Is Mormonism a Cult Or What?

A few months ago Franklin Graham found himself in all sort of evangelical hot water when he removed a page from the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association’s website that had labeled Mormonism as a cult. The timing of the removal—a few weeks before the presidential election and a few minutes after Billy Graham gave his presidential imprimatur to Romney—made any nuanced reasoning behind the Graham’s move impossible.

They compounded their problems when their defense of the action was “God has not called us to call other people names”—a defense which is about as thoughtful and persuasive as saying “Mormons really are nice people after all.” As Dan Phillips over at Pyromanics pointed out, how can you possibly argue with someone when they say that God has not called them to do what you think they should be doing? Doesn’t that mean you are arguing with God? Who, exactly, do you think you are?

But there remains an obvious question that bears exploring: Is Mormonism a cult? I want to put forward a nuanced answer: it depends on what you mean by Mormons, and it depends on what you mean by cult.

First the cult part:

I read dozens of blogs skewering the Grahams for their defrocking Mormonism of its cult status, but I don’t remember seeing anyone lay out what exactly it means to be a cult. Certainly there are several definitions of cult. What are they, and how does one qualify?

In Walter Martin’s classic The Kingdom of the Cults, he borrows a definition form a book published in 1955 which defines cult as “any religious group which differs significantly in one or more respects as to belief or practice from those religious groups which are regarded as the normative expressions of religion in our total culture.”

But that definition is obviously inadequate. First, it hinges on the word significantly. Second, it is way too broad. It basically defines any group which has as a different “practice” than the “normative expressions of religion in the total culture.” What does “total culture” mean in an era of immigration and satellite TV? I’m sure that was a suitable concept in the 1950’s, but I don’t see how it works today. By that definition, Hinduism could be a cult in Florida, but not in Michigan, and certainly not in India. Meanwhile, Christianity itself would be considered a cult Nepal or Rome.

Martin was aware of that weakness of the definition, and so he added his own criteria: “A group of people gathered about a specific person’s misinterpretation of the Bible.” So for Martin a cult is a religious group that:
has significant differences in practices from normative expressions of religion in “total culture” is built around a specific misinterpretation of the Bible

But that definition also fails on some pretty basic levels. Do two Baptist churches that disagree on dispensationalism get to label each other as cults? It also fails because it definescult specifically in relation to Christianity. What about Islam? Certainly there are cults in Islam—most Muslims consider The Nation of Islam a cult, for example. Yet that is not possible with Martin’s definition. [Note: Martin does not seem to follow his own definition very carefully. He considers both the Baha’i movement an d Buddhism cults, even though they don’t seem built around a specific misinterpretation of the Bible.]

So are there any better definitions of cult?

The dictionary defines cult as “any particular system of religious worship” (Webster’s Dictionary). This is why when reading OT commentaries (or NT Wright…) there are constant references to the OT temple worship as “cultic.” It doesn’t mean that it was a false religion, but simply means that it was “religious.” Obviously the dictionary definition of the word is so broad that it is not really helpful. After all, by that definition every religion is a cult.

There is a better definition of cult. Many sociology books describe a cult as being a religious group that has the following distinctions:

• Built around a charismatic leader (or his successor) who is generally infallible
• A break off of another religion, and claims that it is correct while the group they left is apostate.
• Considered on the fringe of society, and outside of social norms (often aided by a sense of secrecy to the inner workings of the religion).

This definition is repeated in many sociology text books, and is quite helpful. For example, you can see how Catholicism would fit the first two, but not the third, and thus is rightly not considered a cult. Meanwhile, it is narrow enough that it does not include all false religions, while being broad enough that it can also include groups like the Nation of Islam or Baha’i.

So that moves to the category of Mormonism. Does Mormonism fit these distinctives? They are built around a charismatic leader and their prophet is considered infallible (he has direct revelation from God, of course). It is obviously an apostate form of Christianity, so check there as well.

But are they considered on the fringe of society? That leads to the second question:
What do you mean by Mormon?:

Mormons essentially fall into two categories. Latter-day Saints (LDS), and Fundamentalist LDS. For the LDS, their temples are tourist attractions, Bryce Harper is a baseball phenom, Romney ran for President without his Mormonism being as big of a deal as Kennedy’s Catholicism, and Senate Majority Leader is a LDS (to say nothing about the fact that college students idolize American Idol David Archuleta). Every year, it is becoming tougher and tougher to argue that the church of LDS is on the fringe of society.

