Mormon Temples
New era dawns for LDS temple recommends
The cards giving entry to 'the House of the Lord' will include bar codes
By Peggy Fletcher Stack
The Salt Lake Tribune
Salt Lake Tribune
08/24/2007
Mormon leaders are requiring all
church members to turn in their "temple recommends," or authorizations to enter
one of the faith's 124 temples across the globe. In exchange, members will get
new ones that look nearly the same but have a bar code that can be scanned at
the door.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints does not release statistics
on what percentage of its 13 million members hold a current recommend, but the
task will eat up many hours of time for Mormon bishops and stake presidents, who
must reissue the cards.
Only Mormons with current recommends can enter a temple, which is considered
"the House of the Lord." It is where they participate in religious ceremonies
that lay out the purpose of life and make covenants to serve Jesus Christ and
their fellow men. It is also where weddings are performed and proxy baptisms for
the dead are done.
Although LDS spokesman Scott Trotter declined to explain the reason for the
recommend exchange, members have been told it is for "security reasons."
Such steps may have been deemed necessary because of several Internet sites
that provide a replica of the paper recommend that can be downloaded and
possibly used to gain unapproved entry to a temple.
"My sole purpose was to show people what a recommend looks like," said
former Mormon Richard Packham of Roseburg, Ore., who published the image on his
Web site. "It is intended as educational information . . . [and I am not] aware
of anyone who has tried to download the image from my Web site and use it to
gain entrance to a temple."
Still, Packham acknowledges other Web sites do provide fake recommends, and
he can see why someone without a legitimate recommend would want to enter an LDS
temple.
"Some people are intrigued by the aspects of the church that are secret and
exclusionary," Packham said in an e-mail. "They want to be 'in on' the mystery.
. . . And, yes, some people are terribly curious about what goes on in the
endowment and want to see it for themselves, at any cost and any risk."
Packham said he believes the new recommends may reduce such unauthorized
entries.
Protecting the sanctity of its temples from unworthy participants has long
been one of the church's goals.
That's where the recommend comes in.
Starting in the so-called Mormon Reformation of 1856, LDS leaders began
asking members about their adherence to religious principles. They were asked
about their faith and commitment but also about whether they'd committed murder
or adultery. (See associated story.)
At that time, such questions were not necessarily used to determine whether
a Mormon could go to the temple - in fact, the St. George Temple, Utah's first,
wasn't dedicated until 1877.
For years thereafter, a Latter-day Saint had to be invited by the church
leaders to enter a temple, wrote Brigham Young University law professor Edward
Kimball in the spring 1998 Journal of Mormon History. Local leaders, relying on
"broad categories of worthiness," recommended members to the church president,
who issued approval.
"Letters of recommendation had to be countersigned by the church president
until 1891 when Wilford Woodruff, who had signed over 3,000 that year, delegated
responsibility for determining worthiness to bishops and stake presidents,"
Kimball wrote.
The first set of standard questions was issued about 1922 and included
matters of belief in God and Jesus Christ, the LDS Church as a restoration of
pure Christianity, loyalty to church leaders and willingness to live Mormon
principles.
Payment of tithing was always important for a temple recommend, but
adherence to the faith's prohibition against coffee, tea, alcohol and tobacco
varied in strictness.
The 1940 and 1944 versions settled for a "willingness to undertake" to
observe the health code known as the Word of Wisdom. The 1968 version specified
that keeping the Word of Wisdom meant abstaining from "alcoholic beverages"
rather than "liquor" to "make sure that even light beer and wine were included,"
Kimball wrote.
While some LDS bishops and stake presidents have tried to make caffeinated
drinks one of the prohibited substances, he wrote, "cola drinks have never been
included."
Nor has the use of birth control.
For the past few decades, people have been asked whether they "support,
affiliate with or agree with" any opposition groups, which is often seen as code
for polygamists.
Worried about Mormon involvement in the thrift-and-loan scandals of the
1970s, church leaders added the question: "Are you honest in your dealings with
your fellow men?"
