
Are Surviving Mormonism’s stories typical? Comparative data show rare failures in an institution ahead on reform.

Why do ward choirs matter? They build unity, model male-female harmony, bridge communities, and teach belonging.

Dallin H. Oaks pairs law with love, showing humility, outreach, and a call to hold truth with tenderness.

Social justice has become a point of aching division in America, and even among Latter-day Saints—with different sides claiming Jesus’s message as justifying their own view. Could that same gospel, however, offer some ways to find vital common ground instead?

The Supreme Court’s much-anticipated decision in Bostock v Clayton County may in fact tell us more about how courts decide what law is than what law says. It may also serve as an unexpected opportunity for judicial conservatives to move away from textualism and reclaim a more inclusive jurisprudential methodology. For over four decades the legal community has been arguing about first principles for interpreting our laws. In Bostock v Clayton County, a case about LGBTQ rights that the United States Supreme Court will decide this term, the central question involves an interpretation of the federal Civil Rights Act of 1964, which famously bans discrimination based on race, religion, sex, or national origin. The case is important because it will determine whether discrimination based upon “sexual orientation” is covered by the original prohibition in the statute against discrimination on the basis of “sex.” But the case may actually be more important for the ideas used by the court in how we interpret our laws. The case presents what may well become a textbook example of the application of textualism, and its related concept, originalism, to the interpretation of a landmark statute. Thus from the standpoint of how laws are interpreted, the case is fraught with meaning and symbolism. That argument will take center stage in a highly ironic way. Judicial liberals will be arguing for textualism (typically the conservative position) and conservatives will be arguing for a much more broadly based contextual understanding (usually the liberal position). From my perspective as a judicial conservative, this is an opportunity to restore textualism to its traditional place in jurisprudence, which could also have the added benefit of reducing the tension between textualism and originalism, something that has received too little attention from conservatives. To understand the debate, some brief history is necessary. Textualism, Orginalism, and the Rise of Judicial Activism For many decades the main complaint of conservatives focused on “judicial activism”—the idea that courts are reading into the language of our laws certain policies that the framers or the legislators did not address. This is typically done by using arguments based upon fairness, equality, and broad readings of the purpose of the language in question. Doing so, conservatives, argued, was to subvert democratic decision-making and turn republican government into rule by the judiciary. This further tends to foreclose the discussion, debate, give and take, and compromise that will address all the related implications of the decision. To deal with their concerns, many judicial conservatives argued for increased reliance on two particular methods of interpretation: originalism and textualism. Textualism focuses on the literal words being interpreted, their grammatical meaning and their dictionary definition, and largely, although not entirely, ignores other considerations if the meaning of the words is thought to be clear. Originalism focuses on the meaning of the words as they were understood at the time, usually in the sense of how they would have been understood by the public. Neither method was new, but various champions of these concepts who emphasized their application (particularly when it came to constitutional questions), rose to prominence. Several of them are now on the United States Supreme Court. The late Justice Antonin Scalia was especially associated with textualism, and current Justice Gorsuch has publicly associated himself with this same approach Scalia favored. Justice Thomas is a devoted originalist; and Justice Alito is sympathetic to both originalism and textualism. On the other hand, the so-called “liberals” on the court are much more in tune with what former Justice William Brennan called “living constitutionalism.” That approach takes the position that many of the provisions of constitutions are intended to have broad and evolving meanings. They are generally in favor of giving preference to judicially developed ideas of fairness, equality, and policy considerations that they believe are appropriate for the current times and circumstances. While not rejecting the ideas of originalism or textualism out of hand, they view the usual application of those concepts as too narrow —insisting that other approaches should be given equal or more weight, depending on the circumstances. In this way, what others might argue is plain, they often find ambiguous. It’s also the case that many of the tools that they would apply are broadly accepted by judicial conservatives and liberals alike, such as looking at the structure and purpose of the law, and related statutes, as well as somewhat more controversial but commonly used methods such as legislative history, or even weighing the consequences of a decision. By contrast, originalism emphasizes the long understood idea that a written constitution by definition was constructed by its framers to have fixed meaning. Constitutions provide for a means of amendment, and that process implicitly confirms that what was not amended should be understood as unchanged. The bedrock idea is that a constitution represents the will of the people, freely adopted by both representation and ratification, and not imposed by any other means. Although statutes can be freely changed by the legislature, originalists insist they should have the meaning that they had when enacted. This straightforward concept is eroded, however, by two hundred years of change, some obvious and some, as the great historian Gibbon would have said “insensible”—happening so gradually and imperceptibly that most hardly even noticed it. Major events like the Civil War and the amendments to the Constitution that it generated, introduced broadened concepts of due process and equal protection to the constitutional text and our way of thinking about laws more generally. The massive economic growth of the country also generated different ways of thinking about commerce, and how the state regulates behavior through a huge administrative process. Together with these developments, a growing body of legal academics began to emphasize various sophisticated issues, such as the potential elasticity of some of the language of law, arguing that standards such as “cruel and unusual punishment” were intended to have an evolving meaning, not one fixed for all time unless amended. Finally, as judges and scholars have noted for over 150

