effort, and members of the ward are expected to put in long hours and work very hard to maintain the ward. Everyone is required to pull their weight, and the ward has a number of social control mechanisms to ensure that the 60

community functions smoothly, and no one rides free. Insistence on participation in the lay clergy and strict norms governing social relationships are the two primary social control devices that the ward employs, and these are discussed below. The Lay Clergy The Northeast ward is sustained by a lay ministry that cares for all of the religious (and many of the temporal) needs of ward members. All of the programs of the church are staffed by the members themselves, and thus the smooth functioning of the ward depends on everyone doing their part. Since Mormons in the area are so scarce, and since church headquarters in Salt Lake mandates that wards have a full compliment of programs and activities, most of the core members of the Northeast ward have two (or more!) significant lay responsibilities, or “callings.” Having a calling is an essential element of ward membership, and no one can simply attend church in the Northeast ward for long without accepting a calling. As Trevor observes: When I started coming to church with [my wife], I just wanted to take in the meetings and go slow. But every week they would ask me, “Would you like to be assistant scoutmaster,” or stuff like that. As many times as I told them that I just wanted to get acquainted with the church, they would try to give me a calling. I learned that having a calling in the church is the way to get acquainted with the church.

Indeed, new members in the Northeast ward were given callings very soon after their baptism. Most callings for fledgling members are temporary or ad hoc assignments that allow new converts to get their feet wet, network with ward members, and start experiencing what it is like to participate in the ward. Those who perform well in their initial callings are showered with praise for a job well done, make friends with people in responsible positions within the ward, and rapidly earn a reputation as a hard worker and team player. Such praise and acceptance is very rewarding. New converts who demonstrate promise and “magnify” their callings are rapidly promoted within the lay clergy, and those that continue to work hard are advanced to positions of increasing prestige and responsibility within the ward. While rapid promotion within the lay clergy is possible, it takes some time for a new convert to proceed to the core of congregational life in the Northeast ward, and lay callings that are critical to the functioning of the ward are rarely extended to converts without a few years experience in the faith. Part of the reason for this is that Mormon theology and church programs are complicated, and the learning curve for new members can be steep. However, ward members also note that many converts who begin their church service with great zeal often “burn out” and quit attending after a short period of church activity. Albrecht (1998) demonstrates that the first two years after conversion to Mormonism are the years when new converts are at the greatest risk of defection, and it is precisely these years when most new converts are given probationary callings while ward leaders wait to see if they will continue to attend church and adhere to church rules. Leaders point out that only time can differentiate those whose commitment to the church is likely to persist from those who will leave the church after a short time. The bishop of the Northeast ward explains it this way:

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Like the parable of Jesus, a lot of people are seeds sown on stony ground. They germinate and begin to grow, but their roots can’t go very deep because they run into the rocks. Others are sown on fertile ground and become stalwarts in the ward. At first, you can’t really tell what kind of soil a new convert is sown on, but time reveals which ones have a testimony of the gospel, and which ones have joined the church for other reasons.

Callings as a mechanism to ensure activity Everyone in the Northeast ward, regardless of how long they have been attending church, has some sort of calling. In fact, when congregations become so large that there are more people than jobs for them to do, they are split in two. This keeps the community intimate, and guarantees that everyone has plenty of work to do. The extensive system of lay volunteers ensures the smooth functioning of the ward, and also keeps church members busy. In fact, keeping members busy and keeping them obligated is an important function of callings, and lay responsibilities often serve to motivate church members to attend meetings when they otherwise might not. Alexis, who joined the church just before I began observing the Northeast ward told me: I remember one morning just after I was baptized when I really, really didn’t want to go to church. I had hardly slept at all the night before and Sunday was my only day off that week. But I knew I was giving a talk in Relief Society, so I had to drag myself up to go. It’s the same thing now that I teach Primary. Some mornings I’m excited about church, but some mornings I just don’t want to get up and drive all that way. But I know that if I don’t there will be a room full of kids without a teacher, and everyone will be put out that I’m not there.

Other members of the Northeast ward made similar statements, and point out that they sometimes attend their meetings because they don’t want to inconvenience other ward members by skipping out on their responsibilities. As Alexis points out, “No one wants to be seen as irresponsible or a slacker, so you drag yourself to church—which is good.” Ward members also risk embarrassment if they miss church meetings. Since the content of church meetings—the sermons, prayers, and songs—is provided by the congregation, quite a few members are participating in the service on any given Sunday. When someone who is scheduled to speak or give a prayer skips the meeting, their absence is often quite conspicuous. Moreover, when ward members are given new callings within the congregation or when they participate in ward programs, they are often asked from the pulpit to stand and be recognized. As Bill points out, “There’s nothing worse than when the entire ward is straining their necks looking around for someone who’s being [announced from the pulpit] and that person isn’t there.” These extra incentives to attend church boosts attendance in the Northeast ward, and they are especially important devices for retaining new ward members. As the bishop of the Northeast ward explains, “You always want to keep [new members] a little busier than their level of commitment at first. For a while, they may be going to church partly because of their calling, but soon their testimony will take hold.” Insisting that everyone hold a calling very shortly after their baptism also quickly screens 62

out those who aren’t willing to contribute their time and energy to the ward, leaving behind only those who are willing to pull their weight. On this, more later. In addition to providing an incentive to attend meetings, Mormonism’s lay clergy is one of the church’s best selling points. New converts and people investigating the church are impressed that so many give so much of their time and effort without pay, and this phenomenon strikes many as incontrovertible proof that the Saints truly believe their religion. Harriett, who joined the church during my research, remarked, “When I think about the number of hours that the bishop puts in, its like having a second full time job. He isn’t paid a penny and look what he puts up with.” Harriett’s sentiments, common among new members of the Northeast ward, accord with findings from social science research. Finke (1997), for instance, asserts that the lay clergy aspect of Mormonism is at the heart of the church’s strength. In similar ways, many rational choice theorists have argued that celibacy and the vow of poverty that Catholic priests accept enhances their credibility among parishioners, since no one would assume such onerous obligations unless they felt called of God (Stark and Finke 2000b). In addition, the lay clergy helps everyone feel that they are integral to the congregation, and integrated into the ward community. Time commitments and the lay clergy Callings take up a great deal of time for members of the Northeast ward, especially if travel time, and the fact that both husband and wife (and usually older children) have callings is taken into account. Arrington and Bitton (1992:297) estimate that the average teenage Mormon has church responsibilities that total about 14 hours a week. They also note that “Adults who serve in bishoprics, as Relief Society officers, and the like put in additional time that is hard to calculate, but it is probably accurate to say that for these special callings ‘church service time’ each week ranges between twenty and forty hours” (Arrington and Bitton 1992:297). Even for Mormon families with unwavering commitment to the faith, the time demands of church jobs sometimes cause problems. Ward members in the Northeast ward often made jovial complaints about the amount of time needed to fulfill church obligations. Within the ward community, Saints who held positions involving considerable time commitments were often teased about the burdens their jobs entail. For instance, the elder’s quorum president was the favorite target for such ribbing, and— due in no small part to the constant barrage of jokes—everyone in the quorum was well aware of how much time and energy this position demands. When Kyle was elder’s quorum president he told me that, “[being quorum president] will take up as much time as you devote to it. If you give it 30 hours a week, the work won’t be done. If you give it 100 hours a week, the work still won’t get done.” The elder’s quorum president has almost sole stewardship over the temporal and spiritual needs of the men in his quorum. His duties involve everything from organizing home teaching, to giving blessings to sick quorum members, to filling in when other quorum members cannot perform their church obligations. His presence is also required at numerous planning and leadership meetings. One of the most common and onerous tasks that the elder’s quorum president takes on is helping quorum members move. Since New Jersey is an expensive place to live, and since elders are often graduate students or young married couples just starting their careers, they tend to move around a lot. Enlisting volunteers to help 63

quorum members move was practically a weekly part of quorum meetings, and considerable pressure was placed on the quorum presidency to show up for each move. Terrance, a counselor in the elder’s quorum presidency remarked sarcastically, “They should choose the elder’s quorum presidency based on how much they can lift.” Other men referred to the quorum as Elders, Inc., and wisecracks about “slave labor” were a constant source of amusement. Kyle himself often joked that he wished the missionaries would convert more people that owned trucks. Few young men served as elder’s quorum president in the Northeast ward for more than a year, because, as Kyle observes, “it eats you up.” After a short while, these men are released and someone else takes control of the quorum. In spite of this, there was no shortage of young men in the Northeast ward who were eager to prove themselves as elder’s quorum president, as this post is prestigious, and is widely regarded as the proving ground for future bishops and high councilmen. While serving in the elder’s quorum presidency is certainly at the extreme end of the spectrum, church responsibilities often keep Mormon men with important positions in the ward hierarchy away from their home and families more often than either they or their families would like. Since only men can serve in bishoprics, on stake high councils or as quorum presidents, the ward’s most time consuming jobs are disproportionately held by men. The burden of these responsibilities is exacerbated by the fact that most men in the Northeast ward tend to work more hours outside the home than their wives. As Katherine, the wife of a former bishop in the Northeast ward, explains:

without attending at least some them. For newer converts who hope to become core members of the ward, these social functions are vital. Of course, time devoted to the church is time that cannot be spent elsewhere. Thus, while the church no longer has an explicit injunction against joining outside organizations or socializing outside the faith, the combination of formal church obligations and recreation within the ward makes extensive participation in outside activities virtually impossible. Indeed, for those who aspire to leadership within the church, a de facto injunction and informal norm against significant outside affiliations remains, and ward members’ ability to make and sustain friendships outside the denomination is severely restricted. Ensuring Attendance through Social Sanctions

As if the lay responsibilities of ward members do not make them busy enough, the ward also sponsors an endless array of social activities, including dinners, talent shows, and activities for the ward’s youth, among many others. While attendance at these functions is not as important as attendance at formal church meetings, these activities are planned and implemented by church members, and thus showing up—at least for those involved in the planning and production of the activity—is obligatory. It is also important for ward members to attend these functions to meet and socialize with other church members, and it is impossible to fully integrate into the congregation