In 1979, a new question aimed at the problem of domestic and sexual abuse
asked applicants to consider whether anything in their conduct within the family
was "not in harmony with the teachings of the Church."
The church began to ask about child support in the 1980s and in 1999 began
asking specifically if candidates were up to date in their financial obligations
to children and former spouses.
"Such interviews have always been conducted with the intent of encouraging
members to live Christlike lives," Mormon officials said in a statement this
week. "As we see increasing strains on families everywhere, church leaders have
felt it necessary to place additional emphasis on meeting all family
responsibilities and obligations."
Romney's role in a Mormon temple saga
The Salt Lake Tribune wire services
12/20/2007
By Sridhar Pappu
The Washington Post
BELMONT, Mass. -- It is late in the afternoon, just hours after this town's
most famous resident and current Republican presidential candidate, Mitt Romney,
delivered a speech in Texas to address questions about his Mormon faith. And for
all the clamor surrounding him, here at the Boston Massachusetts Temple - a
controversial edifice that Romney helped build - there is only silence.
In the foyer, men in white suits and women in floor-length white dresses
greet those of the Mormon faith who have "temple recommend" cards allowing them
entry to the rooms beyond. The immaculate space is devoid of decoration save for
a portrait of Jesus tending a flock.
Even to an outsider, there is a serenity to the grounds. Built of marble
imported from Italy, the temple sits on a hill high above this well-heeled
suburb, surrounded by an immaculate lawn and parking lot. It's said that on
clear days you can see the steeple, with its gold-leaf statue of the angel
Moroni, five miles away in Harvard Square.
Unlike "meetinghouses" - chapels where Mormons and non-Mormons can gather,
sing hymns and listen to sermons - there are no regular Sunday worship services
at a temple. Instead, this is a place for different rituals: ceremonies for
eternal marriages, occasions where you can bind yourself to family members for
eternity or retroactively baptize the dead.
Despite its pristine appearance, though, this temple is the product of a
messy civic battle that went all the way to the state's highest court.
The debate is still raw, seven years after the temple opened. John Forster,
the onetime spokesman for a group of neighbors, says: "I don't care what they
believe. Why did they have to put a facility for the whole Northeast in a
residential neighborhood? Romney and other Mormons always tried to cast
themselves as victims of oppression and religious discrimination and it was
never about that. It was about square feet."
Grant Bennett, who represented the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints during the temple's construction, called the endeavor a "significant
struggle."
Like Romney, Bennett came east from Utah for graduate work: He studied at
MIT, while Romney earned business and law degrees from Harvard. Both are part of
a ward - the Mormon equivalent of a congregation - that was created in Belmont
after the one in Cambridge outgrew its quarters on Harvard Square.
Romney held the unpaid position of bishop of the Belmont ward from 1984 to
1986 and supervised construction of the meetinghouse, which sits at the bottom
of the hill where the temple now stands. As both the ecclesiastical and
administrative head of the congregation, Romney set up Sunday school assignments
and speakers, and counseled people about marital troubles or wayward teens.
After serving as president of the Boston stake (the equivalent of a diocese)
from 1986 to 1994, Romney stepped down for his unsuccessful U.S. Senate run
against Ted Kennedy. Afterward, Bennett, now bishop of the Belmont ward,
appointed the future governor to teach Sunday school.
In 1995, Bennett helped the president of the Mormon Church, Gordon Hinckley,
look over the property in Belmont. Hinckley had yearned to build a temple in the
Northeast, with his focus on Hartford, Conn. But when informed that the church
owned 8.9 acres near Boston, he called Bennett asking to see the site.
By the time of his visit, prominent members of the Mormon faith had become
established in Belmont: Kim Clark, dean of the faculty at Harvard Business
School from 1995 to 2005, Romney's HBS colleague Kent Bowen, a noted research
scholar; John Wright, president of a boutique investment-banking firm.
Hinckley wouldn't divulge his intentions until the following September.
