No surprise, I know. However, I also can’t say that I’ve seen many violations here in my ward and stake — perhaps I’m just out of the loop in some ways, but I haven’t seen emails from fellow ward members using the ward list for political or marketing purposes. Nor has anything appeared on the unofficial ward facebook group. Many years ago I did see one attempt to start an LDS bookstore by putting flyers up in chapels, but I haven’t seen anything since.

Nevertheless, I’m sure that this happens, as Coppins makes clear in his article. [I should point out that Coppins doesn't make entirely clear the distinction between official resources, like the online ward directories, and the 3,500-strong "Colonial First Ward listserv," which is likely unofficial given its size (10x or more that of a singles ward) and the fact that it is apparently an email group like you can set up with yahoogroups or google groups (and many other places).] Unofficial groups like the ones he discusses are particularly ripe for issues like this, since no one will be called into their bishop for violating the policies of an unofficial group.

What is perhaps confusing in the case of the “Colonial First Ward listserv” is that, apparently, those on the list didn’t complain about the clear violation of the listserv rules! Surely not all 3,500 in the group want the political adds and solicitations (assuming that they actually read the email from the list). I’m sure that there are at least a few Democrats in the group, and I’d bet that more than a few Republicans wouldn’t be happy about the violation of the rules, if they noticed it.

Despite my preference for following the rules, I think there are times when I would support some, limited, violations of the policy — like for the struggling member trying to find an audience for his catering business or something. I can see how some situations might be reasonable exceptions, even if it means that one member can do it and I can not.

Also, its not always clear that these messages ARE a violation of the rules. Did the offender spam the ward list? Or did he just collect the addresses of those he thinks are his friends? Can you make your own email list, and just use the ward list to collect information for it? Why? or Why not?

Regardless, I’m interested in how often others see violations by Mormons of Church policy like this, or even violations of the policies or norms of unofficial groups, blogs, websites, facebook groups, etc. Does it happen much? How do you feel about it? What, if anything, do you do? Do you tell the Bishop when the bulletin board is used for personal gain? or do you just take down the offending item? Or are there times when you simply leave the item in place?

How do you handle these things when you see them? What have you seen?

I confess that I wasn’t familiar with Lomax until after I got married. The long and the short of it: Alan Lomax was a folklorist and an ethnomusicologist. He took his recording equipment around, and recorded people performing the music they performed. He recorded them talking. He taped their dancing. He worked to document and preserve cultures, both within and without the U.S.

His prodigious legwork provided the first recordings of, among others, Woody Guthrie and Muddy Waters. He met and recorded Leadbelly in jail. He didn’t really create folk music culture, but he certainly introduced it to those of us who otherwise wouldn’t know it. In the end, the New York Times tells me, he collected 5,000 hours of sound recordings, 400,000 feet of film, 3,000 videotapes, 5,000 photographs, and all sorts of memoirs.

—

The Church is amazing (though not unique) in its attraction of people from all sorts of cultures, countries, and regions. In my ward, we have Utahns, Idahoans, Midwesterners, Easterners, Californians. We have immigrants from Central America, refugees and immigrants from West Africa, members from Korea and Mongolia. We have people whose history intersects with the Church for generations, and people whose history intersects for months.

In 1997, speaking at BYU, President Hinckley said, “Bring all the good that you have and let us see if we can add to it.” It seems to me that this is a call for us, as church members, to become amateur folklorists and ethnomusicologists. Through our fellow-saints, we can learn and experience other cultures, and in our ward families, we can preserve the cultures the mix by virtue of geographic, and not self-selected, boundaries. And, by doing so, we can benefit from the good that people bring with them on Sundays.

But why? Why would Romney give the Church equity stakes in bad fast-food chains, second-rate pizza chains, and other such holdings?[fn1]

Taxes. Sure, there may be other reasons, too, but there’s a significant tax advantage to donating appreciated assets to charities.[fn2]

Remember, certain donors to 501(c)(3) organizations, including churches, can take a deduction for donations they make to that organization. An example of how it works: assume that in 2011 I itemized my deductions, that I earned $100,000[fn3], that my marginal tax rate was 25%, and that I wrote a check to the Church for $10,000. As a result of my charitable contribution, I can deduct the $10,000, which lowers my tax bill by $2,500.

And, it turns out, I get the same deduction if, instead of writing a check for $10,000, I donate, for example, stock worth $10,000. I get a deduction for the fair market value of property donated.