In short, attendance at both church meetings and ward activities is heavily stressed within the Northeast ward, and ward members apply subtle but effective pressure on those who have sporadic attendance. The most common way this is done is by politely letting the person know that their absence was noticed. For instance, after missing two or more consecutive Sunday meetings, ward members who return to church are almost always greeted with the phrase: “We haven’t seen you in a while”, or “We missed you last Sunday.” The pronoun “we” is always used in this common greeting, and the fact that “we” refers to the entire ward community is tacitly understood. Similar means of applying informal pressure to ensure attendance is employed at church socials and service projects as well. For instance, I observed that members conversing at church social activities often went through a kind of informal “roll call” among themselves, noting who was present and who was not. Ward members paid particularly close attention to who was in attendance at service projects and other activities where work was involved. (The ward is constantly involved in volunteering at soup kitchens, doing yard work for elderly and infirm members, and numerous other service projects.) Some in the ward had a habit of showing up for church meetings and socials but shunning service projects. These members quickly developed reputations as slackers in the ward—something that most likely limited their potential for promotion within the lay clergy. Few, however, needed an arm twisting to get them to attend church functions and socialize with church members—even if work was involved. Most members of the Northeast ward relish the opportunity to visit with their friends from the ward, especially since, as was noted in the chapter two, the distinctive lifestyle of Mormonism often makes social situations outside church settings uncomfortable. Since many ward members live some distance from each other, it is not uncommon for families to gather their children together and head to the church in the early evening on weekdays. While they are at the church, they accomplish a little “church work,” but they primarily spend time chatting with whoever happens to be at the church that night. On these evenings, children typically play basketball in the church gymnasium (Mormons call it the “cultural hall”), and adults often make sandwiches and sip beverages in the kitchen. At least a few core members of the ward are typically hanging out at the building most nights, and church members can stop by the meetinghouse impromptu to socialize on any practically any weeknight. These casual evenings help ward members develop informal relationships with one another, and this in turn provides a way for them to define and nurture their religious community in a setting outside the official programs

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[When my husband was bishop he] was never home. It was so hard for me and so hard for our marriage. Sometimes he would go to the church every night of the week to hold interviews with the youth in the ward, and I would think that he spends more time with other people’s children than with our own. I used to be so angry sometimes at the Lord for this. Our boys really suffered without him around those years. I was so glad when he was released.

A number of women in both wards, but particularly in the Northeast ward, made similar statements. Most however, acknowledged that such sacrifices were part of being a member of the church and counterbalanced their complaints by saying that ultimately their mates’ church service had made the family stronger. The story is different among families where the husband and wife have very different levels of church commitment. In these situations, the less active partner, typically the husband, can sometimes come to resent the church. Such resentment is even more likely for part member families. Social Networks and Relationships in the Northeast Ward

of the church. It also helps their children become friends with one another, since the fact that ward members are widely dispersed makes it unlikely that children of the same age live in the same neighborhood or attend the same school. The building itself, then, is central to the social life of Northeast ward, and is used to compensate for the fact that members are widely scattered throughout the region. Socializing almost exclusively within the congregation also makes up for the fact that ward members live amid significant religious pluralism and allows Mormons in New Jersey to construct a sort of “quasi-enclave” in the midst of the metropolis. Bruce (1996:143) describes a similar pattern among Christian evangelicals in the United States. He argues that evangelicals are “not as cut off from the mainstream world as such communitarian sects as the Amish or the Hutterites but they do their best to recreate at a local level the degree of cultural homogeneity that is needed to sustain [such a community]” (Bruce 1996:142). “Strictness” and community Attending church functions is only one aspect of integrating into the ward community. Aside from showing up at church activities and working within the lay clergy, ward members are also required to adhere to the religious strictures prescribed by the church. They must pay their tithing, refrain from work and commerce on Sunday, and keep the Word of Wisdom. Compliance with these strictures is an important way that Mormons separate themselves from the larger society, and hence obedience to these behavioral mandates is a principal means of boundary maintenance for the ward. A sharp distinction and unambiguous boundary between the Saints and the cultural mainstream requires that everyone fully comply. Ward members contend that relaxing the church’s standards or extending the benefits of full fellowship to the semi-committed weakens the efficacy of church edicts and undermines the incentives for total commitment. Although new converts are given some leeway and allowed to ease into the church’s restrictive lifestyle and time consuming demands, those who don’t fully conform within a short while, or those who begin to slack off soon discover that their welcome within the ward begins to wear thin, and they begin to lose the benefits of fellowship and friendship within the community. Sooner or later, ward members in this situation must decide whether to shape up or leave. As Darren told me, “You can’t just be a Sunday Mormon. In this ward you are either in or out. There is nothing in between.” Darren’s sentiments echo the ideas of prominent sociologists of religion. Iannaccone (1994) for instance, argues that by making church membership contingent upon obedience to onerous demands, “strict” churches are able to screen out potential “free riders,” who would enjoy the benefits of church membership and the fellowship of church members without pulling their weight within the congregation. By eliminating free riders, strict churches are able to ensure that only the truly committed remain. The structure of the Northeast ward is ideally suited to uncovering those who don’t obey church rules. The frequent interaction between ward members means that they are able to monitor and observe one another’s behavior. For instance, since ward members visit one another’s houses with great frequency, and often make themselves very much at home when they visit, beer in the refrigerator or a coffee maker on the counter would almost certainly be discovered. Similarly, a ward member who smokes would soon find his smoking habit to be a significant burden, since smoke breaks 66

would be impossible at the numerous (and often lengthy) ward meetings and socials that occur throughout the week. However, while Iannaccone and others (Stark and Finke 2000a) have stressed the role of distinctive rituals, diet, and dress as the most important manifestations of a movement’s strictness, I found that it was rarely these aspects of Mormonism that caused ward members to fall away. Everyone who joins the LDS church through a process of thorough investigation and thoughtful deliberation knows and understands that smoking and drinking are prohibited. Those who don’t accept these restrictions don’t accept baptism. According to my findings, the “costs” of Mormonism that are most likely to overwhelm ward members are not the behavioral restrictions, but rather the time and money demands imposed by the church. Among those I interviewed who had once been active in the Northeast ward, but who are now totally inactive, none complained that they left because they missed their coffee or beer. Yet many lamented that Sunday—a rare day off from work—was suddenly the busiest day of the week, and the one that required them to rise the earliest. Others complained that church obligations consumed all of their leisure time, or forced them to neglect their cherished hobbies and pastimes. However, the most onerous requirement imposed by the church, and surely the one most likely to result in someone leaving the congregation, is tithing. Tithing is difficult for everyone, but it is a regressive tax that seriously strained the resources of ward members whose incomes barely met their basic living expenses. Compliance with the tithing requirement is ensured through annual “tithing settlements.” At the close of every year, Mormons are required to meet with their bishop and together they go over the receipts for tithing donations. At this time, they are either certified as full tithe payers, or are considered partial or non-tithe payers. Only full tithe payers enjoy the benefits of a temple recommend, or the privilege of advancing to the Melchizedek priesthood. Shortly after baptism, tithing becomes a factor in a new convert’s ability to integrate into the ward community. Most new converts are eligible for Melchizedek priesthood ordination and temple attendance one year after the date of their baptism. Once this probationary year is up, they are urged to seek ordination and a temple recommend as soon as possible. A man who neglects paying tithing will not be ordained an elder and will remain a “prospective elder” until he has established himself as a full tithe payer. Remaining a prospective elder for too long is stigmatized and will impede a man’s ability to make friends in the quorum and integrate into the ward. Likewise, temple garments are a marker of full membership within the community of Saints. No one enjoys the privilege of wearing garments without having been endowed in the temple, and no one can enter the temple without being a full tithe payer. Those who do not obtain temple recommends and take out their endowment in a timely manner after joining the church are eventually written off within the ward. In short, the members of the Northeast ward withhold the benefits of fellowship and community from those who are not fully committed, and tithing is a tough test of commitment. Those who do not comply begin to sense that they are falling behind, begin to feel that they are wearing out their welcome, and begin to notice that the fellowship of ward members is withdrawing. Garth, who stopped attending church because “I couldn’t pay all that money at a time when I was broke,” contends:

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It’s not that they kick you out. It’s not that they really say anything out loud. You just start to get the impression that you don’t belong. People are always asking, “So when are you going through the temple?” which is a nice way of saying “Why haven’t you gone through the temple?” And I’m not going to say, “Hey look, I can’t spare 10% of my money when I’m trying to put a wife through school and feed two young kids and keep a roof over their heads.” So I went to church for about two years and I really liked it and believed it, but I just couldn’t afford it.

Of course, when Garth says that he can’t pay his tithing, he really means that he won’t pay his tithing. There are a number of members in the Northeast ward who support a family of four on much less than Garth’s salary and still pay a full tithe. In essence, Garth decided that the sacrifice that tithing entails exceeds the benefits of paying it. Situations like Garth’s may explain why rates of defection among converts to Mormonism are highest during the first three years of membership. Albrecht (1998:266) notes that about nine percent of converts to Mormonism dropout in the first year of membership, while another nine percent drop out in their second year. Dropout rates remain high through the first five years, and then start to fall precipitously. These data suggest that those who have difficulty paying the costs of LDS church membership tend to be screened out fairly early, leaving behind only those with a strong commitment who are willing to sacrifice for the faith. This is often illustrated by the case of spouses who join the church solely to please their husband or wife. As the chapter two indicates, the LDS church stresses marriage within the faith, and when one spouse converts to Mormonism, there is often considerable pressure on the other spouse to join as well. Many times, the reluctant spouse joins thinking that he or she will simply go through the motions for the sake of marital harmony. Along the way, some of these people become converted to Mormonism and going through the motions evolves into a commitment to the LDS church. It is often the case, however, that the uncommitted spouse discovers just how time and money intensive going through the motions can be. Theo, for instance, joined the church after a year of prodding from his wife, and admits that he did it solely for her. While he wanted to improve his marriage, he didn’t necessarily want the fellowship of the ward community. For this reason, he couldn’t bring himself to pay such a steep price for these unwanted benefits. Soon after he was baptized, however, he realized that his original plan to simply show up on Sundays and be, as he puts it, a “Mormon in name only,” was doomed to failure. They kept wanting more and more time from me, and more and more time from [my wife]. At first I didn’t mind paying tithing, but then I just wanted my wife to pay tithing out of her check and not out of mine because it seemed like the church was taking more than Uncle Sam. I said I would go to church but I didn’t want to go to the temple because I wasn’t thrilled about wearing garments. But [ . . . ] you can’t do that. Anyway, they wanted more and more from me and they would try to be nice, but they would pester me, and they would get my wife to pester me, and there is really no compromise with them. So now I suppose things are worse than if I would have never been baptized in the first place.

