“What I can’t recall with any great specificity is the date or time I learned about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints having placed priesthood and temple restrictions for people of Black African descent prior to 1978.
- …Now, I don’t believe anyone was intentionally trying to keep information from me or deceive me in any way. I think it’s an uncomfortable part of the Church’s history,…
…in an attempt to minimize pain and hurt, we forget to learn how to sit in the discomfort caused by the priesthood and temple restriction, demonstrating our understanding that no man-made explanation can alleviate the pain of it and have it emerge as tidy. This would be another place to start; a helpful step is to learn to simply acknowledge the hurt, and then try to point others to our Savior as the only truly stabilizing source on which to lean, with speculative reasons being so messy.
I suppose that the prevailing thought in the minds of many may be that since the restriction no longer presents a barrier for
Black people to receive and participate in the fullness of the gospel-including all the ordinances and covenants of the gospel — then why place a stumbling block on someone’s covenant path? A stumbling block is a circumstance that causes difficulty or hesitation. And truthfully, I understand this perspective to a large extent, given that I don’t believe that the restriction’s historical reality should stop any person (Black or other-wise) from joining Christ’s Church, fellow-shipping within His flock, and enjoying His covenant relationship. But don’t misunderstand; I don’t encourage keeping this information from each other. I wholeheartedly trust in the Spirit of God to overcome any concern and guide our Father’s children to bind ourselves to Jesus Christ through the ordinances of His gospel found only in His Church.
…We don’t have to mistakenly put ourselves in place of the miracles that the Spirit brings, believing that our silence on uncomfortable topics will somehow soothe a potential wound. God promises that “[He] will not to leave [us] comfortless,” but assuredly “[He] will come to [us]” (John 14:18).
…in our attempts to help gather God’s children to His gospel and His Church, we need to be careful that our efforts innocently meant to assist others in navigating challenging topics don’t themselves become stumbling blocks of our making (see Romans 14:13).
…as I’ve been able to have the advantage of inspecting the fruits of my obedience, I’ve learned that where God tells you that you belong, allow no man—including your own natural man—to convince you otherwise. Go where He tells you and leave it to Him to resolve the limited understanding of others, as well as your own in the present. His will always counsels us to follow God and then wait upon Him.
…Occasionally communicating defensiveness, we tell an incomplete story in an attempt to make that history fit cleanly into modern-day, secular patterns whose roots lie in our existence in a fallen world. Both are limiting and offer no sustainable healing.
Speaking now to the latter of those two positions, I tend to believe that much of the world’s history has shaped the experience for God’s children of color, particularly God’s Black children, as a life that has many unfortunate moments to be endured rather than purely enjoyed. As a result, many Black people approach the uncomfortable truths about our place in history, or our place in shared institutions, with a touch of expecting bad news. It’s the dark cloud off in the distance that’s earmarked for some future discomfort.
…As a diaspora people, we’ve had enough historical experience with the commotion of dark clouds. They create confusion like a lesson not quite learned and doomed to be repeated. We’re all too familiar with the sound of that unpleasant echo, following closely behind us as we’re trying to get out of the tunnel. The material world is strewn with stumbling blocks that Black people navigate almost daily, from everyday mundane tasks to more serious, life-threatening circumstances.
…desire for abundant life is a
foundational aspiration that we all share, regardless of our backgrounds. But to me, one of the saddest realities is that Black people are very rarely surprised when we encounter obstruction on the way toward our abundancy of life. We may be outraged, we may be wearied-but, as a people, we’re infrequently surprised by it. The fallen world can at times be a battle to try to not lose our balance. Consequently, we’re eager to search for refuge from a world built of sand and clay. And I think for most of us, this is a hope we have in church. In a community of faith. A hope for sanctuary in a spiritual world. A hope for tools that help us navigate our way when aspects of these worlds, at times, collide.
My spiritual world, as a new convert, was filled to the brim with loving and lovely Church members who taught me gospel truths and bore powerful testimonies of Jesus Christ and His love for all God’s children. But there were times when people outside of the Church would make attempts to pit those testimonies against their understanding of Church history. Or even times when, sadly, members of the Church would be thoughtless and careless with their words and actions that did not demonstrate consistent honoring of my identity as a child of God, and as their sister in Christ. On the lightest end of my experiences, I would be chided for joining a “white” church, even though I was fortunate in that my Church family reflected the global nature of the gospel, as well as the wonderful diversity of the New York City community that I lived in. Many of my leaders and friends were certainly white, but many were also Filipino, Polynesian, Latino, Korean, or Caribbean. They taught me that “all are alike unto God” (2 Nephi 26:33) and that the
“worth of [my soul] is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10). That “there is no gift greater than the gift of salvation” (D&C 6:13) and that God offers freely (see 2 Nephi 2:4). They taught me that I could have all our Heavenly Father and our Savior Jesus Christ have (see D&C 132:19-20).
And because of their witness and instruction, my life expanded through the gospel of Jesus Christ. The doctrine of Christ brought excitement, vibrancy, and meaning to everything. And moreover, every gospel truth I was taught was then confirmed and reaffirmed, many times, by the Holy Spirit that is present in my life.
