Notwithstanding the stark condemnations of Elder McConkie, you and I are actually not very far from being Catholics ourselves. One needn’t look far to see the great similarities shared by the erstwhile Great and Abominable and the Only True and Living.
Each church rests on an unwavering claim of authority, given by Christ, through Peter, his chief Apostle.
No other Christian denomination makes nearly as much fuss about the importance of an explicit heavenly mandate. Further, as opposed to the rest of Christendom, even the rest of global religion, only Mormonism and Catholicism reflect such strong commitment to hierarchy. They’ve got their Pope, we’ve got our Prophet. The claims made of each of these leaders vary in stridency: theirs is infallible, ours is simply good. But ours receives revelation where theirs is simply inspired. Even after the tradeoffs in specifics, the net vision of each leader held by his followers is the same– one of reverent veneration.
Mormons and Catholics also occupy a similar place in the world. We each stand as currently respectable voices, sounding most often in defense of conservative, traditional values. While other religious groups emit similar messages, few employ the centralized apparatus needed to define their message as unequivocally as these two churches. Of course, our current respectability is not to be taken for granted. For both groups, this status has been recently and hard-earned, especially in America.
It’s this shared foundation that makes me wonder what we might learn from our Catholic friends. The Catholic project has gone on for 1800 to 2000 years now. We LDS are entering our 175th year. So, for all our similarities, we might reasonably see this vastly more experienced older sibling as a case study, to help us understand the dangers and pitfalls that might challenge a church like ours as we undertake to become the next behemoth of Christianity. I’ll focus on three.
First, what strikes me as the most important similarity is our mutual claim of guiding revelation. Catholics may be a bit less outspoken on this point, but if you look, you will find it. The Pope was selected by God, you’ll hear them say. Their doctrine is not that of man, but dictated from above. And etc. But how can an institution that claims to be divinely driven be responsive to earthly pressures? The Catholic church has a long history of successes and failures here. While some saw the earlier papacies of this century as signals of new openness, yesterday’s election of Cardinal Josef Ratzinger signifies a current commitment to hold to conservative principles.
In this context, a tension grows between the church’s revelatory foundation, and the possibility that change might come in response to external pressure and internal personalities. Would a sea change on the celibacy or birth control issues mean that the church has caved to the clamoring of mankind, rather than listening to God? To self-congratulatory Mormons, such changes might look like selling out. But how would we distinguish these moves conceptually from our own revelations-under-pressure, the rescission of the Priesthood ban and the abandonment of polygamy? What is the proper balance between revelation and pragmatism, and how much should we expect God’s institution to cater to man’s intuition? I’m interested to watch the Catholics to see what they gain and lose by their vacillation or imperviousness under pressure.
Secondly, external pressures do not rise up ex nihilo. The voices in the Catholic street (square?) belong to different groups within the Catholic umbrella. Every media story covering Catholic response to the Pope’s election will cite snippets from a “conservative Catholic” and a “liberal Catholic.” Beyond these broad categorizations, there are literally hundreds of different, formally organized groups within the Catholic church, all of whom have different agendas and hopes for the direction of the entire kingdom. The vastness of the church makes the proliferation of smaller tributaries all but inevitable. The combined effect is a very divided, sometimes even contentious lay membership.
But with the LDS church, one notices similar tendencies, on a greatly diminished scale. If you look at the divisions and dissent within the Catholic church disapprovingly, what reaction would you prescribe for the LDS church? Is there a way, as the church grows bigger (imagine 20 million, 50 million, 100 million) to keep everyone within one big huge mainstream, or are minor schisms simply unavoidable? Do our own versions of conservatives and liberals forebode a more divided body of saints in future years? Should our church seek only to be a big umbrella, as the Catholic church has become– home to many types of disciples worshiping in different ways? If not, how will we avoid becoming so?
Third, what are the ways in which each of these churches creates legitimacy around its leaders? Mormons will note the seeming randomness of the process of conclave. How can you really claim that this guy was chosen by God when he was put up there by popular vote? Two easy responses: Is the order of apostles’ deaths any less random? Also, does the manner of choosing new apostles related in the New Testament give more support to their way or ours?
Either way, randomness is supported biblically and is practiced by both churches as a way to allow God’s participation in the process. The question is whether the Prophet or Pope is received by the people as the authorized mouthpiece of God. Mormons do not currently seem to have a problem with this. Catholics’ general acceptance of the pope is more mixed. The interviews in the media betray a belief in the lay membership that perhaps this is the random act of men, and that perhaps this man is will exert his random will upon the church.
Will the LDS membership ever evolve to hold such views? How can that be avoided? A flurry of disapproval among some accompanied the ordination of President Benson. With growth and dissent, could our church end up like the Catholics, sometimes accepting a prophet as just an accident, or perhaps even an ambitious ladder-climber?
I think the real reason I’m pondering all of these questions is the pendulum I’ve noticed in my own mind these past few weeks. Sometimes I feel superior to the Catholics in the emptiness of their man-created practices. But then I will suddenly swing back to the realization that many of the practices or weaknesses I see there could easily come to be weaknesses in our own church. Mostly, I wonder whether the LDS church will necessarily follow the Catholics in some respects, as it begins to achieve comparable growth. But my final thought is that we ought to think charitably of other churches. We do not know what part God plays in helping them along, and we do not know what investment God has in their success.
I remember the glee some missionaries serving in Portugal had in telling stories of evil, conspiring Catholic priests (did you know there’s a 666 hidden on the Pope’s ceremonial hat?). These tales repelled me then, but they offend me now. We should be sympathetic to Catholics and their formidable organization. If not only for the good they do, then because there, but for the grace of God, go we.