In short, Theo learned the hard way that there are really no nominal Mormons allowed in the Northeast ward. Theo’s situation is remarkably similar to that of Tamara and 68

her husband outlined in the chapter two, except that Theo has managed to remain married. The bishop of the Northeast ward succinctly summarized situations like Theo’s and Tamara’s when he remarked, “You have to convert to this gospel for yourself. You can’t do it for your husband. You can’t do it for your wife.” It is important to note, however, that while the ward is adamant that all members adhere strictly to the lifestyle mandated by the church, there is boundless forgiveness for those who sincerely try, but fall short. This is provided, of course, that they are penitent and continue to work at it. Moreover, the ward actively and ceaselessly reaches out to those who have lapsed into inactivity, and welcomes those who wish to return to the ward with open arms. Nevertheless, returnees are expected to make steady progress toward a full commitment to the church, and will certainly face being frozen out a second (or third) time if they do not pull their weight. Utah Mormons and Free Riders Rapid turnover in the Northeast ward, the scarcity of church members, and the wide dispersion of the Saints makes the time demands of Mormonism considerably more burdensome for the average member of the Northeast ward than for the average member of a typical Utah ward. Mormon folk wisdom acknowledges that a calling in the mission field requires much more time and commitment than that same calling in Utah. Indeed, a number of the members in the Deseret ward who had lived outside Utah for a spell repeated to me the common Utah maxim that living in the mission field will make you stronger in the faith. Most Utah members who moved into the Northeast ward shouldered the extra load with few complaints, but some expatriate Utahns chafed under the additional burden that living in the Northeast ward entailed. Kent, who was an advisor in the teachers quorum, describes the difference: If you’re working with the Aaronic priesthood in Utah, you just go to the church on the nights when you have activities and go to the quorum meetings. Here, you’ve got to drive around and pick the boys up and then take them home after. That more than doubles the amount of time it takes. Same with home teaching. [In Utah] you might not even need your car in the summer. Here, it takes two or three nights to see everybody. Add on to that all of the things you’re asked to do from week to week and it adds up pretty quick.

Traveling a significant distance for meetings and home teaching and being asked to hold more than one calling simultaneously were common complaints among some of the Utah Mormons in the Northeast ward. This was particularly true of those Utahns whose commitment to church was not based primarily on strong religious convictions, but rather on their identification with the regional subculture in Utah and their desire to remain in good standing with their families back home. Added time demands meant that Utah Mormons without strong religious convictions were much more likely than others in the ward to refuse certain callings, or to ask to be released from a calling. Since Mormons believe that church callings are inspired by God, both refusing a calling and asking to be released from one are frowned on, and considered a sign of flagging commitment. Some Utah Mormons also earned a reputation of doing a poor job in their positions, and rather than magnifying their callings, they typically forced ward leaders to release them because of their sloth. 69

These Saints were a constant headache to ward leaders, and contributed to the stereotype held among converts in the Northeast ward that Utah Mormons are lazier and less committed than they. There is some truth to this stereotype, but sometimes it was not a matter of commitment that precipitated the “lax” behavior of Utah Saints in the Northeast ward, but simply the fact that the Northeast ward imposes much stricter lifestyle restrictions on its members than a typical Utah ward. As Alan, a Utah Mormon, explains: The church offers a lot of things out there as advice, or sometimes individual apostles or general authorities will say something that they believe, like that women shouldn’t use birth control, or that you shouldn’t drink Coke. That doesn’t make it doctrine. But in this ward, they sort of go the extra mile, and everything that any church leader has ever said takes on this air of doctrine. Things that are just discouraged in Utah are downright sinful here.

Alan’s observation identifies an important distinction between Utah and the mission field. In the Northeast ward, the boundary that separates Mormons from non-Mormons is almost solely based on differences in lifestyle. For this reason, having numerous differences that set ward members off from the cultural mainstream and strictly enforcing compliance with them is vital to maintaining a strong identity and cohesive community. In Utah, lifestyle differences are important, but these boundary markers do a smaller share of the overall boundary maintenance duty, since having pioneer ancestors is another important way that Mormons in Utah set themselves apart. Hence, many of the lifestyle mandates that are expected from every member of the Northeast ward are adopted by only the highly religious or those in leadership positions in Utah. Because of this, some Utah Mormons in the Northeast ward were seen as notoriously lax, even though they would not be considered lax in a typical Utah ward. This is especially so with respect to cola drinks. As the chapter two points out, some Mormons believe that the Word of Wisdom includes prohibitions against cola drinks with caffeine. This belief is much more commonly held among the members of the Northeast ward than it is among Mormons in Utah generally, and the leaders of the Northeast ward strongly discouraged the consumption of these beverages. New converts to the ward quickly learned that having cola in the refrigerator is inappropriate for those who aspire to leadership within the ward, even though the LDS Church itself does not impose official sanctions on those who drink it. Some Utah Mormons, however, continued their cola drinking ways without apology. For instance, when Trent Mitchell, who moved from Utah to work as a stock broker, ordered a cola drink from the snack bar at an elder’s quorum bowling night, several men in the quorum questioned his behavior. Trent responded by reminding the men that there is no formal rule in the church about drinking cola, and that one’s temple recommend can’t be revoked for drinking it. Trent was technically correct, but his behavior was considered a violation of ward standards, and his response angered several men in the quorum. This is further illustrated in the case of David and Tina Miles, who moved into the Northeast ward from Utah to attend graduate school at a prestigious private university. Both David and Tina were from wealthy, well connected Mormon families with a pioneer heritage, and both were well versed in church history and doctrine. It was also no secret among ward members that David and Tina were putting off having children until David finished his Ph.D., which most ward members considered to be 70

contrary to God’s will and LDS church teaching. Tina also openly referred to herself as a “feminist,” which caused a small stir within the community. Leaders in the ward began to fret when the wealthy, handsome, intelligent and outgoing couple proved very popular not only with other Saints from the West, but also with the youth of the ward. Some ward members began to worry about the example set by David and Tina, and began to lobby ward leaders to release them from their callings. (David taught the lesson in the teacher’s quorum meeting, and Tina worked in the ward library.) Things reached a breaking point when Tina announced that she was going back to Utah to finish her master’s degree, leaving David behind. Tina planned to return in a year, but until then she and David would maintain a commuter marriage. This scenario—considered by ward leaders to be an assault on the norms governing Mormon marriage— proved to be too much for the bishop, who released David from his calling, and told him that his lifestyle set a bad example for the youth. An indignant David called his father—a stake president in Utah—who called the stake president in New Jersey, and as David recounts, “all hell broke loose.” According to David, he and the bishop appeared before the stake president in New Jersey, where David argued (and correctly so) that nothing he had done was in violation of church policy. Conversely, the bishop argued (and correctly so) that David was violating the spirit of church policy regarding marriage and the family, and his behavior was undermining his leadership in the ward. The matter was finally resolved when David was “promoted” to the Sunday school presidency in the ward. He served as second counselor in the Sunday school presidency, but was never given any assignments in the position. Up until the time I completed my research, David continued to attend church every week, remained central to the Utah Mormon clique within the ward, and was a constant thorn in the side of ward leaders. Ordinarily, the ward’s mechanisms to jettison free riders and the disapproval directed toward those who repeatedly demonstrate their unwillingness to pull their weight or adhere to the lifestyle required by the ward is enough to screen out the marginally committed. Since integration into the ward community is one of the primary benefits of LDS church membership, being denied this benefit makes continued church attendance unattractive to most. However, for Utah Mormons, church membership is also an important component of family loyalty and an expression of religio-ethic heritage, and thus many marginally committed Utah Mormons still attend church nearly every week. Moreover, because there are sufficient numbers of Utah Mormons within the Northeast ward, they are able to associate with one another and construct their own community within the larger ward community. Some of these Utah Mormons are a constant source of conflict within the Northeast ward, and ward leaders see their presence as a danger to the vitality of the ward. They are free riders of a different sort, who cannot be screened out by the usual methods congregations employ to deal with such problems because they have other sources of solidarity within the ward, and receive benefits besides fellowship with ward members from their church affiliation. Exit Costs The presence of certain Utah Mormons notwithstanding, the self-imposed insularity fostered by the LDS church has a number of other consequences that strengthen the cohesiveness of the Northeast ward and discourage integrated members from aban-

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doning it. Foremost among these is the fact that social networks and relationships outside the ward, which are necessarily neglected because of the time demands of Mormonism, become considerably weakened, and most such ties are eventually severed altogether. As chapter two notes, even relationships with non-Mormon kin can become seriously strained when one fully commits to the LDS church. As social networks outside the faith lose significance, relationships within it become increasingly vital. As members become ever more deeply involved in their activities and responsibilities within the church, the ward community emerges as their primary (and often sole) source fellowship, aid and support. This often has practical, as well as psychological implications. Indeed, Saints in the Northeast ward rely heavily on each other not only for friendship and succor, but also for things like babysitting, help with moving, and home repairs. Zablocki (1998) notes that once a religious community becomes the primary source of these resources, “exit costs” are imposed that make leaving the community difficult, even when there is no legal or financial penalty for disaffiliating. By contrast, in secular society, changing jobs or leaving civic groups and clubs does not necessarily cost one the fellowship of friends made in these settings. Similarly, ending a friendship with a someone who provides babysitting doesn’t typically mean that a favored handyman will cease providing help as well. In the ward setting, however, leaving the Mormon community means severing all meaningful ties with ward members. Thus, those who have sacrificed their outside networks to the ward are deeply invested in the community, and leaving—even if one’s faith is waning—becomes difficult. New converts to the church can become very reliant on the ward community quite quickly, especially given the fact, discussed in chapter two, that their outside social networks tend to be limited in the first place.

Nevertheless, the exit costs imposed by the Northeast ward are not the same as those imposed by the Mormon community in 19th century Utah. While it is certainly difficult for backsliders to leave behind the friendship and fellowship of ward members, the penalties for leaving the church in New Jersey do not extend into other aspects of a person’s life. Converts who leave the Northeast ward needn’t worry that their decision will affect them at work, never fret that their neighbors will shun them, and do not fear that their families will disown them. On the contrary, some converts who left the Northeast ward told me that social relationships at work and school—and especially with family—improved, because they were now able to devote enough time to these relationships to sustain them, and they had disavowed their stigmatized Mormon identity. Thus, despite the best efforts of church members, the Northeast ward is unable to totally recreate the wide ranging scope of the exit costs that held even disaffected Mormons to their communities in 19th century Utah. The heterogeneity and religious pluralism of the region, coupled with a lack of kin ties within the faith, make it impossible for the ward to impose sanctions outside of church circles on members of the Northeast ward who decide to leave the faith. Thus, it is not surprising that the Northeast ward has a rather high rate of turnover, and even members who are completely active can suddenly stop attending church when their circumstances change.

