Mormonism is young, and Mormonism is small, and before we go too much further I should make clear that I am far from an expert on this particular faith, and that this is a blog post based in many instances on perception, not a well-researched article. But, two evident truths: Mormonism is young. Mormonism is small.
This youngness and this smallness are known, but I’m not sure they’re fully appreciated. By a rather broad estimate (extrapolating relative memberships of churches onto self-identification surveys) there are roughly 75 million evangelical Protestants in the United States, roughly 70 million Catholics, roughly 50 million mainline Protestants, roughly 7 million Eastern Orthodox Christians, and roughly 7 million Mormons. Roughly one in every fifty Americans is Mormon. Roughly one in four is Evangelical. Roughly one is four is Catholic. There are as many Eastern Christians as there are Mormons in America. To my knowledge, no hit musical has parodied the Orthodox Church. Should one? I don’t know where it would find its material. That’s not the point here. The point is that in the discourse, Mormonism outpunches its share of the population.
Why is Mormonism so noteworthy? Personally, I’d guess it has a lot to do with the religion’s youth. As religions age, speaking generally here, they seem to reform their way into conventionality within their culture. The earliest Christians engaged in significant debate over whether their church could extend to the gentiles. It took three hundred years before Christmas came about. Mormonism is not as significantly new as Christianity was two thousand years ago, but it’s still only been around for two centuries. On the Christianity clock, we’re only two thirds of the way to Christmas. In the meantime, idiosyncrasies persist. The two most troubling—polygamy and the exclusion of Black Mormons from many church practices—have been done away with, but Mormonism remains obviously distinct from other Christian faiths. It hasn’t changed as much yet. Also, importantly, its self-organization hasn’t splintered much. It’s a very organized church. We estimate the number of Catholics and Protestants. We know the number of Mormons (6,592,195 as of 2018).
But why else is Mormonism so noteworthy? I’d venture BYU doesn’t play a small role. And that’s why we’re posting this today, when BYU—the Notre Dame of the LDS Church—plays Notre Dame.
Notre Dame football, famously, became a rallying flag for Catholics across the country in the Knute Rockne era. BYU football, in different fashion and to different extent, has played a similar role for the LDS Church. A test of strength and will, sport says something about the culture backing it. When the teams win, as Notre Dame did under Rockne and as BYU did under LaVell Edwards, the pride extends to the culture behind them. For both Notre Dame and BYU, faith is a defining part of that culture. And faith, for those who practice, is at least ostensibly a more personal piece of identity than even one’s family. And so, as USC and Oregon fans chant hate speech at BYU players, not altogether unlike Michigan officials sharing anti-Catholic sentiment in the days of Rockne, it’s with a sense of kinship that the game kicks off. At least for this Notre Dame alum.
I’ve been intrigued by Mormonism for a long time, not in terms of personal interest in conversion but as a curiosity colored by admiration. The admiration is one I, a mainline Protestant with a Catholic wife and father, often feel for the Catholic Church as well. In their time in America, both Catholics and Mormons have endured substantial persecution. When my grandmother was young, the KKK came to her hometown, and not because Sheldon, Iowa was a hub of racial diversity. Mormons wound up in Utah because they needed somewhere to flee. In modern times, each has mostly maintained separation from the politically partisan siren call, something at which each major division of Protestantism—evangelical and mainline, going in opposite directions—has tragically and thoroughly failed. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops supports policies as far apart on the political spectrum as raising caps on immigrant visas and banning abortion. Few prominent politicians have demonstrated principles-based independence from their party like Mitt Romney and Spencer Cox. Do I have disagreements with Romney, and with Cox, and with the LDS Church, and with the USCCB? Many. Does political extremeness exist within the Catholic and Mormon people? Yes. But of the prominent American Christian faiths, Catholicism and Mormonism have resisted partisanship at high-ranking levels. Evangelicalism and mainline Protestantism have not. There’s a steadfastness evident in denying the sirens.
It’s more, then, than a football game against an echo of Notre Dame’s past. It’s a football game against a comrade in Notre Dame’s present. Boston College’s football program is not currently prominent. Baylor is far from a Baptist flagship. Liberty is very much a mid-major. TCU, despite holding the word Christian in its name, is described by many as secular in practice (much like the Methodist schools). Notre Dame and BYU share a parallel history, and they share a similar present, and the religions behind them are—despite vastly different histories and cultural tastes—more aligned in big-picture values than either is, in practice, with any other branch of the faith. Notre Dame is not BYU. And BYU is not Notre Dame. But there should be a respect between them. Each has walked a similar path. Each, hopefully, will share a similarly successful future. On the football field, yes, but more importantly, in that big picture as well.
