A theological and legal analysis of the April 2026 federal lawsuit filed by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints against John Dehlin and the Open Stories Foundation, evaluated through Matthew 5:38–42 and the broader testimony of Scripture.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
INTRODUCTION: THE CLOAK IN FEDERAL COURT
On the afternoon of Friday, April 17, 2026, attorneys for Intellectual Reserve, Incorporated — the intellectual-property holding entity of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — filed a thirty-eight-page civil complaint in the United States District Court for the District of Utah. The defendants were a single excommunicated podcaster and the modest nonprofit through which he produces his work: John P. Dehlin and the Open Stories Foundation, doing business as Mormon Stories. The cause of action was trademark infringement, secondarily copyright. The relief sought was a permanent injunction. The plaintiff, according to its most recent publicly disclosed financial figures, sits atop an investment portfolio of more than two hundred billion dollars. The defendant podcaster has spent the past twenty-one years conducting interviews from a home studio.
Within ten days, the lawsuit had become a national story. The Chicago Sun-Times, Slate, Salon, The Independent, Axios, and a half-dozen Utah outlets carried versions of it. Dehlin posted a YouTube response. The response drew one hundred and thirty-five thousand views in seven days — several times his ordinary traffic. Trademark scholars at Harvard, Notre Dame, and Tulane were quoted as predicting an uphill climb for the plaintiff. The phrase “Streisand effect” appeared in nearly every analysis.
And somewhere in the long line of clergy and laymen who have read the Sermon on the Mount and tried to live by it, a question presented itself — not a clever lawyerly question, but the older and more uncomfortable kind that Jesus tended to ask. What does it mean for a church that calls itself the restored church of Jesus Christ to walk, voluntarily, into a federal courthouse and ask a judge to compel a private citizen to surrender the name under which he has spoken for twenty-one years?
This essay seeks to answer that question — not through polemic, but through a careful reading of Matthew 5:40 in its first-century legal, cultural, and theological setting, applied honestly to the lawsuit on the docket. We will examine what Jesus said and what He pointedly did not say. We will canvass the public record on the lawsuit itself. We will reconsider the 2015 excommunication that produced the defendant, alongside the institutional account of why it happened. We will examine the broader pattern of which this lawsuit appears to be one expression, including the parallel litigation over the Church’s handling of child sexual abuse — a parallel that, properly understood, illuminates rather than distracts. And we will close with a plea offered in the spirit of 1 Peter 3:15, with gentleness and respect, that the Church withdraw its complaint and quietly issue a statement to that effect from its Newsroom.
The verse at the heart of this analysis is one of the most famous and most misread sentences in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus said:
“And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your cloak also.”
— Matthew 5:40, NIV
Read it slowly. The sentence describes a lawsuit. It instructs a disciple how to behave when sued. It does not, by any natural reading, instruct a church how to behave when filing one. That asymmetry is the doorway into everything that follows.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
1. MATTHEW 5:40 — TEXT AND CONTEXT
Matthew 5:40 sits inside the Sermon on the Mount, specifically within the third of Jesus’ six “antitheses” — the rhetorical pattern in Matthew 5 structured as, “You have heard it said … but I say to you.” Each antithesis takes a rabbinic legal commonplace of the day and pushes past it to a more interior, more demanding standard. The third antithesis (vv. 38–42) addresses non-retaliation. It begins with the old judicial maxim of measured restitution — “eye for eye and tooth for tooth” — and continues with four illustrations, each more pointed than the last: the slapped cheek, the seized tunic, the compelled mile, and the open hand to the borrower. Verse 40 is the second of those four.
The literary unit is therefore not a freestanding aphorism about garments. It is a single sustained meditation on what changes when the disciple stops treating personal injury as a transaction to be balanced and starts treating it as an occasion for Kingdom witness. Strip the verse from its context, and one is liable to make it say something Jesus did not say. Place it inside its context, and the contours sharpen quickly.
Two further observations matter for what follows. First, the four illustrations are addressed in the second person singular to the disciple as the recipient of injustice, not to the magistrate, not to the corporation, not to the institutional plaintiff. The grammatical subject of the surrounding verbs is, throughout, the one being struck, sued, compelled, and asked. Second, the unit closes (v. 42) not with retaliation but with generosity — “Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.” The arc of the passage is unmistakable: from receiving aggression to absorbing it to converting it into outgoing love. The passage is a portrait of the disciple. It is not a code of corporate conduct — and therein lies its peculiar moral force when an organization invokes the name of Christ while standing in the very posture the passage was written to indict.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
2. FIRST-CENTURY LEGAL AND CULTURAL BACKGROUND
Two words in the Greek do most of the work. The first is χιτών (chitōn), the inner tunic — typically a long undergarment of linen or wool worn next to the skin. The second is ἱμάτιον (himation), the outer cloak — a heavier, larger rectangular piece that served as an overcoat by day and as a blanket by night. In the social economy of first-century Judea, the chitōn was the everyday possession; the himation was the survival possession.
It is here that Jesus’ instruction acquires its specific legal scandal. Mosaic Law placed the cloak under explicit protection. Exodus 22:26–27 reads:
“If you take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, return it by sunset, because that cloak is the only covering your neighbor has. What else can they sleep in? When they cry out to me, I will hear, for I am compassionate.”
— Exodus 22:26–27, NIV
Deuteronomy 24:12–13 amplifies the same protection. A creditor who took the cloak as security for a debt was required to return it before nightfall. The cloak was not, in other words, a fair game in a lawsuit. A plaintiff could lawfully sue for the inner tunic. A plaintiff who tried to take the outer cloak was running against the protective grain of Israel’s own law. The two garments stood in legal asymmetry, and every rabbi’s student in Galilee knew it.
