When I joined the Navy, some of my closest shipmates were, too.
When I got to college in Oregon, one of my closest friends was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
And now that I live in Salt Lake City (the “mothership,” as one of my LDS associates called it when I announced my impending move) you can, of course, be certain that many of my friends, neighbors, colleagues and students are garment-wearin’, 10-percent tithin’, Tabernacle singin' adherents of the Latter-day Saint movement.
Absolutely none of that makes it impossible that I might harbor discriminatory feelings toward the elders and sisters of the LDS faith — no more so than my telling you that I have some black friends would make it impossible for me to be racist or that having female friends makes it impossible for me to be sexist.
All that bit of personal history tells you — and all it is intended to tell you — is that I’ve been around Mormons for a long time.
And like millions of other Americans who have been around Mormons for a long time, I can tell you that they’re really not as strange, and certainly not so scary, as a lot of non-Mormons make them out to be.
Which is to say that Mitt Romney’s religion is no stranger to me than the protestant faith of my parents, than the Catholic faith of my grandparents, or than the Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim or Jewish faiths of many of my friends.
All religions are strange to the unexposed. Then, after a while, none of that strangeness really matters. If you are good to your family, to your community and to your world, and if your religion, however strange it might at first seem, helps you be that way, then what is the harm?
And, of course, we have a right — a right so fundamental that our founders made it part of the very first amendment to our Constitution — to believe whatever we damn well want about God’s presence in this world and in our lives.
That’s why many (including, apparently, Romney’s likely opponent in the 2012 presidential election) agree that it would be unfair to question how Romney’s religion would impact his presidency.
But they are wrong. A candidate’s religious beliefs — and his or her adherence to those beliefs — are a fundamentally vital question, for there is little that so informs one’s worldview and decision-making as faith.
Consider: Some people believe the Bible is a good book and a great guide for living. Some people believe it is the word of God. And some people believe it is the literal, unassailable word of God. Among the latter group there are those, like the apologetics from the Answers In Genesis organization, who believe “the creation of the Earth and animals (including the dinosaurs) occurred only thousands of years ago (perhaps only 6000!), not millions of years. Thus, if the Bible is right (and it is!), dinosaurs must have lived within the past thousands of years… Evolutionists declare that no man ever lived alongside dinosaurs. The Bible, however, makes it plain that dinosaurs and people must have lived together.”
It’s one thing to have faith. It’s another to be delusional. And people who believe in this way have chosen faith over science, belief over reason, and devotion over evidence.
That doesn’t make them bad. It doesn’t even make them stupid. But it does tell you something important about their rationality and their wisdom. That, in turn, tells you something about how they might govern. And that should most certainly affect your vote.
For the record, no one has suggested that Romney believes that we once walked dinosaurs. He does, however, claim membership in a church founded in part on the belief that several lost tribes of Israel set up shop in the Americas, where they built great societies, waged war and ultimately died off.
As an allegory, the Book of Mormon stories about the Lamanites and the Nephites can be extremely valuable, even beautiful. These stories can inform the lives of adherents in a way that help them lead more moral lives.
But there’s no archeological or genetic evidence supporting the Mormon claim (shifting, as it has been over the last century as apologists seek to explain the history of the faith) that there were Jews on this here land.
It is no vice to have faith that the Book of Mormon is true, in the sense that it may be inspired by a higher power. Who can say it isn’t?
But having faith that it is true, in the sense that it is literally accurate, is another matter entirely. It is fair to ask Romney what he believes. And it is fair to expect an answer.
Mormons call their church’s president a living prophet — the “seer and revelator” of their faith. If he believed he were inspired by Heavenly Father to do so, Thomas S. Monson could at this very moment order that all Mormons stop what they’re doing and do the hokey pokey.
And they would. Lots of them. But not all of them.
Would Romney? It is fair now (as it was when John F. Kennedy ran for president in 1960) to demand an explanation — and evidence — of how much credence and deference a candidate gives to his religious leaders, and where the line is drawn.
What do we already know about where it is drawn for Romney? Well, to take what he has said at face value (which admittedly has become more difficult as of late) Romney was saddened by his church’s historic denial of the priesthood (a right and responsibility held by nearly all adult male members) to blacks. But by his own admission, he never considered leaving his church over its discriminatory practices and he didn’t protest against its policies. Rather, he accepted the church’s edict as the word of God until, in June of 1978 (when Romney was 31 years old,) then-President Spencer Kimball had a revelation that male members of African descent could indeed be full participants in the faith.
A lot has changed, both in the LDS church and presumably in Romney, since 1978. But much has not: Female members of every race continue to hold subservient roles; no revelation has yet to open the priesthood to women. Nor can gays and lesbians who engage in open, honest, committed, healthy and sexual relationships even hold membership in the church.
Not all Mormons believe this is the way their church should be. Many are actively working to change the church from within — to encourage “a new revelation” that honors equality among God’s children.
So absolutely none of this should be taken to mean that a Mormon should not be president. I know a few priesthood-holding Mormons for whom I would vote long before I would push a button to give our current president another term.
But those individuals would answer, without objection, legitimate questions about how their faith reflects their judgment and informs their decision-making. And Romney should too.
Matthew D. LaPlante is an assistant professor of journalism at Utah State University.
