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Is Mormonism Christian?
An Investigation of Definitions
"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less."
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master—that's all."1
Theologians do not, generally, ask other theologians if they are heretics. Most people are too well aware of the subjective nature of such designations to rely on a person's self-description in this manner. Very few men and women, we all realize, would choose to describe themselves as "heretics" or "heterodox," except perhaps in an ironic vein. On the other hand, we routinely ask—certainly we can at least imagine ourselves asking—whether some living or historical person is a Christian, or a Jew, or a Buddhist, or a Muslim. Hospital admission forms and military induction papers, to choose two illustrations from among many, commonly ask for precisely such information, just as they inquire about weight and home address and full name. Furthermore, we seem to expect that the answer given to this question—"Of what religion are you?"—conveys objective truth, that it depends not on the position and preferences of some other individual or group of individuals empowered to accept or reject it, but on the simple, straightforward facts of the case. If the patient in Room 3458 has identified herself as Catholic, a priest will be called in when necessary. If Private Roth says he is a Jew, that fact will be noted on his dog tags. We do not see these matters as subject to debate or prey to controversy, any more than we would normally consider weight, home address, or full name questions for dispute. That Isaac Newton was a Christian seems as objectively valid a judgment, and as universally acceptable a claim, as that he formulated the laws of gravity or lived in early eighteenth-century England.
There are voices today, however—insistent and often loud voices—who would make of the designation "Christian" a judgment no more objective, no more universally acceptable and agreed upon, than the verdict of "heresy." Indeed, these accusing voices would apply the terms "heretic" and "non-Christian" according to rules of their own choosing, making them virtual synonyms. This is strikingly evident in the recent fashion, among certain circles, of denying that Mormonism is Christian.2 There are probably few Latter-day Saints who have not, at one time or another, been told—usually to their considerable surprise—that they are not Christians. Indeed, a large and well financed campaign has been underway for several years to convince the general public that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, despite its unwavering identification of itself as Christian, does not deserve and cannot lay claim to that title. Hundreds and perhaps thousands of fundamentalist and other conservative Protestants in the United States and abroad are working desperately to alert mankind to the dangerous "Satanic nature of the Christ-denying cult of Mormonism."3 Of course, these critics would not gladly admit that their denial of Mormon Christianity rests upon subjective grounds; they claim instead to issue their judgment on the basis of cold, hard, objective facts, submitted to rigorous, value-neutral analysis.
The campaign of which we speak is a literal one and not merely our own sensationalistic metaphor. It has its rallies, its enthusiastic volunteers, and its professional organizers and cheerleaders. It uses all the media of print, radio, and television to publicize its point, and has produced a flood of newspapers, pamphlets, newsletters, and books. Some few years ago, for example, a Houston-based organization seeking contributions to fund a "Christian" radio station in Provo, Utah, published a pamphlet entitled "KEYY: A Missionary Opportunity." Attempting to arouse its audience to the magnitude of the challenge posed by Mormonism, the pamphlet announced that "there are seven . . . counties in Utah with no known Christians! (There are more Christians per capita in India than in the state of Utah.). . . . This is an amazing opportunity to penetrate the darkness!"4
On 25 July 1986, the vocal anti-Mormon J. Edward Decker and a contingent of his followers even attempted to present a petition to leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, demanding that Mormons cease calling themselves Christians. (Unfortunately for the Deckerites, Church offices were closed for the long Pioneer Day weekend. Richard Baer, one of Decker's lieutenants, was finally able to deliver the petition on 8 August 1986.) Nearly 21,000 people had signed the petition by that date, and the drive was intended to continue.
Ed Decker and his friends do not, of course, seriously expect the Latter-day Saints or their leaders to "concede" that they are not Christians. (Church spokesman Jerry Cahill, asked what would be done with the petition and its accompanying documents, replied rather cryptically: "They will receive the attention they deserve, I suppose.") The effort, therefore, seems to have had one or both of the following goals: (a) to generate publicity for the accusation that Latter-day Saints are not Christians, or (b) simply to embarrass the Mormon Church.5 The latter aim would not be out of character. Decker also actively fomented hostility toward Mormons in connection with construction of Brigham Young University's Jerusalem Center for Near Eastern Studies. He made at least one lengthy visit to Israel for that purpose, and the co-author of his book The God Makers, Dave Hunt, was the centerpiece of a Jerusalem press conference where representatives of eight denominations denounced Mormons as non-Christians. Of this latter episode, the long-time Israeli Jewish mayor of Jerusalem, Teddy Kollek, has tellingly observed that the anti-Mormon "attitude . . . was less than Christian."6 And, indeed, the claim that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not Christian is frequently advanced with a passion and a vehemence that can shock unsuspecting Mormons hearing it for the first time. Speaking of what he calls "this sinister subject," William C. Irvine, for example, does not mince words: Mormonism is "a fountain of slime."7
While, in the view of these religious enthusiasts, Mormonism is a positive evil, its sinister nature is well concealed. Kenneth Boa, an active crusader against dissenters from mainstream Protestantism, declares Mormonism to be "one of the most effective counterfeits of biblical Christianity ever devised."8 In The Utah Evangel, Mormonism is described as a "vicious imitation."9 It is "devious" and "dishonest,"10 and Mormons are "dupes."11 "Dr." Walter Martin, the indefatigable "cult"-watcher, wrote of the Latter-day Saints that "they have not in the past hesitated to employ deception in their effort to mimic orthodox Christianity."12 More recently, "Dr." Martin revealed to his disciples that "Mormonism strives with great effort to masquerade as the Christian church."13 Its army of missionaries is a vital concomitant of this vast lie: they merely "pose as Christians."14 But the deception does not restrict itself to missionaries: Even a former Secretary of Education, Latter-day Saint Terrell H. Bell, in an invited presentation to the student body of Rev. Jerry Falwell's Liberty Baptist College, was only "posing as an exponent of the Christian faith."15
What is it, according to their adversaries, that Mormons have to hide? Why would they be so careful to dissimulate and mislead? Harold Lindsell is far from alone in reporting that the Latter-day Saints are actually pagans.16 "When the Mormons opened their new temple . . . in Dallas," reported Kenneth L. Woodward in Newsweek, "visitors were hounded by fundamentalists . . . who waved placards proclaiming, 'Welcome to America's Newest Pagan Temple.'"17
Confronted with such hostility, and with charges that seem to come from out of nowhere, most Latter-day Saints, understandably, are at a loss for a reply. One sometimes suspects, in fact, that certain militant fundamentalist mindsets tend to see paganism everywhere—reflecting, perhaps, a deep-seated psychological alienation from the world and from society that goes beyond what any Christian ought to feel as "a stranger and a pilgrim." Bob McCurry, for example, calls upon Christians to shun the "demonic" institution of Halloween.18 Other examples could be provided without difficulty, but two will serve: Early in 1992, many newspapers carried a wire service story that offers a particularly extreme illustration of such attitudes, telling of a man whom an Indianapolis Municipal Court convicted of criminal mischief, a misdemeanor, for toppling and smashing a limestone monument on the statehouse lawn. The monument had been inscribed with the Ten Commandments. But, not, it would seem, with the Ten Commandments in precisely the form to which this gentleman was accustomed. To quote the newspaper account, the man's "defense was civil disobedience. He argued that the monument in question amounted to state endorsement of a pagan religion. He said the version of the commandments inscribed on the monument was a heretical one that lacked the Second Commandment's forbiddance [sic] to make graven images. He has said Indianapolis is loaded with graven images that depict ancient gods and goddesses."19 And Ellen Goodman, in a nationally syndicated 1986 newspaper column, reported on a lawsuit in Greenville, Tennessee, brought by twelve "Christian" parents against the public schools: "The parents object to the tale of 'Goldilocks'. . . They object to the dance around the burning wolf in 'The Three Little Pigs' because it promotes witchcraft. . . . A seventh-grade reader called on children to use their imagination, 'the powerful and magical eye inside your head.' This, said [one parent], was an 'occult practice.'" "The objections these parents raise," wrote Ms. Goodman, "are easily the stuff of parodies." Unfortunately, however, they represent very much the mentality of many anti-Mormons. "In a chilling piece of testimony, [the mother who is the leader of the parental group] said that her religious belief did not allow for religious tolerance. 'We can not be tolerant of religious views on the basis of accepting other religions as equal to our own.'"20
Most non-fundamentalists, though, including many who profess to be Christians, have somehow managed to miss the occultism of "The Three Little Pigs." Even among fundamentalists, probably only a minority recognize in Halloween a demonic threat to their children, or fear imagination as a form of sorcery. More to the point, the Latter-day Saints have generally seemed to their neighbors to be decent, moral, religious people. Few Christians, even, have seen through the quiet, clean, religious Mormon exterior to the horrendous evil that, their critics declare, lies at Mormonism's heart. Hence the pressing need for the current campaign against The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The public must be warned.