How can we foster kindness and softness in our own extended families and homes these holidays? Here are some thoughts.
How does a community and the families within it respond to a nearly unspeakable accusation? How do you treat everyone with dignity? How do you suss out the truth? Do you need to? “Armand,” the Norwegian submission for The Academy Award’s best international feature film, sets out as though it is interested in answering those questions. The film opens with a young teacher, a principal, and a school staff member wondering what they are going to do. Armand has done something again. The parents are called in. The film’s premise is that Armand was accused of hitting Jon in the bathroom when Jon said he didn’t want to play with Armand. There are many additional revelations about the context, the relationship between Armand and Jon’s families, and the history of Armand’s family. There are accusations upon accusations that both indict and exonerate the boys and the adults around them. But these revelations eke out. It feels like filling up a mug from a leak in the sink. “If you want us to know what’s happening, just tell us,” I felt like shouting at the screen more than once. The film’s first act works well. The cinematography is ragged, framing its subjects well but always just off from what we’d expect. Too close, or the light is just wrong. It felt like how I imagine it would feel to have my child accused of something horrific. And when the parents first start talking the tension is terrific. Those first few drops of exposition in the mug were thrilling. Oh there’s something happening here; it’s complicated and interesting. Thea Lambrechts Vaulen, plays Sunna, a young teacher in over her head trying to manage the meeting between Armand’s mother, Elisabeth, played by Renate Reinsve, and Jon’s parents Sarah and Anders played by Ellen Dorrit Petersen and Endre Hellestveit. Vaulen is particularly effective. She has been sent on a mission by her principal, Jarle, to make sure the whole thing blows over. Watching her struggle to navigate this while the parents are processing what’s been said is captivating. But it just keeps going. The film’s entire second act consists of learning the basic facts of what has happened and the context around it. This is a complicated situation, and as a viewer I’m interested to see how the compelling characters navigate that situation. But the screenplay seems mostly interested in telling you the information. As though learning that Armand “plays doctor” at school is enough to compel me to the film’s ending. But once the audience finally understands the situation, the third act begins and flies wildly off the handle into surrealism, including two interpretive dance numbers, three over-the-top metaphors, and five straight minutes of Anders’ mother laughing. The movie feels so desperate to be deep that it forgets to be about anything. It’s the first film of director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel, so perhaps the bold ideas and beautiful cinematography will be wielded for a more worthwhile story next time. The film is entirely in Norwegian. And its English subtitles include a fair amount of profanity, though not an overwhelming amount. And the accusations that fly include suicide, alcoholism, and sexual assault. So these are adult themes. The film is R-rated, but not an egregious one, it pretty well all takes place in a parent-teacher conference. I can’t imagine ever showing this to my kids. The themes are hard ones, and the film has nothing worthwhile to say about them. Two out of five stars. Armand releases in US theaters on February 14, 2025.
Stay up to date on the intersection of faith in the public square.