What, then, was Jesus actually saying? He was making a calculated legal inversion. He was telling the disciple, in effect, when sued for the tunic the law permits, voluntarily hand over the cloak the law protects. The shock value was deliberate, the legal logic was inverted on purpose, and the cultural audacity of the instruction was the very thing that made it lodge in memory. The metaphor was not abstract. The hearers could feel the chill of a Galilean night without a himation.
This is not background trivia. It is the ground of the verse’s ethical force. Jesus is not casually counseling generosity. He is dramatizing the Kingdom’s posture toward legal aggression by inverting precisely the protection that the Torah itself extended to the vulnerable. He is saying: even where the law is on your side, surrender.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
3. WHAT JESUS WAS NOT SAYING
Because Matthew 5:40 is so frequently misapplied — weaponized in either direction depending on the speaker’s interests — four clarifications are necessary before any application can be honest.
First: Jesus was not abolishing the legal system.
The same Sermon that gives us 5:40 also presupposes magistrates and courts (“while you are still with your adversary on the way to court,” 5:25) and never suggests that civil order is itself sub-Christian. Paul, the foremost interpreter of the Gospel in the apostolic era, twice in Acts invoked his Roman citizenship and his procedural rights in legal settings — once to demand a public apology after an unlawful beating in Philippi (Acts 16:37), and once to appeal his case all the way to Caesar (Acts 25:11). Paul understood Jesus’ teaching better than anyone alive in the first generation, and Paul did not read 5:40 as a prohibition on the use of legitimate legal recourse.
Second: Jesus was not commanding passive surrender in every case.
The illustrations of the Sermon are designed as moral icons rather than as an exhaustive code. Jesus is not telling a battered wife to remain in a violent home or a wronged employee to surrender every wage to an exploitative employer. He is targeting a specific spiritual posture: the use of legal entitlement as a tool of personal revenge and dominance. The illustrations are vivid precisely because they isolate the ego from the contest.
Third: Jesus was correcting a specific abuse of Mosaic Law.
The phrase “eye for eye and tooth for tooth” (Exodus 21:24; Leviticus 24:20; Deuteronomy 19:21) was originally a juridical principle limiting magisterial punishment — a ceiling, not a floor. The scribes and rabbis of Jesus’ era had subtly transmuted it into a private right of retaliation. Jesus is restoring the principle to its judicial home while denying it any private application. He is telling His disciples: this verse was never about your wounded pride.
Fourth: Jesus was speaking to hearts more than to procedures.
The structure of the antitheses repeatedly drives behind the act to the disposition. “You have heard it said, do not murder … but I tell you, anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment” (Matthew 5:21–22). “You have heard it said, do not commit adultery … but I tell you, anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:27–28). The pattern persists into the third antithesis. Matthew 5:40 is therefore not finally a rule about cloaks. It is a diagnostic of the heart — the heart that is willing to use legal machinery to win, to dominate, to humiliate, or to silence.
The core teaching, then, is the stripping away of ego, retaliation, and power-seeking from personal disputes — not the surrender of all legal standing in every context. With these four clarifications in place, the verse becomes both more demanding and more applicable. It does not exempt anyone. It does not paralyze anyone. It diagnoses everyone.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
4. SOCIETAL AND KINGDOM ETHICS
Jesus was not, in 5:40, drafting tort reform. He was replacing one frame with another. The frame He inherited from the rabbinic tradition of His day was a legal-minimum frame: you are entitled to sue for your tunic; your honor is restored by the verdict; your loss is balanced by the award. The frame He proposed was a Kingdom-maximum frame: give even what you are not required to give, because the witness of the surrender is worth more than the property in dispute.
First-century Judea was a litigious society in a way that often surprises modern readers. Courts were frequent, frequently corrupt, and frequently weaponized. A determined plaintiff could consume an opponent’s livelihood through procedure long before any final judgment issued. Jesus’ words land in that world with terrible practical clarity. The People’s New Testament commentary, drawing on a vein of pre-modern Christian reflection on the verse, put the practical point bluntly:
“Better to give it up than to engage in litigation. Many a poor soul has realized this when it was too late, and the lawyers had divided his property.”
— People’s New Testament Commentary on Matthew 5:40
The wisdom in that observation is not anti-juridical. It is anti-attritional. It recognizes that litigation has a cost that is rarely confined to the case at hand — a cost to the litigants’ time, their nerves, their reputations, their souls, and very often the institutional integrity of whatever community surrounds them. Jesus said, in effect, the damage to your soul and to your witness from litigious combat exceeds whatever you are fighting over.
This is the Kingdom calculation. It does not deny that there are cases worth defending. It does insist that, before a disciple files, before a church files, before anybody claiming Jesus’ name files, the disciple must first ask whether the gain is worth what the contest will cost in things that cannot be priced. That question, when asked honestly, has the effect of dramatically narrowing the universe of lawsuits that a follower of Christ — individual or corporate — should ever bring.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
5. THE LAWSUIT: A FEDERAL RECORD, APRIL 17, 2026
The full text of the federal complaint is now part of the public record. The filing party is Intellectual Reserve, Incorporated, in concert with the Corporation of the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The defendants are John P. Dehlin and the Open Stories Foundation. The action is brought in the United States District Court for the District of Utah. The lawsuit seeks a permanent injunction against the defendants’ continued use of marks and images the plaintiff claims as its protected intellectual property, together with damages and attorneys’ fees.