How have the Mormons managed to succeed in their fiendish ruse thus far? For many fundamentalist critics, the answer is quite simple. They are deceivers, says Dave Breese.21 Mormonism "use[s] the language of the Holy Scripture to hide its true character."22 It projects a deliberately confusing and "filmy coat of pseudo-Christian testimony."23 Even the Articles of Faith are "deceptive," "hid[ing] heretical Mormon doctrines behind Christian terminology."24
But what is the purpose of such a "cleverly designed counterfeit of the Christian religion"? What is the goal of "the Mormon masquerade?"25 Predictably, "Dr." Walter Martin knows. It is "cult infiltration."26 The Latter-day Saints are attempting to insinuate themselves into Christianity in order to destroy it. For Mormonism is not merely non-Christian, it is "anti-Christian."27 The relationship between Mormonism and Christianity is adversarial.28 "To trust in Mormonism is to reject Christ."29 Thus, there is a "deadly poison behind the honeyed words"30 which Mormons use to conceal their deep "contempt for Christians."31 John Henry Yount, in a pamphlet addressed to blacks, sounds this chilling alarm: "After a century-and-a-half of ripping-off white people and sending them to a Christless eternity, Mormonism is coming after you."32 In the view of these anti-Mormons, it is likely that the Antichrist will be a Mormon.33 "If Christianity is the thesis," writes Rick Branch, "then Mormonism must be its antithesis."34
After enduring hundreds of pages of our "experts" in the course of our research for this book, however, we wonder who has contempt for whom. Walter Martin, for example, alludes to the "blatant chicanery" of the Unity School of Christianity and calls it "a monstrous farce." Those who accept the claims of Mary Baker Eddy are, he says, "her zealous lackeys." Jehovah's Witnesses are "arrogant." Martin is also extremely sarcastic about the story of Mormonism. "The general story of how Smith received his 'revelation' is a most amusing piece of fantasy," he writes, "and would be occasion for genuine laughter were it not for the tragic fact" that so many people believe it. And, he says, in order to believe it Mormons have to be egomaniacs. Likewise, Martin's treatment of Christian Science displays deep sexism, and his chapter on Father Divine is appallingly racist. He ridicules "cultists" generally, speaking, for instance, of "their manifestly feeble powers of logical thought." In fact, when he says of Jehovah's Witnesses that they "vilify and condemn all religious opponents as 'enemies of God' and perpetrators of what they term 'a racket,'" Walter Martin is very accurately describing what was, until his death in 1989, his own operation. He could seldom bring himself to grant the sincerity of those whom he attacked, and he could never grant their intelligence.35
G. H. Fraser adopts much the same tone. He caricatures Mormon beliefs on the afterlife, and then cites his own caricature to show that Mormons "have never been able to visualize a heavenly scene where the blessed are more than heavenly unemployed in a land of eternal sex." The Latter-day Saints hold their ludicrous, unscriptural beliefs because they don't understand English grammar. Elsewhere, approvingly citing earlier writers, he remarks that "Mormons, as a people, have never possessed . . . a modicum of common sense." Fraser is unwilling even to grant the legitimacy of Latter-day Saint religious impulses, declaring that "the Mormons have never displayed any of the graces of religion in their migrations and settlements." At still another place, he denies that there was any religious persecution of the Mormons, and points to their own obnoxious behavior as justification for what bad treatment they did receive.36 He thus whitewashes one of the great blots on American history, in what must rank as a classic illustration of blaming the victim. (Those who make similar arguments with regard to Hitler's attempted extermination of the Jews are generally termed anti-Semites. Yet Fraser's book is highly thought of among anti-Mormons.)
But we must leave such quibbles, and return to the alleged duplicity of the Latter-day Saints. We have remarked that most Christians seem to have been taken in by Mormon attempts to disguise the paganism of their religious beliefs. Fortunately, the "experts" are not fooled by such Mormon craftiness. "Orthodox Christianity," reports James Spencer, "agree[s] unanimously that the Mormon Church [is] a non-Christian cult."37 Certain strains of anti-Mormonism (perhaps in an effort to forestall the obvious and important question of what Mormons are if they are not Christian) have pronounced them to be "the Islam of America."38 J. R. van Pelt, on the other hand, imagines that "the Mormon conception of deity rather resembles that of Buddhists"39—although, given the utter absurdity of the comparison, it does not surprise us that he provides no support for his assertion. More recently, it has become fashionable among anti-Mormons to call the object of their attacks Hindus, or even Satanists.40 The wild variety which characterizes these comparisons—is an Islamic Hindu Buddhism even remotely conceivable?—reminds one strongly of the tale of the blind men and the elephant.41
Tiring of the attempt to place Mormonism in the context of world religions—an attempt for which they have no real competence, and which is, anyway, intended only to stamp Mormonism as non-Christian—a vocal faction of anti-Mormons has come to prefer the "Satanist" identification advanced most loudly in recent times by J. Edward Decker.42 This view of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints represents perhaps one of the first real innovations in anti-Mormon writing since Eber D. Howe's 1834 Mormonism Unvailed. Not content to repeat the standard claims that Mormonism is false, adherents of this school of anti-Mormonism assert that at least some of the leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints know full well that it is false, and that they are conscious worshippers of Lucifer. Rather than denying the reality of supernatural events in the founding of Mormonism, these anti-Mormons admit them—but declare them to have been Satanic. Of the Mormon priesthood, Decker writes: "Its origin is a lie and its power is the power of priestcraft, and its author is Satan."43
Some Mormons have responded to such accusations by declaring their own deep feelings about Jesus, and by pointing to beliefs and practices that, they feel, demonstrate that they are Christians.44 This response has left their detractors generally unmoved.45 "The Mormon and the Christian worship at entirely different altars," asserts Ed Decker, "with doctrines and 'gospels' that fully separate the one from the other."46
Perhaps the charge that Latter-day Saints are non-Christians requires a different approach. By struggling to justify themselves to their detractors, Mormons have sometimes come dangerously close to recognizing the claim implicit in much anti-Mormon literature—that the title of "Christian" somehow belongs to fundamentalist Protestants, and that it is theirs to bestow or withhold. Yet, as will be shown in what follows below, this is at best a dubious claim. Latter-day Saints are not the only people who are surprised and puzzled by it. Lloyd J. Averill, for instance, the author of a useful volume entitled Religious Right, Religious Wrong, explains that he wrote his book for mainstream Christians who are "especially troubled" by fundamentalism's "claim of exclusive rights to the Christian name."47 Further, the assertion that they alone are Christians is rendered even more doubtful by the fundamentalists' refusal to recognize the flimsy—indeed, often paradoxical—grounds upon which that claim is based.
We reject in the strongest possible way the false declaration that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is non-Christian. We declare, in the strongest words that we can find to do so, that Mormons are Christian, and that Mormonism is a Christian faith. The words of the ancient Book of Mormon prophet Nephi express the feelings of today's Latter-day Saints, both leaders and ordinary members of the Church: "We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins."48
In debating the contention of our critics that we are really not Christian at all, we rely upon the social nature of words and of language, according to which meanings and usages are rarely if ever dictated by a single person or even by a single faction. A couple of illustrations should serve to make clear what we mean.
In order to determine the semantic range of a given term, to understand its meaning, compilers of dictionaries do not engage in solitary meditations in their studies. They do not ponder the etymology of the term and then decide what it ought to mean. Instead, they survey as exhaustively as possible the way the term is actually used. They realize that it is a linguistic community as a whole which determines the character of a language and the meanings of the words within that language.
Every human baby born into a human community inherits a language which has existed before his or her birth and will presumably exist after his or her death. Much of that baby's education, from infancy through maturity (or even through graduate school) will consist in learning the language of its culture (and of its subculture). This is not an entirely passive process, for the growing child will be able to produce its own sentences and to produce its own thoughts—perhaps even to frame sentences and think thoughts which the world has never before known. But its liberty is set within limits, constrained by the social character of language. The child may limit itself to purely conventional use of language—e.g. "Hand me the sugar, please"—or may come to write poetry, like that of Gerard Manley Hopkins, in which the conventional rules of usage and meaning are stretched and refreshed. But individual human beings can never wholly liberate themselves from conventional grammar and meaning except at the cost of becoming unintelligible to those around them. To say "Globe he chair the" is to use ordinary English words in such a bizarre way and, apparently, at such a distance from recognized signification, as to speak mere gibberish. To use "book" for "boat," or to mean "amoeba" by "symphony," is to put an end to communication—at least until someone manages to decode the speaker's private language.
It is our contention that there exists a fairly coherent basic meaning to the term "Christian" and its lexical equivalents in other languages, a meaning which can be traced throughout, and illustrated by, a long and richly documented history. Since this meaning is well established, latecomers have only a very limited ability to alter it, much in the same way that the new-born infant possesses only a constrained freedom in using its received language. To use the word "Christian" in a new and different sense is to limit communication—or even to mislead—until outsiders are able to decode and understand that new and different usage.
We shall survey the way the word "Christian" has historically been used, and shall argue that the historic meaning of the term is clearly broad enough to include The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as well as fundamentalist anti-Mormons. We shall also contend that attempts to redefine the term have thus far failed to create a new definition that, in excluding Mormons, would not also exclude millions of people, past and present, commonly regarded as Christians.
