In the mid-twentieth century, the Catholic Church convened the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965) to address the challenges of a rapidly changing world. The council’s sweeping liturgical reforms were meant to re-energize Catholicism, make it more accessible, and arrest perceived decline. Yet, in the decades that followed, mass defections in once-devout regions, dwindling vocations, and the surprising growth of traditionalist enclaves showed that modernization can undermine what once held a faith together.
Today, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints appears to be embarking on a similarly ambitious project under President Russell M. Nelson. Since 2018, an unmistakable rebranding drive—reshaping worship practices, revising key doctrines, and positioning the Church for broader global appeal—has taken shape. Much like Vatican II, these changes promise relevance and renewal but also risk diluting the distinctives that once bound its members in a tight communal identity.
1. A Post-Monson Turning Point
By the final years of President Thomas S. Monson’s administration, membership growth in Latter-day Saint strongholds (particularly the United States) had stalled. Baptisms were down, young people were drifting away, and the Church’s image sometimes languished in the eyes of a secularizing culture. Upon assuming leadership, President Nelson moved quickly. He proclaimed the dedication of the Rome Italy Temple in 2019 a “hinge point” in Church history and introduced notable changes:
• Eliminating the nickname “Mormon.” Members were admonished to use the institution’s full name at all times.
• A revised official logo featuring the Christus statue. This new branding reflected Nelson’s repeated insistence on emphasizing Jesus Christ.
• Overhauled temple ordinances. Centuries-old symbolism was streamlined or removed, and new language placed Jesus at the forefront, aligning more closely with mainstream evangelical discourse.
• A digital push for teaching materials. Manuals like Come, Follow Me can be quietly updated online, allowing the Church to refine or reframe doctrines without extensive notice.
For some, these moves felt inspired and overdue; for others, they signaled an effort to soft-pedal or even abandon the Church’s traditional identity in hopes of broader Christian acceptance.
2. From American Roots to a Global Stage
Historically, Latter-day Saint self-understanding was tied to the American frontier. Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and the pioneer legacy forged a faith entwined with U.S. exceptionalism: Manifest Destiny–like narratives, a strong emphasis on constitutional ideals, and a headquarters in Utah that functioned almost as a theocracy for its first generations.
Now, as global membership has grown—and as the Church’s multi-billion-dollar Ensign Peak investment fund underscores its vast resources—leaders appear determined to shed the “regional religion” label and reintroduce the Church as a universal Christian body. Rather than touting pioneering quirks or American-born theology, the Church under President Nelson highlights a sweeping missionary vision, humanitarian outreach, and polished public relations.
Yet, historically, religions that successfully globalize do so without losing their unique center of gravity. Vatican II taught Catholicism the difficulty of modernizing without hollowing out core practices. Today, many Latter-day Saints worry the Church may be falling into the same trap, minimizing the “peculiarity” that once set it apart in favor of a corporate-friendly, mainstream Christian image.
3. Grand Designs for Temple Square
Perhaps the most visible symbol of this evolution is the rumored redesign of Temple Square in Salt Lake City. In 2020, a PDF document surfaced that depicted a large-scale transformation—dubbed by some as the “Holy City” or “Mountain of the Lord” plan. While Church officials denied the leaked proposal’s official status, it appeared professionally produced and pointed toward a grand vision of a more cathedral-like complex, complete with major building demolitions and expansions.
This reminds many observers of the Catholic Church’s efforts to modernize sacred spaces following Vatican II. Some post-conciliar renovations stripped away traditional ornamentation in favor of sleek minimalism, aiming for “accessibility” but often creating tension among those attached to architectural grandeur and historic continuity. Should a large-scale overhaul of Temple Square materialize, it could similarly spark debates about tradition versus modern image—as well as underscore President Nelson’s drive to remake the Church’s most iconic locations into a global religious hub.
4. Temple Revisions and Theological Shifts
Traditionally, the Latter-day Saint temple endowment was a dramatic portrayal of human progression from premortal life to exaltation—a cosmic narrative underscoring the unique Mormon claim that men and women could become like God. Over time, ceremonial tokens, gestures, and dialogues reinforced the faith’s distinct theology of exaltation, moral rigor, and the continuity between mortal life and the divine realm.
