The Book of Mormon Musical

I just read the New Yorker's review of "The Book of Mormon." It was nice to see a review that wasn't gushing, since that's all that's crossed my desk so far. The reviewer, John Lahr, acknowledged its popularity but was also critical of that popularity.

I'm really not happy about the fact that this musical is turning out to be popular. From what little I know of the plot, it sounds like it's just waiting to be eviscerated from the left, and I hope that when that happens, it happens in a way that can temper some of the public enthusiasm—i.e., make the play controversial in a way that forces Parker and Stone and their fans to put real effort into shrugging off the play's unintended political incorrectnesses.

But I'm really unhappy because of the way this musical will reinforce the trivialization of a religion—let's say, a spiritual tradition—that to me is decidedly not trivial. I say this as someone who laughed uproariously at the South Park episode where it turned out that the Mormons were the ones who had the right religion and went to heaven. I say it as someone who was impressed with the effort to accurately depict Book of Mormon origins in "All About the Mormons" and thought that they treated us with uncustomary respect at the end. Think about how South Park has depicted Judaism, or Catholicism, or Scientology. In their way, Parker and Stone like us. That's why they were so passionate about making this musical.

And I hope that Mormons will have the good sense to either go to the musical and laugh along with it or just keep away and keep quiet. No sanctimonious letters to the editor—or worse, sanctimonious press releases out of Salt Lake. The best way LDS Public Affairs can respond to this musical is to keep their damn mouths shut so they don't put their feet into them.

With all those caveats out of the way, it pains me that this musical is going to further enshrine Mormonism in American popular culture as a sign of Christian fundamentalism that, viewed in the most positive light, is quirky in its teachings and quaintly if endearingly earnest. But, of course, that's not really Parker and Stone's fault. It's the fault of the fundamentalists who dominate Mormonism—who insist on the literal truth of incredible doctrinal claims and pride themselves on their allegiance to 1950s-era (if not earlier) mores. They're the ones who've generated the Mormon image that Parker and Stone are now taking over for their own comedic purposes.

It pains me that the images of Mormons and Mormonism that have greatest currency in American culture are missionaries who want you to join their church because it's the only true one; Proposition 8; the black priesthood ban. (I'm actually not so bothered that polygamy's on that list, but I'll have to analyze that later.) I wish that in that mix there were a Mormon equivalent to Mother Teresa, or Desmond Tutu, or Oscar Romero, or the nuns marching for black civil rights. Our religion would be taken more seriously if that were the case—still made fun of and criticized, too, to be sure, and for perfectly good reasons. But people would know that this religion is capable of spiritual greatness, too.

This is not, I hasten to clarify, a public relations problem. It's not something that will be fixed by LDS Public Affairs working harder to publicize Mormon humanitarian initiatives. You don't earn the kind of respect I'm wishing we had through calculated publicity. You earn it by just being out there, doing good, so consistently and regularly that you just become a familiar part of the social landscape—the way Mormon missionaries are now simply by virtue of the fact that there are so many out there, all the time, knocking on doors and passing out pamphlets on streets. That's what people know Mormons for because that's what Mormons have decided to dedicate premium energy and resources to. If we dedicated that much energy to other causes—building schools and clinics in developing countries, or showing up to peace rallies, or whatever—if those were our top priorities—then we'd be known for that. And depending on what we established as our priorities, we could command more respect.

Not that commanding respect is the most important thing. The most important thing is to do God's work. But the Spirit that is given to everyone who comes into the world helps people recognize God's work when they see it. There's a reason that outsiders as a rule aren't all that impressed with Mormons trying to stop them on the street to tell them about the one true church, or setting out to vicariously baptize all the dead, or evading conversations about the black priesthood ban. Like fundamentalists of all stripes, the fundamentalists who dominate Mormonism haven't figured out what God's work is really fundamentally about.