Re: “Mixed reactions as portrait of Mormon founder unveiled at Morehouse” by Mike Jordan.
We represent three generations of Morehouse Men (graduates from the Classes of 1967, 1984 and 2012) who are publicly expressing opposition to the college’s recent decision to install an oil portrait of Joseph Smith, founder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in the Martin L. King Jr. International Chapel on campus.
It is in the spirit of Rev. Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays — the Baptist minister, theologian, and spiritual mentor to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who led Morehouse from 1940 to 1967 — as Morehouse Men and as ordained clergy and educators, that we write in profound protest of the decision to honor Joseph Smith.
Indeed, it is a bitter irony that the unveiling of his portrait took place at the beginning of Black History Month in a chapel named after one who would never compromise his integrity for anything or anyone, let alone money.
Historical records show that Joseph Smith owned enslaved people. Although he eventually expressed opposition to slavery during his 1844 presidential campaign, his church did not prohibit slavery, and its members continued to own enslaved people.
But that is not the whole story. Beyond slavery, there is the issue of polygamy and marrying underaged girls.
Morehouse’s legacy is one of ethical leadership
Credit: Vernon
Credit: Vernon
Joseph Smith married dozens of women — some estimated between 30 and 40 — including girls as young as 14. These facts are not peripheral.
They are central to his life and legacy. Therefore, we must ask: What lesson are we teaching when we elevate a man because he ostensibly shifted his stance on slavery late in life — during a political campaign — while minimizing or overlooking his exploitation of women and children?
The issue is not whether Joseph Smith ever opposed slavery. It is whether his full legacy aligns with the values Morehouse claims to embody.
Are we, as Morehouse men, telling women and girls — especially in this era shaped by the reckoning around Jeffrey Epstein — that powerful men’s misconduct can be excused if their political résumé is compelling enough?
Morehouse College stands as one of America’s most revered institutions. For generations, it has shaped Black male leaders grounded in dignity, discipline, and responsibility to the community. Its legacy is inseparable from the broader struggle for Black liberation — and from a commitment to ethical leadership.
Mays created the paradigm of “The Morehouse Man.” His vision was unwavering: Morehouse would be defined by academic excellence, moral courage and intellectual rigor. He challenged us to use our education not for selfish gain, but to serve our communities and change the world.
That charge has never left us.
In February 1954, several months before Martin Luther King Jr. became pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, he delivered a sermon in Detroit entitled “Rediscovering Lost Values.”
Credit: Mark
Credit: Mark
The 25-year-old preacher offered a bold critique of moral relativism and told the congregation, “But I am here to say to you this morning that some things are right and some things are wrong. Eternally so, absolutely so.”
Thirteen years later, in September 1967 — seven months before he was assassinated — King addressed the American Psychological Association’s Annual Convention in Washington, D.C. Defending his opposition to the Vietnam War, he repeated what has become one of his most quoted lines: “Justice is indivisible, that injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Then he reinforced what he had proclaimed in Detroit years earlier:
“On some positions, cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity asks the question, ‘Is it popular?’ But conscience must ask the question, ‘Is it right?’ And there comes a time when one must take a stand that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular. But one must take it because it is right.”
Our HBCU must model that character and integrity matter
We cannot champion freedom while sidelining those who were exploited. We cannot preach justice while compartmentalizing moral failure. We cannot build ethical leaders while modeling selective morality.
Morehouse’s dean of the chapel approved the installation and has defended the decision. Yet Morehouse chapel assistants — students entrusted with stewarding the spiritual life of campus — have spoken out in opposition. Their voices matter deeply.
Historically Black colleges and universities have always been shaped not only by administrators and benefactors, but by students courageous enough to speak when conscience demands it. From early 20th century protests to the moral awakenings of the Black Power era, student dissent has often preserved the integrity of our institutions.
This moment should not be read as a personal attack on Dean Lawrence Carter. It should be understood as an invitation into honest and necessary conversation about our moral witness. There is no record of Rev. Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays, Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman or Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. specifically elevating Joseph Smith as a moral exemplar worthy of honor in a sacred space.
Credit: Erskine Isaac
Credit: Erskine Isaac
These were men of immense theological depth and intellectual rigor. If Joseph Smith’s legacy aligned so clearly with the moral architecture of Morehouse, how did these giants — and countless others — miss what has now been uniquely “discovered”?
Morehouse taught us that leadership is measured not only by power, but by how one protects the vulnerable. King reminded us that justice cannot be divided. Mays taught us that excellence without integrity is hollow.
If Morehouse teaches that character matters — that integrity is indivisible — then it must model that standard publicly. No donation amount should supersede the institution’s moral compass.
The world is watching.
But more importantly, the young men on campus are watching. They are learning what leadership looks like. They are absorbing what is excusable and what is not. They are deciding whether moral clarity is situational or absolute.
As Morehouse Men shaped by the example of Mays and King, we believe the answer must be clear.
“There comes a time when one must take a stand — not because it is safe, nor politic, nor popular — but because it is right.”
The authors are Morehouse College alums:
Rev. Dr. C. Vernon Mason Sr. is a civil rights leader and minister in residence at Friendship Baptist Church, Village of Harlem (Class of 1967).
Rev. Dr. Mark L. Chapman is pastor of North Presbyterian Church (Manhattan) and associate professor of African-American Studies at Fordham University (Class of 1984).
Rev. Dr. Rashad Raymond Moore is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Crown Heights, Brooklyn (Class of 2012).
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