facebook-pixel

How these Latter-day Saints are grieving and embracing the end of the — or at least their — world

The aftermath of a pandemic, the rise of A.I., an unfolding climate crisis, the erosion of democratic norms. For these Latter-day Saints, the act of faith is in rejecting despair.

(Rick Egan, Megan Knobloch Geilman, Leah Hogsten) For Latter-day Saint writer and artists James Goldberg, Megan Knobloch Geilman and Camilla Stark, the world is a frequently heavy place. Drawing on stories from their faith helps.

To those following the Latter-day Saint literary and art scenes: Have you noticed? There’s an existential dread creeping steadily into the words and imagery found in the spaces overlooked by church-owned Deseret Book.

It has been this way for a few years now. But never has it been so explicit as in “The Desert Prophet,” a newly published black-and-white graphic novel penned and illustrated by Latter-day Saint artist Camilla Stark.

The book, which raised nearly $17,000 on the crowdfunding site Kickstarter, opens with apocalyptic imagery taken from the scriptural canon of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — a moon turned to blood, seas that have heaved beyond their bounds.

(Camilla Stark) Excerpts from "The Desert Prophet," an apocalyptic graphic novel by Latter-day Saint artist Camilla Stark.

For Stark, having moved past the point of cloaked metaphors, the causes are unmistakable. Human consumption and climate change are to blame, and no one wants to hear the warnings of the protagonist, the Desert Prophet, on these points. With the fate of the world sealed, the staff-wielding skeleton must decide how, as the character known as the Desert God puts it, “to respond to the end of the world.”

This is also the question The Salt Lake Tribune put to Stark, as well as Latter-day Saint writer James Goldberg and artist Megan Knobloch Geilman. All have embraced overtly apocalyptic themes in their work as they grapple with a sense that, whether it’s climate change or social and political shifts in the United States, something is ending — or perhaps is already gone.

(Leah Hogsten | The Salt Lake Tribune) Camilla Stark in her art studio in her home, Nov. 28, 2022.

Do you feel a sense of the end times approaching or bearing down on you?

Stark • Yes, absolutely I do. If you look at the different projections by climate scientists of things that might start happening at different degrees of warming, it’s very frightening. I have a young son and thinking about what the world will look like for him, and wanting it to be safe and habitable for him, is absolutely on the forefront of my mind almost every day.

How do you manage that weight?

Stark • That’s a good chunk of what the book’s about. Writing it helped me get to a point in my philosophy where, ultimately, I believe it comes down to not being overwhelmed by the fear and the anxiety and the feeling of helplessness.

The whole message of my book is about not giving up, even in the face of impossible odds, even if what we do individually doesn’t actually make a difference or matter. Because it matters to our souls and living up to the commandments that we’ve been given about caring for the Earth and for each other. Even if we do our best to make a difference, and it does nothing, I still think it matters for us morally as individuals.

(Camilla Stark) In her graphic novel, "The Desert Prophet," the protagonist must wrestle, at times literally, with how to respond to an unrepentant world hurtling toward disaster.

Is it just climate change that makes you feel like your world is ending?

Stark • No. Honestly, A.I. seems like a really, really bad situation to me. And there’s also the whole anti-medicine craze going on in the United States. That’s definitely very stressful.

What stories from your faith or beliefs help you avoid despair and remain engaged with life?

Stark • I have been learning a lot lately about different pioneer stories. It really puts your own problems in perspective when you think about people’s toes freezing off on crossing the Plains. They had it so much harder than we have it, and they still made it through, and they still experienced happiness. They built cities. They created art and literary societies.

I also think there’s a pretty strong admonition to care for the Earth in our book of scripture known as the Doctrine and Covenants. That’s part of my motivation behind trying to be an environmentalist. There’s a lot of contention, including among members of the church, around this topic. And so something that I really hold to is the concept of Zion being a community of people who love each other and work together despite their differences, and choose to forgive one another and choose to collaborate with and build a community with people who are different.