Notably, we shall discover that the Roman Catholic Church—no insignificant part of what ordinary speakers and writers think of when they use the word "Christian"—is subject to many of the same arguments as are the Latter-day Saints, and prey to a very similar intolerance. Mainstream Protestant writer Lloyd Averill, for instance, who has listened to fundamentalist denunciations of Mormons and Roman Catholics, hears in them "frustration, outrage, desperation, and latent violence."49 Let us note here just a few of the rhetorical similarities. Bob Witte has devoted an entire pamphlet, "Mormonism: The $3.00 Bill of Christianity," to the metaphor of other-people's-religion-as-counterfeit. It is not his metaphor alone, however, for anti-Catholics, too, offer deliverance "from the darkness of a counterfeit religious system."50 Gleason Archer's description of Mormonism as a "dangerous counterfeit of the historic Christian faith" can easily be matched by Keith Green's similar intimations about Roman Catholicism.51 Jimmy Swaggart terms the Church of Rome "a shimmering mirage that lures men to their deaths as they die of thirst . . . that delivers eternal torment instead of eternal life."52 To pick up another common theme, G. H. Fraser seems occasionally to deny that Mormonism is really a religion at all. Rather, it is a giant business scam, hiding behind religion. "The presidents and prophets of the past several decades have been much more prone to receive their revelations from the spirit of Dow-Jones." Indeed, Fraser remarks that, "The names of the two priesthoods are the only element that lends a religious flavor to the structure of the priesthood."53 This, too, can be paralleled in fundamentalist attacks on the Church of Rome: "Our American freedoms," cries Rev. Loraine Boettner, "are being threatened today by two totalitarian systems, Communism and Roman Catholicism. And of the two in our country, Romanism is growing faster than is Communism and is more dangerous since it covers its real nature with a cloak of religion."54 Boettner's refusal to grant the religiousness of Roman Catholicism is paralleled by the refusal of certain other anti-Catholics even to refer to the Roman Catholic Church. To the Rev. Donald F. Maconaghie, as well as to the writers of Chick Publications, there is only "the Roman 'Church,'" or "the Roman Catholic Institution."55 The charge of "paganism," too, is not restricted to Mormons, but is directed against Catholics as well.56 The Church of Rome, according to one source, is "based on fetishism and sorcery."57 And Jimmy Swaggart argues that the Catholic practice of auricular confession, along with many other elements of both doctrine and practice, "has its origins in heathenistic, pagan rituals."58
The question of whether the Church of Rome is even Christian at all is a big one among fundamentalists. "Catholicism," writes Karl Keating, summarizing the position taken by many of these fundamentalists, "is part Christian, part pagan, and wholly to be rejected."59 And Jimmy Swaggart, at least, is less ambivalent than even Keating's summary would suggest: Catholicism, he says, "is a false religion. It is not a Christian religion."60 "Rome fulfills the prophetic description of the 'Whore' [of Revelation 17] in every way!" scream the advertisements of Chick Publications. "There is nothing 'Christian' about her."61
In the course of this study, in fact, we shall see that the very people who want to run the Latter-day Saints out of Christendom don't have a great deal of affection for most of the rest of their fellow Christians, either. Lloyd Averill does not exaggerate when he speaks of the "refusal of fundamentalists to recognize that anything Christlike is happening outside of the fundamentalist movement," of their extreme and strident rhetoric. We shall see little reason, in the course of the present study, to reject Averill's description of fundamentalism as "ungenerous and unlovely."62
Those who deny that Mormonism is Christian usually imagine that they are doing so on the basis of a standard they find in the Bible. "In order to be a Christian," wrote "Dr." Walter Martin with all the air of a man asking something both simple and self-evident, "one must conform to the Scriptures."63 (Martin's claim raises certain obvious questions from the start: Just how simple and unambiguous are the Scriptures? Must one conform absolutely and in every detail? How much deviance, if any, is allowed before one ceases to be a Christian? Is there only one possible scriptural position? If so, can both Quakers and Presbyterians be Christians? Methodists and Anglicans? Pre-millennialists and post-millennialists?64 Charismatics and non-charismatics? Fundamentalists, notes Karl Keating, are "convinced . . . that the Bible is easy to understand, and convinced that all its parts admit but one interpretation and that anyone interpreting differently must be acting in bad faith."65 But we will leave such questions for another place.) What such a rule would mean in practice—"if you do not conform to [my reading of] the scriptures, you are not a Christian"—is evident from the writings of Martin's fundamentalist ally, Loraine Boettner, who (somewhat incoherently and illogically) informs us that "if the Roman Church were reformed according to Scripture, it would have to be abandoned."66 "The best book written against Romanism," says Joseph Zacchello, "was not written by a Protestant or by a former priest, but by God. It is the BIBLE."67 We shall first examine whether Scripture provides us with a clear definition of what a Christian is, or what beliefs he or she must adhere to in order to retain the title. If it does not, the anti-Mormon case is unintelligible and should be dismissed as having no biblical authority.
Does the New Testament Define "Christianity"?
Several leading anti-Mormons cite as their mandate for a crusade against The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints the two verses of Jude 3–4, wherein the New Testament admonishes them to "earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints. For there are certain men crept in unawares, who were before of old ordained to this condemnation, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ."68
But how does this apply to the Mormons? Do the Latter-day Saints somehow deny the Father and the Son? Not according to the first Article of Faith, which specifically affirms belief in both. Are the Latter-day Saints peculiarly prone to "lasciviousness"? Where is the evidence for a claim like that? It seems quite clear that the admonition of Jude 3–4 for followers of Christ to "earnestly contend for the faith" against "ungodly men" cannot refer specifically to Mormons or Mormonism. And, in fact, since the Mormons don't really fit Jude's description particularly well, it seems rather difficult to apply these verses to them at all.
So, having established the negative proposition that Jude 3–4 does not apply to the Latter-day Saints in any obvious way, we must ask ourselves what the occasion for Jude's exhortation actually was. The answer to that question is significant. A reading of the entire epistle makes it clear that Jude's concern was at least as much ethical as theological. The people he opposed were encouraging "lasciviousness" [aselgeia, or "sexual transgression"]. His target was a group of Christians, antinomians, who rejected authority and understood divine grace as sanctioning flagrant immorality.69 This appears to be rather an odd analogy to use on the Mormons, whom our "experts" tend to consider too concerned with "works-righteousness" and too devoted to a priesthood.70 After all, haven't the Latter-day Saints long insisted that sexual sin was second only to murder or to the denial of the Holy Ghost in its seriousness? (See Alma 39:5.)
It is apparent, then, that Jude 3–4 does not legitimize a campaign against the Mormons. Instead, it calls upon believers in Christ to combat immorality and to condemn sin—the very position taken by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If anyone today stands in need of the kind of rebuke suggested by Jude 3–4, it would have to be someone who exaggerates the role of grace. And someone like that is more likely to be found among the critics of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints than among the Mormons.
Other prominent writers against the Latter-day Saints and others who diverge from conservative Protestant orthodoxy vaguely cite the Bible as a whole as the basis and justification for their efforts. P. B. Smith, a Canadian writer, will serve to illustrate this position.71 "The Christian Bible," Smith writes, "is insistent upon the ground rules and the necessity of testing any group of people who call themselves Christians: 'Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world. Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God: And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of anti-Christ, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world. . . . Hereby know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error' (1 John 4:1–3, 6). Whatever else this passage says, it indicates that everybody who uses the name of Jesus Christ is not a Christian."72
But this is precisely what the passage in question does not say. The word "Christian" is neither defined in it nor even mentioned. Only one doctrinal standard is laid down: The spirit of truth will not teach gnosticism or docetism—early Christian heresies which denied or downplayed the reality of Jesus' physical body—but will affirm the actual incarnation of Christ; it will not teach that Christ was only spiritually the Son of God, or that he did not have an actual body of flesh and blood. "Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God" (1 John 4:15).
Do the Latter-day Saints deny that Jesus is the Son of God? No, for the first Article of Faith and literally hundreds of passages in their scriptural books teach his divine Sonship in the most explicit terms. Do they deny that he had a real body, a body of literal flesh and blood? Absolutely not. Indeed, fundamentalist critics of Mormonism have usually argued that it views the advent of Christ in too carnal terms.73 Given their complaints on that score, anti-Mormons certainly cannot deny that Mormons regard Jesus as the Son of God. How, then, can they apply 1 John 4 to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? They cannot. It is entirely irrelevant.
"Who is a Christian?" asks Frederick Sontag. "When one considers this question, the most interesting thing to note is that Jesus did not say much about it."74 But, in fact, Professor Sontag understates the case. If one is looking for explicit treatment of the word "Christian," Jesus said absolutely nothing on the question. The striking thing about the New Testament's use of the word "Christian" is its infrequency. Indeed, the word appears only three times, and never in the mouth of Jesus.75 (The term "Christianity" is completely absent.) And close examination of those three occurrences will easily show that they offer no grounds for expelling Mormons from Christendom.
In Acts 11:26 we are told that "the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch."76 Here, the use of the passive verb—they "were called Christians"—allows us to infer that the term was first used by non-Christians.77 That is to say that the Christians did not, at first, call themselves by that name. In fact, as E. H. Trenchard notes of the biblical evidence, "In early times this name was mainly used by outsiders or by enemies."78 It was "originally used as a pagan designation."79 "It is a characteristically Gentile appellation," declares F. F. Bruce, "and would never have been devised by Jews."80 Instead, the term "Christian" was modeled on such words as "Herodian" and "Caesarian," already in circulation, probably on the mistaken assumption that the title "Christ," a Greek translation of the Hebrew "Messiah," was a proper name like "Herod" and "Caesar."81 "Christian" probably meant nothing more complicated, originally, than "Christ's people" or, perhaps, "partisans of Christ."82 (In the United States, we have frequently called people "Jacksonian democrats," or "Freudian analysts," or "Marxists," or "Darwinians." The history of Christianity is amply supplied with "Augustinians," "Pelagians," "Lutherans," "Calvinists," "Mennonites," and the like. All of these titles occur on the same principle as "Christian.")
Who were these people who first were called "Christians"? What was the composition of the Church at Antioch, which drew that designation from outsiders? For one thing, it included "prophets" (Acts 13:1).83 (This should give some critics of Mormonism food for thought, for they often claim that Jesus Christ is the final revelation of God, and that there can consequently be no prophets after him. Yet, here, the first congregation of Jesus' followers to receive the title of "Christian" is characterized, precisely, by Christian prophets.)
Many of the congregants in the Antioch branch were Hellenistic; the group was deeply involved with the Gentile mission and heavily influenced by Pauline teachings.84 Outsiders probably began to notice that Christians were not merely another sect of Jews because the church at Antioch did not require circumcision of converts.85 But to leave it at that would be to commit a gross oversimplification. The careful presentation of John P. Meier on the subject shows clearly that there were, among the "Christians" of Antioch, believers along the whole spectrum of attitudes toward the Jewish law. Paul's was not only not the only influence at Antioch, it was not the dominant one.86 Why is that fact important? Simply because Mormons are often expelled from Christendom because they do not accept the supposedly Pauline doctrine of salvation by grace alone. But neither, it seems, did members of that Antiochene congregation who were the very first in the Old World to receive the title of "Christian."