This is illustrated by the case of Larry Flowers and the welfare van. Once each month, the stake presidency asks the Northeast ward to assign someone from the elder’s quorum to drive a van filled with food to needy church members throughout the New York City metropolitan area. Driving the welfare van was seen by ward members as a particularly unpleasant assignment, because the job begins before dawn on a Saturday and requires the driver to make deliveries in some of the region’s most notorious ghettos. Larry Flowers, an active member of the ward for four years, agreed to drive the van one January weekend. However, Flowers was late that Saturday morning, and after about an hour of waiting the men assigned to load the van called him to see if he had overslept. When he answered the phone, he informed the men that it was too cold to go out, and that he wouldn’t be coming. The men then phoned the elder’s quorum president, who had no choice but to cancel Saturday plans with his family and make the rounds himself. The next day at church, Flowers escaped the quorum president’s wrath, as he was nowhere to be found. In fact, he never returned to church. For months people speculated about what may have happened to him, as he never returned phone calls, and when ward members visited or managed to catch him on the phone, he simply gave vague answers about being busy or having to work on Sunday to excuse his absence at church. Interestingly enough, when I caught up with Larry Flowers about three months after the incident, I discovered that he had met a woman at work, and had established a relationship with her just prior to the welfare van debacle. According to Larry, she was not at all interested in investigating Mormonism, and was wary of his affiliation with the church. He also told me that once he realized this, he decided to quit attending the ward and start going to church with his girlfriend—a Catholic. The incident with the welfare truck provided a convenient opportunity for him to sever his ties with the ward. “I didn’t really think of it until the night before,” he said, “But I figured they’d be pissed enough with me that they wouldn’t care if I left, and they wouldn’t bug me too much about coming back.” It is significant that Larry Flowers met his significant other at the workplace, as this is the one area of ward members’ lives over which the church cannot exert control. Fraternizing with neighbors and even non-LDS family members can be curtailed by church edict, but everyone has to work, and in New Jersey this means that ward members must work alongside those who are not LDS in a setting where the church’s rules hold no sway. Given the amount of time spent at work, it is not surprising that social relationships that begin on the job, particularly those involving romance, are sometimes the wedge that begins to separate people from the ward. In Utah, as we shall see in chapter six, workplace relationships are very likely to be with other Mormons, and thus social ties at work rarely interfere with church. Another disruption that sometimes causes members to sever ties with the LDS church is moving. Much sociological research demonstrates that moving can precipitate religious switching or cause those that are otherwise church going to stop attending (Bainbridge 1997). This is exemplified by Red and Ada Mills, who live within the boundaries of the Northeast ward, but have never really attended. Red was ordained a high priest in his ward in Portland, Oregon, and Ada reports that they attended church nearly every week. However, when Red’s job had him transferred to New York City, they stopped attending church. Red says:

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Limits of the Quasi-enclave

We spoke to the bishop [of the Northeast ward] before we moved. We got our membership records transferred, but we never really got going to church. I used to have a model train hobby years ago, and when we moved here I got out my trains again and kind of started spending my Sundays with my trains. Then I started going to a [model train] club that meets here. I got back into [my hobby] and I just haven’t gone back to church since.

Red and Ada still get visits from the missionaries, which they welcome, but report that they have little desire to return to church any time soon. Red and Ada are converts to the church, and have been members for eight years, but because they have no kin in the church and know no one in the Northeast ward, they have little incentive to attend. The case of Red and Ada is similar to some Utah Mormons who move to the Northeast ward. In chapter two, I reviewed research that demonstrates that inactive Mormons are more likely to leave Utah than other Mormons. Those who move from Utah who are inactive to begin with, and who also have inactive families, typically stopped coming to church soon after they moved into the Northeast ward, if they ever came at all. As Stuart, one such Mormon from Utah, points out: In Utah you end up going to meetings for all sorts of different reasons. Someone has a baby blessed or what-not, and you end up at a meeting. That was really all that ever caused us to go to church when we lived in Ogden. Hardly anyone in my family goes to church, and all our kids are girls and they’re all blessed and baptized. When I took this job out here, we went to church a couple of times, but we didn’t know anyone in the ward, so we sort of stopped going. I think we’d like to go every now and then, but like I said, we don’t know anyone in the ward.

Stuart’s comment illustrates the fact (discussed in chapter six) that many Mormons in Utah are at least weakly tied to the church because of the influence of the Mormon subculture in Utah. When these members, who have inactive families and low levels of commitment to the church to begin with, move away from the influence of this subculture, even these weak ties to the church are severed. The stories of Larry Flowers, Red and Ada, and to a lesser extent Stuart, point out that for a significant minority of Mormons, affiliation with the LDS church is based on very mundane and utilitarian needs: fellowship and a sense of belonging. This research suggests, however, that perhaps this need does not remain constant throughout the life course, and that the desire for these membership benefits waxes and wanes depending on circumstances. This explains why someone like Larry Flowers would abruptly leave the church when he developed a significant relationship outside the fold, or why Red could so easily swap his affiliation with the church for new friends who collect model trains. Some might be reluctant to accept the premise that for some active Mormons, the content of Mormonism’s theology is not a strong determinant of church activity. It is interesting to note, however, that none of the people that I interviewed who had lapsed into inactivity ever gave disbelief in Mormon theology as a reason for their departure from the church. Indeed, people I interviewed who had left the church after periods of significant involvement reported to me that they had moved, that someone in the ward had offended them to the point where they could never go back, or that they had developed a social network that satisfied their need for community outside the church (which sometimes involved joining another church). This also accords with recent research suggesting that for Americans generally, religion is based 74

less on theological concerns and more on the idea of finding solidarity in a fragmented, heterogeneous society (Smith 1998). Of course, most Mormons are also tied to the church because of their strong belief in LDS theology. Members with unwavering faith in the doctrines of Mormonism abound in the Northeast ward. These members form the backbone of the ward, and would never initiate a romantic relationship outside the faith or fail to report to their new ward upon moving. They are members who will stay the course regardless, and they constitute a majority of the Northeast ward’s active members. However, the fact remains that some people who are committed to the LDS church (and other, similar religious movements) attend church and support the movement because it provides them with a sense of belonging and membership, and the theological content of the message is less important than the community that purveys it. For these Mormons, the opportunity for new relationships offering friendship, romance, or community outside the ward occasionally arises, and when these relationships are perceived to offer greater rewards than those offered by the ward, they sometimes shift their allegiance and depart. Similarly, given that fitting into a new ward requires a considerable investment in time and energy, it is not surprising that sometimes Mormons who move to a new town are unwilling to make the investment. This explains, in part, why the membership of the Northeast ward is constantly in flux. Youth and the Quasi-enclave Another limitation of the Northeast ward’s quasi-enclave is the community’s failure to retain the children of converts to the church. Although no conclusive studies have examined intergenerational retention in the LDS church, sociologist Armand Mauss (1994) suspects that the LDS church may have difficulty retaining the children of converts, especially those reared outside the Mormon Culture Region. During my research in the Northeast ward, ward leaders spent considerable time and energy developing programs to engage and retain the teenagers and young adults of the ward, and charged some of the most talented members of the lay clergy with administering these programs. Nevertheless, most of these programs had very modest success, and most of the teenage and young adult members of converts to the church showed much less interest in the church than their parents. A primary reason for this is the influence of school. As with work, the LDS church in New Jersey has no control over the school, and young Mormons must interact outside the faith in this setting. Most of the ward’s school children had, at best, one or two other ward members attending their school. Given this, friendships outside the faith are virtually inevitable. These friendships often served to undermine the teachings of the church. Merrill Garrett, who moved back to Utah specifically to counteract the influence of peers outside the church on his children, explains: It’s hard for kids to get the message that alcohol is a bad thing and not to ever use it when they see their friends that are getting good grades and popular in school using it. When their friends parents are successful and wealthy and have a stocked liquor cabinet and wink and nod at their kids drinking.

Friends from school also looked askance at early morning seminary and the church’s insistence that young men serve two year missions. 75

Teens and young adults in the Northeast ward often reported that the church’s lifestyle requirements and the time restraints imposed by ward activities hurt their standing with their peers at school. In the chapter two, I noted that inviting stigma from the larger society is a fundamental aspect of mission field identity, and a principal way that members of the Northeast ward distinguish themselves from mainstream culture. While those who convert to Mormonism invite such stigma and see it in a positive light, many of their children do not. Further, those who convert to Mormonism choose to sacrifice their free time and energy to the ward, but many of the children of these converts feel coerced into compliance, and chafe at the demands the church imposes on their time. Some of the high school students in the Northeast ward, for instance, were vocal about their opposition to the seminary program. Within Mormonism, “seminary” is a program of daily classroom instruction in the scriptures and church history for high school students. In Utah, seminary buildings are adjacent to every high school, and seminary classes are taught by professionally trained teachers and seamlessly integrated into the high school curriculum (Cowan 1985:249). However, in New Jersey (and most other states) the scarcity of Mormons makes it impossible to implement seminary in this form, and seminary classes must be held before school, and taught by a member of the lay clergy. For some teens in the ward, this means getting up at 5 a.m. every weekday to attend the hour long class. Parents of teens in the Northeast ward were encouraged by ward leaders to make their children attend seminary, and for some families arguments over seminary were a daily event. Leaders and parents in the Northeast ward also had a very difficult time convincing their teenage children that they should not date outside the faith. A number of teens in the ward openly protested that the Mormon dating pool was far too small, and resented not being able to pursue dating interests at school. In order to compensate, the various wards and stakes in the region often came together for large multi-stake dances and socials, but many teens argued that the behavioral standards imposed by the church took the fun out of these activities. At church dances, for instance, the lyrical content of the music was screened beforehand by church leaders, and many of the most popular songs were excluded. The closeness of slow dancing was also carefully monitored, and dress standards often precluded current fashions. It is not surprising that when many teens reached an age where their parents could not easily control them, they began to openly defy prohibitions against dating outside the faith, and eventual marriage outside the faith was common. In addition to being drawn away from the ward by social networks and relationships at school, young people often find it difficult to really get to know people their own age at church. Youth in the ward rarely see their church friends in non-church settings. They usually attend different schools, sometimes have different social class backgrounds, and typically live far enough away from one another that getting together is difficult. Because of this, only the children of the most active families come in contact with one another often enough to establish friendships on par with friendships in their neighborhood and at school. The children of semi-active families were usually not well acquainted with others their age in the ward, and often seemed out of place at church socials. Not surprisingly, these children reported that they did not like attending such activities, and leaders in the ward confided to me that their prospects for continued activity within the church were poor.

