It’’s Sunday morning on South Avenue in New Canaan, and across from Waveny Park a succession of cars is pulling into a church parking lot. It’’s been waggishly put forward that had Jesus’s disciples been Mormon and not Jewish, they would have arrived at the Last Supper in business suits, and there’’s little surface evidence to dispel that here. Most of the men wear jackets and all wear ties, even the small boys. Women and young girls wear long dresses of gingham and floral print.
The crowd continues to make its way into the church auditorium a few minutes past 10 a.m., the official start time. "Mormons are notoriously late,"” Rod Hawes stage-whispers from his seat in the pews. Given they will spend the next three hours in church, such
tardiness seems forgivable.
It was in the middle 1960s that Hawes, then just launching himself in the insurance business, got news a former classmate of his at Stanford University was joining the Mormon church. “"I said: ‘You’re crazy! I know some Mormons. They’re wonderful people, but their theology is wacky.’"’” Hawes vowed to look into this religion to save his friend from "the biggest mistake of his life.”"
His project was, by Hawes’’ own happy admission, a spectacular failure. By the end of the 1960s, Hawes was a practicing Latter-Day Saint himself, living in New Canaan with his wife and family, helping build a local Mormon community consisting then of only three families. By 1979 Hawes, who had been the New Canaan bishop for five years, had overseen construction of the current church. To many, he is known as the founder of what was, before he sold it, the world’’s largest independent life reinsurance company, Life Re, with a building named after him at Harvard Business School. To his fellow Mormons in New Canaan, he is simply “Brother Hawes.”
Today there are too many churchgoers to fit into the 250-plus capacity nave; the back must be opened up and folding chairs set out to accommodate everyone. Inside, the church has no stained glass or crucifixes. “"We acknowledge the crucifixion, but we prefer to celebrate the resurrected Christ,"” Hawes explains.
They sing some familiar hymns, like “"Onward Christian Soldiers,”" but different ones, too. "On Thou Rock of Our Salvation"” includes the instruction that it be sung with conviction. Church members seem to need no prompting as they bellow the last verse with gusto: "Every day the prospect’’s fairer/As we battle for the truth.”
Hawes is not the only captain of industry who takes that idea to heart. Sitting at the front facing the congregation is Gary Crittenden, CFO of American Express, who, as stake president, has oversight of the New Canaan ward and six others in Fairfield and Westchester counties. Next to him is Dave Checketts, former head of Madison Square Garden and present owner of the St. Louis Blues hockey team. On the opposite end of the podium is another American Express executive, senior vice president Rion Needs, who has Hawes’’ old job of New Canaan bishop.
Others like Hawes sit in the pews, including David Neeleman, founder and CEO of JetBlue Airways, and Todd Thompson, chief information officer of Starwood Hotels. Jim Quigley, CEO of Deloitte & Touche, may be here, too; this is his place to be on Sundays when not on the road. Hawes even spots a hedge-fund manager a few rows up.
While New Canaan’’s Mormons as a whole may be no more nor less successful than any other local group you may name, these are some remarkable business figures to find in the same place on any given Sunday. Jeff Benedict, himself a Connecticut Mormon as well as a journalist, has just published a book presenting the notion that Mormonism can have a positive influence on one’s career. Using eight businessmen as examples, The Mormon Way of Doing Business examines how selected Mormons have thriven in a free-market economy dominated by those who do not share their beliefs. Five of the eight executives profiled are from New Canaan — Hawes, Neeleman, Checketts, Quigley and Crittenden.
Benedict, whose other books include exposés on sports corruption and legalized gambling, has never written about Mormonism before. “"I don’’t want this to be a religious book — and it isn’’t,” "he says. “ "It’s a business book.”
Benedict’’s book posits the idea of a happy nexus between God and Mammon, of how a super-disciplined lifestyle, deepened by a commitment to something larger than oneself, can make for a more successful career. For the New Canaan men, participating in the book offered them a chance to show, in Crittenden’’s words, “how the church informs our lives.”
Crittenden rejects the assertion that “nice guys finish last,” even in the material realm. “"My honest experience is quite the opposite,"” he says. “ "People who succeed have an appreciation for serendipity. They understand that there was a great measure of luck, that they happened to be in the right place at the right time. They know the success they have enjoyed was built on those who preceded them. That’’s true in the church as well.”"
Quigley, in charge of Deloitte and Touche for the last four years, says he was intrigued when Benedict approached him. Faith and commerce aren’’t mutually exclusive in his worldview, either.
"I don’’t think success is a bad thing,”" he explains. "I Iike the parable the Savior taught about the talents, where the master gave five to one man who increased them, and one to another man, who buried it. The master made the second man give his talent back. The point of the story is if you have an opportunity, you should develop it. It doesn’t mean you have to be greedy and dishonest."”