Originally, the building was to be 94,000 square feet with six spires. The
central spire, 144 feet high, would be topped by the angel Moroni, the figure
said to have come to young Joseph Smith in 1823 and supposedly one of the
authors of the Book of Mormon.
In retrospect, Bennett acknowledges: "It was a very large building on that
site. It was 94,000 feet on top of a hill in a residential area and it was very,
very prominent."
Too prominent, it turned out, for those who would live alongside it.
For months leading up to the local Zoning Board of Appeals decision in 1996,
there were tightly packed, emotionally charged meetings. For many opponents, the
issue wasn't religious freedom but the town's own ordinances, which set a height
limit of 72 feet. Despite protests, the zoning board approved the original
proposal for the temple, as well as scaled-back plans introduced in 1997 that
slashed the size of the building to 72,000 square feet and reduced the number of
steeples to one.
This did not end the tumult. On the first day of blasting, something went
terribly wrong, sending rock and debris and dust all over the neighborhood.
Another time, an underground explosion caused a rubber mat to overheat, sending
flames 20 feet into the air. Neighbors consistently complained about
construction noise.
Romney's public role in the debate over the temple was limited. In spring
1996, Romney and his wife hosted get-togethers with neighbors where both the
architect and landscape architect answered questions. In 1999 he temporarily
moved to Utah to organize the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. But even
when in Belmont, he rarely spoke publicly on the issue, says Clayton
Christensen, who served there in the church with Romney.
"We had a steering committee and he would attend the meetings," says
Christensen, a Harvard Business School professor. "At one meeting he said his
very participation might be a lightning rod for additional controversy since he
had run against Ted Kennedy. He was there and would give us advice but did not
take a public role."
Two lawsuits were filed. The first, in state court, challenged the variance
that allowed the steeple to be built. This was followed by a suit in federal
court challenging the right to build the structure itself. It claimed the
Massachusetts law allowing religious and educational institutions immunity from
local zoning restrictions violated the U.S. Constitution. Those suing said the
Massachusetts law in essence favored the spreading of religion.
Both cases were decided in favor of the Mormons. The temple opened without a
steeple. The structure, rising 139 feet, was added after the state Supreme
Judicial Court ruled for the Mormons in 2001.
"It's hard to know how much of it was bigotry and how much of it was wanting
to try and keep the tranquility of Belmont neighborhoods," banker Wright says.
"I suppose it was a little of both."
Critics of the project still bristle at such comments.
Charles Counselman, a former MIT professor, bought his home in 1997 and
later joined the federal lawsuit.
"I was attacked many times in many forums for being a religious bigot or
worse," Counselman says. "I don't have anything against the LDS church. The LDS
church has had a meetinghouse in this neighborhood for a long time. When I was
in college I had (ital) two (end ital) Mormon roommates. I contributed to Mitt
Romney's Senate campaign. It's not about that at all. In my mind it's a zoning
issue."
Among the thousands who visited when the building was finished in 2000 was
Kennedy, who was guided around by Romney, his onetime political opponent.
Kennedy called the structure "magnificent," adding he wished that Romney were a
Democrat.
Monson dedicates Rexburg Temple
'First official act' as LDS president
By Peggy Fletcher Stack
The Salt Lake Tribune
02/11/2008
REXBURG, Idaho - New
LDS Church President Thomas S. Monson relished his first temple assignment as
leader of the 13-million member Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
"I can't think of anything I'd rather do as my first official act than
dedicate this holy house of the Lord," Monson told thousands of Mormons squeezed
into every corner of the temple or watched on closed-circuit television beamed
to the area's Mormon chapels.
The day held some unexpected moments for Monson.
He arrived, with his wife, Frances, and daughter, Ann Dibb, more than 30
minutes late for the first dedication session, scheduled to begin at 9 a.m.
There were three more dedication services scheduled throughout the day. Early
Sunday morning, he had learned that Ruth Wright Faust, widow of James E. Faust,
Monson's longtime associate in the LDS First Presidency, had passed away. Then
his plane had to be rerouted to Pocatello because of thick fog obscuring the
area around Rexburg.