It’s extremely easy to fall into tribalism and see other people as enemies. Something I try really hard to do is to deliberately forgive and listen to others.

What gives you hope?

Stark • That, ultimately, everything is in God’s hands. That doesn’t mean we won’t have horrible calamities and that people won’t get hurt. But I have faith that there is some kind of higher power, that it’s not meaningless suffering. We’re not just humans scrabbling about in the dust and that, during hard moments, I can turn to prayer and personal revelation to feel less alone.

(Rick Egan | The Salt Lake Tribune) Latter-day Saint young adult author James Goldberg, at his home in American Fork, in 2021, notes how conditions in the world and the church have changed since the 1990s.

James Goldberg is the primary author of “A Book of Lamentations.” Written during the COVID-19 pandemic, the book of poetry wails for those lost to the disease — also, record-setting fires, school shootings, policy brutality and so much more. He is working on a novel set several centuries into the future after a long process of civilizational decline.

Do you ever feel as though the world — or at least your world — is ending?

Goldberg • Maybe particularly for those of us who grew up in the triumphalist 1990s, when there was a great deal of stability in the world with the end of the Cold War and in the church, we’re wrestling with what it means to have so much uncertainty about the future. That extends to how religion is going to be practiced and how democracy and institutions like higher education will operate. It’s not super clear.

When you talk about the triumphalism in the church of the 1990s compared to now, are you talking about the relative slowdown in membership growth?

Goldberg • Even more than that, it’s about how, in the 1990s, it was easier to think that the same rhythms of faith I have now are going to continue for me and my family more or less indefinitely.

Nowadays, there’s not one dominant view of what our religious identity is. You’re accommodating people in a lot of different places. How are we going to maintain a shared sense of discipleship and community through those things?

What Latter-day Saint-specific stories, scripture or heroes are you drawn to amid uncertainty?

Goldberg • In a lot of Christian spaces, there’s one end of the world that we’re looking forward to, these apocalyptic events before the return of Jesus Christ.

We also have that as Latter-day Saints. But maybe more than other groups, we have this awareness of multiple narratives of times of collapse. The Book of Mormon begins and ends with civilizational collapse, with several more examples in between. So for me, turning back to the Book of Mormon and thinking about that has been important.

As I’m doing so, part of what I’m interested in is the sort of [Book of Mormon prophet] “Moroni problem” — not just where does salvation come during disruption, but what does it look like to have religious commitments in a period that’s super difficult and that might be really lonely.

What is the answer?

Goldberg • I find some comfort in saying we have done this before. At some point in human history we got this idea that history is a straight line toward progress. But in our scriptural canon, that’s not the case. We’ve got cycles of renewal and drift. And I think, for me, it’s important to say that even if there’s a happier spiritual life in the times of renewal and when everything is going well, there’s still a spiritual life to be had even with this sort of relationship entropy playing out around me.

There’s a lot of precedent for people in the scriptures who went through these kinds of things. And so I feel like I have turned back to the tradition with a greater hunger because of the challenges in the world around me.

Do you feel grief?

Goldberg • Yes. Post-9/11, having the Sikh-styled facial hair and overall appearance, that was scary, obviously. But I had this basic sense that, yes, there’s still prejudice in the United States, but that’s not what the country stands for. That’s the aberration, not the national identity, because you had prominent figures on both sides of the political aisle who were denouncing Islamophobia.

Now I feel a little more unmoored about where we are in terms of the success of American pluralism. And, yeah, I feel pretty sad about that. One way I deal with that grief is to really dwell on what is the thing that I loved and how to articulate a vision of this thing that existed and mattered. Because sometimes I feel crazy — like, is the whole project of civilization, did we build it wrong somehow, and it’s just falling apart now? It’s important to remind myself, no. Here are some of the things that we have done together, and there is some hope.

What does that hope compel you to do?