Many parents in the ward recognized the plight of the youth, and wondered aloud why the church didn’t have LDS schools so that their children could consolidate their school and church friendship networks. Families that could afford it looked forward to sending their children to an LDS college or a state college in Utah. Others planned to move to Utah, and expatriate Utahns in the Northeast ward often returned home about the time their children reached puberty. However, many young people didn’t want to go to college in Utah, and as they reached maturity, wanted little to do with the LDS church. Earlier in this chapter, I argued that integration into the Mormon community meets a need that many have for solidarity in a fragmented society. However, this need is not genetically transmitted, and doesn’t necessarily run in the family. Indeed, just as the children of the irreligious are more likely than their parents to attend church (Stark and Finke 2000a), the children of the very religious are probably less likely to do so. A strong emphasis on religious socialization and other factors may temper this, but based on my observations in the Northeast ward, I theorize that the high religiosity of Mormon converts tends to regress toward the mean in the next generation. Cindy summed this sentiment up perfectly when she mused, “My daughter has my eyes, but not my faith.” For Utah Mormon parents who stay in the mission field, the prospects for retaining children in the faith are a little better than for converts, because kinship and church social networks are consolidated, even if church and neighborhood social ties are discrete. Studies suggest that for religions like Mormonism, it may be easier for church members to convert their friends to the church than to retain their children (Stark and Finke 2000a). Interestingly enough, however, other data suggest that Mormonism has very high retention rates generally, and that very few Mormons defect and join other churches. I argue however, that part of the reason for this is the fact that children reared in the church who subsequently leave are never removed from church rolls. This is partly why Kosmin and Lachman (1993) assert that the Mormon church substantially over-reports its membership in the United States. (Extremely high rates of intergenerational retention in Utah and the west also drive LDS retention rates, as chapter six will show.)

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Conclusion The community in the Northeast ward is strong and cohesive, and has many mechanisms at its disposal to ensure religious vitality. Chief among these are social control mechanisms that screen out those that are unwilling to pay the price of membership. This leaves behind only those with a strong commitment to the faith. The community also has ways to keep members from defecting once they have integrated into the community. All of these things allow the Northeast ward to function as an insular, quasienclave. However, a quasi-enclave is not, after all, an enclave, and despite the LDS church’s efforts to compensate, there is no real substitute for consolidated kin, neighborhood, ethnic and religious social networks—as we shall see in the following chapter.

Chapter Six: Utah Mormon Subculture and the Deseret Ward This chapter shows how the vestiges of Mormon theocracy persist in Utah, and argues that a growing Mormon population in Utah has allowed many aspects of 19th century Mormon social solidarity to reemerge. In chapter four, I argued that an influx of gentiles into Utah and coercion from the federal government forced the LDS church to take steps to counteract the erosion of traditional Mormon solidarity. Responding to these threats, the church developed rationalized programs designed to compensate for the weakening of informal social controls in the Mormon community. These programs increased the importance of formal church participation, and assumed part of the burden of identity and solidarity maintenance within the church. These programs also allowed the church to expand to areas outside the Great Basin, and provided the framework for Mormon communal life in mission field wards where kinship, employment, neighborhood and congregational social networks are discrete. The fastidious standardization of Mormonism ensures that all of these programs are administered church-wide, and are fully implemented in wards along the Wasatch Front. The Deseret ward, for instance, depends on its lay clergy in order to function just like the Northeast ward. However, the informal Mormon culture that existed in the 19th century never fully disappeared from Utah, and these programs exist alongside a form of Mormon solidarity that is unique to the region. Thus, in Utah the programs of the LDS church are not the sole source of Mormon communal ties. Aside from being a product of church programs, Mormon solidarity, like Mormon identity, also springs from traditional sources that interface with the church, but do not wholly proceed from it, nor completely depend on it. Indeed, many aspects 19th century Mormon communal life persist along the Wasatch Front to this day, and I assert that due to Mormon growth in the region, some of these cultural patterns are as strong now as they have ever been in this century. This chapter investigates this phenomenon. The Social Context of Utah Mormonism Throughout the late 19th and early 20th century, the Mormon share of Utah’s citizenry declined due to gentile in-migration and the Mormon diaspora. However, by 1930 this trend had begun to reverse itself, and Mormons began gaining ground in the state. Table 7.1 on the following page demonstrates that for the state’s three largest urban areas and for Utah generally, Mormons steadily increased their share of Utah’s citizenry. Today, about 75% of Utahns are Mormon—a figure that has remained fairly 78

constant for over a decade despite enormous population growth within the state and increasing residential mobility in the nation at large (Perlich 1996). This is due primarily to high Mormon birth rates (Heaton 1998), and also due to the fact that a disproportionate share of those moving to Utah in recent decades are Mormon (Sorenson 1997). Presently, the Mormon majority in Utah is higher than when Utah first became a state in 1890. Due to this Mormon majority, and due to the church’s considerable public power, Mormons in Utah practice their faith in a setting very different from that of their mission field counterparts. These differences mean that Mormon communal life in the Deseret ward is quite distinct from that of the Northeast ward, even though the official programs of the church are administered identically in both congregations. Theocracy and the Mormon/Gentile Political Divide in 21st Century Utah One of the major differences between Mormon communal life in Utah and Mormon life in the mission field is the relationship of the Mormon church to local and state government. In the 19th century, the Mormon hierarchy made several attempts to secure statehood for Utah before finally succeeding in 1896 (Lyman 1986). Their purpose in these attempts was not to show loyalty to the nation. On the contrary, church leaders realized that statehood would grant more autonomy for the nascent state of Deseret than the system of territorial government, with its federal appointees (Bigler 1998). One of the promises that church leaders made to finally achieve statehood was to dismantle the church’s political party and encourage the Saints to affiliate with national political parties (Alexander 1986). During the early years of the century, church leaders sought to avoid further unpleasant encounters with the federal government by ensuring balance in the political process, and by forbidding members of the church hierarchy from seeking political office without the approval of the First Presidency (Alexander 1986). These efforts, combined with a substantial gentile minority, helped achieve a tenuous balance of power between Mormon and secular interests. Today, however, trouble with the federal government and the practice of polygamy are in the distant past, and sustained growth in the Mormon population throughout the latter half of the 20th century, has raised the possibility of a renewed political rift between Mormons and Gentiles in present-day Utah. Alexander (1996:420) notes: A recent tendency for Mormons to join the Republican Party en masse has raised the distinct possibility of a return to the religiously divided politics of the 19th century 79

when nearly all of the Mormons were members of the People’s Party and virtually all non-Mormons joined the Liberal Party. . . . [B]y the late 1980s, upward of 70% of the Mormon vote has gone to the Republican Party, and roughly the same proportion of non-Mormons have voted Democratic. Moreover, active Mormons tend to be the most Republican in the state.

One observer adds, “it appears that non-Mormons, women, and ethnic minority candidates may have no more, and possibly less, chance of being elected today than when Utah first became a state” (quoted in Poll 1987: 332). Aside from voting patterns, Quinn (1997:368) points out that Mormons are overrepresented in the Utah state legislature, and usually constitute almost 90% of that body. This is overrepresentation is even more striking when one considers that the mean age of Utah’s LDS citizens is younger (due to higher birth rates) than that of non-Mormons (Heaton 1998). Gottlieb and Wiley (1984:82) note that this leads to seamless integration between church and state in Utah politics, observing that “[LDS church] influence over the legislature is both profound and subtle, … with a large number of church officials, such as stake presidents and bishops, holding seats. In this situation, the church need not pull any wires” (cf. Ure 1999:98). In short, LDS leaders needn’t overtly lobby legislators in Utah, because a substantial portion of Utah lawmakers are church leaders themselves. This situation prompts one social scientist to observe that “Nowhere else in America is a religious leader so dominant and such a singular, millennial culture so in charge” (Wright 1993:149). Charges of theocracy are common behind the Zion Curtain, and the line between church and state in Utah can sometimes be fuzzy (Sillitoe 1996). For instance, Utah’s Governor—a Melchizedek priesthood holder—delivered 1995’s annual “State of the State” address from the Mormon tabernacle in Logan, with the entire state legislature attendant. The address took place despite vocal opposition from Utah’s non-Mormon minority and a threatened lawsuit by the ACLU. Utah’s taxpayer funded state centennial celebrations in 1996 occurred in various tabernacles as well. Critics of the LDS church and Utah’s non-Mormon community saw these activities (and others like them) as a clear mixing of church and state. Indeed, just as in the 19th century, the federal courts have acted several times to reign in Utah Mormons’ tendency to merge religious and secular affairs. A typical example of this was manifest when the city of Saint George in Southern Utah was sued because the city had been paying the $180 monthly bill to floodlight the town’s LDS temple—a favor commenced by the city for the church in 1942. City officials refused to stop paying the bill until the case was decided against them in the Supreme Court (Sillitoe 1996). The plaintiffs in the case held that using state funds to illuminate a church building is illegal. Attorneys for the church argued that the city of Saint George did not violate the law because the venerable Saint George temple is as much a historical landmark as it is a church building. A more blatant example concerns the case of the LDS seminary program. Seminaries are adjacent to all Utah high schools, and until the late 1970s students were given credit toward high school graduation for certain seminary classes. When this practice was abolished by the court, “the State Board of Education and school districts scurried to adjust graduation requirements and scheduling so that students could attend LDS seminary and still earn enough credits to graduate” (Sillitoe 1996:52). Thus, in Utah the LDS church has a decidedly more prominent role in public life than in New 80

Jersey or elsewhere in the nation, and the church’s public power substantially affects the nature of Mormon solidarity in the state. The Ward in Utah Aside from the lingering ties between church and state, the very concept of a ward in Utah is different from elsewhere in the nation. In New Jersey, for instance, wards are much like typical Christian congregations where members affiliate not based their residence within a parish boundary, but on shared ideology. In Utah, however, the concept of a “ward” adheres closely to the literal definition: a geographic division within a town which constitutes a distinct administrative district. Wards along the Wasatch Front often encompass only four or five city blocks, and some stakes can be as small as one or two square miles. For instance, the Cedar Valley apartments, a large apartment complex adjacent to the Deseret ward boundaries, constitutes a ward in and of itself. Most housing subdivisions in metropolitan Salt Lake City have their own “ward house” within short walking distance of the residences. Thus, in Utah, congregation and neighborhood boundaries are coextensive. Moreover, since the entire state of Utah is 75% LDS, individual wards are constituent elements of a huge patchwork of literally thousands of wards that cover the entire region—a situation that has no analog anywhere else in the nation. Because of the homogeneity of Utah’s Mormon population, and the small perimeter of Utah wards, even large urban areas in Utah are infused with classic elements of gemeinschaft. Members within any given ward along the Wasatch Front vary little on important demographic characteristics. For instance, the small size of wards in Utah cities means that very little variation with respect to income and SES will exist within ward boundaries. When upwardly mobile Utah Mormons move to a larger house, they almost always change wards as well. This shields most Utah wards from the class conflicts that afflict the Northeast ward. The greater the concentration of Mormons within a given area, the smaller the geographic boundaries of the wards, and hence the greater the degree of mechanical solidarity within it. Finke (1997:58) sees this as one of the fundamental strengths of Utah Mormonism. He writes: Because the local wards are territorially bound and limited in size, the membership tends to be homogeneous by social class and ethnicity. Like Catholic parishes, the local Mormon wards can serve the specific needs of individual market segments as the diversity of wards serves a broad spectrum of the market. Moreover, the use of local lay ministers ensures that clergy will be in touch with the specific needs of their ward.

