Politics

“You can’t be a good Mormon and a Democrat!” The words were spoken by the gospel doctrine teacher in my ward in the 1980’s, a woman who happened to be the sister of a prominent church leader. Only later did I realize just how surprising that statement was, given that many other members of that Church leader’s family were Democrats. Another reason the words were surprising is that sitting in that classroom were several faithful Latter-day Saints who were Democrats.

Latter-day Saints are called to build Zion–a people “of one heart and one mind” (Moses 7:18), for “if ye are not one, ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27). Alma taught covenant unity: bearing one another’s burdens, mourning together, comforting each other, with hearts “knit together in unity and love” and no contention (Mosiah 18:8-9, 21).

Nevertheless, I occasionally heard similar statements in those years. It wasn’t hard to understand why people would say such things. Though still young, I was deeply involved in Republican politics. By 18, I had founded the Teenage Republicans in Utah County, I had been a United States Senate page, and I had been elected as the youngest delegate in the nation to the Republican National Convention. I had been attending political conventions since age 12, when my father began a string of unsuccessful campaigns. I knew the moral flashpoints of the era. I also knew the Church often took positions that seemed more aligned with one party than the other. It was easy for some to conclude that the “faithful” choice was obvious.

Yet, even in heavily-Republican Provo, where I grew up, I knew committed, thoughtful, Latter-day Saints who were Democrats. At the time, I didn’t always understand their reasons. Without social media, politics was rarely discussed casually because of its potential to stir contention.

Over the years, I came to recognize that members aligned with different parties for many reasons. Some believed one could support a candidate or platform while disagreeing on certain issues. Others believed Church policies would evolve in the future, as policies occasionally have in the past.

In conversations I had, Democrats I knew often defended their party on the grounds of caring for the poor, seeing government as an effective tool for lifting the vulnerable. The argument sometimes implied that if you really cared about people, you would vote for Democrats, while Republicans were motivated by self‑interest. But I did not support Republicans because I wanted wealth or lacked compassion. I believed their policies were more effective in lifting the poor and did more to empower families and communities. Yet, I knew faithful, intelligent Democrats who reached different conclusions.

As political history unfolded, I noticed something else: there were members of both major parties who fell short of gospel standards. Some had moral failings. Some supported policies that raised constitutional concerns. Some took positions contrary to Church teachings on marriage, life, family, or religious freedom. Others adopted rhetoric that fostered division or animosity. I saw good Saints continue to support such leaders–not because they endorsed everything about them, but because they valued a different set of priorities.

The Doctrine and Covenants says, “honest and wise men should be sought for diligently, and good men and wise men ye should observe to uphold” (D&C 98:10). The Doctrine and Covenants also states: “And that law of the land which is constitutional, supporting that principle of freedom in maintaining rights and privileges, belongs to all mankind, and is justifiable before me” (D&C 98:5-6).

However, over time, I came to appreciate an important principle. These verses do not say that we should seek after and uphold perfect leaders. In our representative democracy, we are always choosing among imperfect options, each with strengths and flaws. Our laws should be constitutional, supporting freedom and maintaining universal rights. However, with imperfect people making the laws, bills and executive orders from both parties routinely face Constitutional challenges.

Thus, a vote for a candidate means: “On balance, this best advances my principles.” It does not mean, “I endorse everything this person has ever done and will ever do,” or “I agree with the entire party platform.”

Caricaturing one another’s votes as not meeting the ideal is a quick way to breed misunderstanding and animosity. Expecting perfection from candidates or parties breeds cynicism and disengagement. And disengagement simply hands influence to those who may not share our values. Representative democracy requires honest and wise voters as much as honest and wise leaders.

Over the years, I have watched both parties support policies that courts later struck down. Both have produced leaders whose personal conduct was deeply disappointing. And I have come to understand how faithful Church members could still, in good conscience, support such leaders. The principles of D&C 98 are guideposts–not weapons with which to shame fellow Saints.

The First Presidency teaches that “[s]ome principles compatible with the gospel may be found in various political parties” and warns that voting a straight ticket “without careful study … is inconsistent with revealed standards.” Thus, we let religion inform our politics without claiming neighbors offend God by making different choices.¹

Political positions shift over time. Those once accused of disloyalty to the Church in one era might now urge others to abandon their party over a candidate’s policies, character, or conduct. Yet even when one issue feels decisive, reasonable Saints–prayerfully applying the same scriptures–can reach different conclusions. Matters such as protecting life, practicing personal integrity, helping the underprivileged and poor, preserving religious freedom, and keeping the peace all carry weight in the Lord’s eyes.