Amid the various theological strands that characterized Antiochene Christianity, loyalty to Jesus Christ was the unifying thread. This is of the utmost significance. Considering his study on Unity and Diversity in the New Testament, James D. G. Dunn points out "the surprising extent to which the different unifying factors in first-century Christianity focus again and again on Christ, on the unity between Jesus the man and Jesus the exalted one. And when we ask in addition what both unifies and marks out the distinctiveness of first-century Christianity, the unifying stand narrows again and again to Christ alone. As soon as we move beyond it, as soon as we begin to attempt to fill it out in word or practice, diversity quickly becomes as prominent as unity. And the more we attempt to add to it, the more disagreement and controversy we find ourselves caught up in. In the final analysis then, the unity of first-century Christianity focuses (often exclusively) on Jesus the man now exalted, Christ crucified but risen."87
What makes a person a Christian in the first century, and what makes a person a Christian today, is, simply, a commitment to Jesus Christ. Such commitment is central to the religion of the Latter-day Saints. It is evident in their hymns, their scriptures, their prayers, and their religious rituals. Clearly, there is nothing in Acts 11:26 which will justify a denial that Mormons are Christians.
In Acts 26:28, Agrippa II makes his famous reply to Paul: "A little more, and your arguments would make a Christian of me."88 This statement occurs after a brief speech by Paul at Caesarea, in which the apostle relates to Agrippa and Festus the story of his conversion.89 The doctrinal content of Paul's speech is slight, but that slightness is itself deeply significant: Paul bears witness that Jesus had been foretold by the Jewish prophets, that he suffered and rose from the dead, and that it is through Jesus that forgiveness may be obtained. Paul describes his mission as that of summoning people to "repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance" (Acts 26:20). There is no evidence that the apostle's speech at Caesarea mentioned original sin, or a metaphysical trinity, or salvation by grace alone, or ex nihilo creation, or any of the other doctrines for which, as we shall see, Mormons are expelled from Christendom by zealous critics. Yet Paul does not deny Agrippa's perception of his minimal theological statement as a summation of "Christianity" (Acts 26:29).
If Paul's statement to Agrippa and Festus is accepted as a scriptural test for the Christianity of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Mormons pass easily. Do they believe that the Jewish prophets foretold the coming of Jesus Christ? Emphatically yes. Indeed, the three books of scripture revealed through the Prophet Joseph Smith offer prophecies of the advent of Christ which are far clearer and more specific than anything found in the present text of the Hebrew Bible. Do Mormons believe that Jesus suffered and rose from the dead? Absolutely! "The fundamental principles of our religion," Joseph Smith said, "are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it."90 Do Mormons believe that it is through Jesus Christ that forgiveness may be obtained? The third Article of Faith should leave no doubt of that. Nor should literally scores if not hundreds of passages in the scriptures of the Latter-day Saints. Do Mormons believe it their duty to summon people to "repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance"? Without a doubt they do. (See, for example, D&C 6:9; 11:9; 14:8; 18:14, 41; 19:21, 31; 36:6; 44:3; etc.) Do Mormons call upon their hearers to do good works? Indeed they do, and this is one of the charges which their critics inconsistently bring against them, claiming that it shows them to be non-Christian. In fact, the Latter-day Saints meet Paul's minimum statement of Christianity remarkably well. If there is anyone who should be doing some soul-searching on this point, it might well be those who condemn The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for teaching that men and women must "do works meet for repentance." Acts 26:28 cannot plausibly be used to purge Mormons from Christianity.
It will be noted that in neither of the two instances discussed above is the term "Christian" found in the mouth of the Apostle Paul. Instead, it is found in the mouths of unbelieving outsiders. This is significant, since, as we have mentioned, it is often against the standard of allegedly Pauline teachings that Mormonism is weighed in the balance and found "non-Christian."91 If Paul himself did use the word "Christian," there is no New Testament proof that he did, and no scriptural indication whatsoever as to how he might have used it. Thus, there is no Pauline definition of the term and no Pauline reason to deny that Mormons are Christians. Enemies of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who seek biblical justification for banishing it from Christendom will have to look elsewhere for ammunition, and they have only one more chance:
1 Peter 4:16 represents the last relevant New Testament passage.92 Yet it is virtually without theological content, merely assuring the believer that he need not worry if he suffer as a "Christian." Persecution is contrasted with suffering "as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer." And even here, perhaps, we are to think of "Christian" as an identification made by persecuting outsiders, just as "murderer," "thief," and "evildoer" might be judgments rendered by a Roman court.93 It is, says F. F. Bruce, "by implication used by non-Christians."94
We might also note that being "Christian" here probably has a behavioral aspect. After all, suffering "as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer" clearly would flow from something the sufferer does. A person is not punished merely for holding the theoretical belief that murder might be acceptable. (In an instance like this, faith without representative works is legally irrelevant.) A thief is not merely a believer in the abstract redistribution of wealth. Both of these are "evildoers," and it is as evildoers that they suffer or are punished by the law. If Peter really meant that suffering as a "Christian" was analogous to suffering "as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer," is it not logical to infer that he saw "Christianity" as expressing itself in behavior? So do the Latter-day Saints! It is Mormon insistence upon the necessity of repentance and good works which, as we shall see below, leads many anti-Mormons to deny that the Latter-day Saints are Christian. If, for this offense, they are thrust from the Christian fold, they may well find Peter already outside the wall. This is not bad company to keep.
Manifestly, the charge that Mormonism fails to meet the New Testament definition of "Christianity" is utterly groundless, for the simple reason that no such definition exists. The word "Christianity" does not even occur in the text. On the other hand, of course, the term "Christian" does occur, albeit rarely. It, too, remains undefined, although its context in the three places where it is to be found allows us perhaps to infer some very basic notions about how New Testament writers used it.
How does Mormonism fare, following an exhaustive survey—not hard to manage!—of the rather sparse biblical data on this question? The Latter-day Saints do extremely well. They meet every criterion. By every New Testament standard, Mormons are Christians.
A test case will make this completely clear: Robert McKay, a dedicated anti-Mormon who is based in Oklahoma, tells us that one must be "born again" in order to be a Christian. He bases his assertion upon John 3:7.95 "The New Testament definition of a Christian is one who has been born again," he says.96 But there is a problem here, as the alert reader can easily see by now. The problem is that John 3:7 does not mention the word "Christian"—and, thus, can hardly be said to "define" it or to lay down conditions for its use. Indeed, the word "Christian" does not occur in the gospel of John at all, nor, for that matter, in any of the four gospels. Robert McKay's insistence that the New Testament defines the word "Christian" leads us to wonder if he might have a larger New Testament than we have, one perhaps outfitted with extra books. For we can find no definition of the term in any New Testament passage known to us.
The claim of anti-Mormons that the New Testament itself clearly excludes The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from Christendom is hereby shown to be baseless, to be totally without foundation. In a very real sense, the entire overall question of whether Mormonism is Christian is already decided, and nothing more need be said. But charity is an important biblical virtue, and so we should, perhaps, permit the critics to have their say. Still, it should never be forgotten amidst all the names and dates and details which will follow that, by the (admittedly rather vague) standard of the New Testament, the Latter-day Saints have been demonstrated to fall within Christianity. No issue discussed below can call that demonstration into question.
Do Denials That Latter-day Saints Are Christians Find Support in the Early Church?
As we have seen, the term "Christian" began its career among outsiders, "more as an insult than as a title of honor."97 The great Roman historian, Tacitus (d. A.D. 120), for example, was able to describe how Nero's persecuting zeal fell upon "a class of men, loathed for their vices, whom the crowd styled Christians."98 Indeed, it is not until the second century that we can document use of the designation among Christians themselves.99 By February of 156, Polycarp of Smyrna could boldly declare to the Roman proconsul, just prior to his martyrdom, "I am a Christian."100 (It is ironic that any attempt to define the term "Christian" based on noncanonical texts earlier than the second century must necessarily rely upon its use by pagans.)
Of course, it is not uncommon that nicknames are adopted by their targets. One thinks of "Yankee" or, for that matter, of "Mormon."101 But what did the early Christians mean by their use of the term? It will be interesting to survey, briefly, some of the earliest writings we have from Christians outside of the New Testament. It is not, of course, that we think these early documents scriptural, or believe that they should be included in the canon. Still, they are extremely early—in a few cases, some scholars have argued, perhaps earlier than certain books in the New Testament itself—and they provide an extremely useful window for observing just how the earliest Christians viewed themselves and how they used words. (Furthermore, it should be recalled that these earliest writers knew the apostles. They spoke the language of the New Testament. There is good reason to believe, therefore, that they had at least some notion of what earliest Christian teaching was about. Twentieth-century Christians should dispute their views only with good reason.)
