When the Salt Lake Winter Olympics unfold next month, the world will see the Mormon Tabernacle Choir starring at the Opening Ceremony, the Mormon Temple soaring above the nightly medals presentation, and a Mormon bishop, the Games' affable organizer, welcoming athletes and guests from all over the globe.
The XIX Winter Olympics will be a showcase for Salt Lake City and the institution that dominates the city -- The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as the Mormons are formally known.
But the Games also pose a dilemma for a religion with 60,000 missionaries. How to capitalize on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to promote its message to an international audience, yet avoid a heavy hand lest they offend visitors in town just to watch the curling competition?
To combat criticism, Mormon leaders have banished their dark-suited missionaries from downtown streets, forbade them from going to the airport or Olympic venues, and instructed the 200 "missionary guides" who work at the downtown Temple Square to refrain from proselytizing.
Stephen Pace, head of a citizens group concerned about the public cost of the Games and one of the church's critics, laughed when asked if the church would have a high profile during the Games.
"From a local perspective the question is, 'Why would it be any different during the Olympics?' " said Pace, a local business consultant. "The church has never shown much of a gift for having a light touch with anything. "
The LDS Church is an inescapable fixture on Utah's landscape. This city and the state have been, for more than 150 years, world headquarters for what is now the world's fastest-growing religion.
More than 70 percent of the state's 2.2 million population is at least nominally Mormon (1.8 percent of the U.S. population is Mormon), although in Salt Lake City the figure is less than 50 percent. The state's entire congressional delegation is Mormon, as is the governor and 90 percent of the state Legislature, all of the state Supreme Court justices and 85 percent of Utah's mayors and county officials. Even the local television station that will broadcast the Games is owned by the church.
The church's influence in Utah's secular life is a subject of constant debate; Mormon leaders are not reluctant to weigh in on political issues. Some say the line between church and state is blurred.
Although the church itself was officially neutral during the bidding process, church-owned businesses donated $211,000 to Salt Lake City's successful campaign to host the Games. Since then, the church has donated millions of dollars and loaned substantial tracts of land to the Games.
"Clearly the reputation of Utah, the reputation of Salt Lake City and the reputation of the church is tied up together," said Michael Otterson, the church's chief spokesman. "Because this community is so strongly identified with the Mormon Church, we have to try and debunk the Mormon Games thing. We understand why it's there, but it's not fair or accurate. This is a religious organization. It's not a commercial organization looking to market its goods."
Mitt Romney, the head of the Salt Lake Organizing Committee and a Mormon bishop, has been patiently dealing with this topic for months. His responses illustrate the knife-edge community leaders here walk: Acknowledge the church's prominence, but don't over-emphasize it.
"From our point of view, it's not an opportunity to convert people, it's more of an opportunity to educate and inform," said Otterson.
Mormons understand they must define themselves to a skeptical world. The church-owned daily newspaper here has already anticipated media portrayals of Mormon culture: "They'll talk about how wholesome we are and point out the irony of our role in the biggest scandal in Olympic history," the Deseret News editorialized. "They'll walk over to [the mall] and buy that old standby, the 'Eat, Drink and Be Merry For Tomorrow You May Be in Utah' shot glass. At some point they'll mention Donny Osmond. We'll emerge as caricatures of ourselves."