But the fog did not suffocate Monson's jovial spirit.
He joked with onlookers as he tried to press mortar into the concrete
surrounding the temple's symbolic cornerstone. When some of the squishy
substance fell off his trowel, he asked someone else to pick it up and put it in
for him.
"That's called repentance," Monson quipped.
He called on LDS Apostle Russell M. Nelson, a former heart surgeon, to
assist him, saying, "Where's my doctor? He's better at instruments than I am,
but they were different instruments."
Back inside, Nelson said it was a "great privilege" to accompany Monson on
this historic occasion.
"We express our love and desire to assist President Monson in his weighty
responsibilities," Nelson said.
From there, Sunday's service followed a pattern that began with the 1836
dedication of the faith's first temple in Kirtland, Ohio. It featured
hymn-singing, prayers and several speeches, including one by Apostle David A.
Bednar, former president of Brigham Young University-Idaho in Rexburg.
In his remarks, Nelson described the temple as a place where "we feel close
to the Lord . . . and learn about the creation, the fall and the atonement [of
Jesus Christ]."
Going to the temple is a sign of faith and a symbol of commitment to God,
Nelson said.
In fact, only those Mormons with a current temple recommend, attesting to a
person's adherence to LDS standards such as the prohibitions on alcohol,
tobacco, coffee and tea, could attend the dedication or can enter temples once
they've been dedicated.
In his remarks, Monson said President Gordon B. Hinckley, who died Jan. 27
at 97, approved plans for this temple, looking at every page of the
architectural drawings.
"He's here with us in spirit," Monson said.
He promised the Latter-day Saints watching the service that if they live
"worthy lives," they would feel a spirit in the temple that would guide them in
all they do.
"The church has come out of obscurity," Monson said in his dedicatory
prayer. "Many not of our faith have previously visited this building. May they
acknowledge that it is thy holy house."
He blessed the hill on which the temple stands, the grounds and landscaping,
the furniture and decorations and all who enter it. He prayed that God would
preserve the temple from the destructive acts of nature and other people and
save it from "pollution of any kind."
Monson then promised that those who enter will "grow in faith . . . and
understanding of eternal life. They will look to this temple as a sanctuary."
The dedication's climactic ritual is the "Hosanna shout," where the
congregation rises, waves white handkerchiefs and repeats in unison three times,
"Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna to God and the lamb."
According to Mormon teachings, the shout is meant to convey the same sense
of joy that believers in the Bible expressed by waving palm branches when Jesus
entered Jerusalem.
At the end of the service, the choirs and congregation joined in singing,
"The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning," the unique Mormon hymn sung at the
1893 dedication of the Salt Lake Temple.
It was an emotional moment for Lila Atkinson Moore, an elderly woman who has
lived on Harvard Avenue in Rexburg for 50 years and whose grandfathers were sent
by earlier LDS leaders to settle the area.
The dedication was "heavenly," Moore said. "Words cannot describe my
feelings. I am so thankful to be here. Our prayers were answered to have
President Monson here."
Just then, Monson himself came around the corner and spotted Moore, sitting
in a wheelchair. He leaned over and shook her hand. She was speechless.
"I shook President Heber J. Grant's hand when I was a child," Moore said,
referring to an LDS prophet who led the church from 1918 to 1945. "I never
thought this would happen in my life."
Moore's LDS bishop, Howard Egan, and his wife, Tauna, brought their elderly
friend to Sunday's ceremony.
"This temple is a fulfillment of prophecy," Egan said. "Now it's up to us to
take advantage of having it in our own backyard."
For Tauna Egan, the day was doubly blessed.
It was her 50th birthday, she said. "I think we'll have a temple cake."
More Mormons exiting Salt Lake City and moving to the suburbs
(Temple Square is being surrounded by Gentile hordes!)