Of these early writers, Ignatius of Antioch is particularly important for our present purposes. He is the early writer who most commonly uses the word "Christian." How does he use it? In a very interesting way. In his Epistle to the Romans, Ignatius addresses his co-believers with regard to his own impending martyrdom: "Only pray for me for strength, both inward and outward, that I may not merely speak, but also have the will, that I may not only be called a Christian, but may also be found to be one."102 He got his wish, and was thrown to the beasts at Rome under Trajan, ca. A.D. 108. Plainly, to Ignatius, who—significantly103—was the third bishop of Antioch, being a Christian depended at least partially upon behavioral criteria.104 He wanted to really be one. "A Christian . . . gives his time to God," he writes to Polycarp. "This is the work of God."105 On several occasions, he summons his readers to be "imitators of God."106 On another occasion he exhorts the Magnesians, "Let us learn to lead Christian lives."107 Ignatius is faithful, in other words, to an important part of the heritage of his church in Antioch, reiterating the ethical emphasis of the gospel of Matthew—which, many scholars think, was very likely written there only a few decades earlier.108
Outsiders, too, sometimes noticed the great emphasis given by Christians to moral behavior. Writing sometime between A.D. 97 and A.D. 109, Pliny the Younger describes a regular "ceremony" practiced in the early church: Christians, he tells the Emperor Trajan, "bind themselves by oath . . . to abstain from theft, robbery, and adultery, to commit no breach of trust and not to deny a deposit when called upon to restore it."109 (It is frequently alleged against Mormon temple worship, by the way, that oaths are forbidden by the New Testament. Apparently, either the earliest Christians did not understand this or else the anti-Mormons are wrong.)
In his Epistle to the Ephesians, Ignatius appears to presume yet another sense of the term "Christian," an ecclesiastical one, when he writes of "the Christians of Ephesus, who . . . were ever of one mind with the Apostles."110 This is consistent with his Epistle to the Magnesians, where he declares that "we should be really Christians, not merely have the name."111 And how do we do so? The burden of this epistle is that we must be subject to the authority of the bishop, who presides "in the place of God."112
It cannot, of course, be denied that, for Ignatius, being a Christian involves more than simply moral behavior and obedience to priesthood authority. Still it must not be overlooked that he regards these traits (heavily criticized by anti-Mormons when occuring in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) as essential to true Christianity. In addition, however, he also gives us a few theological guidelines to follow. Ignatius is the first writer known to have used the term "Christianity," which he explicitly contrasts with "Judaism."113 Much like Paul before Agrippa—and much like the statement of Joseph Smith, quoted above—he bears witness of Christ's birth, death, and resurrection. Against the Docetics, who teach of Jesus that "his suffering was only a semblance," Ignatius affirms that the Savior "was truly born, both ate and drank . . . [and] was truly crucified."114 "I beseech you therefore," he writes to the Trallians, "live only on Christian fare, and refrain from strange food, which is heresy."115
Here, at last, we seem to have a doctrinal criterion for what is and what is not Christian. However, Ignatius's own doctrinal position is not unambiguous. He has, for example, secret teachings which he refuses to reveal in his letters.116 Furthermore, how enlightening is it, really, to discover that "Christianity" is not identical with "Judaism"? And in answer to the implicit question of how one is to distinguish truth from heresy, Ignatius immediately falls back on lines of priesthood authority.117 "This will be possible for you," he declares, "if you are not puffed up, and are inseparable from God, from Jesus Christ and from the bishop and ordinances of the Apostles. He who is within the sanctuary is pure, but he who is without the sanctuary is not pure, that is to say, whoever does anything apart from the bishop and the presbytery and the deacons is not pure in his conscience."118 And as for the "strange food" of the heretics, which Ignatius contrasts with "Christian fare," is it not reasonable to see in that an allusion by the bishop of Antioch to eucharistic service—which is to say, in Mormon terms, to the administration of the sacrament—conducted by invalid authority? "Let no one," he admonishes the Smyrnaeans, "do any of the things appertaining to the Church without the bishop. Let that be considered a valid Eucharist which is celebrated by the bishop, or by one whom he appoints."119
"Let no one be deceived," Ignatius warns the Smyrnaeans. Even the heavenly hosts are subject to judgment. And then the saint applies his ethical standard to the heretics: "Mark those who have strange opinions concerning the grace of Jesus Christ which has come to us, and see how contrary they are to the mind of God. For love they have no care, none for the widow, none for the orphan, none for the distressed, none for the afflicted, none for the prisoner, or for him released from prison, none for the hungry or thirsty."120 They have, in other words, forgotten what James 1:27 describes as "pure religion and undefiled." But it is not only James who insisted on ethical standards as a means of identifying the real followers of Christ, for statements by Jesus himself are recorded in the Gospels which are relevant to the question at issue. The most famous is probably that of John 13:35: "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples [mathetai], if ye have love one to another." Thus, in their emphasis upon behavior as a key to identity as a disciple of Christ, both James and Ignatius faithfully follow their master. For Ignatius, Walter Grundmann notes, "Christianismos simply means discipleship." It is "being a Christian as expressed in life-style."121 This ethical view of Christianity is common to others among the first Christian writers as well. The early-second-century Shepherd of Hermas, for instance, one of the so-called "Apostolic Fathers," views Christianity as "above all, a series of precepts that must be followed."122 (The Latter-day Saints, of course, can certainly live with this ethical emphasis found among the earliest Christians. But what of their critics?)
As is implied in the assertion that "the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch," the original word applied to the followers of Jesus was "disciples."123 It was, states Grundmann, "obviously the term which the original believers used for themselves."124 K. H. Rengstorf argues that the Greek mathetes, "disciple," is merely a translation of the Hebrew talmidh, and that it derives from the common name which Palestinian Christians used in self-description. It gave way to the term "Christian" only as the Church became more and more Hellenized.125
What did the earliest followers of Jesus understand by "discipleship"? Rengstorf sees three—largely behavioral—elements in their view: (1) commitment to the person of Jesus; (2) obedience to Jesus; and (3) obligation to suffer with Jesus.126 "Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed" (John 8:31).127 Commenting on this verse, Bruce Vawter remarks, "Merely to be receptive to the word is not enough; one must also take it in and act on it constantly. Then alone can one be a true disciple of the Lord."128 "This is my Father's glory, that you may bear fruit in plenty and so be my disciples" (John 15:8, New English Bible).129
Being a disciple of Jesus was not an easy thing. "Those who responded," writes Frederick Sontag, "left their family, friends and conventional religious practices to follow an itinerant preaching, healing ministry which was at time subject to danger. To follow Jesus meant to abandon convention and to join a religious cult [!] of the day. . . . Thus, the most obvious definition for 'Christian' would be: 'One called to follow Jesus' no matter what danger or ostracism is involved."130 Discipleship, thus, demanded behavior, actions—works.
It appears that there are few if any guidelines to be found in the New Testament or in earliest Christianity for ruling on who is, and who is not, Christian. And apart from a condemnation of Docetism, there are no doctrinal criteria given whatsoever. There is, furthermore, sufficient ambiguity in the records left behind by the earliest Christians that the question of just which doctrine and what practice is authentically "primitive" has historically remained very much open. In late antiquity, each Christian sect claimed apostolicity.131 And if the situation was confused in ancient times, it has only grown worse with the passage of time. Among nineteenth-century American Protestants, Klaus Hansen observes, "each church conceived of itself as conforming more closely to the primitive church than any of its rivals."132 Despite Walter Martin's complacency about "conform[ing] to the Scriptures," such conformity seems to be both difficult and controversial.
Why should it be so difficult to get a fix on the pure Christianity of the earliest believers? Modern biblical and patristic scholarship would reply that this is because there never was a golden age of unambiguous and unanimously held Christian truth. The important evangelical scholar James D. G. Dunn denies that "orthodoxy" is a meaningful concept within the New Testament period. There is no single preaching or proclamation of the gospel (Greek kerygma), but, rather, multiple and conflicting forms of such preaching and proclamation (kerygmata). Dunn recognizes "a marked degree of diversity" and "many different expressions of Christianity within the NT."133 Even fundamentalists are willing to avail themselves of this idea when it proves useful to them: "The fact is," says Loraine Boettner, going after the Catholics, "that [the Church fathers] scarcely agree on any doctrine, and even contradict themselves as they change their minds and affirm what they had previously denied."134
Terms like "orthodoxy" and "heresy" seem increasingly—to modern objective scholarship—to be mere self-congratulatory epithets worked up by the victors in the dogmatic skirmishes of Christian history. In earliest Christianity, the two are often impossible to distinguish, at least without the benefit of hindsight. In many areas, the "heretics" were the established church, while the "orthodox" were the damnable minority. And this is not merely the case in later, "apostate" centuries. The New Testament itself contains conflicting perspectives and positions that, many scholars would contend, resist even the most determined harmonizer.
Protestant critics who like to contrast Mormonism with "biblical" Christianity—a uniform Pauline abstraction that never fit the reality of the Christian church, even in its first centuries—argue from a mirage.135 "The ancient church produced a vast number of theological attempts to interpret Christianity," writes Norbert Brox. "These theologies differ very widely from one another, according to period, environment, points of departure, and intention, and they show the breadth of the options which then existed for understanding the Christian faith."136
Clearly, if it is thought to rest upon standards derived from the New Testament or from immediately postapostolic Christianity, the anti-Mormon case for expelling Mormons from Christendom is without substance. Earliest Christians liked to describe their fellowship and their community in ethical terms—terms with which the Latter-day Saints, given their emphasis on good works and "living together in love" (D&C 42:45) can certainly feel comfortable. Their critics, on the other hand, may actually feel less at ease with the early Christians and all their talk of "works" than the Mormons do. Thus, lacking both biblical support and support from the earliest generations of ancient believers, these critics are driven to seek another reason to banish The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from the Christian fold. Is there is another possibility? Is there another weapon?
Can the Councils and Creeds Be Used to Banish Mormonism from Christendom?
