Transcription
Mormon temples. Is Jesus a narcissist?
When I was a kid, I remember my siblings and I were taken to the temple often. We went to open houses. We waited on temple grounds while my parents did endowment sessions. And later we did baptisms for the dead. The temple loomed large in my young world. The song "I Love to See the Temple" was one of my favorites to sing in primary.
As I look back on those times, two distinct impressions remain with me of the temple. The first was a feeling of awe at the beauty and luxury and magnificence of the temple. How different it was from my own poor farmhouse and the surroundings I was raised in. The contrast between the grandeur of the temple and of our own poor home struck me with something like reverence and maybe humility. I was amazed that I got to visit such an extraordinarily luxurious building.
The second feeling I distinctly remember, in fact I can still see the lighting and the stone and the gold lettering in my mind to this day, was reading the engraved words "The House of the Lord" on the side of the temple and imagining Jesus walking the temple halls at night. But feeling just a little bit confused because wasn't Jesus poor just like I was? Primary and seminary taught me that he was the son of a country carpenter, a lonely Nazarene, born in a stable, and throughout his adult life, a homeless wanderer. How could the most expensive, luxurious building I'd ever been in be his home? That feeling of confusion continues with me to this day.
What would Jesus' home really be like if he was with us here now? Would it really be an extravagant and expensive temple?
The history of the world is full of great and important men and the luxurious temples and monuments they build from countless societies and civilizations both past and present. For example, there's the Great Pyramid of Giza, built around 2500 BC for Pharaoh Kufu to house his body and proclaim his cosmic power. Apparently, it took countless thousands of slaves over 20 years to build it for him. Then there's the Terracotta Army, built in about 200 BC to guard the tomb of Emperor Qin Shi Huang and escort him into the afterlife. It contains tens of thousands of handcrafted, life-sized clay soldiers, horses, and weapons and cost an enormous fortune in time and money. Then there's the Taj Mahal, built around 1650 AD by Emperor Shah Jahan as an elaborate and extremely costly tomb for his wife Mumtaz Mahal. There's Mount Rushmore, built from 1927 to 1941 to honor four of the most famous US presidents and costing hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars in today's money. Carnegie Hall was built by Dale Carnegie to showcase his personal wealth and importance, also costing hundreds of millions of dollars in today's money. And then there's the Obama Presidential Center and the Clinton Presidential Library, each costing hundreds of millions of dollars.
In this same pattern, today the LDS church has built some 200 temples, plus an additional 60 under construction, costing up to $100 million each. The majority of them are living monuments to the legacy-building competition between Presidents Hinckley and Nelson. And the cherry on top of them all is Nelson's new Salt Lake Temple, currently undergoing close to a $1 billion renovation in tithing money. So many important men. So much money spent to immortalize them. I can hardly wrap my mind around these sums of money and how someone would feel so entitled as to think they deserved such monuments.
These great temples and buildings remind me of a book I read for the first time last summer. It was called "The Theory of the Leisure Class," written in 1899 by economist Thorstein Veblen. It was a bit thick to read in parts, but it also had some fascinating insights. And one such insight was a pattern seen throughout history which he called conspicuous consumption.
Conspicuous consumption is defined as the wasting of valuable resources by important people not to meet human needs but to demonstrate status. They ritualize spending as a signal of power, exclusivity, or divine favor. How interesting. The deliberate wasting, or as the LDS church might say, sacrificing of necessary resources in order to make one person look important.
I asked Chad TPT to give me the seven most common examples of conspicuous consumption throughout history. And here's what it came up with.
Number one, palaces and monumental architecture. Palaces like Versailles, the Forbidden City, Roman villas, and monumental tombs like the pyramids, the Taj Mahal. Immense resources consumed and largely for display.
Number two, temples and sacred structures. Lavishly decorated shrines and temples, ziggurats of Mesopotamia, Maya pyramids, gilded cathedrals functioning as God's houses, but also as status projects for kings, priests, leaders, or institutions. And I'm going to add, presidents of the church.
Number three, costly apparel and jewels. Gold-threaded robes, crowns, pearls, ceremonial regalia, clothing and adornment designed to dazzle, not to clothe.
Number four, feasts and banquets. From the Roman "bread and circuses" to medieval jousts and tournaments, Chinese imperial banquets. Immense food and drink consumed to demonstrate abundance and patronage.
Number five, harems and retinues. Of course, large harems of wives, concubines, and slaves, and entourages of attendants. Human beings as conspicuous symbols of power, fertility, and wealth.
Number six, spectacle and entertainment. Like gladiatorial games, chariot races, Aztec human sacrifices, Renaissance court masques. Costly staged events as public theater of dominance.
And number seven, exotic imports. Spices, silks, rare woods, marble from across the seas. The further the distance, the stronger the signal of wealth.
As I read this list and think of my own experiences in the church, I'm struck by the connections: the incredible buildings, the expensive suits, the raised velvet chairs, the elite birthday parties and parades, the polygamous harems, and all the conspicuous consumption associated with LDS royalty. All financed and paid for with the widow's mite.
A couple of years before I was excommunicated, the church was building a temple in the town next to ours. The construction was going on during the pandemic and it got delayed due to some issues getting the expensive Portuguese stone for the exterior of the temple unloaded at US ports. Our priesthood leaders discussed with us the possibility of our stake raising money to help get the stone airlifted to shore to bypass the clogged ports, and the sum of $2 million was mentioned. I remember being struck in that meeting by two things.
First, why did a temple in Washington state need luxury stone imported from Portugal of all places? Our entire region here is covered with rock. Are our rocks not good enough for Jesus?
And second, why were we considering spending millions on airlifting such an extravagant display of wealth while so many people in our area were losing their jobs due to the shutdowns and experiencing health issues from the pandemic? It seemed really strange to me. And to be honest, it still seems strange to this day.