By Peggy Fletcher Stack
The Salt Lake Tribune
07/18/2008
In the 1920s and 1930s, Mormon leaders and
members flocked to newly created Normandy Heights, a development on Salt Lake
City's east bench with a creek running through the soon-to-be tree-lined streets
and dotted with large, traditional houses, mirroring East Coast architecture.
It became the new center of Mormonism, replacing the Victorian houses of
Salt Lake City's Avenues neighborhood. And until the past decade, the so-called
Harvard-Yale area was home to dozens of apostles and church presidents. Ezra
Taft Benson built a home on Harvard, Spencer Kimball lived on Laird, Joseph
Fielding Smith on 12th East and Gilmer. The LDS faithful filled in the spaces
between and among their leaders, creating a new Mormon ward every few blocks.
Now it seems the Mormon population is shifting north, south and west. As
Mormons move to the suburbs, downtown Salt Lake City has grown more religiously
diverse - and often more attractive to outsiders.
In the past few years, Mormons near the city center have prayed for more of
their own to move in, while real-estate agents alert potential homebuyers than
these areas have the smallest LDS concentration. LDS stakes in Sugar House, the
Avenues and the areas around the University of Utah, which typically comprise
six to nine congregations of 300 to 500 members apiece, have had to regroup,
while stakes in South Jordan and North Salt Lake are pushed to the limits.
Five years ago, the Avenues'
three stakes were reduced to two. A year ago, the LDS Church closed a Mormon
chapel on K Street between 10th and 11th avenues and sold the land. The building
was demolished and replaced by houses. In March, the Foothill Stake, which
stretches from 1700 to 2100 South and 1900 to 2300 East, went from seven to five
wards.
Just last month, the Hillside Stake, from 1300 to 2100 South and 1300 to
1900 East, went from nine wards to six. Though it represented a loss of members
in the area, the move was a boon to those staying, says Rebecca Gardiner,
Hillside Stake Relief Society president.
"The church is not in the business of collapsing, it's in the business of
expanding, but our leaders are realists," Gardiner says. "They had to create
these dynamic wards. We are all superexcited. We've been here 16 years, and it
was like a shot of adrenaline."
Still, she laments the loss of so many strong LDS families. "We wish more of
our friends would come back," Gardiner says, "and help grow the church in Salt
Lake."
The flight includes, by the way, many of The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints' highest officials. Currently only LDS apostles Dallin H.
Oaks, Joseph B. Wirthlin and M. Russell Ballard live on Salt Lake City's east
bench. Apostles Russell M. Nelson, Robert D. Hales, Jeffrey R. Holland and David
A. Bednar all live in North Salt Lake and Bountiful, as do Henry B. Eyring and
Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the governing First Presidency.
LDS spokesman Rob Howell confirmed that total population of LDS Church
members in Salt Lake City has decreased by approximately 5,000 individuals in
the past five years.
"We understand that the total population of Salt Lake City has also declined
during that same time," he added.
While the Mormon exodus may trouble those who remain, it's pretty typical.
"This corresponds to suburbanization process we've seen all across the
country," says Pam Perlich, an associate with the Bureau of Economic and
Business Research at the U. "It is not unique to Utah."
People want bigger homes and can get more for their money farther from
downtowns. Plus, they tend to collect next to those they are comfortable with,
Perlich says. That helps explain why Mormons are moving away, while single
people, non-Mormons, out-of-staters and ethnic minorities are buying the homes
closest to the city. Those Mormons who remain in these older neighborhoods tend
to be more open to diversity, less threatened by it.
"You cannot underestimate the impact of the University [of Utah] on the
demographic composition of this city," Perlich says. A few years ago, Jen
Jacobsen, with her husband and three children, moved from their home on
Princeton Avenue to Daybreak, a development west of Bangerter Highway on 114th
South. They liked the different houses and walking community. It has the feel of
the old neighborhood, but with new houses.
"My kids went from being one in 25 kids in Primary [the Mormon organization
for children younger than 12] to one in 250," Jacobsen said.