But that stock donation may save me more than $2,500 in taxes. Because we don’t know right now what I paid for the stock. Assume, for example, that I paid $1,000 for the stock I donate. If I wanted to get access to its $10,000 of value, I would have to sell the stock. I would realize a gain of $9,000, which would currently be taxed at a 15% rate, so I would owe $1,350 of taxes. In fact, if I sold the stock for $10,000 cash, and took those bills and gave them to my bishop, I would still owe $1,350 in taxes on my gain.

But the gain is not triggered when I donate the stock to the Church. So now I have a $10,000 deduction that saves me $2,500 in taxes, and I have a potential tax liability of $1,350 that will never materialize. And, because money is fungible, by fulfilling my tithing liability with property, I’ve freed up $10,000 of liquid assets to do with as I please.

And what does the Church do with Burger King stock? It has two options: it can put the stock in its investment portfolio, or it can sell the stock and use the $10,000 it realizes (and doesn’t pay taxes on—remember, the Church, like all 501(c)(3)s, doesn’t pay taxes on its investment income) to do whatever it would have done with the $10,000 in cash that I could have donated. I suspect, in general, that the Church (and, frankly, most charities) takes the second route.

—

[fn1] It may be that Romney didn’t donate all of those stocks, but his campaign acknowledges that he donated at least some.

[fn2] Note that, from this point on, any motive I suggest for Romney or the Church is pure conjecture: I don’t know Mitt Romney personally. It is within the realm of possibility that he had substantive non-tax reasons for giving the Church a share of Burger King. That said, I kind of doubt it.

[fn3] I should note that the amount of money I earn is something other than $100,000. But, for the sake of mathematical simplicity, every hypothetical person I deal with earns $100,000.

***

In the Church, we’re suspicious of debt. Sure, we get a pass on student loans, a modest house, a first car, but, as a general rule, our leaders discourage incurring consumer debt, and celebrate those who have escaped debt’s clutches. Having grown up a member of the Church, and having heard the various talks and lessons, I suspect most members would say that Alex made the better decision;Alex has the Fire and no debt. Pat, on the other hand, has both the Fire and the debt.

***

Assuming you agree with my intuition that, in general, Mormons would think that Alex made the better decision, I want to push that intuition a little:

(1) Let’s suppose, first, that Alex bought with cash because he has $200 just lying around. Pat, on the other hand, doesn’t, and the only way she can afford a Kindle is by borrowing. But assume Pat has a steady, if low-paying, job with amazing job security, while Alex, though making more money,has a 70% chance of losing his job in the next three months, with an uncertain outlook for getting another job in the foreseeable future. Does that change your (Mormon) intuition?

(2) Or what if Alex leaves all of his money in a checking account that doesn’t pay any interest, while Pat borrows at a low 3% rate, while she earns a 10% return on her money, which has all been wisely invested?[fn5]

(3) Or what if Pat isn’t just paying a low interest rate, but no (or a negative) interest rate?

***

What I’m trying to get at is the underlying why of our discomfort with debt. I understand for financial purposes why consumer debt is often a bad idea. Even in a (2) situation, most people don’t invest their unborrowed money; they just leave it in their checking accounts, so the fact that they could earn a higher return in theory doesn’t mean anything in practice.

And maybe our discomfort is purely a practical one, borne out of speculative investing in Kirtland and several generations of General Authorities who lived through the Depression.[fn6] But is there a religious explanation? Like we don’t like consumerism/worldliness? (But didn’t both Alex and Pat buy a Kindle Fire?) We’re theologically opposed to risk? Interest (at least its payment) is spiritually harmful?

***

Even if the avoidance of consumer debt is purely a practical consideration, we can see better today why it’s a good idea than we’ve seen in 80 years or so. But I’m interested in your take on whether it might be something more.

—

[fn1] Note that it’s exam season, so I’m kind of in exam  mode. Oh, and good luck to all of the T&S-reading students on your finals!

[fn2] Actually, they both want an iPad, but it’s priced way out of their league, and they figure a Kindle Fire is good enough.

[fn3] ;)

[fn4] Yes, I’m asking you to judge Alex and Pat, without knowing their hearts or their genders. If it makes you feel any better, they’re fictional, anyway: this is just a thought experiment.

[fn5] FWIW, Pres. Hinckley wouldn’t have changed his mind.

[fn6] It’s probably also worth noting that the Law prohibited charging interest. For those of you who know the Hebrew Bible better than I, was there any underlying reason that interest would be prohibited, or is it solely because God said?

That said, Dr. Bloom is right that the Church has changed a lot between 1844 and 2011.[fn1] Change is inevitable and, as Ecclesiastes tells us, is to be expected. And, frankly, there have been a number of changes that, even if they risk our Protestantization, I’m really happy about.