I still admire many of the leaders from my youth, even while acknowledging their flaws. Over time, I have found myself disagreeing more with certain directions within my own party, just as I have been unable to fully embrace the platform of the other. Many Saints today experience a similar sense of political homelessness.

Some conclude that a particular candidate is unfit for office by the standards of D&C 98. Others view that same candidate as the best available option. The danger comes when either conclusion is promoted as a universal commandment. Many political issues cut so close to the core of who we are as individuals, it is easy to feel threatened when our neighbor supports the “wrong” candidate. Zion can unravel quickly if we let political identity supersede covenant identity.

Some may consider joining a third party or abandoning parties altogether. However, our system tends to favor two major parties.² If fair-minded people withdraw from party politics, candidate selection will be left to those who may prioritize ideological extremes, special interests, or partisan agendas over the common good. Even small acts of engagement, such as voting in primaries, attending precinct meetings, or becoming an informed participant, help shape our communities.

Doctrine and Covenants 134 teaches that “governments were instituted of God” for our benefit, and that peaceful societies depend upon laws protecting life, property, and the free exercise of conscience (vv.1- 2). It further states that citizens will be held accountable for our actions toward the government and should seek and uphold officers who “administer the law in equity and justice” (vv. 1 & 3).

Taken together with D&C 98, these verses remind us that civic engagement is not merely a personal preference but a part of our stewardship as disciples. We are invited to participate thoughtfully in public life and to help sustain just and equitable governance.

Of course, political debate naturally brings disagreement. But the Church urges members “to be active citizens by registering, exercising their right to vote, and engaging in civic affairs, always demonstrating Christlike love and civility in political discourse.”³ Our discipleship must shape our citizenship. Few things strain unity more quickly than politics. From where boundary lines should be drawn between homes, to how boundaries should be enforced at a country’s borders, political controversy can breed anger, resentment, and animosity. We may disagree sincerely about how gospel principles translate into public policy. But we must not let those disagreements break our fellowship.

As President Dallin H. Oaks has counseled:

On the subject of public discourse, we should all follow the gospel teachings to love our neighbor and avoid contention. Followers of Christ should be examples of civility. We should love all people, be good listeners, and show concern for their sincere beliefs. Though we may disagree, we should not be disagreeable. Our stands and communications on controversial topics should not be contentious. We should be wise in explaining and pursuing our positions and in exercising our influence.⁴

As a trial attorney, I’ve seen how the adversarial courtroom process, with two sides clashing over the facts, refines arguments, clarifies truth, and can even lead to reconciliation. Politics demands the same: good-faith participants sharpening one another’s views through principled debate, not dogmatic division. In both the courtroom and the covenant community, truth is refined through humility, patience, and good-faith engagement.

We naturally assume our conclusions are right and others’ wrong. Yet, we reach better conclusions when we challenge our assumptions, engage sincerely, and remain open to correction, improving our positions through dialogue, and avoiding pitfalls created by dismissal.

Differences will always exist. In a covenant community, we can fortify Zion not despite those differences but through them. A faithful sister who votes for a party emphasizing social safety nets is not a heretic. A devoted brother who votes for a party emphasizing self‑reliance and traditional values is not selfish and uncaring. Labeling opposing political choices as inherently evil fosters the contention Christ condemned (3 Nephi 11:29), fracturing wards and families faster than the results at any ballot box.

True unity flows from charity, “the pure love of Christ” (Moroni 7:47), which “suffereth long, and is kind… thinketh no evil” (1 Corinthians 13:4-5). It assumes the best of others: that Democrats in our pews seek “honest and wise” leaders per D&C 98:10, just as Republicans do. President Oaks models this, urging us to disagree without being disagreeable, and placing discipleship above partisanship.

The assertion that “You can’t be a good Mormon and a Democrat!” was wrong in the 1980s, and any assertion that “You can’t be a good Latter-day Saint and a Republican” is equally wrong today. When we vote our conscience on election day and then clasp hands in the next sacrament meeting, we testify that our true allegiance is to Christ, not caucuses. As we seek unity across political divides, our differences can refine us toward the day when “every knee shall bow” in perfect harmony (D&C 88:104). Let us choose love over litmus tests, building bridges where ballots divide.