The plaintiff’s theory of the case is twofold. On the trademark side, the complaint alleges that the defendants’ use of the word “MORMON,” in combination with a blue color palette and a stylized “light-rays” design element adopted in 2022, is intended to and does in fact cause some consumers to associate Mormon Stories with the Church. The complaint cites the Church’s longstanding registration of “MORMON” in connection with various educational, publishing, and broadcasting uses dating from the early years of the United States Patent and Trademark Office records, together with marks covering “Mormon Tabernacle Choir,” “Mormon Channel,” and “Book of Mormon.” On the copyright side, the complaint alleges unauthorized reproduction of Church-owned photographs and artwork — most notably depictions of the Christus statue rendering used in the Church’s official symbol — in the defendants’ promotional thumbnails and webpages.
The factual chronology, as presented in the complaint and in subsequent press coverage from Deseret News, Axios, and the Salt Lake Tribune, runs as follows. In November 2025, the Church reached out privately to Mormon Stories regarding the asserted intellectual-property concerns. Five months of negotiation followed. The defendants, by their own account and in the Church’s account, made some changes: the logo color was modified, a number of thumbnail images were removed, and disclaimers were added to the show’s various platform descriptions. The Church indicated that those changes did not, in its judgment, resolve the issue. The mediation broke down in April. The lawsuit followed on the 17th.
Two features of the breakdown are worth examining closely, because they cut against the Church’s framing of the litigation as narrow and confusion-driven. First, according to Dehlin’s account given to Axios and on his own platform, the Church’s mediation demands extended well beyond confusion-prevention. Dehlin says he was asked to remove “Mormon” from the show’s name, to renounce any future use of the word in any forthcoming project, to surrender his trademark application for “Mormon Stories,” and to agree never to challenge the Church’s trademarks. The Church’s public press statement emphasizes only that it sought “several options to reduce confusion while minimizing disruption.” But the gap between the two accounts is a chasm, not a hair, and it is the gap that the Sermon on the Mount will press on.
Second, the Church’s own twenty-five-year vacillation on the word “Mormon” complicates its claim of consistent enforcement. In 2010 and 2018, the Church spent millions of dollars on its “I’m a Mormon” media campaign, encouraging members to use the word as a missional handle. In August 2018, President Russell M. Nelson reversed the policy, instructing members, leaders, and the press to use the full name of the Church and to discontinue “Mormon” and “LDS Church.” The Mormon Channel was renamed. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir was renamed The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. The Mormon Newsroom became the Newsroom of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For more than seven years, the institutional message to the broader culture, repeated by apostles and disseminated by official channels, was that the word “Mormon” should fall into disuse. Now, in 2026, the same institution arrives in federal court seeking damages against a critic who has — in defiance of the Church’s stated preference — continued to use the very word the Church publicly disclaimed.
The complaint reads honestly when set against this twenty-five-year record only if one understands that the legal claim of consistent enforcement and the public claim of consistent disclaimer are being asserted by the same institution at the same time. Whether such a contradiction is fatal to the lawsuit on trademark grounds is a question for the trial court — trademark scholars cited in The Slate and Deseret News coverage are split. Rebecca Tushnet of Harvard Law School argued in Slate’s report that “Mormon Stories” seems to truthfully describe the contents of the show, even if momentary confusion arises. Trademark attorney Brittany Lyman, writing in the Deseret News op-ed pages, argued the opposite: that the Church’s enforcement is consistent with normal brand-protection practice and that Dehlin’s 2022 logo redesign placed him squarely in the path of an enforceable claim. The court will sort out the trademark question. The Sermon on the Mount asks a different one.
• Chicago Sun-Times: https://chicago.suntimes.com/the-watchdogs/2026/04/29/latter-day-saints-sues-podcaster-mormon-stories-john-dehlin
• Slate, Heather Schwedel: https://slate.com/life/2026/05/mormon-stories-church-lds-lawsuit-trademark.html
• Deseret News, Tad Walch: https://www.deseret.com/faith/2026/04/19/church-of-jesus-christ-files-trademark-complaint-against-podcaster-for-alleged-imitation-of-brands/
• Axios Salt Lake City: https://www.axios.com/local/salt-lake-city/2026/04/20/mormon-stories-church-trademark-lawsuit
• Mormon Stories Episode 2139: https://www.mormonstories.org/lds-church-sues-mormon-stories-podcast-and-john-dehlin-ep-2139/
⚜ ❧ ⚜
6. THE CHURCH AS PLAINTIFF — A REVERSAL OF MATTHEW 5:40
Here, the biblical analysis begins to bite. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not the defendant in this litigation. It is not the aggrieved party being dragged before a magistrate. It is the institutional aggressor in the courtroom. It chose the venue, drafted the complaint, selected the relief, and pressed “submit” on the filing. Matthew 5:40 envisions a disciple absorbing a lawsuit with grace; the present scenario is a multi-billion-dollar religious corporation initiating one against a single podcaster and a small nonprofit operating in the same federal district.
The asymmetry is not incidental. It is the moral structure of the matter. Jesus’ instruction was directed precisely to those in the position of being sued. He did not address those in the position of suing because, within the moral universe He was opening, the disciple was simply not supposed to be there with any frequency. To find that the institutional body which most insistently presents itself as the restored body of Christ is, in this case, standing in the position 5:40 was written to indict is the kind of finding that ought to give a thoughtful observer pause.