In short, people within homogeneous Utah wards tend to have similar religious needs, and choosing leaders from within the ward means that these needs are well understood (and shared) by those in charge. Community and Solidarity in the Deseret Ward. As a typical Wasatch Front ward, the Deseret ward encompasses about five city blocks. The ward house, as these Saints call their church, is easy walking distance from 81

most of the homes in the ward. The bishop of the Deseret ward has a large map of the subdivision that comprises the ward in his office. Each lot is displayed on the map, and within the lot the bishop has written the name of the family living there, as well as their phone number and the names of their home teachers. It is clear from the map that less than 10 non-LDS families live within the ward’s perimeter. (By contrast, the bishop of the Northeast ward has a map of the county on his wall!) This fusion of ward and neighborhood means that members of the Deseret ward have different ideas about the meaning of ward solidarity, the functions of the ward community, and the role of the lay clergy than their counterparts in the Northeast ward. They also submit to very different exit costs and social control mechanisms. Social Relations in the Deseret Ward Despite its small town feel, social relations among core members of the Deseret ward are not nearly as intimate nor interaction among them as frequent as in the Northeast ward. While active members of the Northeast ward usually reported that their closest friends were also ward members, this was less likely in the Deseret ward. Socializing within the ward was less common, and investing in social networks outside the ward not at all discouraged in this setting. This is because members of the Deseret ward are usually also socializing within the faith when they spend time with friends at work, or join civic organizations. Hence informal norms against socializing outside the congregation are not necessary, because socializing outside the congregation is not tantamount to socializing outside the faith. In addition, members of the Deseret ward rely on each other for favors and services far less often than do members of the Northeast ward. Finding an LDS babysitter, for instance, is not particularly difficult in Utah, and so the ward is not a vital source for these kinds of services. In addition, many members of the Deseret ward have LDS kin in the area to assist them. Finally, it goes without saying that Deseret ward members do not feel that banding together as a congregation is necessary to ensure their survival as a small religious minority. Thus, unlike the Northeast ward, maintaining friendship ties and socializing within the ward is not necessary for establishing a network of LDS friends and building a sense of Mormon solidarity in Utah. This means that while Utah Mormons have just as much stake in their church membership as their mission field counterparts, they have a far lower stake in their ward membership. This fact is often very troubling for new converts to the church who move to Utah. These Mormons—especially those who move to Utah from the East where Mormons are sparse—have often internalized a convert identity based on being a religious minority, and are used to a level of interaction within their congregation that is uncommon in Utah. As Oscar, who, as was noted in chapter three, moved to Utah from the Northeast ward and then moved back again, recounts: The wards in Utah aren’t like a family like [mission field wards. In New Jersey] I feel like I’m a part of something, and [in Utah,] a ward is just the people you go to church with. I tried to be enthusiastic and get things going, but the ward was just spiritually dead. It’s like everyone takes the gospel for granted.

The Demands of Utah Mormonism The demands of lay clergy callings in the Deseret ward are also very different from those in the Northeast ward. Because of the abundance of church members and the stability of the wards membership, members of the Deseret ward are rarely asked to take more than one calling. In addition, it typically takes less time to perform the duties of one’s calling, since there is no travel time involved. For instance, home and visiting teaching in the Deseret ward is a fairly simple task. In the summer many ward members simply walk their routes, and ward leaders can easily and strategically match families with the home teachers that can help them most and vice versa. By contrast, home and visiting teaching assignments were a major headache for leaders of the Northeast ward. If assignments were made on the basis of how much the home teacher had in common with the assigned families, the travel distance was typically too great. If, however, assignments were based on geography, then class, age and other differences became a problem. Things are also much easier in Utah for the youth of the church. As was mentioned earlier, seminary classes for high school students in Utah are integrated into the school day like any other class. Since the seminary building is adjacent to the high school, students need not get up early or travel long distances for seminary instruction like youth in the Northeast ward. Moreover, seminary attendance in Utah is normative, not stigmatized. Young people in the Deseret ward have no trouble finding playmates within the faith, as most of their neighbors, classmates, and the children they encounter at little league or dance class are also LDS. There is also no need to drive children long distances to meet with Mormon friends, as is the case in New Jersey. Indeed, while members of the Northeast ward often wished aloud that the church would implement Mormon schools, many public schools are de facto Mormon schools in Utah, since such a high percentage of the student body, teachers, and administrators are LDS. In fact, some have argued that Mormon influence in the public school is so pervasive that nonLDS children sometimes face prejudice and discrimination from their peers at school (Walker 1987). Finally, while Mormon parents in Utah insist that their children date and marry within the faith just like their New Jersey counterparts, the size of the Mormon marriage market in Utah makes this a much less onerous demand. Members of the Deseret ward, especially those who have lived in the mission field themselves, readily acknowledge that living the gospel is easier in Utah. They often spoke with respect for converts who adhere to church teachings and attempt to raise children outside the Zion Curtain. As Janice points out: “You can’t sit on the fence in the mission field like you can here.” In fact, fence sitting, or free riding, is relatively easy in the Deseret ward, at least when it comes to working within the lay clergy. Those with no aspirations for leadership positions within the church can get by doing very little within the congregation because there are more than enough members to cover the tasks that need to be done, and members make fewer time consuming requests for favors and services from the ward. Church Activity in the Deseret Ward

Indeed, the notion that Utah Mormons take the church for granted is a ubiquitous stereotype held by many converts in the mission field.

Unlike members of the Northeast ward who must drive to the church to socialize, Saints in the Deseret ward often went for walks on cool summer nights to visit with

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other ward members out doing the same. Indeed, walks around the block on summer nights sometimes resembled a block party with children playing while adults stood on the sidewalks to chat. Because congregation and neighborhood are consolidated, the members of the Deseret ward know their neighbors much better than the average suburban American. I found that most ward members can go down their street, or even around the subdivision, and cite a remarkable number of the names of the people who live in the various houses. Even beyond this, they can usually also report their occupations, their children’s names and a little (or a lot) about them. This makes the ward feel more like a small town than a suburban subdivision in a large metropolitan area. The consolidation of ward and neighborhood also means that those who attend church only once a month or so can still be at least partially integrated into the ward, and still have people to talk with at the service. As Milton explains: I only go to church once a month or so, but as you can see, the bishop is my next door neighbor, so I pretty much know what’s going on in the ward. Brother Sorenson [a member of the bishopric] lives right across the street, so I see two thirds of the bishopric pretty much daily. I know just about everyone in the ward, and they all know me, so I don’t feel awkward at church.

In fact, Milton is surrounded on all sides by ward members, and displayed a familiarity with the issues in the ward that would be impossible for someone with his level of activity in the mission field. Milton’s penchant for attending church on a monthly basis would be much more difficult to manage in New Jersey. First, he would be subject to the social sanctions imposed on those who attend church infrequently, wheras in Utah being a good neighbor is an important part of being a good ward member irrespective of church attendance. Second, unlike his present situation, Milton would probably not be as well versed in ward events, and probably wouldn’t be as well acquainted with many of the members of the ward, since he would not hear about these events or see these people outside of church settings. Because of this, it is unlikely that someone with Milton’s activity level would feel as comfortable at church in New Jersey as Milton is in the Deseret ward. In fact, Milton’s attitudes and orientation toward the church are quite similar in many respects to the totally inactive Utah Mormons in the Northeast ward discussed in chapter three. Since they don’t really know the people at church, and since ward and neighborhood boundaries are discrete, Mormons like Milton who would attend church on an occasional basis in Utah are likely to be completely inactive in the mission field. The ability of the semi-active to partially integrate into Utah wards is also evident in the relationships that exist among the youth of the ward. In the Deseret ward, many of the boys and girls from semi-active families still show up for many of the youth activities in the ward, especially fun activities like dances or camping trips. Since the other boys and girls in the ward are their neighbors and classmates, they needn’t feel uncomfortable or worry about being around people that they don’t know. Moreover, since even totally inactive children are still being raised within the Mormon Culture Region, the prayers, behavioral standards, and rituals at ward activities do not seem strange or arcane. Ward leaders in the Deseret ward encourage the children of inactive parents to attend such activities, because having a pleasant experience at a church outing can sometimes prompt them to start attending Sunday meetings. In the Northeast 84

ward the children of inactive parents are unlikely to have existing friendships with other young people in the ward, and are unlikely to be well versed in the appropriate rules for behavior at church functions. Hence, they are less likely to attend ward activities, and much less likely to have a good time if they do. It is certainly the case that inactivity in Utah is frowned upon. However, members of the Deseret ward that I spoke with had a more liberal definition of “active” than did their counterparts in New Jersey. Milton for instance, was considered by most in the ward to be active, even though he only attended church about once a month. Part of the reason for this is that in addition to his steady but relatively infrequent church attendance, Milton has all of the other characteristics that Utah Mormons look for in one of their own. He is descended from the pioneers, has the “Mormon look,” and submits to the major lifestyle requirements imposed by Utah Mormon culture, including wearing temple garments, and abstaining from alcohol, tobacco and coffee. He is also an excellent neighbor. Thus, while those with low levels of church activity are generally stigmatized in Utah, the standard for being considered active is somewhat lower than in the mission field, and semi-active Utah Mormons are usually not denied the fellowship and friendship of ward members to the extent that marginal members of the Northeast ward are. This is especially the case for those semi-active Mormons who share the “ethnic” characteristics of typical Utah Mormons. Things are rather more difficult, however, for semi-active converts, the totally inactive, or for those who do not keep the Word of Wisdom or wear their temple garments. The Lifestyle of Mormons in the Deseret Ward Aside from the fact that religious duties are easier to accomplish in Utah, it is generally the case that some (but by no means all) of the lifestyle demands of Mormonism are more lax in Utah than in the Northeast ward. This is particularly true for conduct norms that are suggested, but not mandated, by the church. For instance, most rank and file members of the Deseret ward saw little problem in consuming cola drinks, and some flatly asserted that eschewing cola was not part of the Word of Wisdom at all. Many talked openly with me and amongst themselves about R rated movies they had seen, and a substantial percentage of ward members regarded those who fastidiously avoided all rated R movies as being on the fanatical side. Deseret ward members were also generally (although not always) more loose with respect to their activities on Sunday. As Sally told me: The mall is open on Sunday here, and all those shoppers aren’t non-members. People go out to eat and do things on Sunday. I guess you really shouldn’t, but everyone draws the line on what they will do on Sunday a little different. You can go to the mall on a Sunday afternoon and see people still in their church clothes shopping. Guys just take off their ties and women are still in their dresses. Some people don’t think it’s that big of a deal, even though they know they shouldn’t do it.

