Manti, Utah

The Manti Temple is rather special to me. For one thing, my ancestors lived in Sanpete County (in which is found said Manti Temple) and to this day I still have relatives out there. My family has received the ordinances in this temple since its dedication to the present day (although it’s not a very strict tradition). So, you know. It’s a personal favorite.

The first thing you’ll notice is that its architecture looks like a more elaborate version of the Logan Temple.

The towers remind me a bit of a miniature and simplified version of the Louvre:

That sort of rounded, broad tower roof with a sawed-off top. Indeed, the temple shows a more French influence than most other temples. I wonder if the interior of the Paris, France Temple will have as much of a historically French influence as this one, actually.

In each of those two towers is a five-story spiral staircase, handmade with  no joints. They are rare in the United States—I understand they are among the only of their kind in the United States.

The oolite limestone used for the exterior gives the temple its characteristic cool creamy color. Sometimes it’s stunning to see a blindingly white temple, but I love this off-white. There’s something homey about it. And really, that’s the charm of this temple for me—even if I didn’t have family connections to it, it feels like it’s operated by your favorite cousins. The temple workers (at least when I was there) take the time to talk to you, offer to show you around, and just generally smile more and make you feel more at home.

One unique aspect of this temple is that it is one of the only ones I have been in that has a little temple museum. It’s only accessible with a temple recommend, so bear that in mind, but it’s worth seeing. One of the items, a very old, very large Bible that I want to say was used at the dedication ceremony (I forget exactly), was of particular interest to me.

Another is the fact that it is one of only two temples that still performs a live endowment (the other is Salt Lake). And there’s just something very sweet about the elderly temple workers acting out a live endowment.

And a bit of its history: it was the third temple build by the Saints in Utah, dedicated just two years before the fourth, the Salt Lake Temple, was completed. Its original pioneer-crafted interior is still intact (unlike Logan’s and St. George’s), and like Logan, it uses five progressive endowment rooms, counting the Celestial Room. This does limit the number of endowments that can be done in one day, but the rooms are larger and accommodate many more people than most other temples I have been to (exceptions: Salt Lake and Oakland).

There are many very spiritual stories about this temple, but I think the best to tell is the one about Moroni. According to the story, after the battle at the Hill Cumorah, Moroni wandered alone around the continent for many years before finally depositing the plates in present-day New York at the end of his life. In his wanderings, he came through central Utah, where he saw a hill. In a vision, he saw a temple built on that hill, so he dedicated the land for the eventual building of a temple and then wandered on. Today, the Manti Temple stands on the land he dedicated. So, if that story is true, then the Manti Temple is the only one whose land was dedicated by a prophet from a different dispensation. There is a stained glass panel in the temple depicting this scene (I think it’s in the museum—I can’t recall).

Let’s walk through it, shall we? These pictures are from older magazine sources (its rededication in the 1980s), so their quality may not always be the best.

Although this doesn’t show much, this hallway is actually gorgeous. The small image only hints at the beautiful moldings or the height of the ceiling.

This hallway leads to the chapel, and thence to the Creation Room.

At least, I am fairly confident that this is the Creation Room.

These murals were painted by Minerva Teichert, who is among my favorite LDS painters. A better sample of hers:

Hence to the Garden Room:

As you can see, this temple actually utilizes pews rather than individual chairs, as most temples do. These photos are taken from a fair height, so they don’t show how tall that ceiling is. Imagine sitting in that bench and realize that the doorway is probably several feet over your head.

Hence to the Telestial Room:

This one is kind of tough to see. It’s a different take on a Telestial Room. Usually, the murals here would be of nature in its fallen state—animals fighting, lightning-blasted trees, storm clouds, and the like. In this temple, Sister Teichert gives us a scene of humanity in our fallen state. The castle on the right is the backdrop to a procession of people in fine clothes and upturned noses, past the shadowy forms of the poor on the ground.

I thought at first that it was a Native American Christ over the altar, but I have come to understand that Teichert intended that to be a Native American chief welcoming the Europeans to the Americas (notice the ships to the right, and remember the European castle in the previous picture). It’s kind of poignant, because you saw which Europeans were in a procession toward the ships in the above photo—not the nice ones. That’s my interpretation, anyway.

To the Terrestrial Room:

The former picture is the Terrestrial Room as it now stands; the latter picture is a historical photo. All that has changed, so far as I can tell, are the curtains. I admit, I prefer the newer. I love the Corinthian columns and the fact that it is actually necessary to ascend a small set of stairs to get to the Celestial Room. The seating configuration is also atypical. There are pews facing the Celestial Room, but there are also pews perpendicular to it, facing the altar.

And on to the Celestial Room.

Architecturally, there isn’t much of a difference between the Terrestrial Room and the Celestial Room except for the brighter color and the higher elevation (symbolizing the higher nature of the Celestial Kingdom—one ascends into it from the Terrestrial). Through here, one can access what I argue is the most beautiful sealing room in any temple:

Wait, what is this? I have a decent-quality modern image of this room?

Well, so I have! This captures the beautiful color scheme of the room—the pale blues and teals against the cream and gold. I always thought I would be sealed here, but Salt Lake was the place to be. This room is actually quite small, so sealings can be problematic if you want to bring a large family along. I’m not actually sure if they even use this room for live sealings anymore.

This is Manti’s Assembly Hall—sadly, in the same low quality as most of the rest.

And here is one of the five-story spiral staircases (first image is looking down from the top, second image is looking up from the bottom). And here, I’ll finish up with the rest of the images I’ve gathered over the years:

Another sealing room

The Baptistry (historical)

The Baptistry (1980s)