The Church’s defenders will object — reasonably — that institutions are not individuals and that brand protection is a fiduciary duty rather than a personal vendetta. The objection has weight. Trademark law exists, and it serves legitimate consumer-protection purposes that the Sermon on the Mount neither anticipates nor abolishes. The objection, however, has limits. It does not erase the gospel question of how and when and against whom a legal weapon is drawn from its sheath. And those limits become especially acute when the defendant is a single critic of the plaintiff, and when the asserted relief reaches well beyond what consumer protection could plausibly require.
The spirit of Matthew 5:40 — particularly its call to refuse the use of litigation as a tool of dominance, retaliation, or reputational coercion — applies here directly. It applies as a prophetic rebuke to the Church’s posture in this litigation. It does not apply as comfort to it.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
7. THE ‘CLOAK’ DYNAMIC — WHAT IS ACTUALLY AT STAKE
Apply the garment metaphor carefully, and a striking analytic clarity emerges. What does the LDS Church possess in this dispute that corresponds to the cloak, to the protected outer garment that Jesus instructed the disciples to surrender? Not, surely, the trademark registrations themselves. Those are inner garments at most, ordinary property of the kind that institutions are entitled to hold and to license. The cloak in this scenario is something larger and harder to name in the language of intellectual-property law. It is the Church’s reputation, its narrative control, its capacity to define what “Mormon” means in the public square. It is the prestige of the brand.
Jesus taught precisely that disciples and institutions operating under Kingdom ethics should be willing to absorb reputational costs rather than deploy legal machinery to silence critics or reclaim symbolic ground. The Church’s own statement on the lawsuit insists that the action is not about the podcast’s critical content. The Newsroom said so explicitly: “This case concerns branding choices that incorporate church-protected names and design elements in ways that may lead people to believe the podcast is produced by or affiliated with the Church when it is not.” Taken on its own terms, that is a narrow and even modest framing of the dispute.
But the practical effect of the lawsuit would be to force Dehlin to rename or fundamentally disclaim the very brand he has built over two decades, at enormous legal cost to him and his small nonprofit. Within the universe of remedies available to the Church, the chosen remedy reaches the maximum end of the available range. The Church did not propose, for example, a public-facing notice of non-affiliation, a settlement license under which Dehlin could continue using “Mormon” in his brand on agreed conditions, or a public-square educational campaign to clarify what is and is not officially affiliated. The Church chose an injunction. The chosen remedy is the cloak-taking remedy, not the tunic-only remedy. Whatever the trademark merits, the choice of weapon is itself a theological statement.
And it is the kind of statement that, read against Matthew 5:40, ought to be retracted by the very institution making it. Not because the Church has no rights, but because the disciple of Jesus who has rights is supposed to be the first one in the room willing to lay them down.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
8. POWER ASYMMETRY AND THE STREISAND EFFECT
Matthew 5:40 recognized something practically true as well as morally true: disproportionate legal responses backfire. The verse is not merely about the giver; it implicitly acknowledges what happens to the taker. The cloak-taker, in Jesus’ parable, looks ugly. The chosen instrument of dominance does the dominator no credit in the eyes of those who watch.
In the present case, the backfire was almost instantaneous. Dehlin’s YouTube response, posted within twenty-four hours of the filing, drew one hundred and thirty-five thousand views in a week — several multiples of his ordinary traffic. Major secular outlets immediately framed the lawsuit as evidence of the Church’s authoritarianism. Salon’s headline read, “Mormons will regret suing an ex-member.” Slate offered, with cooler temperature, that the lawsuit “could change what we know about Mormonism” — a striking phrase to find in a trademark dispute. Legal commentators across the political spectrum noted the obvious peril of attempting to silence a critic by amplifying him.
Within the trade, this is called the Streisand effect, after the 2003 episode in which Barbra Streisand sued to suppress an aerial photograph of her Malibu home and thereby caused the photograph to be downloaded several hundred thousand times. The mechanism is now well-known: a legal action intended to suppress a piece of expression draws the very attention to that expression that the action was designed to extinguish. The mechanism is so well-documented that any sophisticated institutional plaintiff considering high-profile litigation against a critic is presumed by legal counsel to have weighed the cost. That the Church proceeded anyway suggests either that its counsel weighed the cost and considered it acceptable, or that the institutional decision-makers who authorized the filing did so out of motives stronger than the considered counsel before them.
Neither possibility is theologically reassuring. The Sermon on the Mount anticipated both. “Fighting over the cloak publicly,” one could paraphrase, “will cost you more than letting it go.” The math is older than trademark law.
There is a related, more sobering measurement. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is, by any honest accounting, in a season of public-image strain. A 2023 Pew survey reported by Salon found only fifteen percent of Americans expressing favorable views of Mormons, a percentage that places the Church below even atheists and Muslims in the same poll. Membership growth has slowed and, in several Western nations, reversed. Resignations have accelerated. The November 2024 release of resignation figures by ex-LDS resignation services described what some called a “crisis of confidence.” In this climate, an aggressive lawsuit against the single most prolific critic of the Church reads, to the watching world, as a fingertip pressed to a leak that requires structural repair. The leak is not Dehlin. The leak is the fissure between institutional narrative and the public’s perception of it. No injunction can patch that.
• Salon, Amanda Marcotte: https://www.salon.com/2026/04/29/mormons-will-regret-suing-an-ex-member/
• RadioWest, KUER: https://radiowest.kuer.org/show/radiowest/2026-05-05/why-the-lds-church-is-suing-mormon-stories-host-john-dehlin
⚜ ❧ ⚜
9. LEGITIMATE VS. RETALIATORY LITIGATION: A NECESSARY DISTINCTION
To be fair to the Church — and fairness is the price of any honest reading of Matthew 5:40 — Paul’s example in Acts 25:11 shows that legitimate legal defense is not categorically prohibited by Jesus’ teaching. Trademark law exists for valid reasons. Churches can have genuine interests in protecting their brand from impersonation. The Church’s reported demand for a clear disclaimer at the start of each episode is, on its face, modest. If the lawsuit were only about preventing active consumer confusion, it could fall within the category of legitimate governance that the commentaries describe — a category the Sermon on the Mount does not foreclose.