Under President Nelson, the temple ceremony has been trimmed and altered to be more palatable to modern sensibilities. While some changes have been well-received (particularly expansions in women’s roles and the removal of culturally jarring elements), the overall effect is to move Mormon theology closer to a mainstream Christian narrative of redemption. It’s reminiscent of post–Vatican II liturgical reforms, which replaced Latin Mass with the vernacular and simplified time-honored rites—only to discover that many Catholics felt something profound was lost in translation.
5. Resurgent Millenarianism and the Cult of Personality
President Nelson’s tenure has also featured a renewed millenarian emphasis. Latter-day Saint leaders have always taught belief in a literal Second Coming, but Nelson has framed it with urgency, calling young people the “battalion” that will help gather Israel and prepare for Christ’s return. This apocalyptic note contrasts interestingly with the broader turn toward mainstream acceptance: on one hand, the Church is downplaying older doctrines that set it apart, while on the other, it is reinvigorating end-times rhetoric.
At the same time, critics point to an emerging “cult of personality” around Nelson himself. For instance, a rumor spread that he planned to use a section of the Salt Lake Temple’s renovation debris as his future headstone—an anecdote widely shared but never substantiated by official sources. Whether true or not, the rumor captures a perception: President Nelson’s public image has become highly central to Church messaging. Devotionals, special celebrations, and repeated admonitions to “follow the prophet” evoke parallels with how post–Vatican II popes embraced global media to personify their church. In Catholicism’s case, even charismatic papal figures could not stem declines in Mass attendance or religious vocations—raising the question of whether emphasizing one leader’s persona can truly invigorate Mormonism long-term.
6. Lessons from the Vatican II Aftermath
The trajectory of the Catholic Church after Vatican II offers a cautionary tale. Modernization was supposed to keep Catholicism relevant and appealing. Instead, it often blurred the faith’s edges, left many adherents disenchanted, and contributed to a stark downturn in participation. Ironically, the younger generations seeking spiritual intensity began gravitating to the pre–Vatican II liturgy (the Traditional Latin Mass), which remains the most vibrant sector in certain Western dioceses.
Could Latter-day Saints see something similar—a budding “traditionalist Mormonism” that hews to Joseph Smith’s more radical teachings on human deification, retains older temple forms, and rejects the Church’s rebranding push? If so, the Church hierarchy may find itself coping with the same internal tensions that have bedeviled Catholic leaders: reconciling a modernizing establishment with traditionalists who believe too much has been compromised.
Meanwhile, in secular societies, a more mainstream presentation seldom galvanizes young people. Gen Z and others often prefer a faith that distinguishes itself clearly from the broader culture, offers a sense of transcendent otherness, and challenges them with rigorous commitments. Diluting peculiar doctrines to seem more “normal” can inadvertently undermine the very features that once sustained fervent belief.
7. Where It All Leads
President Nelson’s rebranding efforts indeed look like a Vatican II moment for Mormonism: far-reaching liturgical and doctrinal tweaks, the ambition to recast the faith in a more marketable way, and substantial building projects hinting at a modernized grandiosity. These changes may bring temporary excitement and PR benefits—especially abroad, where assimilation into global Christendom can reduce suspicion. Yet if they erode the Church’s distinctive ethos, the long-term effect could echo the post-conciliar Catholic decline.
None of this is foreordained. The Church’s vast financial resources, substantial missionary force, and enduring emphasis on familial bonds may still anchor a committed membership. However, the tension is plain: forging a less “weird,” more agreeable Mormonism might satisfy some segments of the faithful, but it can also sap the vitality that once made the community so tightly knit and uniquely driven.
Conclusion
Vatican II sought to reinvigorate Catholicism but instead revealed how easily modernization can slip into dilution. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints now faces a similar crossroads under President Russell M. Nelson’s watch. By reshaping core rituals, revamping Temple Square, and playing down the traditional quirks that once made Mormonism stand out, today’s leaders hope to chart a path for global growth and modern relevance. Whether that vision will halt declining participation in the West or, like Vatican II, sow the seeds of future fragmentation remains an open question.
What is clear is that religions thrive not just on polished presentation, but on deep identity and coherent theology. If Latter-day Saint distinctiveness fades beneath a veneer of mainstream Christian rhetoric, the Church may find itself enjoying short-lived acceptance—only to suffer, in the long run, from the hollowing out of the very beliefs and practices that once bound its members in extraordinary devotion.

