Christopher James Blythe is Assistant Professor of English (Folklore) at Brigham Young University and editor of the Journal of Mormon History. He received his PhD in American religious history from Florida State University.

Shortly after the trailer for Under the Banner of Heaven released in late March, my Twitter feed filled with commentary about its reproduction of the Latter-day Saint temple endowment ritual. The only twitter post I specifically remember from that evening was from a young ex-Mormon woman who expressed concern that depicting temple ordinances was an act of prejudice. What followed over the next several hours was a textbook example of social media bullying filled with insults and condescension. By the next day, the young woman, now sufficiently bludgeoned and put back in line, had professed her intention to never write about Mormonism again. You are right, guys. I feel terrible. Sorry I didn’t think through how offensive my comments were. Reading her apology was as disturbing as witnessing the initial onslaught. Twitter rarely facilitates healthy discourse, and, in this case, its users already had the mechanisms in place to silence unpopular opinions. It was unacceptable to express even the mildest concern about the treatment of what millions consider a private, sacred rite. I don’t like depictions of the temple ceremony, but I am much more disturbed by the sentiment that Latter-day Saints (and their supporters) should not speak out against a clearly prejudicial take on their religious tradition. So, as a result, I have agreed to write about Under the Banner of Heaven’s depiction of temple ordinances in its third episode.[i]

            A simple principle underlies my methodology when writing on esotericism: exposure is a violent act. (If the word “violent”—albeit appropriate—feels too dramatic for you, then feel free to replace it with “intolerant” or “harmful.”)

I doubt that many Latter-day Saints are losing sleep over public depictions of what we consider sacred, but it makes the world a little less tolerant for those of us who identify with our faith. It’s the sort of thing that makes people question whether a “Mormon” could be president, whether someone might be hired or promoted, or whether Latter-day Saints (especially men) are bred to be dangerous (as is suggested in the first episode of Under the Banner of Heaven). Most importantly, exposure is experienced as prejudice. One Latter-day Saint memorably claimed, “Discussing the temple ceremonies openly is as insensitive as burning the Torah, stomping on the Eucharist [or] desecrating a mosque.”[ii] That resonates with my personal experience.

Academically trained scholars usually don’t need to be convinced that exposé is violent. However, not all creators are on the same page (or have academic training) and exposé remains a prominent aspect of some podcasts, articles, and blogs. Giving the benefit of the doubt, I suspect many descriptions or depictions of the endowment are more about being edgy than they are about inflicting harm. Others see themselves in conflict with the tradition and knowingly employ the strategy of exposé to combat some element of the faith, warn potential converts of alleged dangers, or even seek to discipline the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for some misdeed. These creators may imagine this sort of violence specifically targets Church leaders who have harmed them. But that’s not how public blasphemy works. In terms of weapons, it’s not a bullet; it’s a bomb.

The potential victims include an entire people, which, in my opinion, should cause ethical persons to question their willingness to participate in (or applaud) such acts.

            There is a long tradition of exposé in polemical works about the Latter-day Saint tradition, just as Latter-day Saints have a long tradition of concealing aspects of their rituals and theology from outsiders. Temple exposés appeared as soon as endowments began to be performed in Nauvoo. Not surprisingly, these exposés focused on sexual exploitation, violence, and treason that were allegedly at the centerpiece of the ceremony. Those who described the real or alleged details of the ritual believed they were justified in doing so because they saw Mormonism as politically or theologically dangerous.

A New Anti-Mormonism: The Context of UTBOH

            I have recently written about the history of temple exposé up to the turn of the twenty-first century. In the remainder of this essay, I want to think about how I would fit this scene from UTBOH into that larger story. Of course, to contextualize UTBOH’s endowment scene, the first task would be to understand its context in the present moment. A great deal has occurred in the past two decades. Most importantly, we have gone through the “Mormon Moment,” putting awareness of the tradition at an all-time high. The long Mormon Moment included attention to Mormon Fundamentalism, Latter-day Saint political involvement, and a new place for depictions of LDS in entertainment. Thousands upon thousands came together to laugh at Latter-day Saints and their unconventional beliefs in The Book of Mormon musical. The award-winning play made giggling at Mormons a public and acceptable communal experience.