Three observations, however, suggest the present case has crossed from that category into another.
Observation One: Disproportion.
The relief sought is a permanent injunction, not a labeling order. If the Church’s stated concern is consumer confusion, the proportional remedy is a disclosure mandate, not the elimination of the defendant’s brand. The chosen remedy exceeds the stated concern by an order of magnitude. In law and in theology alike, that disproportion invites the question whether the stated concern is the real concern.
Observation Two: Selectivity.
The Church has, since November 2025, contacted at least three other podcasts about “Mormon” in their names, according to reporting in the Salt Lake Tribune. The Church has not, however, demonstrated comparable enforcement against the dozens of small businesses, hobby blogs, genealogy services, family-history platforms, and amateur Mormon-history projects that use the word in similar ways. Selective enforcement — if it is selective — looks less like brand protection and more like the targeting of critics. Trademark counsel cited in Slate’s reporting noted that selective enforcement weakens trademark claims by suggesting that the mark has not been consistently policed. The same selectivity, theologically, weakens the moral framing of the action.
Observation Three: The Scope of the Mediation Demands.
The most telling fact about the breakdown of negotiations is the breadth of what the Church reportedly demanded. Dehlin has stated publicly that Church counsel asked him to remove “Mormon” from his domain, his brand, and any future internet project; to renounce his application for the “Mormon Stories” trademark; and to agree that the Church owns all rights to the word “Mormon.” If those demands are accurately reported — and the Church, despite multiple opportunities, has not denied them — then the case has crossed from clarification of an existing brand to suppression of a speaker’s descriptive vocabulary for any future undertaking. That second category is not a confusion remedy. It is a silencing remedy. And it is the silencing remedy that Matthew 5:40, applied honestly, presumes against.
The Sermon on the Mount does not require the Church to abandon every legal interest. It does place heavy suspicion on the use of legal power to preserve status, to control public perception, and to increase the cost of dissent to the point of crushing it. The presumption can be overcome only by an unusually clear showing that the action is narrowly tailored to a real harm and that less coercive remedies have been tried and have failed. On the record as it stands, the present litigation has not made that showing. It has, in fact, made the opposite showing — that the available less-coercive remedies were declined in favor of the cloak-taking remedy.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
10. THE 2015 EXCOMMUNICATION, RECONSIDERED
Any honest reading of the present lawsuit must reckon with the eleven-year history that precedes it. John Dehlin was excommunicated by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on February 8, 2015, in a disciplinary council convened in North Logan, Utah, by his stake president, Bryan King. The official letter of excommunication cited “conduct contrary to the laws and order of the church” and, in the accompanying explanation, the word “apostasy.” That much is uncontested.
What is contested — and what continues to be contested by the institutional apparatus of the Church in the present 2026 lawsuit — is the why. The Church’s official narrative, repeated in 2015 and again in the 2026 lawsuit filings and accompanying press communications, frames the excommunication as a response to Dehlin’s “spread of false concepts” about Church doctrine and his public denial of foundational truth claims, including assertions that the Book of Mormon and Book of Abraham are works of fiction. The Church’s framing minimizes the role of Dehlin’s advocacy for women’s ordination, LGBTQ+ inclusion, and same-sex marriage. The framing presents the discipline as a measured, doctrinal action against doctrinal departure.
There are three reasons to doubt that framing, and the doubts are not merely the doubts of Dehlin’s defenders. They are documented in the public record.
First: The Stake President’s Own Words.
Stake President Bryan King’s letter, released publicly by Dehlin and widely reproduced in February 2015, included a passage frequently cited but rarely placed in its full context. King wrote that Dehlin had the free-speech right to “criticize the church and its doctrine and persuade others to his cause” — but that he did not have the right “to remain a member of the church in good standing while openly and publicly trying to convince others that church teachings are in error.” The decisive offense, in the stake president’s own articulation, was not private doubt. It was public influence. The disciplinary action targeted Dehlin’s capacity to draw others away from the institutional teachings, not the content of his private convictions. This is not the same thing as discipline for doctrinal error. It is discipline for visibility and persuasion.
Second: The Apostolic Statement of January 2015.
Three weeks before Dehlin’s disciplinary council, Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles appeared on the Salt Lake Tribune’s “Trib Talk” webcast and articulated the standard. The standard he described was striking. Christofferson said that members are free to disagree with the Church’s stance on same-sex marriage and women’s ordination — even “doesn’t really become a problem unless someone is out attacking the church and its leaders” in a “deliberate and persistent effort” to “draw others away.”
Read carefully, the Christofferson formulation made the excommunication threshold turn not on heresy but on reach. A member could privately disbelieve almost anything, but visible, persistent persuasion of others crossed the line. Within three weeks of that statement, the most visible persistent persuader of others in the disaffected-Mormon space — Dehlin himself — was excommunicated. The chronological correspondence is difficult to read as accidental.
Third: The 2017 Leak.
A 2017 leak of internal Church documents — reported on extensively by religion journalists and discussed again in Salon’s recent coverage — contained a PowerPoint presentation prepared for Church leadership that named multiple individuals and organizations as “leading people away from the gospel.” Dehlin appeared on that list. The list, on its face, was a strategic threat assessment of high-influence critics, ranked by reach and impact. The list does not appear to have ranked critics by the gravity of their doctrinal errors. It appears to have ranked them by the size of their platforms. That, again, is precisely the standard articulated by Christofferson in January 2015 and applied to Dehlin in February.