The fact that Utah Mormons seem more lax on these things prompted Joel, a convert to the church who moved to Utah from South Carolina, to remark: “The Mormons in Utah are not as reverent a people as the Mormons [in the mission field].” However, what Joel sees as indifference among the Utah Mormons is really just a manifestation 85

of the fact that behavioral boundaries, while important, are not the only tools for boundary maintenance among Utah Mormons. Having pioneer ancestors and family ties within the church also does some of the boundary maintenance work, and hence Utah Mormons can afford to relax certain behavioral boundaries to a degree. Of course, some Utah Mormons are sticklers and would never drink cola, watch a rated R movie, or transact business on a Sunday. This is especially true of those who hold leadership positions within the church. Indeed, while the expectation within the Northeast ward was that every member fully comply with all of the ward’s lifestyle mandates, in Utah it seemed that expectations for compliance with some church norms is partly based on one’s church calling. Those with responsible callings, or those who openly aspire to hold such callings, tend to be held to a higher standard. For instance, when Ted and Tammy Ryan—who are rank and file members of the Deseret ward— encountered a member of the stake presidency ordering lunch in a fast food restaurant one Sunday, they were shocked. Other ward members were indignant (although some were merely amused) when the Ryans shared the story with them. Interestingly, Ted and Tammy didn’t attempt to hide the fact that they themselves were eating in the restaurant when the stake leader walked in. Since neither Ted nor Tammy held a responsible position in the church, they weren’t worried that their friends would be indignant at their actions. When the incident came up in my interview with Zack, he pointed out: It’s always embarrassing to see someone in the store on Sunday. It’s happened to me before and I just try and make a joke about the ox being in the mire 1 and try to laugh it off. You know, I’m always appropriately embarrassed by my sins. [Laughs.] If I was a bishop, though, and someone saw me in the store on Sunday, it would be ten times worse. It’s always a scandal when a church leader does something wrong. It’s like, “He’s a bishop and he did such and such.” It doesn’t make it any less wrong when somebody else does it, but leaders are supposed to set an example. 18 F

Zack’s observation reveals that adherence to some church norms in the Deseret ward is determined in part by church calling. Ned, for instance, told me that when he was called to be a member of the bishopric he became more observant and stopped drinking cola drinks. Thus, while it is certainly the case that the more observant get called to higher positions within the lay clergy in Utah, it is also true that a more responsible calling brings with it a greater need for observance. However, while attitudes toward certain minor rules are more lax in Utah, there is no lenience whatsoever for those who violate what are deemed to be essential behavioral standards. Failing to wear one’s temple garments, for instance, is, according to Diana, “a heinous sin.” There are also strong sanctions in store for those who violate the rules against alcohol and tobacco consumption, as we shall see. Social Control in the Deseret Ward In chapter three, I explained how the Northeast ward weeds out marginally committed members by reserving the benefits of ward membership for those who are fully committed to the faith. This leaves behind only those who are willing to do their fair share

of work within the congregation, and those who are fully compliant with the church’s lifestyle demands. Thus, removing free riders is the principal way that wards like the Northeast ward sustain their vitality. However, as we have seen, wards like the Deseret ward tend to be more tolerant of semi-active members, and have a more liberal definition of church activity. They also place less emphasis on certain aspects of the Mormon lifestyle, and are much more likely to let members ride free. In spite of this, however, Mormons in Utah have very high rates of religious activity. Table 7.2 above presents church attendance figures for a sample of United States Mormons. The sample is split to compare the church attendance of Mormons residing in Utah and the Intermountain West, where Mormons are greatly over-represented relative to their national presence, 2 with other parts of the country, where Mormons are typically (and often considerably) under-represented. In 1996 the eight intermountain states contained less than 6% of the nation’s total population, but encompassed 52% of American Mormons (1997-98 Church Almanac 1997). This distribution has remained fairly constant since 1970 (Bennion and Young 1996). As is apparent from the table, Mormons living outside the intermountain states either attend church with great regularity, or do not attend at all. That very few Mormons in these mission field locales attend church sporadically attests to the fact that church members in these wards are forced to decide whether they wish to participate fully, or not at all. By contrast, attendance in the Intermountain West is uniformly high, with few members being either semi-active or inactive. Given that the means to ensure church activity discussed in chapter five are not as rigorously implemented in the Mormon Culture Region, how is the LDS church able to foster such high rates of church attendance in Utah and the Intermountain West? Part of the answer to this question is the fact that church activity is often seen as a barometer of family solidarity in these areas, as chapter two points out. In addition, 19 F

2

“The ox in the Mire” is an expression commonly used in Utah to indicate an emergency on Sunday that justifies otherwise prohibited activity. The saying is based on Luke 14:5.

The intermountain states are: Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Nevada, Arizona, Montana, New Mexico and Colorado. These eight states rank 1-5th, 7th and 11-12th in per capita Mormons, respectively (1997-98 Church Almanac 1997).

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attending church usually takes less effort and requires less travel where Mormons are abundant, and these lower costs may translate into higher rates of attendance. However, in the area surrounding the Deseret ward, there are other social control mechanisms which promote religious activity. These mechanisms are a consequence of the quantity and density of Mormons in the region, and only exist in areas where church members are densely gathered. The presence of these social control mechanisms means that Utah wards don’t need to deal with free riders and semi-active members, because these members are kept in line by elements of Utah’s Mormon subculture that operate in the larger community. The first of these social control mechanisms is the fact that the positions of leadership within the lay clergy—which are only extended to those with high levels of church activity—are a marker of status in Utah society. The second is that due to the size of the Utah Mormon population, religious and public norms are merged in the state. I deal with each of these aspects of social control in turn below.

In addition, more education and a higher income usually goes along with the kind of flexible profession that allows one to perform the functions of a church leader. While corporate skills can often translate into status within the church, it is also true that those who exhibit devotion and loyalty to the church can also improve their status in the community. Thus, the causal arrow points both ways. Armand Mauss, for instance, points out that positions of leadership and responsibility in the church are not only prestigious in church circles, but in the community at large (Mauss 1994). Indeed, Utah Mormons often refer to someone’s church calling as a voucher for their good character. For example, Brent Tullis told me that he had taken his car to a specific repair shop because he knew that that the owner was a bishop. Although he didn’t

explicitly say it, Brent’s clear connotation was that he believed he was less likely to be swindled at a shop owned by a bishop. This is not uncommon in Utah, and church members in the state often patronize retailers, attorneys and medical professionals based partly (or exclusively) on the basis of their church activity and status in the lay clergy. Thus, having a position of responsibility within the church can sometimes enhance one’s earnings. Prestigious callings in the church are also used as status markers in everyday social interaction. It is not uncommon for co-workers or acquaintances to ask about one’s church calling, and such things often come up in casual conversation among Utahns. In Utah, having a responsible calling confers status on an individual, while admitting to a lowly calling can be embarrassing. As Peg points out, “Being the assistant ward librarian doesn’t have the same cachet as being on the high council.” Thus, even in community settings, one’s calling is seen as a barometer of one’s status in the ward, and status in the ward is seen as a measure of one’s faithfulness. In turn, faithfulness is seen as essential evidence of good character. The benefits that responsible callings offer can sometimes cause Utah Mormons to strive for leadership positions within the church. In principle, this is frowned upon, since leadership positions are ideally seen as an inevitable consequence of faithfulness and loyalty to the church. However, most Utah Mormons acknowledge that it is often the other way around, and faithfulness and loyalty are sometimes consequences of a desire for positions of authority in the lay clergy. At any rate, high status callings are quite hard to come by in Utah, since so many people are jostling for them. It seems fairly evident, for instance, that bishops and stake presidents in Utah are older than their counterparts in the mission field (Mauss 1994), and this is likely the case because these positions are more difficult to obtain, and hence worthy men must wait longer for them. (This is why some Utah Mormons advocate a short stint in the mission field for young people, as it gives them leadership opportunities that they would not have in Utah.) Of course, given the nature of Mormonism’s programs and polity, one must have certain skills in order to perform the functions of high level callings in the lay clergy. Not everyone has the communication skills to be a bishop, the organizational abilities needed to be the ward’s executive secretary, or the political savvy to serve in the stake presidency. This means that many devoted rank and file church members never have a calling that is commensurate with their faithfulness, as they are passed over for important positions in the lay clergy in favor of the well educated and well spoken. In many ways this leads to what I call the Calvinism of Utah Mormonism, where those with the most human capital tend to be perceived as those who are the most righteous, solely by virtue of their positions of leadership within the church. The higher up the church’s bureaucratic ladder one climbs, the more likely one is to find well-off, highly educated people in positions of power. This in turn prompts many to believe that the causal arrow points both ways, and it is commonly held among many Utah Mormons that faithfulness in the church can lead to financial gain. For the most part, positions of distinction in Utah’s lay clergy are held by the educated and rich because the skills required for success in both the church and the world of work are the same. However, it is also true that rising within the ranks of the church bureaucracy allows those in leadership positions to network with other well connected, educated, wealthy Mormons. This creates a “good old boy” network in Utah. In short, faithful adherence to church strictures in Utah can further one’s secular

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Church and Community Status A number of observers have noted that there is a high correlation between occupational prestige and rank in the lay clergy in Utah (Mauss 1994). In spite of the class homogeneity within wards, Mormon bishops, for example, are usually more educated and better off than the average member of their wards (Albrecht and Heaton 1998). In fact, there is a positive correlation between education and religiosity in Utah (Albrecht and Heaton 1998). Status in the church and status in the community have a reciprocal relationship. A strong work ethic and the ability to lead, organize, delegate and communicate are all tools which allow one to advance to positions of leadership and responsibility in the lay clergy. These traits also promote success in the world of work. As Ned points out, “The ward merit ladder works just like the company merit ladder.” Indeed, as the LDS church has bureaucratized and centralized, the need for leaders with corporate skills and white collar mentalities has increased. An abundance of such leaders, in turn, accelerate the bureaucratization of the LDS organization (Quin 1997). Ned continues: The church is made for morning people. On some Sundays meetings can begin at 6:00 a.m. If you don’t like getting up in the morning, you’re going to have problems. . . . You see all of the people at church with their planners and schedule books. There are meetings and committees and all of the things you get in a corporate setting. In a lot of ways the church is run like a business, so you need businessmen to run it.