The majority of anti-Mormons probably belong to so-called "non-denominational" churches.137 These predominantly conservative and fundamentalist institutions are typified by the Interlake Christian Church near Seattle, which claims in its advertising to have "No Creed but Christ, No Book but the Bible, No Name but Christian." Of course, the Interlake slogan is itself a creedal statement. And no Christian—least of all a precritical fundamentalist—comes to the Bible or to Christ without presuppositions that reflect his society and upbringing. Further, is it likely that even the most backward Protestant is utterly deaf to the great debates in which Christian theology has been shaped through the centuries? Is it probable that, standing at the end of twenty centuries of doctrinal development, he understands his English Bible in precisely the way that a first-century Palestinian Christian heard and understood the sermons of Peter? Did the great movements of Platonism and Aristotelianism and Neoplatonism and Manichaeanism and Augustinianism and Averroism and Thomism, which surged for centuries about and within Christendom, really have no effect at all? The implied answer given in most anti-Mormon sources is no, none whatsoever. Karl Keating explains this quite well: "Fundamentalists think the intervening centuries have not made the Bible any more confusing for us than it was for people who lived in New Testament times, and they think that way (although they do not realize it) because they begin, not with the Bible, but with an accepted set of beliefs, which they then substantiate by 'searching the Scriptures.'"138
Mormonism makes no secret of having sources of authority beyond the Bible. Latter-day Saints have never been shy about admitting—nay, proclaiming—that their understanding of the Bible is guided and enriched by revelations through modern prophets. Anti-Mormons, on the other hand, like to think that they represent pure biblical Christianity, arrayed against a Mormonism that is "decadent" and "syncretistic" (precisely because of its extrabiblical sources). Yet this is highly implausible on the face of it. "Fundamentalists use the Bible to protect beliefs that are, in fact, antecedent to the Bible, which is interpreted so it justifies what they already hold, although most fundamentalists think what they believe comes straight out of the sacred text and that they are merely acknowledging its plain meaning."139 Besides, we have already shown that the Bible offers no real reason to deny that Mormonism is Christian. So anti-Mormons have recourse—overtly in some cases or, as is more common, implicitly—to doctrinal principles that are, at the very best, doubtfully present in primitive Christianity. Quite often, these doctrinal principles derive either directly or indirectly from the classical creeds, which were hammered out in and around the great councils of the ancient post-apostolic Christian church.
The so-called "ecumenical councils" of the Church (from the Greek oikoumene, or "world") are normally reckoned as being approximately twenty-one in number. Of these, most Protestants accept only the first seven as binding and doctrinally authoritative. The first was the famous Council of Nicaea (A.D. 325). This was followed by the first Council of Constaninople in A.D. 381, and by the Council of Ephesus, in A.D. 431. The important Council of Chalcedon, in A.D. 451, was succeeded by the second and third Councils of Constantinople, in A.D. 553 and 680, respectively. Finally, the second Council of Nicaea took place in A.D. 787. These councils were essentially legislative sessions, in which bishops and theologians from across the Roman/Byzantine Emp ire came together to debate each other about doctrinal issues great and small, to identify and condemn heresies and heretics, and to issue declarations or creeds.
These creeds, convenient doctrinal summaries formulated by theologians to express their own beliefs and to rule out the beliefs and formulations of those with whom they disagreed, are usually divided into several categories. First, there are the "ecumenical creeds," These are products—or, at least, claim to be products—of the entire Church, of bishops representing all Christians in the world. There are other categories as well, including Eastern Catholic, Western Catholic, and Provincial creeds. (Later Protestant denominational "confessions" are frequently discussed under a separate category altogether.) We will be concerned here with the "ecumenical creeds." These are the statements which purport to express the universal judgment of Christians. They are generally identified as three—the Apostles' Creed, the Nicene Creed, and the so-called Athanasian Creed. The later, however, gained its stature only in the thirteenth century, and is most definitely not by Athanasius (d. A.D. 373). It may therefore safely be omitted.
What does the historical record of these assemblies and their resolutions imply about the Christianity of the Latter-day Saints? Distinctly little. The great creeds and the ecumenical councils of mainstream Christendom—while they can clearly be used to demonstrate that Mormonism is out of step with the evolution of "historic Christianity," a proposition no informed Latter-day Saint would care to dispute—furnish very weak grounds upon which to deny that Mormons are Christian. This is so for at least three reasons: (1) the creeds do not include all the groups generally viewed as Christian; (2) they are themselves innovative, and of a nature foreign to the Bible; and (3) the ecumenical councils that generated the creeds have never been viewed as consigning those whom they anathematized to "non-Christianity."140
Of course, certain creedlike passages can be located in the Bible itself, although not of the metaphysical type popular in succeeding centuries. Both Protestant and Catholic scholars recognize 1 Corinthians 15:1–11, for example, as a very early Christian creedal statement, not unrelated to Paul's speech before Festus and Agrippa. The Protestant editors of the popular New International Version of the Bible, commenting upon 1 Corinthians 15:3–4, point out that these verses contain "the heart of the gospel," which, following Paul's own language, they summarize as the belief "that Christ died for our sins . . . that he was buried . . . and that he was raised from the dead."141 The resemblance between this early Christian creed, containing "the heart of the gospel," and Joseph Smith's statement, already cited above, is so striking that the latter is worth quoting here again: "The fundamental principles of our religion," Joseph Smith wrote, "are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it."142 Mormons accept such propositions fully—and in a much more literal way than do, say, liberal Protestants. In the language of the editors of the New International Version, they thereby accept "the heart of the gospel." Yet this makes no difference in the eyes of their critics, who persist in calling them non-Christians.
Once again, however, the Bible fails to support this expulsion of the Latter-day Saints from Christendom. Thus, a post-biblical instrument is needed to justify such an un-biblical move. J. O. Sanders, for instance, identifies Christianity with the so-called Apostles' Creed,143 the brief text of which runs as follows: "I believe in God the Father Almighty; Maker of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ his only (begotten) Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell [Hades, spirit world]; the third day he rose from the dead; he ascended into heaven; and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic Church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body [flesh]; and life everlasting. Amen."144 Admittedly, Mormons do not use this creed. But failure to use the text of the creed in liturgy and worship would seem dangerous grounds for thrusting them from Christianity if they accept its principles. "If we take the recognition and use of the Apostles' Creed as our test," writes Einar Molland, "both the Orthodox Church and a number of Protestant Communions will fall outside the limits of Christendom, which would be absurd."145 But if it is "absurd" to claim that non-use of the Apostles' Creed expels the Orthodox and many Protestants from the Christian fold, it can be no less absurd to claim that such non-use banishes the Latter-day Saints. And indeed, as even some outside observers have noted, the Latter-day Saints do accept the creed's principles.146 For example, in their first Article of Faith, Latter-day Saints declare a belief in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Similarly, Latter-day Saints baptize in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Yet consistency sometimes seems too much to ask from anti-Mormons. While declaring acceptance of the Apostles' Creed to be the essence of Christianity, J. O. Sanders denies that the Latter-day Saints are Christians.147
If the Bible and the Apostolic Fathers and the simple text of the Apostolic Creed fail to justify denials that Mormons are Christians, perhaps later and more theologically detailed tools can be located to do the job. Since it is manifestly ridiculous to call the Latter-day Saints non-Christian when they accept a New Testament creed that represents "the heart of the gospel" and when they agree fully with a post-biblical creed which one of their own enemies has effectively described as the least common denominator that links and defines Christians, it will obviously be necessary to purge them from Christianity on the basis of non-essentials—however logically dubious such a course may be. And the later creeds are the obvious place to turn. For inessential speculation and post-biblical innovation, they are mines of unfathomable richness.
Among them, the Nicene Creed is almost certainly the most famous and the most important. Yet its very innovativeness makes it a most questionable basis for banishing the Latter-day Saints from Christendom. "It is impossible for any one," declared Edwin Hatch in his classic 1888 Hibbert Lectures, "whether he be a student of history or no, to fail to notice a difference of both form and content between the Sermon on the Mount and the Nicene Creed. The Sermon on the Mount is the promulgation of a new law of conduct; it assumes beliefs rather than formulates them; the theological conceptions which underlie it belong to the ethical rather than the speculative side of theology; metaphysics are wholly absent. The Nicene Creed is a statement partly of historical facts and partly of dogmatic inferences; the metaphysical terms which it contains would probably have been unintelligible to the first disciples;148 ethics have no place in it. The one belongs to a world of Jewish peasants, the other to a world of Greek philosophers. "The contrast," Hatch continues, "is patent. If any one thinks that it is sufficiently explained by saying that the one is a sermon and the other a creed, it must be pointed out in reply that the question why an ethical sermon stood in the forefront of the teaching of Jesus Christ, and a metaphysical creed in the forefront of the Christianity of the fourth century, is a problem which claims investigation."149
Some conservative bishops, even among those who were committed to the doctrinal position taken by the Council of Nicaea, were very much worried by the fact that, in the Nicene Creed, a word utterly foreign to the scriptures—homousios—was proclaimed the dogmatic standard for the church.150 This consideration ought to, but does not, give pause to those who would make of it—or any of its Hellenistic cousins—the sine qua non, the indispensable essence, of Christianity: Who gave the ecclesiastical diplomats of Nicaea the right to set up a definition of Christianity utterly unknown to the prophets, apostles, and evangelists of the Bible, and one which would almost certainly have been incomprehensible to them?