The “Savior” Quigley refers to is Jesus Christ, not Joseph Smith or Brigham Young. However important Smith and Young are as founders of the Church of Latter-Day Saints, the idea that Mormons actually worship them is one of the misconceptions David Neeleman finds frustrating.
"I want people to understand that we’’re moderate,” "says Neeleman, whose airline, founded in 1998, is one of the industry’s few post-9/11 success stories. “"People think we’’re a cult. Yes, there’’s no smoking or drinking, but you don’t ‘have to be a Mormon to understand that. It’’s just one of those things you don’’t have to wrestle with.”".
As for the nexus between church and work, Neeleman offers this philosophy: "I’’ve got a really strong belief that if you serve others, do the right thing and create an environment at work where everyone feels appreciated, you’ll be more successful and more fulfilled. Those are principles I’ve learned in the church.”""
As for the issues Mormons do wrestle with, three-hour church services seem like child’s play. There’’s a 10 percent tithe on all members’”earnings, which is used to fund the church. As there are no paid clergy, each faithful Mormon is expected to give of his time as well, visiting sick parishioners and lending a hand to an outreach program. Yes, Benedict notes, it’’s easier to write a check, but there are “a lot of rewards for giving ourselves to a cause” — rewards his book delves into.
"One thing the church teaches us is humility,” says Needs, sitting in his office down the hall from the sanctuary during a break in the Sunday services. “"We want you here for a minimum of three hours. There is a lot you can do beyond that, like call and check in on a couple of Mormon families each month, just to see how they are doing and if they need any help.”"
For the second half of worship-time, congregants divide up. There’’s “primary” for the youngest children, Bible study for the adults. In the auditorium where the first-half services were held, a group of teenagers sits in a tight knot front and center, listening as Dave Checketts talks about their responsibilities as Mormons and young adults.
Keeping young people faithful to LDS doctrine is a key element of the mission on South Avenue. Hawes notes the snares of drugs, alcohol and pornography. Listening closely, you feel some of the anxiety in Checketts’ words to his teenage audience. Some of them are attentive, others seem sulky, a few stare off into space.
“"You have a lot of power over the happiness of your parents, and it’’s not just the big things, but little things, too,"” he says. “"My own father didn’’t go to church very often, it was usually my mother and us kids. I knew that saddened her. This one day in church, I put my hand on her shoulder. I don’’t know why — I don’t’ even remember doing that — but she remembered.”"
Checketts is at least the third speaker to talk to the young people, but his style is unique. First, he makes them stand and sing a song they first learned in primary. "“The rains came down/And the floods came up/And the house upon the rock stood up,” complete with hand pantomimes representing the rainwater and floodwater. "This getsts them singing and laughing, snapping some of the chill out of the room. His subsequent address is in the style of a halftime locker-room pep talk — plainspoken, direct and charged with a sense of mission the young people, whatever their level of spiritual commitment that day, seem to respect.
Halftime speeches are something Checketts knows about, both as a gifted athlete in college and as a sports executive who, while with Madison Square Garden, ran the New York Knicks for ten years until 2001. Today he owns the Blues and a professional soccer team, Real Salt Lake in Utah.
Checketts’’ religion has come up in his work life, sometimes unpleasantly. When he was caught interviewing Phil Jackson to possibly replace Knicks’ then-head coach Jeff Van Gundy in 1999, Checketts initially denied an overture had taken place, prompting columnist Peter Vescey to dub him the “Mormon Tabernacle Liar” when Jackson’s people contradicted him. Checketts then called a press conference to acknowledge his lie and apologize to the reporter.
Benedict’’s book presents this as an example of Mormon faith in action: Sports executives saying and doing different things are common; public apologies for misleading the press are not.
“"The book makes clear we feel it’’s been a very big part of our lives,” "Checketts says of his religion. "I’’m not sure I can say it’’s been a part of my success, but it’’s a big part of my happiness. People who spend all their time on their careers end up losing everything important.”"
Checketts and the other executives profiled in Benedict’’s book spend a lot of their time on church business instead, work that doesn’’t always play to their finely honed market skills. One weekend may find Neeleman vacuuming the church after services, another may find Quigley lending a hand at primary. One week, Neeleman, Crittenden and Hawes took turns after their workdays helping repaint an apartment for the mother of a recent convert.
Benedict estimates some of these executives work between ten and fifteen hours on church business each week. Are they complaining? Far from it.
"When I was young, I went to school on weekdays watching my leaders at Deloitte, and I went to school Saturday and Sunday watching the leaders in my community,” "Quigley says. "It was an opportunity to work with people like Rod Hawes, spend three or four hours a week with them, seeing how they plan a meeting, have a focused agenda, lead a discussion, make a decision, and make sure an action committed to is actually implemented.”"
