The Church

by Michael K. Young

Michael K. Young is the vice-chair of the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, where he works for the religious freedom of people around the globe.

At a speech I gave recently, I was asked, politely but with a bit of an edge, why I spent so much time championing the cause of freedom abroad. Weren’t there even more pressing needs and issues much closer to home? Why wasn’t I spending my time manning soup kitchens or lobbying for better health care for the hundreds of thousands of uninsured children in America?

Legitimate questions all and I must confess I did not have a ready answer. I certainly understand as well as anyone the tremendous needs in my own backyard. I have lived much of my life in New York City and on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. I also warmly applaud those who do devote their time and energy to such causes. They are worthy and pressing, just as my interlocutor implied.

But underneath her question was, I think, an even more stinging criticism, implied, but very real, nonetheless. Wasn’t the real task of a true Christian to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, tend the sick and comfort the widow? Without charity, after all, isn’t it all tinkling brass? I, on the other hand, while professing my Christianity, was nevertheless ignoring the widow and, instead, lobbying the State Department.

At some levels, this was a fair criticism, to be sure. I do local service to the poor and the needy. And I try to minister to friends, family and fellow congregants in need. But I am sure I could do more if I gave up other activities. And, outside of work and family, the activity that undoubtedly takes by far the most time is that of my work on behalf of freedom of religion around the world. Certainly if I abandoned that, I would have more time for other activities, including these highly worthy tasks.

But, the truth of the matter is that I do not feel impressed to abandon this work. Indeed, to the contrary, I feel compelled to continue, almost compulsively so. It remains constantly in my mind and my heart. The faces of elderly North Koreans who have been imprisoned and tortured for praying in their homes, the eloquent testimony of Sudanese who were beaten and pressed into slavery for carrying a Bible, the impassioned pleas of Vietnamese highlanders who have seen their fathers and brothers beaten to death for refusing to renounce their religion. All of these faces and words are with me constantly. Try as I might, I cannot walk away, however pressing the needs I see even closer to home.

A Scriptural Basis?

But the question also moved me to consider whether there was a scriptural basis for what seemed to compel me so emotionally and spiritually. I realize there are enormously powerful practical reasons for Mormons to be on the vanguard of religious liberty advocates. We, after all, have in recent memory our own persecutions and depredations. Equally importantly, we have the most active, vibrant missionary program in the world and, as the scriptures command us, a responsibility and a privilege to preach the Gospel in every tongue and in every land.

But the more I reflected on this issue, the more I began to understand that we perhaps also have a deeply theological compulsion, as well. The more closely I read the Book of Mormon with this question in mind, the more I sense that freedom — and the quest to maintain it — has a profound theological dimension. Not only do political theory and real-world history teach us that protecting the rights of others increases the likelihood that we will enjoy equivalent rights, but, much more importantly, the Gospel seems to require that we do so. Indeed, freedom doesn’t even seem to be a political concept as much as a theological one.

Of course, by implication a certain degree of freedom is enormously helpful, if not essential to our salvation. After all, to help us achieve salvation, the Lord has instituted a number of rites and ordinances, including some that are essential, like the temple rites, and some that are highly useful, like the sacrament. Moreover, we are told to meet together often, to pray in private and public, to teach our children, to pay a tithe, to witness to the divinity of the Savior and to do many other things, all of which require some substantial degree of religious freedom. I think we all recognize the practical necessity of religious liberties in our religious lives.

At the same time, however, I think the matter runs much deeper. I really do think a most fundamental and profound doctrine underlies the freedom, not only for us, but for everyone. And I think that same doctrinal imperative enjoins us to work to ensure that freedom, again not only for ourselves, but for everyone.

The Anti-Christ Korihor

Among the most profound articulations of that principle is found in a rather unlikely place, Alma’s discourse with the Anti-Christ Korihor in the 30th Chapter of Alma. Korihor began to preach “against the prophecies which had been spoken by the prophets.” (v. 6) This, however, was not a concern of the law, as the Book of Mormon makes abundantly — almost excessively — clear. Even before we learn how pernicious Korihor’s teachings were from a theological perspective, or indeed even what Korihor’s teachings were, we learn that “the law could have no hold upon him.” (v. 12) For, the scriptures tell us, “there was no law against a man’s belief.” (v. 7)

But the scriptures do not leave it at that. They make clear that no such law was in place because “it was strictly contrary to the commands of God that there should be a law which should bring men on to unequal grounds.” (v. 7) I find two parts of that sentence enormously interesting. First, the absence of a law dictating one’s belief was not a practical decision on the part of the judges; rather, it was because such a law was contrary to the commands of God. It is hard to think of a more direct statement regarding the appropriate basis for freedom of thought and conscience than that.