interests as well. It can be good for your business or professional practice, and it can also help you get elected to public office. Thus, many Mormons in Utah have a strong stake in conformity to church norms that ensures their compliance beyond their subjective religiosity. Monitoring and Observation Another means of social control that operates among Mormons in Utah stems directly from the fact that neighbors, co-workers and acquaintances are all likely to be LDS. Because Utah Mormons are in continual contact with other church members, their behavior is being monitored much more often than would be the case in the mission field. For instance, a member of the Northeast ward who decides to break the Word of Wisdom and places coffee in his or her shopping cart risks social sanctions only in the extremely unlikely event that another ward member happens to observe the event. However, a Utah Mormon in this situation must worry about being seen by virtually anyone s/he knows. Similarly, a member of the Northeast ward who decides to remove his or her temple garments to do yard work in shorts on a hot summer day is unlikely to be observed by other ward members. Such behavior, however, would never go unnoticed in the Deseret ward, since ward members are also neighbors. Thus, the density of church members in Utah, and the suffusion of social networks with religious ties, prompts people to adhere to church rules for social reasons, and not solely because of their subjective religiosity. This notion is epitomized by Ralph, a member of the elder’s quorum presidency who groused that Sunday was his only day off, but the proximity of other ward members made it impossible for him to do the chores he needed to do on Sunday. He told me: “I’m not sure which is the bigger sin—mowing the lawn on Sunday, or not mowing the lawn only because I’m afraid the neighbors will see.” Ralph also told me that he and his wife refrain from ordering pizza on Sunday for the same reason—a pizza delivery truck would likely be observed by neighbors. Ralph, who by all accounts is a young man with church leadership potential, demonstrates that while one can easily observe that no active member of the Deseret ward does yard work, washes the car, or orders pizza delivery on Sunday, it is not so easy to impute their motives for refraining from these activities. Conflated Social Norms It is easy to see how the threat of observation can curtail the behavior of those who hold or aspire to leadership positions within the church. However, even rank and file members of the Deseret ward are sensitive to the behaviors that their neighbors, acquaintances and co-workers see. Thus, even marginally committed members of the Deseret ward adhere to the major lifestyle demands imposed by the church. Part of the reason for this is the need to participate in family functions, as was discussed in chapter two. However, it is also the case that the density of church members in Utah conflates religious and public norms, and makes deviance from church rules a breach of community decorum. This means that violating certain rules of Mormonism can incur social sanctions not only from the ward, but from the neighborhood and community as well. Leaving the church, violating the proscriptions against alcohol and tobacco, or

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taking off one’s garments are among those things that are liable to provoke the ire of Utah Mormons. Todd, a dentist in the Deseret ward explains: If I totally fell away from the church it could seriously affect my practice. A lot of my patients are people in the ward, or the friends of people in the ward, and word would get around fast. Depending on the situation my kids might have problems with their friends at school. I’ve seen stuff like that happen.

It is also clear from casual conversation with members of the Deseret ward that being a good church member is vital for receiving the votes of active Mormons in Utah, and political candidates often tout their church activity or leadership positions in the church in order to help them get elected. Thus, while the Utah Mormons are generally more lax on certain minor rules, the conflation of church and public norms means that the punishments for violating essential rules are much more far-reaching and comprehensive than in the mission field. An excellent illustration of this is the way that Utah Mormon culture enforces the commandment that young men serve a full time mission. Under the administration of church president Spencer W. Kimball, the requirement that all young men serve a fulltime mission for the church was elevated to the status of a commandment (E. Kimball 1986), and every young man capable of going on a mission is expected to go. Nevertheless, the church imposes no formal sanctions—not even the loss of temple privileges—on young men who choose not to obey this commandment. About a third of young men church-wide accept a mission call. However, rates of mission service among young men in the church is not uniformly distributed. Utah has the highest rate of missionary service, and rates within the United States fall steadily as the density of Mormons declines (Ostling and Ostling 1999). The reason for this is simple: aside from the fact that missionary service is a religious obligation, failing to serve a mission has a number of serious negative consequences for young men in Utah that do not affect young men in other parts of the nation. First and foremost, failing to serve a mission can severely damage a man’s chances in the Utah Mormon marriage market. Young women are explicitly advised not to marry a man who has not gone on a mission, and Mormon parents in Utah generally frown on their daughters dating men that are not returned missionaries. Second, swapping mission stories is a common topic of casual conversation among Utah men, and questions about mission service are common in everyday chit chat. Men in Utah are often asked where they served their mission. If the answer to this question is “I didn’t go,” and the man is not a convert to the church, the awkward silence that inevitably ensues can be humiliating. Queries about mission service can arise not only in church settings, but in virtually any social setting in Utah. 3 Thus, while the church expects men to serve missions, it does not prescribe stigma for those who don’t go. In Utah, these social sanctions are provided by community norms that exist independently of the church. The coercive power of this norm means that Utah Mormon men with average levels of religious commitment are far more likely to serve a mission than similar young men in other locales. Indeed, it is not unusual to hear stories of young men who radically change their lives at age 18½ in 20F

3 The same kind of community norm governs marriage in the temple. Married couples in Utah are often confronted with the question, “Which temple were you married in?” Replying that the marriage was performed by civil authority is always awkward and embarrassing.

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order to be worthy for mission service. Some of these men will readily admit that part of their motivation is fear of the social stigma that accompanies shirking one’s obligation to go. Things are very different in New Jersey. While I was doing fieldwork within the Northeast ward there was only one young man serving a mission—and he was from a Utah Mormon family. When this fact was pointed out to the young men of the ward at a combined meeting of the Aaronic priesthood, the bishop of the Northeast ward attempted to get the young men to commit serve missions by raising their hand. “By show of hands,” he asked, “who is going to do what the Lord commands?” In spite of this pressure, only three or four boys even raised their hands, and the rest simply fidgeted or looked away. Of course, these young men face a very different situation than their counterparts in Utah. For some of them, going on a mission means graduating from college two years later than others in their high school class. More importantly, in this setting going on a mission—and not staying home—is stigmatized in the larger community. Indeed, these boys are well aware of the jokes and jeers that Mormon missionaries receive as they ride their bikes through the streets of New Jersey. They neither want to be subjected to this, nor explain to their peers that they are about to embark on this activity. Thus, whereas in Utah many young men with marginal levels of church activity clean up their act and go on a mission, in the Northeast ward the reverse is true: the congregation is often disappointed when an active young man decides against mission service. As the bishop of the Northeast ward told me: In Utah you take an inactive young man with long hair and bad attitude, and then all of a sudden he straightens up and accepts a mission call. Around here we look at a young man who has been active in the church all along and he decides not to go. Either way it’s a surprise. In Utah they say, “I can’t believe he went on a mission!” Here we say, “I really thought he would go!”

Mormons is often indistinct from those who believe, but the motivation to conform to church standards is based not on subjective religiosity, but rather on the fact that active church membership and behavioral orthodoxy in Utah is a normative, cultural expectation. Of course, when pressed a significant minority of Mormons will admit that they don’t literally believe everything the LDS church teaches, but cultural Mormons are true ritualists in that many do not believe anything the church teaches. Evan explains: I don’t really believe in the doctrines of the church at all. I’m actually an agnostic if you want to know the truth. But the church provides a good way of life. My experiences in the church, like my mission, have all been positive, and it’s just a good way to raise kids. I wouldn’t leave the church just because I don’t believe in it. I’m sure there have been general authorities who were agnostics in their heart.

Evan confided his status as a cultural Mormon to me, but few members of the Deseret ward know his secret. However, those who do know it don’t particularly care, because within the LDS church behaving is far more important than believing. Indeed, when LDS bishops screen ward members for temple recommends or callings, they largely determine worthiness based on an individual’s compliance with church behavioral standards. The questions that are posed to those who seek recommends focus far more on paying tithes, sexual purity, and the Word of Wisdom than on subjective belief. In fact, bishops never quiz members about whether they believe this or that doctrine, and when belief is assessed at all, it is done simply by asking if the interviewee has a testimony of the gospel. With regard to this, Evan professes a strong testimony of the gospel, because, as he says, “living a good life is it’s own reward.” There are no cultural Mormons among converts in the Northeast ward, however, because the culture at large does not reward adherence to the Mormon lifestyle. In the Northeast ward, the correlation between those who believe and those who behave is much higher than it is in Utah.

Cultural Mormons The Consequences of Conflated Social Norms Since religious and public norms are conflated in Utah, the Saints in the region have a strong stake in conformity to church strictures, and thus their subjective religiosity is not the sole determinant of their religious behavior. Consolidated church and community social ties promote religious activity among other groups as well. Ellison and Sherkat (1995) find that African Americans in the rural South attend church more than non-southern counterparts, even after measures of religiosity are held constant. Since segregation in the rural South compels the Black church to assume many community functions, religious activity serves as a “barometer of solidarity” in these settings (Ellison and Sherkat 1995:1431). Moreover, activity in the southern Black church provides means to achieve social status where secular opportunities are lacking. Thus, much like Utah Mormons, “the decisions of rural southern Blacks about participation in congregational activities have been shaped to a considerable degree by social norms and expectations” (Ellison and Sherkat 1995:1416). The presence of these coercive norms and the need to comply with them in Utah leads to the phenomenon of “cultural Mormons.” Cultural Mormons is a term used among social scientists to refer to those who fully adhere to the lifestyle of Mormonism, including church attendance and participation in the rituals of the church, despite the fact that they do not believe in the church’s teachings. The behavior of cultural 92

The consolidation of religious and public norms in Utah implies that—net of the effect of subjective religiosity—the higher the density of Mormons in any given locale, the greater the opportunities for monitoring behavior and the greater percentage of those who share the Mormon subculture. Hence, I assert that as Mormons become more concentrated in Utah, their levels of religious activity rise. While there are no definitive data to confirm this hypothesis, there are data which suggest that this is indeed the case. The horizontal axis of the scatterplot presented on the following page shows the percentage of persons in each of Utah’s 29 counties that was LDS in 1980. These data were constructed from raw numbers of Mormons per Utah county listed in the 1981 LDS Church Almanac and 1980 census data. 4 The vertical axis shows the percentage of eligible Mormon men in each Utah county ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood in 1980, also taken from the 1981 LDS Church Almanac. I assert that the rate of Melchizedek priesthood ordination is an excellent operationalization of Mormon religious 21 F

4

Nineteen-eighty is the last year these numbers were published by the church.

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activity, since meeting the requirements for Melchizedek priesthood ordination involves—in addition to church attendance—abstinence from tea, coffee, alcohol and tobacco, and the sustained payment of 10% of one’s income to the church (see Burton 1994). Of course, this rate does not measure the religious activity of Mormon women. Suitable generic measures of Mormon religious activity are not available. However there is no reason to believe that men and women in Utah have divergent rates of religious activity. Here I assume that levels of religious activity for Mormon men and women are covariant. The Melchizedek priesthood ordination rate varies from a high of 82.8% in Cache County to a low of 48.6% in Grand County (P=67.8%, V=8.5%). Correlating Melchizedek priesthood ordination rates for Utah’s 29 counties with the percentage of persons in each county that are Mormon in 1980 reveals the relationship between the rate of Melchizedek priesthood ordination and Mormon church market share in Utah. The scatterplot in Figure 7.1 on the following page presents this relationship: a positive correlation suggesting that high concentrations of Mormons accompany high levels of religious activity among LDS men (r=.61, p