And I’m not talking Official Declaration 1 or 2 stuff—I’m going to assume that most of us are grateful that polygamy is no longer the sine qua non of the faithful member, and that all of us are grateful that we don’t live in the world of a racially-based Priesthood ban. And I’m also not talking about our wishlist of things we want changed. I assume most of us have one or two, even if they’re just wouldn’t-it-be-nice-if kinds of things.

No, I’m talking about less-prominent practices that the Church once had that have left. And there are two that leap to my mind:

Missionary Finances

I’m actually not talking about the standardization of mission expenses, even though that’s pretty nice, too. I’m actually talking about going on missions with purse and/or scrip. See, throughout the 19th century, and even through the first half of the 20th, missionaries would travel without purse or scrip. And that practice undoubtedly helped connect modern missionaries to early Christian missionaries, making the latter-day and the ancient churches that much more connected. But really, I liked having reais in my wallet as I went preaching in Brazil.[fn2]

Come to Zion

I’m also glad that the meaning of Zion has shifted from a literal physical gathering to a broader sense of Zion as being where the Church is organized. Why? Because I liked growing up in California, living in New York, Virginia, and Chicago. Moreover, I like that we’re full participants[fn3] in the world, rather than being cloistered and physically set apart from it. I realize that physical gathering has its power and its place. But I’m glad it’s gone.

—

[fn1] Between 1992 and 2011, on the other hand, not so much. This is beside the point, but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what happened between 1992, when Bloom was gung-ho on Mormonism, and today, when we’re, in his words, on the path to “just one more Protestant sect.” The only major changes the Church has instituted during those two decades that I can think of are (1) the introduction of the mini-temple, (2) the changed logo, and (3) the Perpetual Education Fund. But none of these support the Protestantization of Mormonism. As James points out, the temple is a distinctly un-Protestant institution, and the mini-temples have made temples significantly more pervasive in the Mormon world. The emphasis of Jesus in the logo is mostly cosmetic; it may reflect a renewed emphasis on Jesus, but that’s far from un-Mormon. And the Perpetual Education Fund, while it looks a lot like microcredit (which, as far as I know, isn’t a particularly Protestant institution), also looks a lot like the Perpetual Emigration Fund, which is a particularly and historically Mormon institution.

Or maybe he’s thinking about the How Wide the Divide crowd; while that project seems to have a lot of BYU support, it hasn’t crept into my Church experience in any material way.

That’s not to say that the Church hasn’t changed, and changed significantly, since Joseph Smith’s days. But I can’t think of any material shift between 1992 and today. But again, this is all tangential to the point of the post.

[fn2] Okay, just one more: I’m glad we initiate the mission process, rather than being called during conferences. And that missions don’t last much more than 2 years. And that I won’t be asked to leave my wife and children to go on a mission. I do like a lot about our current mission procedures, especially in light of the way it used to be.

[fn3] I actually probably don’t mean full participants, but I do think that our rhetorical opposition to “the World” is overblown. Sure, there’s bad that we need to avoid (or, better yet, fix). Still, but for the World, we wouldn’t have jazz or iPhones or the Doughnut Vault or a ton of other things that I appreciate on a regular basis. And I’m glad I can both be a faithful and believing member of the Church and eat simply amazing doughnuts in Chicago while listening to jazz on my iPhone, or whatever.

2. Social networks. And I mean this on all sorts of levels. Facebook has brought me back in touch with friends from high school with whom I otherwise wouldn’t have any contact. But I’m also thankful for IRL social networks: my colleagues, my neighbors, members of my ward, my kids’ friends’ parents. I’m thankful for the community that can happen when the guy comes out to repair your internet, and it turns out he has a kid the same age as your kid.

3. The eternal potential of (1) and (2). It adds that much more to these relationships to know that they can continue.

4. North Face. For this Southern Californian, it’s nice to know I’ll be able to survive another Chicago winter.[fn1]

5. Jim Henson. I remember watching the Muppet Show with my family when I was a little kid, every week. Today, I have Seasons 1-3 of the Muppet Show on DVD, a handful of Muppet movies, a couple episodes of Fraggle Rock, and tickets to the new movie.

6. My job. These days, having a job is a blessing; I’m lucky enough to have one I love.

7. A God who allows me to have all of these things.[fn2]

How about you?

—

[fn1] Totally random story: when I left for BYU, the warmest clothes I had were my flannel shirt and jeans. Which would have been plenty warm in San Diego, but turned out not to be quite so helpful in Utah (and would be a death sentence here). Of course, as a cheap freshman, I waited until I went home for Thanksgiving to have my parents buy me a coat. So thanks for that, Mom and Dad!