But the second part of that sentence is equally interesting. It is not merely a law restricting freedom of belief or thought that is prohibited by God’s commands, it is any law “which should bring men on to unequal grounds.” (v. 7)

The very next verse tells us the profound theological principle on which that command is based. It reads: “For thus saith the scripture: Choose ye this day, whom ye will serve.” (v. 8) In other words, this command from God is predicated on that most fundamental principle of all, the primacy of free agency. The laws and the government must be structured to give ample scope to that principle. Anything else is “contrary to the commands of God.”

But in case we missed the point, the author proceeds to beat us over the head with it for three more verses. And all this without even telling us precisely what Korihor was saying.

Moroni and Pahoran

The Book of Mormon goes even a significant step further in defining the importance of freedom. Again, in a somewhat unlikely place. This time, it in the 61st chapter of Alma, in Pahoron’s nobly temperate response to Moroni’s accusations against him and his government during a time of serious threat to the country and its liberty. As we recall, just as the Lamanites were knocking at the door, a group of grasping Nephites attempted to take over the government and install a king for their own personal advantage and gain. In trying to put down this rebellion, Pahoran was not adequately supplying Moroni and his troops. Moroni, knowing little of the situation at home, told Pahoran in no uncertain terms that he better send supplies or Moroni would come and get them and the consequences for Pahoran would not be good.

At this point, the now twice beleaguered Pahoran replies that he welcomes Moroni’s ardor and indeed urges him to come and get the supplies and, in the process, put down the rebellion. In telling Moroni to come, Pahoran does not intend to leave the country defenseless against the Lamanites, of course, and he urges Moroni to leave Lehi and Teancum to contend with the invaders.

And here is where Pahoran’s injunction gets interesting. He also urges Moroni to ensure that Lehi and Teancum have adequate power and authority to prosecute the war appropriately. In particular, he urges Moroni to give them “power to conduct the war … according to the Spirit of the Lord…” (v. 15), which is, in and of itself, not such a surprising injunction, coming from a righteous man, as it does. But what is interesting is the manner in which Pahoran links that Spirit and the guidance they might derive from it to the cause of liberty. He tells Moroni to give them “power to conduct the war… according to the Spirit of God, which is also the spirit of freedom which is in them.” (v. 15)

The linking of the Spirit of God to the spirit of freedom in those distressed circumstances, circumstances in which freedom is under dire attack, seems neither accidental nor casual. To the contrary, it seems quite purposeful and pointedly makes the connection between true liberty, on the one hand, and true inspiration and heavenly guidance, on the other. Indeed, like the verses cited earlier, it leaves no doubt of the centrality of the concept of free will in Heavenly Father’s plan and the importance of a government that strives to make that freedom available, available not for practical or prudential reasons, but rather for profound theological purposes. Freedom, especially as it relates to our capacity to worship according to the dictates of our own conscience, is not just a political principle, but it is among the very most basic gospel principles. Indeed, it is not accident that this very principle found its way into the Articles of Faith. It is an article of our faith, perhaps among the very most important.

For Ourselves and Others

And, of course, as we saw in the case of Korihor, it is a right and blessing that should be available not only to us, but, equally importantly, to others, even others with whom we strongly disagree. Intriguingly, perhaps the story of Korihor teaches us that it is especially important that such freedom be provided particularly to people with whom we strongly disagree. The essence — and, at once, the challenge — of this freedom is, after all, to give it to those whom we know to be misguided, perhaps eternally so. Perhaps the doctrine is so important and so foundational because it challenges us to give it precisely to those with whom we most disagree, to those who not only disagree with us, but who might also themselves, if left to their own devices, take that very freedom from us.