But the FLDS is another story all together. They are the fringe groups of Mormons in Texas, the Utah Arizona boarder, and parts of Canada. They practice polygamy, have their own prophets, are break-offs from the the church of LDS , and have been anathematized by the LDS. This group seems to fit every definition of cult, and even the LDS regard them as a cult.

So when people ask me “is Mormonism a cult?” I answer with two questions: “It depends on what you mean by Mormons. If by Mormons you mean the polygamists in the hills living in isolation, then yes. If by Mormons you mean LDS, then it depends on what you mean by cult.”

The dictionary definition calls Mormonism a cult, right along with every other religion in the world. Sociological definitions, along with Martin’s own definition, all hinge on if Mormonism is considered outside the norm of our culture. It is certainly a grey area. After all, it ,would be very difficult to say in Salt Lake City or Provo that Mormonism differs from the “normative expression of religion” (Martin’s definition) in that community. When you add the concept that Martin uses of “total culture” then certainly you have to consider politics (Mitt Romney, Henry Reid), music (David Archuleta), and sports (Bryce Harper). When you consider those categories, it becomes harder and harder to be dogmatic on the word cult. Even if it is one today, how many more years does that label stick? How many stars do there need to be before something is no longer on the fringe of the culture?

What is clear is that Mormonism, whether LDS or FLDS, is a false religion. It teaches a false way to God, and leads to eternal judgment. It is built on lies, and spreads through propaganda. And the only way for Mormons to be saved is to repent from their false religion, and find refuge in the gospel of Jesus Christ. That is what God has called the Grahams to preach, and who knows? Maybe that is exactly what they said to Romney before they took their webpage down.

Regardless, it is essential for Christians if they understand the uniqueness of the gospel and how to invite those who don’t know it to believe it—whether or not they are part of a cult. The real battle is over the gospel, not over a sociological category about whose religion is more influential in the culture.

Quote of the Day

“The Pharisees’ problem was not that they were too concerned with orthodox teaching, but that they had invented their own orthodoxy. Jesus condemned them for replacing and modifying the clear truth of Scripture with their own traditions (Matthew 15:1-9). They were the chief theological miscreants of their day.

So how did Jesus treat them? Did He show them love — i.e., did He obey the Second Great Commandment in His dealings with them? Of course.

What did that love entail? First and foremost, Jesus declared the truth to them. He also frequently delivered public rebukes for the errors that threatened to damn them. He castigated them. He occasionally held them up to public ridicule. He obviously valued their souls more than their feelings. That is what authentic love looks like. In other words, Christ, not Rodney King, is the paragon of perfect love.

The vast majority of Pharisees didn’t heed Jesus’ warnings, of course. The smug or snide ones might have even claimed it was because He didn’t “have a relationship based upon love.” It was nonetheless the right thing for Him to correct their false teaching and warn others of the danger posed by their error.”

– Phil Johnson

Subjective Impressions, ESP, and Reverse Deja Vu

From Phil Johnson at Pyromaniacs:

Everyone has unexplained thoughts that seem to leap from nowhere into the mind. (Note: When I say "everyone," I mean believers and unbelievers alike; I don't necessarily mean "every single individual." I've met a few less-than-completely sentient people who seem incapable of any original thought whatsoever. They prolly never get spontaneous notions of anything. Let's leave those folks out of this discussion.)


Most people likewise have a sense of intuition, where at times you just feel like you know a thing is true and you can't give an account for how you arrived at that knowledge rationally. It may even seem like you have ESP, or ESPN2, or whatever. It's a lot like deja vu, only backwards. I happen to think that sense of intuition is probably more rational than we can explain. In any case, I'm quite sure it's not really a supernatural spiritual gift from God, because it has such a poor track record. Besides, I had the same intuitive abilities before I was converted as I have now.

My sense of intuition is sort of like a stopped clock that was designed to measure time in months instead of hours. Once or twice a year (on average) it's right. And when it's right, it can seem quite impressive. I've had some moments of intuition that I could have parlayed into a fortune, if I were the type of charlatan who is willing to claim he has a prophetic gift even when he knows he really doesn't. I certainly have no such gift. For the most part, my intuition is grossly fallible and ordinarily wrong. I don't trust it at all, even though my experience is probably a lot like yours: there are times when I feel compelled to follow my intuition.

