A TROUBLING TENET

I too have met the Mormons (Mathew N. Schmalz, “Meet the Mormons,” November 9), but my experience has been a lesson in religious discrimination. It’s true that one will find the Mormons to be extremely polite and personable. But I discovered that deep down they believe that other faiths, especially Catholicism and Protestantism, belong to Satan. This tenet is in the Mormon book of Nephi. Because every Mormon swears an oath that the Book of Mormon is true, denying that teaching about other faiths could lead to excommunication.

Schmalz is correct: Latter-day Saints (LDS) cannot relate the “Light of Christ” within a person to external religious authority. But LDS leadership has painted itself into a corner. How can they claim that Mormons can disavow the “Satan statement” while being faithful to the Book of Mormon? It is easier for the LDS leadership to teach silence than address the problem.

Plenty of Catholics are willing to discuss Mormonism with Mormons, but it is not Catholics who reject LDS. It is the other way around: Mormons seek tolerance but offer none in return.

MARK A. CORCORAN
Fairview Park, Ohio

THE AUTHOR REPLIES:

Mark Corcoran’s letter raises several important issues that any substantive Catholic-Mormon encounter needs to confront. Consistently held Mormon doctrine does indeed understand established Protestant and Catholic churches as “apostate.” The Book of Mormon also draws on unmistakably anti-Catholic tropes when it mentions “a great and abominable church” founded by “Satan.” The anti-Catholicism of Mormonism has diminished substantially over time, but doctrinal differences between Mormonism and Catholicism are undeniably deep. Yet there are many LDS members who emphasize the optimism of the Mormon vision of salvation. According to Mormon belief, while Catholics cannot enter the “celestial kingdom” (heaven), those who are righteous can inherit the “terrestrial kingdom”—a place of great joy even though it lacks the glory of the celestial realm. Thankfully, my dealings with Mormon friends and colleagues have not focused on the soteriologies of our respective traditions. I also am grateful not to have been interrogated on some of the more disconcerting aspects of Catholic history.

One can certainly argue, as Corcoran does, that an apologetic stance vis-à-vis Mormonism is a religious obligation precisely because truth is at stake. But apologetics should be sensitive to context. Mormons are complex people—carpenters and scholars, social activists and truck drivers. Their views and experiences find diverse forms of expression. My intent in writing the article was to show how Mormonism has grown not only beyond the life of its prophet but also beyond common caricatures of Mormon life and culture.

MATHEW N. SCHMALZ

DIALOGUE IS POSSIBLE

As a practicing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I appreciated Mathew Schmalz’s candor and respectful observations of LDS doctrines and perspectives. His article encourages me in thinking that there are others who can appreciate the importance of gaining understanding without the typical ridicule.

Recently I began to open a dialogue with friends of other faiths. My intent is not to convert them. For years I have bemoaned the ignorant statements of others regarding the “Mormon” faith—especially the statements of those who have a public platform. In my efforts at dialogue, I hope to rid myself of equally ignorant misconceptions about other faiths.

Thank you for the genuine respect you show to those not of your faith. As I learn about Catholicism, I hope to return the favor.

JON HILL
Monticello, Minn.

RECIPE FOR DEFEAT

Kevin Mattson (“The Center Can Hold,” November 9) does not seem to realize that “principled centrism” can include punching the other fellow in the face before he drives a shiv into your ribs. The Democratic Leadership Council’s (DLC) strategy of “centrism” has been a total failure, leading to the election of a tyrant/war-criminal president, an emboldened corporate sector that detests health and social-welfare protections, and a stable of weak Democratic politicians. Mattson’s article is nothing more than a defeatist, self-flagellating, masochistic guilt trip that attempts to shift blame for the DLC mess onto people who know what it means to be a Democrat and care deeply about the direction of this country. Mattson’s advice to Democrats would lead to the inauguration of another Republican president in 2009.

JIM CALLAHAN
West Newton, Mass.

A TIRED PERCEPTION

Denis Donoghue’s “What Became of Wystan?” (October 26) repeats—and appears to endorse—those old, worn-out perceptions about Auden: that he fell apart after he “deserted” England and that he is not a great or original thinker (are poets supposed to be great thinkers?). Randall Jarrell made such charges against Auden more than sixty years ago and they have been circulating ever since. The current edition of the venerable Norton Anthology of English Literature includes essentially the same take on Auden’s work as did the edition I used as an undergraduate forty years ago. It casts Auden mainly as a poet of the 1930s who never lived up to his promise.

Donoghue also takes a swipe at Auden’s “morals.” Auden’s sexual orientation and lifestyle rankled the late Hugh Kenner (whom Donoghue quotes), and Donoghue doesn’t seem to approve either. Apparently he wishes that Auden, a Christian, had followed his penny catechism and not merely sought forgiveness but firmly resolved to amend his ways. Byron’s “morals” similarly troubled Victorian readers, distracting them from what mattered: the poetry.

In the end, Donoghue admits that he prefers the so-called early Auden—about a decade’s worth of poetry. The “later” Auden—three decade’s worth—is often disparaged even though it includes such poems as “In Praise of Limestone,” arguably one of the greatest lyrics of the century.

Donoghue also claims that if one wants to read “Spain” or the “Prologue” to On This Island (both “early” Auden), one has to consult Mendelson’s The English Auden. Not true. Both poems have been in print for thirty years in the widely available Selected Poems, which was reissued recently in an expanded edition—at about the same time as the Modern Library edition that Donoghue reviews.

MICHAEL HENNESSY
San Marcos, Tex.

THE FACE OF GOD

Timothy Shriver’s “Silent Eugenics” (November 9) makes many excellent points. “Accepting unconditionally the full dignity of every human being,” however, can also involve a subtle condescension. We need to remain humble.

For the past nine years, I have taught religion to children with Down syndrome, autism, and other mental disabilities. I have found that mostly we are trying to get them to measure up to the norm, to function as “fully” as possible. But I think this attitude betrays a misunderstanding. By this so-called norm, these children are always inadequate. Invariably we miss their giftedness. It is not easy working with these children, but over time I have come to regard them with a kind of awe—as though I have traveled to the dark side of the moon and found myself looking into the face of God.

LYN BURR BRIGNOLI
Greenwich, Conn.

THE QUESTION OF POWER

Richard Gaillardetz’s “Between Reform & Rupture” (October 12) made a valuable contribution in analyzing Pope Benedict XVI’s views on Vatican II. While I can’t ask that Gaillardetz cover everything, he left out something important: the relationship between Benedict’s positions on preventing substantive change in church teaching and preserving hierarchical power. This doesn’t mean that the pope is power-hungry. Nor is using the notion of continuity to preserve power only a Catholic thing. Philosophers like Michel Foucault have written extensively about this phenomenon in human institutions. But church leaders tend to downplay the issue because it doesn’t look good in the public forum. It’s easier to reduce the question of rupture and reform to the cleaner realm of meta-concepts. Yet the question of power—as coercive or enabling—is at the heart of Jesus’ teaching.

EUGENE BIANCHI
Atlanta, Ga.