About 30 percent of her neighborhood moved from Sugar House, 30 percent from
out of state, and 30 percent from the south valley.
Currently, Daybreak is between 60 percent and 80 percent LDS; after a new
South Jordan temple was announced, even more Mormons moved in.
After an LDS temple was completed in 1995, Bountiful saw an influx of
Mormons tired of housing prices in the older neighborhoods, where even a
smallish bungalow can go for between $500,000 and $700,000.
Eva Quinton and her husband moved to Bountiful in 1996, when houses were
relatively cheap. Prices have risen steadily since then, but they stay because
of the children.
"There are 28 children under 12 within nine houses on our cul de sac," says
Quinton. "We are all stay-at-home moms and all Mormons. It's great."
Mormon Temple is not a place of public worship
House of Lords
Published August 7, 2008
London Times
Gallagher (Valuation Officer) v Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
Before Lord Hoffmann, Lord Hope of Craighead, Lord Scott of Foscote, Lord
Carswell and Lord Mance
Speeches July 30, 2008
A Mormon Temple, which was open only to Mormons in good standing, was not a place of public religious worship within the meaning of paragraph 11(1)(a) of Schedule 5 to the Local Government Finance Act 1988 and was thus not exempt from the rating list.
The House of Lords so held in dismissing an appeal by the taxpayer, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, from a decision of the Court of Appeal (Lord Justice Mummery, Lord Justice Jacob and Lord Justice Neuberger) ([2006] EWCA Civ 1598) upholding a preliminary determination by the President of the Lands Tribunal, Sir George Bartlett, QC, on November 3, 2005, allowing an appeal by the Revenue and Customs from a decision of the Lancashire Valuation Tribunal on October 21, 2004, which overturned a decision of the valuation officer, Mr James Gallagher, who held, inter alia, that the Mormon Temple at Chorley, Lancashire, was not exempt from the rating list under paragraph 11.
Mr Jonathan Sumption, QC and Mr Richard Glover for the church; Mr Timothy Mould, QC and Mr Daniel Kolinsky for the valuation officer; Mr Philip Sales, QC and Mr Tim Ward for the Secretary of State of Communities and Local Government, intervening.
LORD HOFFMANN said that the difficulty for the church was that the same point had been decided more than 40 years ago by the House in Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints v Henning (Valuation Officer) ([1964] AC 420).
The question had been whether a Mormon Temple was exempt from rates as a place of public religious worship within the meaning of section 7(2)(a) of the Rating and Valuation (Miscellaneous Provisions) Act 1955. The House held that the words could not apply to places used for religious worship from which the public was excluded.
Although there was no rigid rule that words used in an Act of Parliament had to be given the same construction as the courts had given those words in an earlier Act, it was inconceivable that Parliament did not intend the phrase to carry the meaning which it had been given in Henning.
The legislature had had at least two opportunities, in 1988 and 1992, to reconsider the matter and had not done so. Henning was, therefore, conclusive against the appellants on that point.
It was next submitted that a different construction was required by section 3 of the Human Rights Act 1998. The exclusion of all but approved members of the church was a manifestation by the Mormons of their religion. Therefore, to deny them exemption on that ground would be to discriminate against them on the ground of religion, contrary to articles 9 and 14 of the European Convention on Human Rights.
The 1988 Act did not discriminate on the ground of religion. The rule that exemption was accorded to places of worship only if they were open to the public was perfectly general. Anyone could comply.
The case was not one in which the Mormons were taxed on account of their religion. It was only that their religion prevented them from providing the public benefit necessary to secure a tax advantage. That was an altogether different matter.
Furthermore, even if it could be regarded as a case of indirect discrimination, it was justified. Parliament had a wide discretion in deciding what should be regarded as a sufficient public benefit to justify exemption from taxation and it was entitled to take the view that public access to religious services was such a benefit.
Lord Hope and Lord Scott delivered concurring opinions; Lord Carswell and Lord Mance agreed.
Solicitors: Devonshires; Solicitor, Revenue and Customs; Treasury Solicitor.