The Church’s official narrative of the excommunication — doctrinal misrepresentation, false concepts, gospel error — thus stands in tension with three separate pieces of public evidence pointing toward a different operative standard: influence, persuasion, and threat to the institutional grip on its own narrative. None of this means that the Church lacked the authority to convene a disciplinary council under its own rules; ecclesiastical bodies retain wide latitude over their membership. What it means is that the public reasons given for the excommunication — then and now — do not match the structure of the discipline as actually administered.
Why does any of this matter for a trademark case in 2026? Because the lawsuit is part of an eleven-year continuity. The same institutional logic that produced the excommunication — the prioritization of narrative control over the spiritual discernment of error — produces the lawsuit. The 2015 discipline removed Dehlin’s name from the membership rolls. The 2026 lawsuit seeks to remove his use of the name “Mormon” from the public square. Both actions answer the same question: what tools may an institution use to manage the influence of an effective critic? Excommunication exhausts the ecclesiastical toolkit. Litigation reaches the civil one. The trajectory is unmistakable. And it is precisely the trajectory that Matthew 5:40 was written to disrupt.
• Religion News Service, Bob Smietana: https://religionnews.com/2015/02/10/mormon-critic-john-dehlin-excommunicated-apostasy/
• Deseret News, 2015 excommunication: https://www.deseret.com/2015/2/10/20558308/mormon-stories-founder-dehlin-s-spread-of-false-concepts-results-in-excommunication-from-lds-church/
• Wikipedia, John Dehlin: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Dehlin
• Mormon Stories — Bishop and Stake President interviews: https://www.mormonstories.org/the-excommunication-of-john-dehlin-my-bishop-and-stake-president-interviews/
⚜ ❧ ⚜
11. A MICROCOSM OF IMAGE PROTECTION: THE PARALLEL LITIGATION
There is one further line of evidence that no honest reading of the present lawsuit can ignore. It is the body of litigation, presently exceeding three hundred filings nationally and one hundred concentrated in California alone, alleging that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints engaged in systematic non-reporting of child sexual abuse over a period of several decades through the mechanism of its internal “Help Line.” That body of litigation runs on a parallel track to the Dehlin case. The cases are not connected by their formal facts. They are connected by something deeper — a common institutional logic. Both are, at their root, image-protection litigation. In the abuse cases, the Church is the defendant. In the trademark case, the Church is the plaintiff. But the operating principle in both, viewed at the level of institutional culture, is the protection of the brand.
The factual record on the abuse cases is by now extensive and beyond serious dispute on its broad outlines. In 2022, an Arizona lawsuit revealed, with corroborating audio evidence obtained through ordinary discovery and reported by the Associated Press, that the Church’s confidential “Help Line” — staffed by attorneys from the Church’s law firm of Kirton McConkie — had been used to channel reports of confessed child sexual abuse away from law enforcement and toward internal legal-liability assessment. In one documented case, a Mormon bishop in Bisbee, Arizona, who had received a confession of years-long abuse of two minor children, was instructed by the Help Line not to report. The abuse continued for years afterward. The children continued to be victimized.
In April 2025, a federal judge ruled against the Church in a related dispute over payment of abuse settlements. In May 2025, the Church agreed in principle to settle more than one hundred childhood sexual abuse lawsuits filed in California, on confidential terms. In July 2025, an Arizona appellate court ruled that the Adams case could proceed past the Church’s clergy-penitent-privilege defense, citing the Church’s own General Handbook provision that bishops should disclose confidential information when “necessary to prevent life-threatening harm or serious injury.” The Court found that the Church’s own published instruction undercut its claim of absolute privilege.
These cases are theologically relevant to the Dehlin lawsuit, not because they are formally connected, but because they illuminate an institutional pattern of asymmetric urgency. When the institutional brand has been imperilled by a critic, the institution moves swiftly, decisively, and with the maximum legal weapon available — a federal injunction. When the institutional brand has been imperilled by allegations of harm to children, the institution moves through privilege claims, settlement-mediation delays, opposition to MDL consolidation, and confidentiality. The asymmetry is itself the message. It tells the watching public what the institution values.
Compare the two timelines closely. Dehlin began Mormon Stories in 2005. The Church initiated negotiations with him in November 2025, twenty years into his work. The mediation lasted five months. The lawsuit was filed in five additional months. From first contact to federal court: about five months. By contrast, the Help Line is reported to have functioned as a non-reporting mechanism for some decades before public exposure in 2022. The Church’s response to that exposure, four years later, remains procedurally combative — fighting consolidation, settling individual cases under confidentiality, and asserting clergy-penitent privilege even in cases involving ongoing abuse of children. The same institution that moved with such speed against a podcaster has moved with such patience against survivors.
It is fair to point out, in the Church’s favor, that it has publicly stated that the Help Line is intended in part to protect children and that the Church reports child abuse cases as required by law. It is also fair to point out that the substantive question of whether the Help Line did or did not protect children is a question now before multiple courts, with a growing body of unfavorable rulings in the cases where the record has been most fully developed. The point of this section is not to render a verdict on the abuse litigation — the courts are doing that and will continue to do that. The point is to observe that the same institutional muscle that has been deployed in one direction — toward suppression of a critic — has, in another direction, been visibly slow and procedurally cautious in addressing harm to vulnerable members.