In fact, the scriptures also make abundantly clear the relationship of this freedom to righteousness. In the beginning of that long war that was the center of the controversy between Moroni and Pahoran, we encounter Amalickiah, a person who both aspires to be king and who would clearly deprive others of the very freedoms he demands for himself. In chapter 46 of Alma, Amalickiah conspires to be king. Moroni raises the Title of Liberty, rallies the people to his side and thwarts Amalickiah’s ambitions.

Interestingly, those who join Moroni in the quest to preserve liberty are eventually called “Christians” because their religious belief in the importance of defending freedom underlies their political actions in doing so. (v. 18) And the author of this chapter makes absolutely clear the connection between freedom and righteous living. Indeed, he condemns Amalickiah precisely because he would “destroy the foundation of liberty which God had granted unto them….” (v. 10) Or, as he continues, “which blessing God had sent upon the face of the land for the righteous’ sake.” (v. 10) In other words, liberty — and its political and governmental foundations — is a blessing from God. And, like all blessings, it is a blessing given to the people for the sake of the righteous.

But, and here is where it gets quite interesting, the author is very careful to point out — indeed, he even slightly corrects himself in verse 10 to ensure that he gets it exactly right — it is a blessing sent “upon the face of the land” In short, because of the righteous, the blessing is bestowed on all, not just the righteous, but on all.

Again, as I think about where I want to be in all this, I think I would like to be one of the righteous who works towards ensuring that the wonderful blessing of freedom is available for all. That seems both an obligation of righteousness, as well as its consequence.

Freedom and Gospel Living

In other places as well, the Book of Mormon is equally quick to associate positive political results in the arena of freedom with correct gospel living. Alma himself, after finally setting Korihor straight, or at least as straight as Korihor was ever going to get, discovers that the Zoramites are denying the Christ, worshiping with set prayers and otherwise despising the poor. Rather unremarked in all this, though eventually central to Alma’s missionary efforts, the Zoramites are also denying the poor the opportunity to worship. A strange worship it is, but still rites, rituals and prayers are being denied the poor. In chapter 31 of Alma, Alma therefore departs the church in Zarahemla and goes to preach the word. For, as the author makes clear, “the preaching of the word had a great tendency to lead the people to do that which was just — yea it had had more powerful effect upon the minds of the people than the sword or anything else, which had happened unto them….” (v. 5)

In short, all the wars of liberation, the famines, the other natural disasters, none of these were likely to cause the people to create a just society as much as was the “preaching of the word.

The relationship between righteousness in religious life and righteousness in government, especially with respect to freedom of religion seems clear and unmistakable.

I sometimes wonder whether that isn’t what Joseph Smith meant when he said that he saw the Constitution hanging by a thread and that it would be saved by the Elders. After all, in most of Joseph Smith’s writings and pronouncements surrounding that prophecy, he usually uses the term “Elder” to describe those who are proclaiming the Gospel, much as we generally use it today. So, as much as I would like to think the Constitution will be saved by those of us with sophisticated legal training and years of legal experience, perhaps instead real constitutional salvation comes from the tens of thousands of young men and women who preach the Gospel around the world. They, after all, increase the number of righteous in the world and it is for the sake of the righteous, we have learned, that the Lord blesses “the face of the land” with “liberty.” (Alma 46:10)

What does all this mean for me? Well, for me at least, all this provides perhaps the strongest incentive and the clearest injunction to exert my efforts on behalf of securing freedom not just for Mormons or even just for Christians, but for all peoples of the earth. I increasingly sense this is not only essential to ensure my own freedom, but perhaps to ensure my salvation as well.

That, in turn, causes me not only to work assiduously to advance the cause of religious liberties around the world, but also to examine which laws I support and which I oppose even in the United States. The touchstone of my analysis, of course, is whether a law expands the freedom to believe as one chooses or restricts it. Of course, one might reasonably debate whether a law restricts or expands freedom and, from time to time, reasonable people can certainly differ. But, what is clear to me, at least, is that that touchstone is not only politically wise, but religiously compelled.

And so, while I continue to applaud – very warmly applaud – those who provide other kinds of service, as well. As a Christian, I make no apology for my passion for freedom of religion, both for myself and for other.

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