But a yet more fundamental question arises here, for there is no evidence that the statesmen and scholars of the Nicene Council ever claimed the authority to define "Christianity." This fact is universally overlooked by those who cite the Nicene Creed as their warrant for determining who is Christian and who is not, but it is of vital importance. While those who framed the Nicene Creed and sought to enforce it were quite willing to expel dissidents from the institutional church, we know of no evidence that they ever claimed they were thereby transforming those excommunicants into "non-Christians." And modern scholarship is unanimous, so far as we have been able to determine, in its implicit denial that condemnation by a creed or expulsion from a council made one a non-Christian. Nevertheless, "Dr." Walter Martin, calling Jehovah's Witnesses "Arians" and attempting thereby to thrust them from the Christian fold, asserts that Arius was excommunicated from the Christian church at the Council of Nicaea, in A.D. 325.151 His assertion is technically true but fundamentally misleading, since, as we have just pointed out, excommunication from the institutional church seems not to have been viewed by anyone concerned as making the excommunicant into a non-Christian. (Also excommunicated at Nicaea were the Quartodecimans, for holding a minority viewpoint on the proper date for Easter. Would "Dr." Martin seriously have contended that we should call the Quartodecimans non-Christian because of a quibble over the dating of Easter?) Arianism was given a major blow at Nicaea, it is true, and finally lost at the Council of Constantinople (in A.D. 381), but it is nonetheless routinely referred to as "Christian."152 And in the half-century intervening between Nicaea and Constantinople, Arianism enjoyed much more support than could plausibly have been commanded by a movement officially declared and widely recognized as non-Christian. It was, for example, backed by Constantine's son and successor, Constantius, and indeed was preferred by the majority of the Eastern bishops. Athanasius, on the other hand, who was the guiding force in the formulation of the creedal statement accepted at the Council at Nicaea, was, more often than not, in exile from his bishopric or in disfavor.
Since the Nicene Creed does not seem to have turned any of its dissenting contemporaries into non-Christians, it is frankly difficult to see how it could possibly cause such a metamorphosis in a group of people living a millennium and a half afterwards. And clearly it does not, since it is not accepted even by all those modern churches universally recognized as Christian.153 Thus, there is no substance to arguments that seek to force The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from Christianity on the basis of the Nicene Creed.
After a survey of the various creeds and councils, discussing in greater detail the kinds of problems to which we have alluded here, Einar Molland concludes that the Lord's Prayer is "the one creed of all branches of Christendom."154 All other creeds exclude one denomination or other that is universally recognized as Christian, which is clearly unacceptable and absurd. Acceptance of the Lord's Prayer, on the other hand, is implied by Molland to be a good demonstration of one's Christianity. What does this imply for the Christianity of Mormonism? The Latter-day Saints would find nothing troubling in Molland's rule, since, while they do not use the Lord's Prayer liturgically—they have very little liturgy to speak of—they certainly do accept it. Indeed, 3 Nephi 13:9–13 has the resurrected Christ teach the same prayer in the New World. Still—strangely, and with striking inconsistency—Einar Molland denies that Mormons are Christian.155 Once again, Latter-day Saint acceptance of something that makes everyone else Christian, something that their attackers elsewhere recognize as the very definition of "Christian," fails to gain them admission to the club.
Other councils of the ancient church can likewise be shown to furnish no basis for anti-Mormon assaults on the Christianity of the Latter-day Saints. In A.D. 431, for instance, the Council of Ephesus condemned Nestorius and his followers. Yet the Nestorians are invariably described as Christians.156 Furthermore, the verdict of that council is now generally recognized to have been unjust.157 The Monophysites, to choose another ancient faction, were condemned at the Council of Chalcedon in A.D. 451. Yet they—and their numbers include the Coptic, Armenian, Ethiopian, and Jacobite churches—are invariably described as Christian.158 Is there any authority anywhere who would dispute the claim of, say, the Egyptian Coptic Orthodox church, to the title "Christian"? The idea is preposterous. But is this merely a a matter of some bloodless modern "tolerance"? Clearly, no. In 531, that great persecutor of the Monophysites, the Emperor Justinian, sent envoys to the Monophysite Negus of Ethiopia, requesting, "by reason of our common faith," assistance in the war against the Sassanians.159 If excommunication by a council of the church made one a non-Christian, this fact seems to have escaped Justinian.
The Fifth Ecumenical Council, in A.D. 553, posthumously condemned Theodore of Mopsuestia, who had died in A.D. 428.160 He appears to have been a victim of the same passionate search for heresies and stumbles that seems to dominate some modern fundamentalists. Indeed, Norbert Brox characterizes the period of Theodore's excommunication in terms that could also be used to describe some brands of anti-Mormonism: "A nervous, polemical climate of polarization dominated the era, in which people absolutely waited for their enemies to commit dogmatic or political mistakes."161 Theodore was caught up in this unpleasant situation even though he had been dead for over a century. But his excommunication did not remove him from Christendom, and modern scholars invariably refer to him as a Christian.162
A look at other major "heresies" discloses that they also are, in both specialist and common usage, referred to as Christian. The Montanists, for example, were a faction of the second and third centuries A.D. whose chief sin was admitting postbiblical revelation. (In this respect, if no other, they prefigure the Mormons.) Yet they are always called Christians.163 Their most famous convert, the great Latin father, Tertullian, is indeed described by one historian as "the first Protestant."164 Similarly, Donatism, condemned as a heresy in 405 A.D., is considered to be Christian by the scholars who deal with it.165 Even more striking is the fact that authorities are not at all reluctant, in discussing what is perhaps the most radical complex of heresies ever to appear in Christendom, to speak of it as "Christian gnosticism." "Gnostics," writes Yale's Bentley Layton, "in fact made up one of the earliest and most long-lived branches of the ancient Christian movement."166 James D. G. Dunn is able to speak of "gnostic tendencies within first-century Christianity," expressly including the New Testament.167 Marcion and his followers are also routinely called Christians.168 Never condemned were the "Christian Platonists of Alexandria"—who surely represent a melding of biblical doctrines with pagan influences, and who count among their number some of the most illustrious thinkers in the history of Christendom.169 (Even the Docetists, who seem to be the only group that might, on the basis of earliest Christian writings, justifiably be termed non-Christian, are not.)170
Some critics of the Latter-day Saints would push the issue yet further, and would claim that Mormons cannot be Christian because they reject the ecumenical councils altogether. This, it is alleged, places them definitively beyond the boundaries of Christendom. However, such reasoning can only be described as arbitrary. As we have seen, Protestants accept but seven of the twenty-one ecumenical councils that have occurred in the course of Christian history. Should they be expelled from Christendom for that fact? Certain Eastern Orthodox Christians—Abyssinian or Ethiopian, Armenian, Coptic, and Syrian—reject all but the first three. Should they be termed pagans? Latter-day Saint scholar Stephen E. Robinson asks very important questions in this context: If the Ethiopians and Armenians and Copts and Syrians "can reject everything in traditional Christianity from the fifth century on and still be Christians, then where is the cutoff that marks how much can be rejected? If it can be as early as the fifth century, then why not as early as the second?" Furthermore, Robinson demands, "if the councils and creeds teach doctrines not found in the New Testament, on what authority must they be accepted? And if the councils and creeds merely repeat or summarize the doctrines of the New Testament without adding to them, then why is it necessary to accept them in addition to the New Testament itself?" Obviously, the demand that Mormons must accept the creeds and councils or be denounced as heathens rests upon rather shaky grounds. But even "if other churches argue that it is necessary for Latter-day Saints to accept the councils in order to be Christian, then we might well ask, Which councils must be accepted? How can these other churches themselves accept only three, or four, or seven, and not all twenty-one?"171
The implications of all this should be plain. We have seen that the Bible cannot be used to define The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints out of Christendom. Nor can the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. Nor can the ecumenical councils and the classical creeds of post-apostolic Christianity be used to achieve such a goal. The essential principles of Christianity as documented in the earliest sources are fully accepted by the Latter-day Saints, who easily qualify as Christians according to the earliest definitions.
The question is now settled, as indeed it was after we had examined the three New Testament occurrences of the word "Christian." Mormons are Christians. Nevertheless, it may be interesting to examine some of the specific standards that anti-Mormons claim to derive from the Bible, and by which they claim to be able to discern "true" Christians from false pretenders. In so doing, we will cite instances from Christian history and biography which illustrate the wide latitude allowed for variation and doctrinal dissent by common usage of the terms "Christian" and "Christianity." Some of the figures we shall cite (e.g. Augustine) are in the mainstream, while some (e.g. Origen and Thomas Müntzer) are less representative, chosen precisely because they indicate the range of possibilities allowable under the rubric of "Christian."
Specific Reasons Given for Denying That Latter-day Saints Are Christians
Claim 1. A newspaper advertisement being run by Ed Decker's Saints Alive in Jesus, playing on the Book of Mormon's claim to be "another testament of Jesus Christ," proclaims in bold headlines that "There is a Testament of Another Jesus Christ." "Mormonism claims to be a Christian church, but it does not have the same Jesus. Mormonism worships a false Christ (2 Cor. 11:4)," writes John L. Smith, of the Oklahoma-based Utah Missions, Inc. "Mormon leaders have admitted that they believe in another Jesus. One official of the Mormon church has declared, 'It is true that many of the Christian churches worship a different Jesus Christ than is worshipped by the Mormons.'"172
Response. This allegation, if true in the sense claimed for it by Rev. Smith, would be very damning. For if the Mormons were partisans of an individual who simply happened to bear the title "Christ," but was in reality a wholly distinct individual from the Jesus of Nazareth whom mainstream Christians worship the world over, Latter-day Saint claims to be Christian could be dismissed as true but misleading. The situation would be precisely equivalent to a debate between two biologists, both of whom claimed to be Darwinians. Biologist A, an evolutionist and a follower of the nineteenth century Englishman Charles Darwin, would be absolutely baffled by his opponent's claim to be simultaneously a "scientific creationist," an opponent of evolution, and a disciple of Darwin. "You certainly follow a different Darwin than I do," he would say. But Biologist A would only be puzzled until he realized that the Darwin whom Biologist B followed was the Rev. Jimmy Joe Darwin of the Deadprophets Bible Church in Jenningsbryan, Alabama. Thereupon, Biologist A would probably grow angry, and accuse Biologist B of playing with him—indeed of engaging in deliberate misrepresentation. "You know full well," he would insist, "that 'Darwinian' has a very specific and accepted meaning in common usage, and you were trading on it to cause confusion among your hearers."