To be clear: I usually "feel compelled to follow" my intuition only when I don't have a better rational or sensible idea of what to do. Maturity has taught me to hold off on trusting intuition and try to understand facts and reasons and the potential results of my actions before I act. In fact, I'd say that's what maturity is all about, to a very large degree.

But, how do we understand that inner sense, especially when God seems to use it to prompt us to pray, or witness, or duck and run at precisely the right moment? Because let's be honest, here: that kind of thing does happen to most of us from time to time.

As I said in a comment-thread [once upon a time] (see below), we need to regard those occasions as remarkable Providences, not inspired prophecy. God might use a spontaneous thought in my head providentially. In fact, as a Calvinist, I don't hesitate to say that He ultimately controls and uses everything providentially. But that's as true of my sins as it is of the thoughts in my head. God can use them all for His own purposes. The fact that He uses an idea in my mind to achieve some good purpose doesn't make the idea itself inspired.

That's the point we are trying to make in all these various threads about prophecy and cessationism. It's an important point. We're not trying to step on the charismatic air-hose just because it's fun.

So please give these things some serious thought before you react this time.

Four lessons:
1. If intuition is fallible (and everyone except the out-and-out-charlatan seems to agree that it is), it cannot be considered "revelation," even when it happens to be uncannily right in an instance or two.

2. Since intuition is so fallible—and most would agree that it is actually far more often wrong than right—we shouldn't make much of it.

3. Those who think those moments of intuition are God speaking with a private message invariably become extremely superstitious; they foolishly order their lives by their feelings; they commit the sin of trusting too much in their own hearts; and they diminish the more sure Word of prophecy. No one who knows church history, and no one who truly understands the concept of spiritual maturity can deny that Christians who follow the voice in their heads fall into those errors all the time, and it can be (and often is) spiritually disastrous.

4. Since our intuitive sense is so grossly fallible, and since every sane, biblical Christian would acknowledge that it's dangerous to pay much attention to it, we should not try to elevate it to the level of a supernatural "spiritual gift." It most certainly does not resemble any of the spiritual gifts—much less the gift of "prophecy"— as we see those gifts functioning in the New Testament.

Here's that comment I made in the meta [once upon a time]:

I'm tied up with meetings today and unable to participate in the blog-discussion, but a couple of people have e-mailed me privately with the same question about this thread. One begged me for an answer; the other accused me of dodging the question.

So here's the question and my short answer:

Q: If God doesn't speak to you directly, how does he "lead" you to do anything? How, for example, did you know Darlene was the right person to marry?; how did you know you were called to ministry?; and how do you explain it when a thought pops into your head and prompts you to pray for someone?

Short answer: I trust the providence of God. I can't necessarily interpret the providence of God infallibly, though.

So if (for example) I suddenly think to pray for the safety or holiness of one of my children, I don't need to interpret that as a prophetic message from God that Pecadillo or one of his brothers is in immediate danger. But I pray for them nonetheless, though I can't possibly understand why that thought popped into my head or even discern correctly whether it originated in my own imagination or was immediately infused into my brain by the Holy Spirit.

If it turns out later that I prayed at exactly the right moment when some specific danger befell one of my kids, I praise God for a remarkable providence.

I DON'T, however, twist it into some kind of quasi-revelation and use it as an excuse to trust my own heart. Scripture says those who do that are fools (Proverbs 28:26).

Here's the thing: I trust Providence enough to believe that God ordained that I should pray, and He will answer my prayer for His glory and my good, even if the thought that prompted the prayer was out of my own imagination.

But it would be a sin for me to claim God "told" me to pray about that particular thing at that particular time when He did no such thing.

Providence, people. Go and learn what that means, and we can avoid having this debate every 6 weeks or so.

Here's a book, written by a good friend of mine, that deals with this issue well.

The Pharisee's Problem

“The Pharisees’ problem was not that they were too concerned with orthodox teaching, but that they had invented their own orthodoxy. Jesus condemned them for replacing and modifying the clear truth of Scripture with their own traditions (Matthew 15:1-9). They were the chief theological miscreants of their day.

