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

He felt some hesitation voting for Republican candidate Donald Trump in 2016, but it wasn’t until 2020 that he found himself, for various reasons, breaking not only with the party leader, but with the party itself. She didn’t leave quietly either.

“This was the first time I decided to get involved on Facebook about political issues,” said Reynolds, who lives in Minnesota but at the time was living in Highland, Utah, laughing wryly. “Wow, I never went back to that again.”

Most painful was the criticism he received from other members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, particularly from a well-respected man in his congregation whom he knew well.

“Our children had been guardians of their children,” he said. “We were friends and neighbors. “He had accompanied his children to musical numbers (in the church).”

But none of that seemed to matter after her Facebook post arguing the need to keep abortion safe and legal to allow for exceptions allowed by the churcheven in cases of rape and incest.

“He came at me (in the comments) and then had other members of the ward come at me, calling me the Antichrist,” he said. “…I was very surprised because these are people I knew and loved in person.”

Church leaders seem to have taken note of this kind of tension within their ranks. Statements and speeches from senior leaders 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 up to one of the closest and most contentious presidential elections in American history is whether these noble goals have lodged themselves in the hearts and minds of the people sitting in the pews.

What church leaders say

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

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

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

“As we apply our preferred policies in public actions, let us qualify for their blessings using the language and methods of peacemakers,” urged the next man in line to lead the global 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 thinks these messages are “surprising.” Like Reynolds, the 47-year-old Arizonan grew up Republican and cast her first and last vote for Trump in 2016.

Among the experiences that changed his view of politics was his election to the City Council in 2020.

Until that point, Spilsbury had lived in a “super-LDS, super-conservative little Mesa bubble” that adhered to the belief that “Democrats were evil.” Then he won a seat on the council and suddenly found himself working with people of all political stripes, all of whom “cared deeply about their families and their communities.”

She said, “It opened my eyes.”

This presidential election, he has been part of a Republican (and specifically Latter-day Saint Republican) movement in Arizona hoping to help push the state toward Democratic candidate Kamala Harris.

It hasn’t been easy. Just the other day, Spilsbury said, she received a message from a member of her church accusing her of “breaking the hearts of (my) pioneer ancestors.” When a council member posted a photo on Facebook of Spilsbury holding a “Republicans for Harris” sign, the comments, all from fellow Latter-day Saints, were so negative that the author removed the image and sent him a text message. to Spilsbury to apologize.

“If you see the other side as evil, then it is a fight for God,” he said. “It’s a fight for light over darkness.”

In this context, Spilsbury breaking ranks is the “divisive one” (something you hear all the time), regardless of how she presents her positions, and any attack, no matter how personal, is considered justified. It seems to Spilsbury that this is how those who labeled her a “whore” and told her “I hope you burn in hell” see it.

Defining civility

Still, it would be inaccurate to describe all Latter-day Saints who support Trump as (typically) online fighters.

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

“I feel like walking the streets,” said the 51-year-old Mesa Latter-day Saint, “with a sign that said don’t vote for Harris.”

And yet, Mason said, she and her friend can have positive exchanges on the topic.

He has studied the words of Nelson and Oaks and has many ideas about why their interactions have remained respectful. On the one hand, she said that both she and Spilsbury make an effort not to control each other’s vote or thoughts. That’s complicated, the Trump supporter acknowledged, when you believe the other person’s vote has the potential to “be destructive to your life.” But when fear grows inside her, she reminds herself to “trust that the Lord has everything under control.”

“Civility is not seeing others as if they are all cast in one mold,” Mason observed, “or demonizing (the other side) in our minds, thinking ‘Well, that’s because everyone hates America.’”

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

Like Reynolds and Spilsbury, the Latter-day Saint, 44, experienced a huge backlash after openly expressing her opposition to Trump in recent years.

“People get angry more easily than I would have expected,” the Dayton, Nevada, resident said, citing a feeling of “betrayal” as at least part of the cause. More than once, text messages and calls have left her “in tears.” Among other things, he has received comments questioning, in one way or another, whether “I have lost my sense of spiritual direction, which is painful.”

The experience, Brunjes said, has only reinforced his belief that civility comes from following a fundamental teaching of Christianity: loving your neighbor.

“I’ve never been told to judge my neighbor,” he said. “I have only been told to love them and try to understand them, to be a peacemaker and avoid discord.”

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

“If I respond to someone with any kind of negative feeling, whether it’s anger or irritation,” he said, “that’s going to create discord.”

What is not civility?

One concern Mason raised regarding church leaders’ recent emphasis on avoiding nasty political fights is its potential to have a chilling effect on solid compromise among Latter-day Saints on flammable issues.

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

“It’s not polite to me to be back in your echo chamber and in your corner with two like-minded people,” he said, “talking about each other in private and not interacting.”

Spilsbury also raised this concern, drawing a contrast between being a peacemaker (someone who chooses silence in the hope of avoiding discord) and a peacemaker. The latter, he argued, often requires “speaking out” about the injustices one sees, but doing so with respect and love.

Signs of progress

Spilsbury remains optimistic. Even amid the scorched earth that is social media, she believes she has begun to see some green shoots of civility.

She points to a couple of her husband’s Facebook posts related to the upcoming election. Together, he said, the couple braced themselves for impact. But this time the response was different.

“It has created quite a bit of resistance,” he acknowledged. “But for the most part, the comments have been very respectful. …We are a little stunned.”

There’s no way to prove that the change is due to comments from church leaders, but the timing of it (the posts appeared shortly after the last General Conference) has left her thinking that “maybe people are trying harder.”

Reynolds draws an even more direct and bold line between the church leaders’ comments and the resolution he finally found with the Latter-day Saint man who made the hurtful comments on Facebook.

He still carried a deep wound from the experience when, a few years later, he heard Nelson’s moving call for followers of the faith to be peacemakers.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, “but within five minutes of finishing, I got a text from that same man apologizing. And I know it’s because I had just heard that same speech.”

She said she forgave him “immediately.”

More recently, he asked followers of his liberal-leaning Instagram account to respond to the following statement: “I have noticed a general improvement since (the last) General Conference” regarding how fellow Latter-day Saints handle political differences.

Of the approximately 150 who responded, a handful (6% total) said yes.

Bit. But maybe, just maybe, it’s a start.