“You have so much joy from doing it,” Neeleman adds. “It gives you a greater purpose, a greater perspective.”
The toughest church assignment Checketts ever got came last spring, when a young Mormon missionary from Ridgefield was struck and killed by a drunk driver in South America. The boy’’s parents were to be notified in person; and Checketts, who had known the boy from his youth counseling, got the call.
"“I hope I never have to deal with anything harder,” "Checketts says, his voice distant and dry. "The only thing going through my mind as I walked to the front door was: ‘How do you deliver a message like this?’’ It reminded me of one of those scenes from World War II movies, when a black car pulls up, a uniformed guy steps out, and the mother runs the other way.”"
Missions are a common experience for the young Mormon. For two years, usually in the middle of college, a young man or, less often, woman, will be sent to some distant part of the world, cut off from family and friends, with one same-sex partner to help them on their journey to spread the Gospel of Christ and Book of Mormon. Two calls home are permitted each year, at Christmas and on Mother’s Day, and one letter a week. No television is permitted, as the missionary’’s sole focus is to be on church work, everything from assisting the local ward to ringing doorbells.
Rion Needs did his mission in a small Quebec town where the rate of conversions per missionary was something like 1.2, or half a body per year. "We knocked on every door, then went back twice,” he says. “But the experience is galvanizing. For many young people in our church, the conversion process is taking place while on a mission. It’’s a sense of purpose bred not by success, but by failure.”"
Benedict puts forth this same idea in explaining how Mormons succeed in business. After all, if you spend a day ringing doorbells in a Los Angeles slum or boho art colony in Amsterdam to talk to people about God, what’s left to fear?
Benedict himself was a missionary in Seattle from 1985-1987, and nearly quit halfway through. He stuck with it, and now sees the experience as having been a key to his own success as a journalist. “"The business I’’m in is so competitive, so filled with rejection, it requires an enormous amount of perseverance,"” he says. “"You have to have a willingness to deal with rejection without being discouraged.”"
Needs, Checketts, Crittenden and Neeleman all did missionary work; Quigley and the convert Hawes didn’’t. “"I think of it as a missed opportunity,” "Quigley says. “"But at that time I was in love with Bonnie. We were in a hurry to get married, and I didn’t want to spend two years away from her.”"
Bonnie is Quigley’’s wife; they have three children, as do Gary and Cathy Crittenden. Rod and Beverly Hawes and Dave and Deb Checketts have six each. If the Mormon secret to being the world’s fastest growing religion is being fruitful and multiplying, David and Vicki Neeleman exemplify that ideal best with nine offspring. “"One thing
I had trepidation about in moving East was nobody has nine kids,” "David says.
“"I was worried people would treat us differently, like we were hillbillies for having this many kids. That was not the case at all. One comment I get is ‘God bless you.’ People are so respectful.”"
While the business leaders profiled in Benedict’s book are all men, his book’s longest chapter, in fact, deals with their wives and the centering role they have in their husbands’ lives. During a talk about the book at the Westport Y’’s Men Club, Benedict was questioned about why there aren’’t any female Mormon CEOs profiled in his book.
Benedict acknowledged this as a relevant point, however true it may be that women CEOs, Mormon or otherwise, are in short supply. Yet he notes that each wife interviewed for the book made a conscious choice to lay aside any career aspirations she might have had to focus on her children and their home, often without any outside help.
“"Women are encouraged to get an education in the Mormon Church, just as men are,”" Benedict notes. "At the same time, it’’s pretty standard once they have a family, they leave the workforce and stay home.”" Many daughters among the New Canaan group are working or in college; one of Dave Checketts’’ daughters has applied to undertake a church mission of her own.
The Mormons describe New Canaan as an ideal place to raise their families, given the quality of local schools, the bucolic natural environment, and something harder to explain — what Crittenden calls “a strong sense of community” shared by families both inside and outside their church.
Hawes acknowledges the challenge of raising young Mormons in a place where there’’s still a trace of exoticism about them. There’’s a somewhat arch expression employed by many in his church, “Utah Mormons,” meaning those who grew up in a state where they are the majority and dictate the prevalent mores of the community. “"We consider this the mission field,”" Hawes says of his hometown.
But New Canaan makes for a bustling outpost.“
"Part of it is the unifying side of having so many of us together. So that, for example, there are kids at New Canaan High School who can give each other a lot of support,”" Checketts notes. “"Critical mass gives a lot of help. The LDS church is located here. Kids go on missions and come back. It’’s a great, great community, a safe community.”""