MORMON MISSION
The church hopes to show the world it's in the mainstream. And no proselytizing–promise!
BY CAROLYN KLEINER
Is this the Olympics or the Mo-lympics? That's the question of the hour in Salt Lake City, epicenter of the booming but oft-misunderstood Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, also known as the lds or Mormon church. Headquartered in the host city since 1847, and inextricably tied to all of Utah (now 70 percent Mormon) ever since, the church is known for aggressively seeking converts–and is still dogged by largely outmoded stereotypes involving polygamy and racism. To wit, an advertisement for a new four-person ski lift at a neighboring resort reads: "Wife. Wife. Wife. Husband." Thus, the Olympics–and all the attendant hoopla–could not come at a more opportune moment.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance . . . to say to the world, 'We are a church of the modern era, we are not a quaint group like the Amish, and we are not weird,'" says Jan Shipps, a leading non-Mormon authority on the religion and author of Sojourner in the Promised Land: Forty Years Among the Mormons. "It's a chance to counter misperceptions but also to open this world of the Mormon center and make it highly visible to the world."
One thing that won't be seen in Salt Lake City during the games: otherwise ubiquitous Mormon missionaries. LDS leadership has decreed there will be no proselytizing so all visitors will feel comfortable. The church has downplayed its role in the Olympics in general, stressing that the games were awarded to the entire city, not just to the Mormons. Still, as part of a larger effort to be "welcoming and receptive," in the words of LDS Elder Cecil Samuelson Jr., the church has raised millions of dollars, recruited tens of thousands of volunteers, offered the singing services of its famed choir, extended hours for its extensive genealogical archive, and loaned or donated nearly 200 acres of land for parking lots, access roads, and the like. The prime contribution is a 10-acre parcel of downtown real estate that will serve as the Olympic Medals Plaza; like many venues, the plaza will be alcohol free, in deference to Mormon rules.
Cobranded? This high-profile property–which some 3 billion people will see on television each night–comes complete with breathtaking vistas of snowcapped mountains and the soaring spires of the Mormon Temple. "I don't think that view is exactly an accident," says Salt Lake City businessman Stephen Pace, an outspoken critic of what he deems the church's heavy-handed role in the community. "They are trying to cobrand the church and the Olympics." Others question whether Mormon missionaries will actually refrain from bearing testimony to the expected 1 million visitors, noting that's asking Mormons not to be Mormons.
It's not forever, counters Samuelson.
"We'll meet our visitors," he says, "in their
own streets and alleyways when they
return home."
|