It is precisely this accusation, of deliberately misleading outsiders, that is routinely made against The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is, however, also a charge that we are strongly tempted to turn against our accusers.
Is the Mormon official's "admission," quoted by John L. Smith, really significant? Almost certainly not, and for a very simple reason. The word "different" can be used in varying ways. Consider the following two sentences: "Paris today is a different city from the one I saw on my first visit many years ago." "Berdyaev was born in Moscow, but died an exile in a different city, Paris." Clearly, the "difference" in the first sentence is merely one of quality, while that in the second is actual or quantifiable or, if you will, numerical. Suppose that Biologist A, having learned that the "Darwin" followed by Biologist B was an entirely distinct individual from the "Darwin" he had thought under discussion, with different nationality, birthdate, location, and fingerprints, now repeated his statement to his opponent. "You certainly follow a different Darwin than I do!" It should be clear that this sentence now has a quite distinct meaning, although its wording has not changed in the least. The variation resides entirely in the shift in the word "different" from a qualitative sense to a numerical or quantitative one.
No knowledgeable Mormon would ever "admit" that his church worships a supernatural individual numerically distinct from the God and Christ of the Bible. Clearly the statement cited by Rev. Smith simply acknowledges the undeniable difference between the attributes ascribed to Jesus by Mormons and those ascribed to him by other Christians. Just as clearly, however, the person of whom those attributes are predicated is identical for both Mormons and non-Mormons. Further, it is vital to keep in mind the fact that the difference in attributes between "the Mormon Jesus" and the Jesus of other Christians is only partial: In terms of practical spirituality and prayer, for example, there is little difference between Mormons and other Christians.173 Mormons share with other Christians, too, the historical data of the New Testament, deviating only very rarely in its interpretation. Indeed, perhaps the greatest irony of the current campaign against Mormonism is that it is almost entirely the work of conservative Protestant Christians. Latter-day Saints have long tended to feel most at home with evangelical Bible commentaries, when they use such scholarly tools at all, because of the belief that we share with them in Christ's literal resurrection, in the historicity of his miracles, in the birth narratives, and in the Savior's divinity.174 At least until recently, Mormons have thought of conservative Christians as, in many ways, their allies against the threat of theological liberalism and unbelief, as well as against trends toward immorality and family breakdown in the society at large. Hence the shock felt by many Mormons—the present writers among them—at the sometimes venomous attacks now aimed against their Church. Mormons consider Jesus divine, the Only Begotten Son of God, and the only perfect man who ever lived. Their Articles of Faith affirm that men are saved, if they are saved, "through the Atonement of Christ." Most Latter-day Saints can only shake their heads, therefore, at the claim that Mormonism is not Christian.
A comparison of twenty elements of personal identity possessed by "the Mormon Jesus" and "the Jesus of the Bible"—and many, many more elements could be compared if space and the reader's patience did not constrain us—should make it clear to even the most hardened missing persons detective that the two are the same person.
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Category
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"The Mormon Jesus"
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"The Jesus of the Bible"
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1. birthplace
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Bethlehem
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Bethlehem
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2. ethnicity
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Jewish
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Jewish
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3. of David's line?
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yes
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yes
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4. stepfather's name
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Joseph
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Joseph
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5. mother's name
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Mary
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Mary
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6. time period
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early first century
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early first century
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7. occupation
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carpenter, preacher
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carpenter, preacher
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8. taught at temple?
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yes
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yes
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9. sojourn in Egypt?
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yes
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yes
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10. baptized by John the Baptist?
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yes
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yes
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11. walked on water?
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yes
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yes
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12. water to wine?
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yes
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yes
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13. gave parables?
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yes
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yes
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14. public office?
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no
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no
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15. manner of death
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crucifixion
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crucifixion
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16. time of death
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under Pontius Pilate
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under Pontius Pilate
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17. place of death
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just outside Jerusalem
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just outside Jerusalem
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18. sign of death
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earthquake
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earthquake
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19. resurrected?
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yes
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yes
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20. ascent to heaven?
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yes
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yes
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Beyond any question, the Latter-day Saints worship the same Jesus as do other Christians. To make his quotation more damning, therefore, Rev. Smith has chosen to take the word "different" in the quantitative or numerical sense, when it is almost certain that the Mormon leader he cites intended the word in the qualitative sense. In so doing, Smith has, perhaps innocently, perhaps not, committed the logical fallacy of equivocation. This elementary logical error, also known as the Fallacy of the Ambiguous Middle Term, is surprisingly common in anti-Mormon writings, but perhaps its clearest manifestation occurs in connection with this question of Mormonism's allegedly "different Jesus." As one elementary logic textbook defines it, "This fallacy is committed whenever we allow the meaning of a term to shift between the premises of our argument and our conclusion." It is amusingly illustrated in the following short poem:
I love you,
Therefore I am a lover;
All the world loves a lover.
You are all the world to me—
Consequently
You love me.175
The poem's error occurs, of course, when the phrase-term "all the world" is allowed to shift meanings between the third and fourth lines. This is precisely analogous to the way in which the word "different" shifts in meaning between the supposed admission of a Latter-day Saint general authority and the triumphant accusation of John L. Smith.
Once this is understood, it becomes apparent that we are talking here merely about differing views of one individual, Jesus, and not about distinct and separate individuals. Rev. Smith's earthshaking discovery thereby becomes trivial. After all, the Catholic Jesus is different from the Pentecostal Jesus, and both differ from the Coptic Jesus. Furthermore, given their different human experiences and upbringing and cultural and psychological conditions, it is not surprising that Jane and Joe and Manuel and Yahya cAbd al-Masih and Kim Ho Pak and Uri Schwyzer have rather different ideas about Jesus. So what? To have different views of an individual does not magically create different individuals. Citizen C may think Senator Bunkum a paragon of fiscal restraint, as well as a statesman of rare wisdom and moderation, while Citizen D regards him as a heartless skinflint and an indecisive political coward, but we are still, mercifully, left with only one Senator Bunkum. It is with this principle in mind that John Hick and Edmund S. Meltzer can publish a volume about the three Abrahamic traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and can quite justly title it Three Faiths—One God.176
"Christianity begins with Christ," writes C. L. Manschreck, "but who is Christ? The one depicted in the Gospels? Protestantism generally asserts this and uses the Bible as its authority, but examination discloses different views of Christ among the gospel writers, and the apparently older letters of Paul show little interest in the supposed facts about Jesus. Individual Protestants have assumed varied stances for interpreting Scriptures, with the result that widely divergent portraits of Jesus emerge, with no way to determine which is 'true.'"177 As James D. G. Dunn points out, there was certainly "one Jesus" in history, but there have been "many Christs" in Christian belief—even (or especially) in the period of the New Testament.178 Jaroslav Pelikan's fine book on Jesus Through the Centuries discusses just a few of the various Jesuses that can be documented over the past two millennia. Catholic views of Jesus differ from Protestant views in several respects, and anti-Catholics do not lag behind anti-Mormons in exhorting their Roman Catholic readers to "be converted to the true Christ of the Bible," "the Christ of the Bible, not a counterfeit Christ."179 "Is There Another Christ?" is the title of an anti-Catholic pamphlet published by Chick Publications, of Chino, California.180 The clear implication is that the Catholics claim to have "another Christ," and that their claims are blasphemously false.
Since it is undeniably the case that many differing ideas are held about Jesus, the question arises just where on the opinion spectrum the line will be placed that separates "Christian" from "non-Christian." And this question, in turn, suggests the more fundamental problem of who has the right to draw such a line, and whence that authority comes. These are precisely the questions that will occupy us in the next few pages.181
In the meantime, Rev. Smith offers one seemingly clear distinction between the Mormon view of Jesus and the traditional Christian view: "The Mormon Jesus was the most unforgiving of men. Rather than being a Savior, the Mormon Jesus is a slaughterer." This latter idea he derives from the account of the New World destruction that accompanied Christ's Palestinian crucifixion, as recorded in the early chapters of 3 Nephi in the Book of Mormon. This idea is picked up by the Decker advertisement as well: "The Book of Mormon teaches that Jesus Christ destroyed 16 major cities and killed hundreds of thousands of his 'other sheep' (3 Nephi 8, 9). The Jesus of the Bible gave new life, not death!" But is the contrast so patent? The tender portrayal of Jesus blessing the little children in 3 Nephi 17 is only one of many texts that portray the gentle nature of "the Mormon Jesus."182 Yet even in the Bible, Jesus is not depicted as sweetness alone. What of the cleansing of the temple? And what of the cleansing of the earth that will accompany his Second Coming?183 Furthermore, given a trinitarian understanding of the Godhead, is Jesus not rather intimately implicated in such events as the Flood, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah? The Jesus of the Book of Mormon is in fact both judge and Savior, precisely as he appears in the Bible. And our examples need not be restricted to "sacred" history. If Jesus is God, and if God is the Sovereign of all nature—as most Christians would testify, and as Mormons would agree—then it is not immediately apparent that Jesus is unconnected with, say, murderous floods in Bangladesh, or disastrous earthquakes in Turkey, or the burial in Colombia of an entire city by volcanic lava. (These are precisely the kinds of natural destruction reported in the Book fo Mormon.) Does Rev. Smith intend here to announce that events in the natural order are (a) of no concern to the Trinity, or (b) beyond the Trinity's ability to control?
Probably the best evidence offered by Rev. Smith for his position is the illustration on the cover of his pamphlet entitled "Mormonism Has Another Jesus." The sightless, staring eyes, the stark features, the long, coal-black hair, the thickly sensuous mouth, the lips parted in devil-may-care lassitude, the lurid red flames that leap around him, all these fairly shout out that this is indeed a different Jesus. But is he "the Mormon Jesus?" No.
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