“The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.” -John Stuart Mill

I have been trying to think about what to write since I heard the news of John Dehlin’s disciplinary council. I’ve stayed silent mostly because I honestly don’t know what to say anymore.

I have known several good friends relegated in Mormon language to “Apostate.” While I find myself deeply jaded and unsurprised that such spiritually abusive and ridiculously archaic “Courts of Love” still happen in this century, it still hurts me to hear about friends being punished and I want to be as far away from it as possible. I just want it to stop. But it won’t stop. Courts like this continue to humiliate and ostracize members and I have run out of words to find meaning in them. They are indefensible and we should stop trying to excuse them.

So instead, I am going to tell you a Mormon story:

George Hicks is a pioneer we can all be proud of.

His story checks all the boxes for legendary pioneer status: He spent time in Nauvoo with the prophet Joseph, struggled and suffered in migration to Utah in the early 1850’s, proved his frontier grit in the Walker War, served in the Southern Utah Cotton mission, and felt a rugged determination to help build the Kingdom of God.

George Hicks wanted to raise his family in Zion’s Deseret, but early on noticed things that troubled him. The handcart disaster “revolutionized” his mind after he witnessed Brigham Young’s faulty leadership choices rob many of their lives. The fruit of divine and prophetic leadership by fallible men contained seeds of doubt that gradually sprouted around him. But in spite of his trials and through his hardships, George remained committed to his faith and to his people.

From Kingdom in the West: “In 1861 George and [his wife] Betsy, with their four young children, moved four miles south to Pond Town (today’s Salem). There they hoped to receive a “recommend” from the bishop, Betsy’s father, so that they might receive their endowments and be sealed in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City. George had angered the polygamist bishop in Spanish Fork, Albert King Thurber. During the Reformation, George’s sister, thirteen-year-old Caroline, had been pressured into marrying Thurber. George with a friend stopped the marriage from being consummated and then helped her obtain a divorce. Naturally, Hicks was convinced Thurber would deny him a recommend. But before asking Betsy’s father for one, George and Betsy, along with her parents and other siblings, were called in the fall of 1862 to the Cotton Mission in southern Utah. At the October 1861 church conference, President Young determined to make Zion self-sufficient, designated some three hundred families to move to southern Utah to grow cotton.”

Hicks and his family went south faithfully, but the mission ultimately would prove to be a disaster. Failed revelations like those of Apostle Erastus Snow, who promised good crops and bountiful trade, left the Saints in the Cotton Mission starving to death and stripped them of whatever material wealth they had once had.

In a song, “Once I Lived in Cottonwood” (which would later become a popular ballad still sung today), Hicks lamented:

“I feel so weak and hungry now, there’s nothing here to cheer Except prophetic sermons which we very often hear. They will hand them out by dozens and prove them by the book- I’d rather have some roasting ears to stay at home and cook.”

While in Southern Utah Hicks would be in close contact with John D. Lee, the man eventually prosecuted and executed for his leadership role in the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Horrified by the rumors that his Mormon neighbors slaughtered 100-140 innocent “Gentiles,” including men, women, and many children, Hicks wondered why Lee, one of the main instigators of the atrocity, was still a prominent leader in the branch of the church, preaching and controlling the area.

Hicks had heard a ballad government soldiers had written about the massacre and Hicks began singing it so much that the local youth learned it and it became a popular ditty in southern Utah (and beyond). Hicks also publicly quoted passages from the Doctrine and Covenants that condemned killing and encouraged the faithful to obey the laws of the land. His public criticism of the events was soon noticed by church leadership. Hicks began receiving warnings from local Mormon hierarchy to refrain from singing about, discussing, or criticizing Lee, or face spiritual punishment. Naturally, those interested in maintaining the status quo tried to vilify Hicks and undermine him with rumors and accusations. Hicks would not be deterred, believing God and justice were on his side. He went so far as to complain to Brigham Young, writing his concerns in a letter. 18 days after his letter was sent, the prophet replied to Hicks. Brigham Young dismissed Hicks’ criticism as guilt and accused Hicks of participating in the massacre. Young wrote,

“If this is correct, one can readily imagine why ‘it rests upon your mind,’ and ‘why you cannot sleep at nights’; the surprise would be that you could. In such a case, if you want a remedy– rope round the neck taken with a jerk would be very salutary.”

Of all the letters Brigham Young would pen, this one ranks among the cruelest. Although his beloved leader shamed him for following his conscience (and flippantly instructed him to kill himself if he was troubled), Hicks struggled to retain his faith. After seeing Lee spend time in the company of Young long after the massacre AND the ceremonial excommunication of Lee, Hicks began writing to the Tribune hoping to get support. He called for a new monument to be built on the spot to mark where the poor victims were slaughtered. His public criticism led to his excommunication and the Deseret News reported that at a public meeting in Cedar City on the 26th of April, 1874, “George A. Hicks, of Hamilton’s Fort, was cut off the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, for apostasy.”

Within a few years of this event, George would apologize and his church membership would be restored. Not one to learn his lesson, though, Hicks would be excommunicated again for speaking out against polygamy in 1884.

“I admire men and women who have developed the questing spirit, who are unafraid of new ideas as stepping stones to progress. We should, of course, respect the opinions of others, but we should also be unafraid to dissent – if we are informed. Thoughts and expressions compete in the marketplace of thought, and in that competition truth emerges triumphant. Only error fears freedom of expression.” – Apostle Hugh B. Brown, “A Final Testimony,” from An Abundant Life, 1999

The truth is, I could tell you a hundred more of these kind of stories, though there are likely thousands in our history.

As with Hicks, John Dehlin’s motives are questioned, speculated on, and argued about. There is conjecture and rumor about his character. As with all things Mormon, we want perfect dissent, which is to say, none at all or at least no good to come from it. The doctrine of prosperity creeps in even here, where all mistakes are tallied to be cashed in for punishment, and all benefits are carefully counted and frowned on.

From printing presses to podcasts, community shame and ecclesiastical discipline within Mormonism isn’t new. Mormon men groomed for authority from a young age are taught to expect a certain sort of unchecked government as part of their mantle. And Mormons are meant to uphold that faithfully. To be a faithful Mormon means less about what you actually believe, relying instead on how you talk about what you believe. You are rewarded when you allow authority to go publicly unquestioned and doubts are kept respectful and contained. Those who are less careful with their criticism are punished. From community gossip, exile, and spiritual shame to institutional sanction, church discipline has been used from the very beginning of Mormonism to silence those who have conscience enough to speak out against evil, to voice dissent against harm, and to question authority.

There is nothing Godly about these proceedings, there is nothing inspired about silencing and shaming criticism, and there is nothing healthy about a spiritual community that doesn’t allow open dissent to be acknowledged and explored. God is not in this practice and never has been. This isn’t about God anyway.

Instead of squandering our emotions in surprise that the church is recreating this tired, dangerous history tonight, we should register our disgust and pay attention to what “apostasy” really means. If faithfulness means to keep quiet at an institutional level about harmful things our system engenders (whether well-intentioned or not), then I hope to be an apostate. If apostasy means refusing to remain silent when doubt and harm are prevalent, then may we all strive to be so.

My heart goes out to Brother John Dehlin and to other apostates who speak out.

(Special thanks to Joe Geisner for contributing to this post)