Paul H. Dunn’s Blatant Lies: “Although They Were Not True, the End Justifies the Means”
The LDS church didn’t expose him cause he was too influential
Photo by Michael Hart on Unsplash
[Chu News – Life, Religion, US News / Mark Chu] When I was a faithful Mormon missionary, one day I heard a fellow missionary laugh and say: “Elder Dunn admitted some of his stories are not true.”
At that time I didn’t know who Elder Dunn was, and I didn’t care; I imagined the untrue stories were something like he prayed to help someone’s misfortune and the Lord answered. The reality, I thought, might be that the story was true to some degree but he exaggerated it to be more dramatic. Well, not ideal, could be better, I admit; but a bit of exaggeration isn’t too bad, right?
You have to understand that I was a fireball; my thoughts and behavior were all razor-sharp focusing on the mission and the mission only. I wasn’t always like that though; in the first two or three months into my mission, I had a faith crisis; the church had all the standard teaching lessons, and I seriously doubted most of them. I remember praying to Heavenly Father that I needed an answer, or I couldn’t continue. I told Him I needed a sign or a personal revelation.
Then one morning, when I and my mission companion started singing the hymn, Joseph Smith's First Prayer, the first verse:
Oh, how lovely was the morning! Radiant beamed the sun above…
Suddenly, my heart was full of joy and peace like a summer day. That feeling lasted for a couple of hours or so. From then on, I became the most devoted believer of Mormonism—of course, that was before the internet era. My knowledge about the church was very limited. My experience was called a testimony or being moved by the spirit in the church. When I went to BYUH, a college established by the church in Hawaii, I always shared this story with people, especially those who weren’t as religious.
Was that really a testimony? That the church was “true?” Well, maybe, but now as a psychologist, I do have a more plausible explanation in my opinion: cognitive dissonance. When one’s behavior and thoughts conflict, one has to find a rationale to reconcile the difference. If it’s not possible, then one will either change the behavior, or sometimes if that’s still not possible, change the thoughts to be in line with the behavior. At that time, it was literally impossible for me to quit—I’d feel like a loser, I’d fail everyone’s expectations, and I’d have to face the disappointed eyes of all the people I cared about. So I changed my thoughts unconsciously.
In fact, the church constantly asks the members to sacrifice, such as serving the mission full time without pay, paying full tithing (donating 10% of one’s gross income—not net income, mind you), serving callings in the church without pay, buying products from the church like educational materials or the garments (special underwear required for members who go through the temple ceremonies)… and the list goes on. The benefits of doing so are at least twofold: the church saves resources (in other words, becomes richer), and believe it or not, the members become more faithful than ever. It’s a very smart move.
Now, come back to Elder Dunn. A few days ago I learned that journalist Lynn Kenneth Packer, the nephew of another LDS general authority Boyd K. Packer, exposed all the lies Dunn told throughout his whole life. The lies weren’t just “harmless” little white lies—they were a huge scandal. He lied about his achievements by fabricating a major league baseball career with the St. Louis Cardinals and as a WWII veteran who survived more than one bloody battle, then lied about his involvement with a pyramid scheme. He was even accused of sexual misconduct by two women, though was it only inappropriate touching/language or full sexual intercourse, no one knows.
His lies probably wouldn’t be possible nowadays when all the information is at our fingertips, but at that time they converted a huge, huge number of members. Surprisingly, I guess he was persuasive, cause even at that time, lying on such a scale shouldn’t be able to sustain the test of time, but a few people who knew the truth helped him cover up. For example, he claimed that in WWII, his best friend died in the battle on Okinawa, and before he passed away in his arms he asked Dunn to promise to “help the youth in your church” or some sort. Lynn Packer, a serious investigative journalist, tracked down that “died” best friend, Harold Brown, who was alive and well—and admitted to being part of the lie.
Lynn Packer gathered all the evidence and was ready to publish the story, but the obstacles he faced were big: no one dared to publish it and risked being sued by a rich and powerful church (eventually, the Arizona Republic published it, forcing Dunn to issue a grudging, not genuine apology), got fired from BYU for a teaching job, and the general authorities in the church surely would want to stifle it at all costs. Even his uncle, Boyd K. Packer, who disliked Dunn with a passion (and the feeling was mutual), pressured him not to pursue the story cause it did no good to the church.
Two general authorities, James E. Faust and David B. Haight, had a few meetings with Lynn Packer. They were sincere, understanding, and nice, and offered to make Dunn emeritus—in other words, fired him from the general authority but saved his face. When Packer questioned why he wasn’t fired, they explained that doing so could potentially lead to a disaster; so many members joined the church because of him, if he was fired and exposed, they didn’t dare to even imagine the consequences on the membership.
When Dunn died in 1998, the obituary published by the Deseret News still claimed Dunn as “a former professional baseball player… signed by St. Louis Cardinals baseball club… until a broken collarbone ended his pitching career.” Also, “He was granted emeritus status because of age and health factors.” Due to many concerns, Lynn Packer purposely postponed the publication of his book, Lying For The Lord—The Paul H. Dunn Stories, to 2015 after Boyd K. Packer died. He did one book signing, and only four or five people showed up.
Now, of course, Dunn brought so many people to the church. When they were moved by the inspiring but false stories, I’m sure they “felt the spirit” at that time, probably quite similar to me when singing the hymn about Joseph Smith’s first prayer. And to be honest, as I’ve repeatedly said in the past, I’d learned so much from the church and had received so much kindness and help. I imagine many of the members converted by Dunn might be the same. So, imagine you’re a faithful church member, do you think the end justifies the means?
I want to say even if you’re the most faithful member, you shouldn’t believe that. First, from what I see, Dunn lied not for the church, but for himself; he cared only about personal fame and glory. Second, I have to say I don’t agree with many of the church's policies and history; many of them do the members more harm than good. I trust there must be members who feel that way now. And finally, do you think the members won’t find out the facts? And by covering things up, it does more damage to the church’s image if you ask me.
Though I think the church is betting on the members’ cognitive dissonance. When I told my close friends who were still in the church about the Mountain Meadow, they simply shrugged without even raising an eyebrow. I’m sure they didn’t know about that bloody history, but they simply refused to believe it or attributed it to anti-Mormon propaganda. After all, they’ve sacrificed so much for the church, they vowed to be faithful and loyal to the end of the world.
Even so, however, let’s spread the facts. We’re not attacking anyone or taking any side, we just tell the truth. Then people can decide for themselves.