Matthew 5:40 was written into precisely this kind of moral pattern. It is the disciple’s and the institution’s instinct to deploy maximum force when reputation is at stake — and minimum force when the obligation is costly and the brand benefits from delay. That instinct is universal, and it is, the Sermon insists, sub-Christian. The Sermon does not require an institution to be indifferent to its reputation. It does require that an institution willing to file a federal lawsuit over the use of the word “Mormon” demonstrate equal or greater urgency about the suffering of those whom the same institution placed under its pastoral care. On the public record, that test has not been passed. And it is the gap between the urgency of the two responses that brings the lawsuit, theologically, into sharper relief.
• The Guardian, child sex abuse allegations: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/08/mormon-church-child-sex-abuse-allegations-california
• Wikipedia, Mormon abuse cases: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormon_abuse_cases
• File Abuse Lawsuit, helpline scandal: https://www.fileabuselawsuit.com/the-lds-helpline-scandal-alleged-coverups-and-legal-fallout/
• Turnbull Law Firm summary: https://www.turnbulllawfirm.com/mormon-church-sexual-abuse-lawyer/
⚜ ❧ ⚜
12. A PLEA, OFFERED WITH GENTLENESS AND RESPECT
The Apostle Peter wrote: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15). The present essay aspires to that posture. The remainder of it is offered not to the courts, not to the press, and not to the secular commentariat. It is offered to the leadership of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and to those Latter-day Saints who read essays like this one and who themselves carry within them the disquiet that any thoughtful believer would feel when their institution stands before a federal judge in the very posture that the Lord they confess told them never to occupy.
It is also offered to readers across the spectrum of belief and disbelief, in the same spirit. Whatever else this litigation is, it is a moment in which an institution claiming the name of Jesus Christ has an opportunity to demonstrate, in a publicly visible way, what that name actually means.
The argument of this essay reduces, in the end, to a simple request. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints should withdraw the federal lawsuit against John Dehlin and the Open Stories Foundation. The Church should announce the withdrawal through its Newsroom, in the form of a brief and theologically forthright statement. The statement should not concede the legal merits of the trademark question — that question is, in any event, not the gospel question. The statement should simply say something like this:
“After prayerful consideration of the Sermon on the Mount and of the Lord’s instruction to His disciples regarding the use of legal process in personal disputes, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is voluntarily withdrawing its complaint in the matter of Intellectual Reserve, Inc. v. Open Stories Foundation and John P. Dehlin. We continue to hold the rights we asserted in the complaint, and we reserve the right to address future cases of consumer confusion through appropriate means. But the spirit of the Savior’s teaching in Matthew 5:38–42, and our wish to extend kindness and respect to those who differ from us in conviction, leads us to withdraw the matter from the federal court. We will pursue clarification through means that do not require the imposition of legal cost on a single critic or a small nonprofit. We make this decision in the spirit of spiritual kindness and out of a desire that our actions match our teachings about the Master we serve.”
— Proposed Newsroom statement, offered without copyright
Several considerations argue for such a withdrawal. They are practical, reputational, and theological. The practical consideration is that, on the trademark merits, the lawsuit is widely regarded by independent legal scholars as facing a difficult road; the descriptive-fair-use doctrine and the Church’s own twenty-five-year vacillation on the word “Mormon” create substantial defenses. The reputational consideration is that the Streisand effect is already at work and is unlikely to abate — every additional month of litigation will amplify the very platform the lawsuit was filed to constrain. The theological consideration is that, on the gospel question, the Church is now visibly occupying the wrong end of the Sermon’s parable, and every continued day of occupancy compounds the witness problem.
A voluntary withdrawal, executed gracefully and explained candidly, would reverse all three. It would resolve the lawsuit before the courts can render judgment. It would defuse the public-relations escalation. And it would offer a powerful, public demonstration that the institutional Church takes seriously the words of the Master it confesses. The witness value of such a withdrawal would, in the calculus of the Kingdom Jesus described, exceed the value of any injunction the courts could deliver.
This essay also acknowledges what the withdrawal would cost. It would cost the Church a measure of institutional pride. It would cost it the satisfaction of having prevailed. It would cost it the symbolic re-establishment of authority over its name. These are not trivial losses for an institution. But they are precisely the losses Matthew 5:40 had in mind when it asked the disciple to surrender the cloak.
The author of this essay is not a Latter-day Saint. He is an evangelical Christian who has spent years studying LDS history, theology, and culture, who has personally engaged in street ministry to Latter-day Saint neighbors, and who has counted Latter-day Saint friends across many seasons of his life. The plea offered here is not the plea of an enemy. It is the plea of a fellow reader of the New Testament who believes that the words of the Sermon on the Mount have authority over every institution that claims the name of Jesus, including evangelical institutions, and that to invoke that name while standing in the cloak-taking posture is a more public test than most institutions ever receive. The Church has been granted, in this lawsuit, an unusual opportunity for a publicly visible obedience. The opportunity is still open. The complaint can still be withdrawn.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
13. CONCLUSION
The Sermon on the Mount has been read for two thousand years, and it has, in every century, found new occasions to embarrass new institutions. Its embarrassment is, in the providential economy of Scripture, a gift. It is the way the words of Jesus refuse to be domesticated. The verses do not stop applying when an institution becomes powerful, when its lawyers grow numerous, when its assets grow vast, or when its public-relations apparatus learns to phrase its lawsuits as ministrations. The verses keep speaking. They speak now.