So how did Jesus treat them? Did He show them love—i.e., did He obey the Second Great Commandment in His dealings with them? Of course.

What did that love entail? First and foremost, Jesus declared the truth to them. He also frequently delivered public rebukes for the errors that threatened to damn them. He castigated them. He occasionally held them up to public ridicule. He obviously valued their souls more than their feelings. That is what authentic love looks like. In other words, Christ, not Rodney King, is the paragon of perfect love.

The vast majority of Pharisees didn’t heed Jesus’ warnings, of course. The smug or snide ones might have even claimed it was because He didn’t “have a relationship based upon love.” It was nonetheless the right thing for Him to correct their false teaching and warn others of the danger posed by their error.”

- Phil Johnson

Word of Faith

In 1 Timothy 6:6-11, the apostle Paul writes:

Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content. But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.
But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness.

Paul's own testimony gives us a vivid picture of true faithfulness and blessedness: "I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need" (Philippians 4:11-12).

Clearly, contentment is a great virtue, especially in times of suffering and poverty. In fact, this is the consistent teaching of Scripture from beginning to end: God's blessing is not measurable by a person's material prosperity. True biblical prosperity is about spiritual health, joy in the Lord, rewards in heaven, and grace in the midst of earthly sufferings. True prosperity has nothing whatsoever to do with material wealth or an abundance of worldly riches. In fact, those things are often hindrances to spiritual blessings.

The wicked often prosper materially, while truly godly people suffer. "Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (2 Timothy 3:12-13). Christ himself suffered, "leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps" (1 Peter 2:21).

All of that flatly contradicts the message of the Prosperity Gospel—the so-called "Word of Faith" movement. Word-of-Faith teachers insist that worldly wealth, physical health, and material prosperity are the ultimate gauge of how blessed you are by God.

Furthermore, they say, you yourself are the one who ultimately determines how much or how little of God's blessings you enjoy. You can manipulate God with your words. You have it within the power of your own heart to summon enough faith to claim whatever blessing you want. And if you are not materially prosperous; if you are sick; if you suffer in any way, you are the one to blame because you didn't have enough "faith" in your own ability to create a new reality by making a positive confession. You didn't claim your own dream by faith.

That is a lie from the pit of hell. In John MacArthur's words, the prosperity gospel "is no different from the lowest human religions—a form of voodoo where God can be coerced, cajoled, manipulated, controlled, and exploited for the Christian's own ends." It is rooted in greed. It glorifies the sinner at the expense of Christ. It fosters unbelief and spiritual defeat rather than genuine trust in God and triumph in Christ. It makes faith into a formula for manipulating God, rather than a humble, repentant trust in him.

In fact, Word-of-Faith doctrine flatly contradicts everything Scripture says about faith and the promises of God; about suffering and prosperity; about contentment and covetousness; about the work of Christ and the depravity of fallen humanity. It is the religion of mammon-worship; it is not the way of the cross. In short, it is a false gospel—meaning it is no gospel at all. It is a damning and damnable lie, and those who follow such a false and materialistic religion are on the broad road that leads to destruction.

Self Examination and Resolutions

While some may scoff at a New Year’s Resolutions, I embrace them. The scriptures are filled with various challenges to examine ourselves, and to see where we fall short God’s standards. Introspection is a healthy part of our relationship with the Lord.

Before a believer takes communion, he is to “examine himself” (1 Corinthians 11:28). Paul, in a rebuke to the Corinthians, told them to “examine yourselves” (2 Corinthians 13:5). Colossians 3 presents a pattern of putting off sin and putting on conduct becoming of those who love the Messiah. And in Colossians 3, Paul culminates his description of sanctification with this charge: “whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Colossians 3:17).

Normative Christian living contains self-examination. There is a morbid introspection that goes too far; we all know those who are Christian Eeyores, moping about, striving to uncover any hidden motive behind every action. That sort of spiritual depression is not what I am talking about. But there is a healthy self-examination that should be part of the Christian life. Self-assessment can be extremely beneficial in our quest for godliness.

And if we are honest, it is often difficult to gauge our spiritual health on a daily basis. The urgency of life clamors, and daily demands can drown out solitude and prayer. That is one of the benefits of self-examination at communion; there is a certain ceremonial stillness that forces us to ask “how have I lived this week? This month?”