[fn2] Note that this list is far from exhaustive; rather, it’s the first seven things that leapt to mind. Also note that, other than (3) and maybe (7) (but probably not), it’s not particularly Mormon, except that I am Mormon and these are things for which I’m thankful.

Why, you ask? Was it a calling? or guilt? or professional pressures of some sort?

No, no, and no. Notwithstanding the near-constant Sturm und Drang that Mormons seem to feel about beards, I don’t believe for a second that anybody outside of BYU actually cares.[fn1] And that argument has been beaten to death, in any event, in the bloggernacle, to no solid conclusion.

As for professional pressures: I’m a professor.[fn2] I can wear a beard.

So why shave? Because it’s Movember. Which is an excuse to grow a mustache. The last time that I remember having a mustache was my senior year at BYU.

Which brings me to why I’m posting this on a Mormon blog: whatever you think about beards (the BYU Honor Code calls them “unacceptable”), mustaches are (apparently) perfectly acceptable in even the strictest Mormon circles.[fn3] Even you BYU students can have them.

So anybody else out there up for a mustache this month?[fn4] The mustache has an odd, acceptable place in Mormon culture and society, but we don’t often embrace it. It’s not an #occupy movement, but it is a perfectly acceptable way to set ourselves apart this month.[fn5] Plus, in December, you can grow your beard back.

—

[fn1] Note that this assertion is entirely anecdotal, based largely on the number of bearded fellow Saints I had in New York and, even moreso, here in Chicago. In my current ward, as of Sunday, the bearded in my ward included: a member of the bishopric, the EQ president and one of his counselors, a Sunbeam teacher, a nursery teacher, an EQ teacher, a ward clerk, and at least one other. (Clearly, with my having shaved, we’re one down on that list. For now.) Also note that I do know you can’t work in the temple or be a missionary and have a beard.

[fn2] Not that professors are the only professionals who can wear beards. The head of my department at a major law firm in New York had a beard for all six years that I knew him.

[fn3] I don’t, of course, vouch for their acceptability viz-a-viz your significant other, of course.

[fn4] But come on, it’s only a month, and I’m sure she can deal with it for a month.

[fn5] I was going to make a cheesy joke about putting the Mormon back in Movember, but I wisely decided against it.

That discussion, I believe, misses the point.[fn2] Why?

Baseline. First, because 14.1 million is as good a number as any. Sure, in a real discussion of how many Mormons there are, you need to do a whole lot more work to define what you mean by “Mormon.”[fn3] There are some areas that are clear: for example, it’s hard to argue that a person who has been baptize in the LDS church, attends church every Sunday, and self-identifies as Mormon should not be counted as a Mormon. It’s also easy to say that a person who grew up in a devout Catholic home, who has never met a Mormon, been to a Mormon church, or heard of Stone and Parker’s Book of Mormon musical, and who, moreover, self-identifies as Catholic, shouldn’t be counted among Mormons.

But somewhere in between, whom to count becomes murky. What about the person who was baptized, doesn’t go to any church, but self-identifies as Mormon? What about the person who has never been baptized, but goes to church every week and mans the barbecue at the the ward’s annual picnic? Figuring out the grey area certainly belongs in a discussion of how many Mormons there are, but it didn’t really fit in Brooks’s post.

Common Journalistic Practice. It’s not just Brooks citing the 14 million number. A quick Google News search[fn4] finds that the 14-million number is used by a wide array of journalists, many of whom don’t appear to have much to do with the Church, and some of whom appear not to be really big fans.

Moreover, the use of a more inclusive number seems to be common among religions. News coverage I can find of the Catholic church mentions something over a billion Catholics. I don’t know the baseline that they’re using, but I suspect that not all of those billion+ Catholics are practicing.[fn5]

It Doesn’t Matter. I assume that Mormons who boast about the 14.1 million number do so in order to show how big we are.[fn6] And I assume that detractors of the Church want to knock the number down in order to show that we’re not so big.[fn7]

But really, what’s the difference between 14.1 million and, say, 2.82 million?[fn8] There are, as of my writing, just under 7 billion people alive. That means that, if we believe that there are 14.1 million Mormons, Mormons make up about 0.2% of the world’s population. If, instead, we go with 2.82 million, Mormons make up about 0.03% of the world’s population, a difference of 0.17 percentage points. That is, while 14.1 million sounds like a lot (and, frankly, 2.82 million still sounds like a lot), neither is a large number in comparison with the set of living people and, in relative terms, there is a very small difference between the two.

This Discussion Would Have Totally Gotten in the Way of What Brooks Was Discussing. Look, we’re talking a blog post here. My discussion of the 14.1 million number is probably about as long as her entire post.[fn9] All this for a tangential point that very few people are interested in. We all know that not every person who belongs to a church participates. Not every person who belongs to a political party is truly interested in politics. Heck, not everybody who registers for my class attends on a regular basis.

