Allyson Reynolds was the “default Republican” for most of her life. The 53-year-old Latter-day Saint simply explained the world in which he grew up.

In 2016, he felt some hesitation about voting for Republican candidate Donald Trump, but by 2020, for various reasons, he had broken not only with the party leader but also with the party itself. He didn’t go quietly either.

“That was the first time I decided to get involved with political issues on Facebook,” Reynolds, who was originally from Minnesota but was living in Highland, Utah at the time, said with a wry chuckle. “Wow, I never went back to that again.”

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

“Our children were teaching his children,” he said. “We were friends and neighbors. I accompanied their children to their musical numbers (at church).

But none of that seemed to matter after her Facebook post arguing that abortion should be kept safe and legal. Exceptions allowed by the churchIncluding cases of rape and incest.

“He came at me (in the comments) and then got some of the other ward members to come at me and call me the Antichrist,” he said. “… I was very surprised because these are people I personally know and love.”

Church leaders seem to recognize such tension among the ranks. Statements and addresses of top executives around the world have been repeated many times. need for kindness and reminded members that “there may be principles consistent with the gospel.” participated in various political parties.”

The question that has led to one of the closest and most contentious presidential elections in U.S. history is whether these lofty goals have found their way into the hearts and minds of the people in the pews.

What church leaders say

In his 2023 worldwide General Conference address, Church President Russell M. Nelson lamented the loss of “civility and civility” in an age of “polarization and passionate disagreement.” He challenged listeners to resist the urge to “vilify” those who disagree with them and become peacemakers.

That same year, he and his advisors served in the faith’s First Presidency. Warns against direct voting or that votes based on “tradition” were a “threat to democracy” if a candidate was not carefully vetted.

And one October 2024 General Conference sermonsenior apostle Dallin H. Oaks echoed Nelson’s call to avoid polarizing rhetoric.

“Let us qualify for His blessings by using the language and methods of the peacemakers while pursuing our preferred policies in public action,” urged the man who would become the head of the global faith. “Let us avoid harsh and hateful things in our families and other personal relationships.”

The struggle between good and evil

Julie Spilsbury of Mesa believes these messages are “wonderful.” Like Reynolds, the 47-year-old Arizona native grew up Republican and cast his first and last vote for Trump in 2016.

Among the experiences that changed his perspective on politics was his election to the City Council in 2020.

Until that point, Spilsbury had lived in the “super LDS, super conservative little Mesa bubble,” which eroded his belief that “Democrats were bad.” He later won a council seat and suddenly found himself working with individuals of all political persuasions; all of whom “cared deeply about their families and communities.”

He said: “It opened my eyes.”

In this presidential election, the Republican in Arizona — and specifically the Latter-day Saint Republican — has been part of a movement hoping to help the state turn toward Democratic nominee Kamala Harris.

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

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

In this context, no matter how Spilsbury presents his positions, by breaking ranks he becomes “divisive” (something he hears all the time) and any attack, no matter how personal, is justified. To Spilsbury, this seems to be the perspective of those who labeled her a “slut” and said, “I hope you burn in hell.”

Definition of kindness

Even so, it would be wrong to portray all Trump-supporting Latter-day Saints as (typically) online brawlers.

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

“I want to march in the streets,” the 51-year-old Mesa Latter-day Saint said, holding a sign that read “Don’t vote for Harris.”

However, Mason said that he and his friend were able to exchange positive views on the issue.

He has studied Nelson and Oaks’ words and has many thoughts about why their interactions remain respectful. First, he said that both he and Spilsbury made an effort not to control the other’s votes or opinions. The Trump supporter admitted it’s tough when you consider the other person’s vote has the potential to “destroy your life.” However, as the fear inside him increases, he reminds himself to “trust that God is in control of everything.”

Mason observed: “Kindness is not about stereotyping others or mentally demonizing (the other side) by thinking, ‘Because they all hate America.’” Mason observed.

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

Like Reynolds and Spilsbury, the 44-year-old Latter-day Saint has faced major blowback in recent years after voicing his opposition to Trump.

“People get angry more easily than I expected,” the Dayton, Nevada, resident said, citing at least a sense of “betrayal.” Many times, messages and calls reduced her to “tears.” Among other things, he received comments in one way or another questioning, “I’ve lost my sense of spiritual direction, which is hurtful.”

Brunjes said the experience strengthened his belief that kindness comes from following the core teaching of Christianity: Love your neighbor.

“I was never told to judge my neighbor,” he said. “I was just told to love them, try to understand them, be peaceful, and avoid strife.”

One trick Brunjes has learned from experience is to take some time before responding to others, especially when what they say is hurtful.

“If I’m responding to someone with any negative emotion, whether it’s anger or resentment,” he said, “that will lead to strife.”

What is civilization not?

One of the concerns Mason raises about church leaders’ recent emphasis on avoiding nasty political fights is its potential to have a chilling effect on strong interaction among Latter-day Saints on combustible issues.

Reynolds, who recently opened the Instagram account @last dayechoed this fear.

“To me, it’s not polite to have your echo chamber and your corner with two like-minded people,” he said, “to talk about others in private and not engage.”

Spilsbury also expressed this concern, drawing a contrast between being a peacekeeper (someone who prefers silence in the hope of avoiding controversy) and being a peacemaker. The latter, he suggested, often requires “speaking out” about perceived injustices, but doing so with respect and love.

progress signs

Spilsbury remains optimistic. Even in the parched landscape of social media, he believes he is beginning to see a few green shoots of kindness.

She points out several of her husband’s posts on Facebook regarding the upcoming election. He said the couple was preparing for the coup together. But this time the reaction was different.

“That created quite a bit of pushback,” he admitted. “But for the most part the comments were quite respectful. …We kind of failed.”

There’s no way to prove that the change was due to church leaders’ comments, but the timing of it all (the posts were posted shortly after the last General Conference) made one think “maybe people are trying harder.”

Reynolds draws a straighter, bolder line between church leaders’ comments and the resolution he eventually found with the Latter-day Saint man who made hurtful comments on Facebook.

Several years later, he was still deeply scarred by the experience when he heard Nelson’s stirring appeal to followers of the faith to achieve peace.

“You won’t believe this,” he said, “but five minutes after this conversation ended, I got a text from the same guy apologizing to me. And I know it was because he had just heard the same conversation.”

He said he forgave him “immediately.”

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

Of the 150 or so people who responded, only 6% said yes.

Not much. But maybe, just maybe it’s a start.