Goldberg • I try to avoid apocalyptic impatience. I want to be present with the waiting, instead of skipping to the end. For 2,000 years, the question of Christian discipleship has been one of what you do because you’re waiting for Christ — not why doesn’t Christ intervene and fix history.

(Megan Knobloch Geilman) Megan Knobloch Geilman is a Latter-day Saint artist whose work has taken on themes of political disruption.

(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) “The End Is Nigh and the Call Is Coming From Within the House,” by Megan Knobloch Geilman, at the Springville Museum of Art’s 39th Annual Spiritual and Religious Art of Utah exhibit.

Megan Knobloch Geilman is a contemporary artist whose recent works include, “The End Is Nigh and the Call Is Coming From Within the House,” a reflection, as she wrote on Instagram, on living amid “climate change, world atrocities and failing democratic norms.”

Do you ever think about the end of the world? What do you think you would do in that scenario?

Geilman • When I was younger, I was like, “Well, I’m just going to die.” And then I met my husband who is really handy. But I don’t know. It feels like I’m kind of living through the end of the world a little bit already. There was a pandemic and still a lot of destabilization. And I’m realizing humans crave normalcy so much that we are just going to keep going as normally as possible until we can’t.

How has your faith helped you face that uncertainty?

Geilman • I practice a lot of surrender to God because there’s so much out of my control. And then I also try to focus on what I can do to relieve suffering.

How do you think the church, as a whole, responds to creating solutions or dealing with those global challenges? Do you think it has a leg up with its humanitarian aid, preparation and finances?

Geilman • Sometimes, yes. I think of Sharon Eubank, humanitarian aid and land stewardship. I also think about the newly appointed apostle Gérald Caussé and what he’s said about reaching out to refugees. So I think sometimes there are coordinated efforts at the higher level. I just don’t see it being discussed at a local level as much. It doesn’t trickle down.

(The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) Sharon Eubank, director of humanitarian services of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, speaks at a panel at the U.N. Commission on the Status of Women in New York City about partnering against poverty in 2024.

(Chris Samuels | The Salt Lake Tribune) Newly ordained apostle Gérald Caussé, an advocate for environmental stewardship, speaks with The Tribune at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in Salt Lake City in November.

Are there any Latter-day Saint stories or beliefs that help you deal with the upheaval we’re witnessing?

Geilman • I think of Moroni at the end of the Book of Mormon, the foundational scripture of our faith. After seeing his entire civilization basically destroyed, he focused on faith, charity and love. That’s very inspiring because I like to focus on the positive things that I think will endure beyond our own time.

The church’s own name suggests a focus on the end of times. Does the term feel personally meaningful?

Geilman • Not really. The entire history of Christianity has had a focus on urgency regarding the end times. And so that’s why I treat it paradoxically. I’m going to think about if the world is going to the end and pull the good from that. And then I’m going to think about how I would act if the world weren’t ending, and I’m going to try to pull all the good from that. And I will combine those two views and hopefully be the best person I can be.

There are those in Latter-day Saint culture who look forward to and would welcome the end of the world. For them, the apocalypse means the Second Coming of Jesus. How do you respond to that? And does being a parent change the way you think about the apocalypse?

Geilman • There’s so much infighting and lack of focus on creating solutions. Especially in my Latter-day Saint faith, the narrative that I often hear when we’re faced with the idea of the end of the world is, “Well, Jesus is going to come and fix everything.” To me, that removes the accountability, which is very frustrating because I want to create a better world for my children.

For anyone who is overwhelmed by the challenges the world faces, what would you tell them as a Latter-day Saint?

Geilman • Don’t give up. Do what you can. I believe in inspiration and continuing revelation and that we shouldn’t give up in the face of discouraging things. If Jesus was just going to come and fix everything, I think Jesus would ask, “What are you doing now? And what did you do to help?” That’s not specific to Latter-day Saint culture, but I think it’s important for us to think about.

Note to readers • This story is available to Salt Lake Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.