Like I said, there’s a place for this discussion. It’s interesting as a matter of resource allocation, and as a matter of determining how well we do bringing people to Christ (or drawing them away from Him, if you’re not a fan of my belief system). And we all want to feel like we’re part of a larger group. But, at the same time, we need to be able to use shorthand to communicate some ideas. And 14.1 million seems like as good a shorthand as any.

—

[fn1] “Dishonest” would probably better reflect the discussion, but I enjoy any chance I get to use the word “disingenuous,” so I’ll stick with that.

[fn2] Note that I am not arguing that this isn’t a conversation worth having; I’m merely arguing that it was not the conversation Ms. Brooks was having and, moreover, that it would have been clunky, unnecessary, and distracting in the context she was making the argument. 14.1 million is a perfectly acceptable baseline count and, based on the context and thrust of her post, and on what appears to be general journalistic practice, was not distracting or dishonest.

[fn3] I don’t really mean the debate over whether fundamentalist Mormons should be considered Mormon, either. That’s a whole different issue.

[fn4] My search results are here, but I assume that the results will change over time. I also have to say, I don’t think the search is necessarily representative, because Brooks’s post has been reprinted a number of places, so I searched for “14 million Mormons” rather than 14.1 million to try to cut down the number of times I got a reprint of her post.

[fn5] In fact, it would appear that the same discussion happens in Catholic circles.

[fn6] Brooks, on the other hand, was using it for entirely different purposes.

[fn7] I realize that the assumptions may not be accurate, at least as respects you personally, so I’m perfectly willing to concede that I’m wrong about these assumptions. But I’ll bet that both are true for some not-insignificant portion people who care about the number of Mormons.

[fn8] Remember, I said, in order to figure out how many Mormons there are, we have to figure out what counts as a Mormon and how many people fit in that category. But I don’t want to do that work, so I’m going to assume that, once we’ve agreed on our definitions, we discover that 20% of the 14.1 million people qualify.

[fn9] Probably longer, if you include footnotes.

Of course, his comments on blogging and social media were the most interesting part of the talk. He made these comments in the context of how members of the Church ought to be more open about sharing the gospel.

With so many social media resources and a multitude of more or less useful gadgets at our disposal, sharing the good news of the gospel is easier and the effects more far-reaching than ever before. In fact, I am almost afraid that some listening have already sent text messages like “He’s been speaking for 10 minutes and still no aviation analogy!” My dear young friends, perhaps the Lord’s encouragement to “open [your] mouths” might today include “use your hands” to blog and text message the gospel to all the world! But please remember, all at the right time and at the right place.

Brothers and sisters, with the blessings of modern technology, we can express gratitude and joy about God’s great plan for His children in a way that can be heard not only around our workplace but around the world. Sometimes a single phrase of testimony can set events in motion that affect someone’s life for eternity.

I am confident that the placement of the aviation joke right in the middle of the paragraph on blogging is a signal that this is the truly important portion of the talk. But what is he saying about social media? And what does he really think about blogging? [Divine response via Fleetwood Mac: Don't ask me what I think of you, I might not give the answer that you want me to.] I’m not quite sure what he means by “at the right time and at the right place.” I’m inclined to think the right place is T&S and the right time is pretty much anytime except during Sunday meetings. Or at least not during Sacrament Meeting. Well, definitely not during the blessing and passing of the sacrament itself.

I like his reference to “a single phrase of testimony.” That is a nice way of distinguishing between on the one hand the sort of explicit, structured testimony that happens at the pulpit in testimony meeting once a month and, on the other hand, the positive comments or references about our beliefs or about our activity in the Church that occur naturally in our daily conversation. Or emails. Or blog posts. As Pres. Uchtdorf notes, a single phrase of testimony can go a long way.

Blogging and Damascus, interesting juxtaposition. Saul took the road to Damscus expecting to throw Christians in jail and came back as a witness for Christ. Sometimes blogging brings surprises — it is never quite what you expected, is it?

In fact, about the only point that Scott seems to have missed so far is the group’s hidden apologetic purpose.

What apologetic purpose, you ask?  Only that a widely read book — also widely perceived as hostile towards the church — was google-bombed halfway into oblivion.  Now, curious souls who google “Banner of Heaven” are as likely to read about X-boxes or the speculation train as they are to learn about Mountain Meadows.  Apologetics, meet Web 2.0.

And the apologetic stone cut without hands will roll forth virally, until it has overcome the entire Googleverse.  Amen.