Matthew 5:40, read honestly, does not forbid the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from holding trademark registrations. It does not forbid the Church from defending its brand when defense is required. It does not forbid the Church from asking John Dehlin to display a disclaimer at the start of his episodes. What it does forbid — or at least what it places under heavy presumption against — is the use of federal litigation as a tool of reputational control, exercised by a vast institution against a single critic, when less coercive remedies are available and have been declined.
The lawsuit on the docket today is not, in the language of Matthew 5:40, a request for a tunic. It is a reach for the cloak. And the Sermon on the Mount, which the Latter-day Saint tradition holds to be the words of the resurrected Christ in its own canonical witness as much as in the New Testament, instructs the disciple in such moments to do something different. To let the cloak go. To absorb the cost. To trust the witness.
It is not too late for the Church to do so. The complaint can still be withdrawn. The cloak can still be handed over. The witness can still be made. And the watching world, which is at the moment watching closely, would see what every disciple sees who has ever followed Jesus to that hard, beautiful place where the law’s permission stops mattering because Kingdom love has begun to.
That is the place to which Matthew 5:40 points. It is offered to every reader of the Sermon on the Mount, in every age. It is now offered to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. May the offer not pass.
⚜ ❧ ⚜
COLOPHON
This essay was researched and drafted by Dennis Robbins for The Righteous Cause (novus2.com/righteouscause). The author engaged Anthropic’s Claude AI as a scholarly research collaborator for source aggregation, biblical-language research, and draft assistance. The arguments, theological framework, conclusions, and editorial judgments are the author’s. Primary sources consulted include the federal complaint in Intellectual Reserve, Inc. v. Open Stories Foundation (D. Utah, filed April 17, 2026); contemporaneous reporting by Chicago Sun-Times, Slate, Salon, Deseret News, Axios Salt Lake City, KSL, KUER RadioWest, ABC4, The Independent, and The Salt Lake Tribune; the author’s 2015 reporting and 2026 follow-up by Religion News Service and the Washington Post on the original excommunication; Mormon Stories Episode 2139 and accompanying public statements by John Dehlin; the Wikipedia biography of John Dehlin; reporting on the LDS Help Line and related abuse litigation by the Associated Press, The Guardian, Motley Rice, Turnbull Law Firm, and File Abuse Lawsuit; and the relevant biblical text of Matthew 5:38–42 in the New International Version. All quotations are reproduced under fair use for theological commentary and public-interest analysis.
Primary Resources:
• https://www.reddit.com/r/mormon/comments/1sp83g4/lds_church_lawsuit_against_mormon_stories_rejects/
• https://www.reddit.com/r/exmormon/comments/1s4omxl/an_update_on_the_lds_churchs_threats_to_sue/
• https://www.facebook.com/groups/christvm/posts/25782547894752795/
• https://chicago.suntimes.com/the-watchdogs/2026/04/29/latter-day-saints-sues-podcaster-mormon-stories-john-dehlin-todd-wade-christofferson
• https://www.salon.com/2026/04/29/mormons-will-regret-suing-an-ex-member/
• https://radiowest.kuer.org/show/radiowest/2026-05-05/why-the-lds-church-is-suing-mormon-stories-host-john-dehlin
• https://www.mormonstories.org/on-attempts-to-smear/
• https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/lds-sues-mormon-podcast-b2962138.html
• https://www.johndehlin.com/about/
• https://gospeltangents.com/2022/07/john-dehlin-early-years/
• https://gospeltangents.com/2022/07/john-dehlin-mormon-critic/
• https://www.deseret.com/2015/2/10/20558308/mormon-stories-founder-dehlin-s-spread-of-false-concepts-results-in-excommunication-from-lds-church/
• https://www.reddit.com/r/mormon/comments/1fxc4m6/commentary_when_church_leaders_distort_former/
• https://wasmormon.org/church-indoctrination-is-the-goal/
• https://exponentii.org/blog/the-monitoring-silencing-and-abuse-of-women-in-the-lds-church/
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormon_abuse_cases
• https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/08/mormon-church-child-sex-abuse-allegations-california
• https://www.turnbulllawfirm.com/mormon-church-sexual-abuse-lawyer/
A Note on Research Methods and Accuracy
In recent years, some have voiced concern that artificial intelligence may distort facts or introduce inaccuracies into serious research. That criticism deserves acknowledgment. However, AI has now evolved into the most powerful research instrument available to any dedicated scholar—capable of analyzing vast datasets, cross‑referencing historical records, and surfacing overlooked connections across sources. This work represents a collaboration between the author’s investigative inquiry, verified primary documentation, and the advanced analytic capabilities of AI research tools. Here, AI was not used as a ghostwriter or a shortcut for scholarship, but as a disciplined research partner devoted to rigor, accuracy, and transparency.
Every factual claim in this work has been subjected to active verification. Where AI‑generated content was used as a starting point, it was tested against primary sources, peer‑reviewed scholarship, official institutional documentation, and established historical records. Where discrepancies were found—and they were found—corrections were made. The author has made every reasonable effort to ensure that quotations are accurately attributed, historical details are precisely rendered, and theological claims fairly represent the positions they describe or critique.
That said, no work of this scope is immune to error, and the author has no interest in perpetuating inaccuracies in the service of an argument. If you are a reader—whether sympathetic, skeptical, or hostile to the conclusions drawn here—and you identify a factual error, a misattributed source, a misrepresented teaching, or a claim that cannot be substantiated, you are warmly and genuinely invited to say so. Reach out. The goal of this work is not to win a debate but to get the history right. Corrections offered in good faith will be received in the same spirit, and verified corrections will be incorporated into future editions without hesitation.
Truth, after all, has nothing to fear from scrutiny—and neither does this work.