            If I was to write a fuller essay on exposé in the current moment, I might start with Julian Assange and the philosophy undergirding WikiLeaks, which to state simply is that secrets—at least secrets of those we deem powerful—are inherently dangerous and deserve exposing. There is likely a worthwhile connection to be made between the exposure of Scientology’s OT documents and the casualization of Temple exposé. Our culture has re-established the sense of virtue involved in exposing minority religious esotericism. There is a new (and admirable) valorization of whistleblowers throughout government and corporation that has spilled on to whistleblowers in religious communities.

            In this hypothetical article, I would look at popular culture exposés. Garment-clad characters appeared on several popular TV shows in the 2000s, including ABC’s Quantico, HBO’s Angels in America, and EPIX’s Get Shorty. In 2007, the widely panned September Dawn depicted portions of an endowment ceremony in their telling of Mountain Meadows Massacre. In 2009, a much larger audience witnessed a segment of the endowment on HBO’s Big Love, the first time it showed up on a mainstream show. Depicting the actual ceremony in mainstream popular culture remains an oddity in the twenty-first century.

Those who have depicted these rites or clothing for the sake of humor or entertainment have been uninterested in Latter-day Saint objections. In 2019, comedian David Cross explained the humor he saw in the concept of “sacred underwear” on the Conan O’Brien show. Cross had caused a minor uproar by promoting a standup comedy show in Salt Lake City with an image of the comedian trying on garments. When O’Brien pointed to those who found the photoshopped image offensive, Cross responded with a callous “I don’t care.” That same indifferent attitude is detectable in HBO’s apology issued before releasing the infamous Big Love episode. Sorry if you are offended, but we will be releasing this.

            I would also set up the context of UTBOH’s temple scene appearing in the wake of a new form of aggressive anti-Mormonism focused on producing “on-the-ground” exposé and desecration. What I am coining “new anti-Mormonism” may have had its origins with Christian Fundamentalist Lonnie Pursifull’s garment-waving protests on Temple Square. Mike Norton began his own secular ministry in the same spirit and re-shaped internet anti-Mormonism with a barrage of video recordings of temple ceremonies. TikTok has allowed a generation of young ex-Mormons to gain the semblance of celebrity with their own videos of getting dressed and undressed in temple robes.

            I think this context is important. It explains why those involved in UTBOH knew they would not face widespread public outrage for their reproduction of the temple.

It is also crucial to understand the LDS reaction to the scene. For some time, Latter-day Saints have learned to silently tolerate public humiliation. This has not been the case with the response to UTBOH. There appears to be a general exhaustion at a decade of attention and applause at prejudice. Latter-day Saints are aware that to respond at all comes with repercussions (Such as accusations that the speaker is suffering from a “persecution complex”). If my observation is accurate and Latter-day Saints (not institutionally but individually) have chosen to object to UTBOH, then that is a noteworthy development indeed.

            When it comes to UTBOH’s temple scene, there is a great deal of accuracy, certainly more than the nineteenth-century attempts at recalling the endowment. This includes an elaborate set designed to look like the Salt Lake Temple’s interior. UTBOH depicts several symbols that initiates explicitly promise not to reveal to others. As a radicalized Lafferty wife narrates, the film cuts to a flashback of Brenda’s experience of a temple ceremony. Filmed in high key lighting, the scene’s bright atmosphere clashes with the foreboding electronic organ of the soundtrack. The score is manipulative and unsettling—like a warped choral piece with a low disturbing rumble.

Just as the editing laces a temple scene over a suspenseful—almost horror sounding—musical score, the visuals are also edited in parallel to layer the present conversation about blood atonement over the sacred ritual. The temple scene goes silent and the audio of the Lafferty wife’s narration invades that scene to equate certain movements with blood atonement. Her voice invades the other visuals and determines their meaning. Being silenced (literally achieved by the film’s editing) and making sacred covenants are equated with, even filtered through, the explanation of “blood atonement.” This is tendentious and misleading. Historian Patrick Mason has referred to this emphasis as a “return to old tropes” of Mormon violence.[iii] This is, of course, in keeping with the larger thesis of the book and series.

