For most of her life, Allyson Reynolds was a “Republican by default.” It was simply the world she grew up in, said the 53-year-old Latter-day Saint.

She felt some hesitation about voting for Republican candidate Donald Trump in 2016, but it wasn’t until 2020 that she found herself – for various reasons – at odds not only with the party leader, but with the party itself. She didn’t go quietly either.

“That was the first time I decided to engage on Facebook on political issues,” Reynolds, who lives in Minnesota but was living in Highland, Utah, at the time, said with a laugh ironically. “Wow, I never went back there again.”

Most painful was the criticism she received from fellow members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, particularly from a well-respected man in her congregation whom she knew well.

“Our children had tutored his children,” she said. “We were friends and neighbors. I accompanied his children for musical numbers (at church).

But none of that seemed to matter after her Facebook post asserting the need to keep abortion safe and legal in order to allow abortion. exceptions authorized by the churchincluding in cases of rape and incest.

“He addressed me (in the comments) and then he asked other members of the ward to come at me, calling me the Antichrist,” she said. “…I was so shocked because these were people I knew and loved in person.”

Church leaders appear to have noticed these kinds of tensions within the ranks. Statements and speeches from top brass around the world have repeatedly returned to the need for civility and reminded members that “principles consistent with the Gospel can be found in various political parties.”

The question leading into one of the closest and most contentious presidential elections in U.S. history is whether these lofty goals have become ingrained in the hearts and minds of those on the benches.

What Church leaders are saying

In a speech delivered at the 2023 World General Conference, Church President Russell M. Nelson lamented the loss of “civility and decency” in an age of “polarization and passionate disagreement.” He called on listeners to resist the temptation to “vilify” those who disagree with them and to seek to be peacemakers.

That same year, he and his counselors in the First Presidency ruled the faith warned that direct voting or again, votes based on “tradition,” in the absence of in-depth study of a candidate, represented “a threat to democracy.”

And, in October 2024 General Conference SermonSenior Apostle Dallin H. Oaks reiterated Nelson’s call to avoid polarizing rhetoric.

“As we pursue our preferred policies in public actions, let us enjoy his blessings using the language and methods of peacemakers,” urged the next man to lead the world faith. “In our families and other personal relationships, let us avoid what is harsh and hateful. »

A fight between good and evil

Julie Spilsbury of Mesa calls these messages “incredible.” Like Reynolds, the 47-year-old Arizonan grew up Republican and voted for Trump for her first and last votes in 2016.

Among the experiences that changed his outlook on politics was his election to the city council in 2020.

Until then, Spilsbury had lived in a “little super LDS, super conservative Mesa bubble” that believed “Democrats were bad.” Then she won a seat on the council and suddenly found herself working with individuals of all political stripes – all of whom cared deeply about their families and their communities.

She said: “It opened my eyes. »

During this presidential election, she was part of a Republican – and specifically Latter-day Saint – movement in Arizona, hoping to help swing the state in favor of Democratic candidate Kamala Harris.

It wasn’t easy. The other day, Spilsbury said, she received a message from a fellow church member accusing her of “breaking the hearts of (my) pioneer ancestors.” When a fellow council member posted a photo on Facebook of Spilsbury holding a “Republicans for Harris” sign, the comments – all from other Latter-day Saints – were so negative that the poster removed the image and texted Spilsbury apologizing.

“It comes down to the fact that if you view the other side as evil, then it’s a fight for God,” she said. “It’s a fight for light against darkness.”

In this context, Spilsbury, by breaking ranks, is the one who “divides” (which she hears all the time), regardless of how she presents her positions, and any attack, no matter how personal, is considered justified. This seems to Spilsbury to be the way those who called her a “slut” and said “I hope you burn in hell” see things.

Defining civility

Even so, it would be inaccurate to describe all Latter-day Saints who support Trump as (usually) online brawlers.

Anna Jo Mason couldn’t disagree more with Spilsbury’s support for the Democratic vice president.

“I want to walk the streets,” said the 51-year-old Latter-day Saint from Mesa, “with a sign saying don’t vote for Harris.”

And yet, Mason says, she and her friend manage to have positive discussions on the subject.

She’s studied Nelson and Oaks’ words and has many thoughts on why their interactions remained respectful. On the one hand, she said she and Spilsbury make an effort not to control each other’s votes or thoughts. It’s tricky, the Trump supporter acknowledged, when we think the other person’s vote has the potential to “be destructive to our lives.” But when fear grows within her, she reminds herself to “trust the Lord who is in control.”

“Civilism is not about looking at others as all being cast in one mold,” Mason observed, “or demonizing (the other side) in our minds, thinking, ‘Well, that’s because They all hate America.”

Amber Brunjes has also given a lot of thought to the question of how to define civility.

Like Reynolds and Spilsbury, the 44-year-old Latter-day Saint has experienced widespread backlash after being outspoken about her opposition to Trump in recent years.

“People get angry more easily than I would have imagined,” said a Dayton, Nevada, resident, citing a sense of “betrayal” as at least partly to blame. More than once, text messages and calls left her “in tears.” She notably received comments wondering, somehow, if “I’ve lost my sense of spiritual direction, which is hurtful.”

This experience, Brunjes said, only strengthened his belief that civility comes from respecting a fundamental teaching of Christianity: loving your neighbor.

“I was never told to judge my neighbor,” she said. “I was only told to love them and seek to understand them, to be a peacemaker and to avoid conflict.”

One trick Brunjes has learned from experience is to take a moment before responding to others, especially when what they have said is hurtful.

“If I respond to someone with a negative feeling, whether it’s anger or irritation,” she said, “it’s going to lead to conflict.”

What courtesy is not

One of the concerns Mason raises about the recent emphasis by Church leaders on avoiding unpleasant political conflict is its potential to have a chilling effect on robust engagement among Latter-day Saints on flammable subjects.

Reynolds, who recently launched the Instagram account @last daysdemechoed this fear.

“It’s not courteous of me to be back in your echo chamber and in your corner with two like-minded people,” she said, “talking about others privately and without s ‘engage.”

Spilsbury also raised this concern, drawing a contrast between being a peacekeeper – someone who opts for silence in the hope of avoiding conflict – and a peacemaker. The latter, she argued, often requires “speaking out” about the injustices observed, but doing so with respect and love.

Signs of progress

Spilsbury remains optimistic. Even amid the scorched earth that is social media, she thinks she’s started to see some green shoots of civility.

She highlights some posts on Facebook from her husband related to the upcoming elections. Together, she said, the couple braced themselves for impact. But the response was different this time.

“This created a lot of reluctance,” she admitted. “But, for the most part, the comments have been very respectful. …We were kind of floored.

There is no way to prove that the change was due to comments from Church leaders, but the timing of it all – the messages were posted shortly after the last General Conference – led her to think that ” maybe people are trying harder.”

Reynolds draws an even more direct and bold line between the comments of Church leaders and the resolution she ultimately found with the Latter-day Saint man who made the hurtful comments on Facebook.

She still carried a deep wound from that experience when, a few years later, she heard Nelson’s moving call for believers to become peacemakers.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she said, “but less than five minutes after it was over, I got a text from that same man apologizing. And I know it’s because he had just heard the same speech.

She said she forgave him “immediately.”

Most recently, she asked followers of her liberal-leaning Instagram account to respond to the following statement: “I have noticed an overall improvement since (the last) General Conference” regarding how other Latter-day Saints handle political differences.

Of the approximately 150 people who responded, a handful – 6% in total – said yes.

Not much. But maybe, just maybe, a start.