Along with everything else I've learned about the finances of the church, their conspicuous consumption by the leaders at the top, financed by burdening those at the very bottom, feels somehow off from the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.
I was watching an interview the other day with Luke Kemp, the author of "Goliath's Curse." In the interview, he discussed the many empires, dynasties, and civilizations of the past that fell. And he noted that the canary in the coal mine before each of their falls was, to quote him, "conspicuous consumption." I was surprised to hear him say that phrase because it means he also read Veblen and he noticed that pattern too.
What Kemp sees in the archaeological record is that great displays of wasted resources to idolize leaders always predates the fall of their empires. The iniquity, this disparity between the rich and the poor, grows so great and obvious to everyone that it destabilizes the power structures and makes the empire ripe for collapse or overthrow or destruction.
When I heard this, my ears perked up. This seems to be one of the central recurring themes of the Book of Mormon and the warning to the Gentiles. Iniquity brings destruction. Conspicuous consumption, injustices, raising some individuals or groups above others, hoarding riches, pride and vanity and elitism. These are the harbingers of the fall of all civilizations throughout history.
My mind went to the people of King Noah. Noah is a textbook case for this pattern of self-importance, temple building, and conspicuous consumption. The Book of Mormon shows this through his grandiose building projects and architecture. The Book of Mormon says, "King Noah built many elegant and spacious buildings, and he ornamented them with fine work of wood and all manner of precious things, and he built a spacious palace and a throne in the midst thereof. And he caused his workmen that they should work all manner of fine work within the walls of the temple." Like all great men throughout the ages, including our LDS leaders today, Noah built palaces, thrones, and ornamented temples as a display of his importance.
Number two, luxury and wealth. The Book of Mormon says he placed his heart upon his riches. And he laid a tax of one-fifth of all they possessed to support himself and his wives and his concubines and also his priests in their idleness. And thus they were supported in their laziness and then their idolatry and in their whoredoms. Like all great men, Noah took money from everyone else to lift himself up above them.
Number three, feasts and wine. He planted vineyards round about in the land, and he built wine presses and made wine in abundance. Therefore, he became a wine-bibber, and also his people. So he entertained himself, just like the great people of old, with festivals and drink.
And number four, concubines and harems. The Book of Mormon says he had many wives and concubines. And he spent his time in riotous living with his wives and concubines. And so did also his priests spend their time with harlots. And like most great men, especially those of the LDS church, he displayed his power and importance through sexual excess and the monopolization of women.
Number five, taxation as fuel for display. Through all of these things, Noah, like all powerful and self-important leaders, siphoned the people's labor and resources, not to help the poor, but to lift himself up and his priests up. This is what Veblen would call waste turned into honor. And it is exactly what is on display among the great and important religious, government, and business leaders of today.
The Book of Mormon shows this pattern so powerfully over and over again. It was there when Lehi was commanded to flee Jerusalem. It was there when Jacob was sent by the Lord to rebuke the Nephites in Jacob 2. It was there when Alma and Amulek were sent to Ammonihah. When Samuel the Lamanite was sent to Zarahemla. Ether saw it among the people of Coriantumr. And Moroni saw it among the Gentiles of our day.
It's so cool for me to see this pattern. Lehi, Jacob, Alma, Samuel, Ether, Moroni, they were all sent by Jesus to warn the people that if they didn't repent to this gross iniquity, this conspicuous consumption, this taxing and tithing of the poor and lifting up the proud and important people in their luxury and vanity, that the Lord would allow their empires to fall. And I see the Book of Mormon as a prophet warning us today of the same thing. I think we have this book right now for this reason. It is a pattern and it is a warning.
This all brings me back to my initial question. What would Jesus' home really be like if he was with us here and now? And that's an important question for me to try to answer because it can tell me so much about who he really is.
It seems to me that the Christ of the LDS church and the Catholic Church and maybe even some of the Protestant churches is a narcissist. I mean, let's be honest. Just look at the definition of a narcissist. It's someone who is "self-centered, has an inflated sense of their own importance, and a strong need for admiration, often paired with a lack of empathy for others." So, anyone who requires luxurious and imposing temples to be built to themselves that cost hundreds of millions of dollars, money taken from the mouths of the poor, is the textbook definition of a narcissist. The LDS Jesus with his hundreds of such grossly expensive and luxurious Houses of the Lord is the ultimate example.
But is the true Jesus Christ really a narcissist like the LDS church has for their Jesus? Is he someone who sits on a throne in the middle of a conference center who longs to be celebrated and worshiped? Who needs to hear his name repeated over and over to hear himself quoted? Is he someone who requires great sacrifices of resources, our time, talents, our very lives if necessary, all that we've been blessed with to build countless luxury temples in his honor when those resources could have fed, clothed, and healed the poor? This just doesn't sit right with me.
The more I read and really try to understand the Book of Mormon and the Jesus Christ it teaches, I see someone who is poor in spirit, humble, generous, kind, and one with us. This Book of Mormon Christ is not a God of conspicuous consumption. He doesn't require any money from us. He doesn't place burdens on us. He doesn't dwell in unholy temples. And he doesn't want a single sacrifice from us. He doesn't want us to conspicuously waste our resources on grand displays or rituals in his honor. He just wants us to be like him.
As he said, "Your sacrifices and your burnt offerings shall be done away, for I will accept none of your sacrifices and your burnt offerings. Instead, you shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit." And he says, "Come unto me all ye ends of the earth. Buy milk and honey without money and without price."
During the past two years, my belief in Jesus Christ has radically changed. And it has become this: If Jesus wants us to adore him or speak of him or remember him for anything, it is to remember to walk with him in his way, the way of humility, kindness, unity, and oneness.
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