I invite viewers to notice a different symbol deployed in UTBOH, namely the overly stern officiator in the ceremony and the old woman shushing the chattering Laffertys as they wait for the endowment to begin. This is not a safe place. Everything about the depiction of the endowment in UTBOH is to set up a religion that seeks only to control and silence adherents (particularly women). The Lafferty women debate “agency” before Brenda Lafferty’s long-awaited rite of passage, when the frustrated female temple worker demands their silence. One of Lafferty’s female companions likewise warns/scolds, “The temple workers are listening.” (I’m reminded of the handmaids’ fears of surveillance in Margaret Atwood’s dystopian Gilead.) More than a few LDS commentators have pointed out that loud speaking during the ceremony would be very unlikely in an actual temple setting, but it is implemented here to ensure the viewer will understand what they are expected to get out of the scene.

This subtle technique visualized former Latter-day Saint Deborah Laake’s contention that she exposed the ceremony precisely because “the secrecy that shrouds the temple story was at the heart of what the Mormon Church was asking me to do: live a life I couldn’t talk about.” In this rendering, the secret ceremony is designed to establish clear hierarchies (men-women; temple worker-initiates; old-young.) There is shame in Allen Lafferty’s eyes as he looks across the room to his future wife. He fully believes she is undergoing a traumatizing experience.

A Brief Response

            I have no doubt that people experience the endowment in any number of positive or negative ways. With the emphasis on worthiness to participate in temple rituals, some find the experience guilt wracking. In 1941, President David O. McKay noted a common reaction was disappointment.[iv] Ann Eliza Young professed to have found the whole thing comical. Certainly, many leave confused. Sociologist Jana Riess found that while only 6% of millennials reported having felt “unprepared” for the ritual, this was much more common in an earlier generation.[v] Others feel uplifted, reflective, and with a sense of “communitas.” I like how Susa Young Gates described a young fictional couple’s endowment ceremony. She wrote, “I visioned them robed in white, passing from court to court, receiving and making their promises and vows as they ascended from glory to glory.”[vi] Spencer W. Kimball’s 1971 description of a sealing ceremony he performed as a “glimpse of heaven” captures a similar sense of romantic excitement. He recalled, “Here were peace and harmony and eager anticipation. A well-groomed young man and an exquisitely gowned young woman, lovely beyond description, knelt across the altar.”

But one could also have a negative experience. The problem is that for those who loved their temple experience, there is little sense of what Sharon Wright Weeks, Brenda’s sister, referred to as the “creepy” depiction in UTBOH. For Brenda, as her sister explained, “it was a personal, beautiful experience that she absolutely cherished… She loved every bit of it. She didn’t think it was weird. She didn’t think it was creepy.” Ironically, it is the creators of UTBOH who have silenced Brenda in their depiction of her experience in the temple.

[i] If you are interested in more details on my thoughts about exposé, check out my recent contribution to the Routledge Handbook on Religion and Secrecy. That article also goes into a variety of related topics. See also, Brad Kramer’s excellent dissertation, “Keeping the Sacred: Structured Silence in the Enactment of Priesthood Authority, Gendered Worship, and Sacramental Kinship in Mormonism.” available here.

[ii] Peggy Fletcher Stack, “Author Spills Secrets Sacred to LDS Church,” Salt Lake Tribune, May 8, 1993

[iii] Patrick Mason, “Under the Banner of Old Tropes,” Public Square Magazine, April 22, 2022. https://publicsquaremag.org/faith/climate-end-times/under-the-banner-of-old-tropes/

[iv] David O. McKay, “Temple Address,” September 25, 1941. https://emp.byui.edu/SATTERFIELDB/PDF/DavidOMcKay%27sTempleSermon.pdf

[v] Jana Riess, The Next Mormons (New York: Oxford University Press, 2019), 60.

[vi] Susa Young Gates, “At the Temple Gates,” unpublished short story, Church History Library.