For that reason, I find that an annual spiritual inventory more helpful than daily spiritual contemplation. I ask myself, “How am I doing this year? What have I read this year in the Bible? How did I lead my wife this year? What was my prayer life like? What sins have I battled this year? Am I putting to death the deeds of the flesh, or is sin winning the battle?”

This kind of annual approach avoids the normal ups and downs common in this fallen world. Excuses are muted by the wide angel lens of looking over the past twelve months. Failures are more obvious, and scapegoats more scarce.

The prophet Haggai confronted Israel when they were in the middle of a 14-year spiritual skid. The demands of daily post-exilic life had stifled the initial excitement of temple building. Israel, over a decade after their return to the land, had imported a Persian consumerist mindset, and they cultivated materialism reminiscent of America.

Haggai stepped into this world of paneled houses and lined pockets, and demanded something of the people. Four times in the tiny book of Haggai, the prophet implores the Israelites to “consider” their ways. They were to look at how they were living, look at the abandoned scaffolding of the temple, and to ask themselves “how am I living? Is God pleased?”

They were not merely to consider the past, but Haggai pointed them forward. He told them “Consider carefully from this day forward…” and he told them about the future. In light of God’s promises, how were they supposed to live?

My personal application of Haggai’s sermons is to look at the last year of my life, and ask if I am going in the right direction. What can change, how can it change, and who can help me? If I see areas of success and triumph in Christ, I mark them in my heart with mental Ebenezers. Where there are failures, I repent, and pray for grace to do better this year. And where there are possibilities, I make goals and I plan in my heart how to make the most of where God has led me over the past year.

How about you? What do you do for New Year’s resolutions? Do you make them, or mock them?

Thanksgiving

Since 1863, on the fourth Thursday of November, families and friends in the United States have gathered to commemorate an old tradition linked back to the early European settlers.

You know the story: The pilgrims and Native Americans came together for a happy feast to celebrate the harvest and forge new friendships. A few hundred years later, this event became a legislated holiday and got Norman Rockwelled into the fabric of American life. We call it Thanksgiving.

The Aim of Paul's Ministry

It's interesting that we name a national holiday after an emotion — a very good emotion. In fact, an emotion for which the apostle Paul aimed his ministry. He tells it like this in 2 Corinthians 4:15:

It is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.

"It is all for your sake." What's he talking about? In short, "it" refers to Paul's gospel proclamation along with its accompanying ethos of suffering and persevering faith (2 Corinthians 4:13–14). Or, said a little longer, "it" refers to Paul's gospel proclamation flowing from an ethos in continuity with the Old Testament writer of Psalm 116 — an ethos that perseveres in the midst of affliction by faith in the resurrection.

This is Paul's character. This is how he does it: afflicted, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed (2 Corinthians 4:8–9). He went about as a missionary, taking the gospel from one city to the next, carrying in his body the death of Jesus, looking to the eternal weight of glory. And he did it for our sake.

He did it for our sake so that as the gospel continues to advance among all peoples, it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God. As grace extends to more and more people, it makes more and more people grateful. And this whole act of extending grace and responding in gratitude glorifies God.

Specific Gratitude

And it's a particular kind of gratitude. There is nothing generic about it. It is thanksgiving for the death and resurrection of Jesus, the Son of God incarnate, who came to save his people from their sins. This is the kind of thanksgiving that the apostle is aiming for. The kind that no holiday can manufacture.

While we do have some writings from the early pilgrims, we don't really know the full details of the "thankfulness" present when the original attendees huddled around that now-famous meal. Were their hearts inclined to God in some vague sense? Did they call him Providence or Jesus? Were they just glad to have some food? We don't know, and for our purposes it doesn't really matter.

But what does matter is how we will huddle around our meal tomorrow.

More Than Food and Football

Here's a plea that we look along the beams of delicious turkey and good football to see Jesus, crucified for us, dead and buried for us, raised for us on the third day. For his grace has been extended to us. We've heard the good news. Paul (or one of the apostles) told someone who told someone who told someone. And eventually one of these "someones" told us. This grace has extended to "more and more people." It has extended to you and me.

So in the midst of our many thanksgivings, may we be mainly thankful for that — for Jesus and all that he is for us. And in so doing, may we fulfill Paul's goal, the increase of thanksgiving, to the glory of God.

HT: Desiring God