On the heavier end of the spectrum, people would share what seemed like sound bites about the priesthood and temple restrictions— snippets of information that didn’t feel like they were meant to be helpful, but rather to counter my personal conversion experience with skepticism and dismissal. At times I have struggled through Sunday meetings where ideas, attitudes, and teachings about race and/or the priesthood and temple restrictions, long abandoned by the Church and its leaders, were shared. But truthfully, these latter ordeals were the most personally challenging for me, because I hadn’t yet developed a reservoir of spiritual experience in finding peace through our Savior when I was facing the seemingly inconsolable.
…It was threatening to crumble my trust, pitting my perceptions against the omniscience of God. I felt as if the weight of it might crush my chest or cause me to choke. I was left searching for something tangible to catch hold of and struggling not to lose my way.
…At times I have struggled through Sunday meetings where ideas, attitudes, and teachings about race and/or the priesthood and temple restrictions, long abandoned by the Church and its leaders, were shared. But truthfully, these latter ordeals were the most personally challenging for me, because I hadn’t yet developed a reservoir of spiritual experience in finding peace through our Savior when I was facing the seemingly inconsolable.
…It was threatening to crumble my trust, pitting my perceptions against the omniscience of God. I felt as if the weight of it might crush my chest or cause me to choke. I was left searching for something tangible to catch hold of and struggling not to lose my way.
To not wander off and be lost in the thick of it. But that collision, ultimately, allowed me to deeply “know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
…Going through the mist when considering the priesthood and temple restrictions might look like examining the limited historical record against the light and lens of modern-day truth found in abundance in the scriptures, along with the words of modern-day prophets and apostles.
That journey through the mist may be shorter for some and longer for others. Our individual experiences and feelings as we consider how to press forward through that mist may be different. I’ve found appreciation and similarities to my own experience as I’ve read of President Dallin H. Oaks’s process of prayerfully studying the speculative reasons for the priesthood and temple restrictions. He said, “I studied the reasons then being given and could not feel confirmation of the truth of any of them.”” When I similarly studied Church materials and historical documents that surrounded the priesthood and temple restrictions, I did not feel the Spirit confirm truth about what was detailed. In fact, what would consistently be placed in my mind and then confirmed, reconfirmed, and reaffirmed, were the gospel truths that were taught to me in my early years of discipleship. Namely, that “all are alike unto God” (2 Nephi 26:33) and that the “worth of [my soul] is great in the sight of God” (D&C 18:10).
That “there is no gift greater than the gift of salvation” (D&C 6:13), and that God offers it freely (see 2 Nephi 2:4). That I could have all our Heavenly Father and our Savior Jesus Christ have (see D&C 132:19-20).
…There will come a point, in all the emotional capital expended to go through our challenges, even on something like coming to a full view of the priesthood and temple restrictions, where we are promised that there is a way to emerge and come forward into the warmth of the sun.
Be believing in the promise. And then when you’re there, finally feeling like you can breathe again, and finally having your vision restored-like stepping out of a darkened room and into the light-savor all the sweetness that only Jesus Christ can offer.
Rejoice in it. Weep over it. And thank God for it.
…As is true in the present, so it was in ancient times, that not everyone will understand, respect, or value the choices you make to come to know God. And taking your eyes off the Savior in order to entertain their judgments and speculations about your walk toward Jesus Christ ultimately leaves you exposed to drifting away from your hard-fought testimony. For me, as discussed earlier, that represented the many who were either trying to shame me for joining such a “white” church or whose
“sound bites” on the Church’s priesthood and temple restrictions were meant only to dismiss my earnest testimony about the experience I had walking to the tree of life.
The secular world will always have a “great and spacious building” filled with people who will be your friend only if you join them in the scoffing of faith. But common sense tells me that a building suspended in the air, with no solid foundation, sounds like questionable craftsmanship and is doomed to come crashing down at some point. Nothing significant exists there. No greater truth, no brighter light, no lasting joy that we should trade for the tree and the fruit. Be not ashamed; you’re choosing the better path.
JESUS CHRIST OVERCAME THE WORLD, AND SO CAN WE
God told me when I was sixteen years old that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was His Church. That the Book of Mormon was His word. That prophets and apostles still lived and guided His work. That I was to gather myself with His people, in the water and in the temple, and make covenants with Him. He told me that I belonged; that I was His. That I was purchased with the blood of our Savior Jesus Christ. That my inheritance was eternal life with God the Father, and God the Son.
And He told me that the melanin in my skin, or the skin of my children, or the skin of my ancestors, would never change these truths. Not even an uncomfortable part of the Church’s history can change it. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not racist, and He stands at the head of His Church. And I know that whenever His children are in peril of being lost to the mist, the rod of iron is available to provide clarity and to keep us pressing forward toward the tree of life.
I’m not ashamed to be a member of Christ’s Church. I could never cast my eyes downward in shame after every miracle, every personal revelation, after every communication I’ve had from the source of all truth, whose name is “Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). The world may not ever understand how a Black woman could joyfully join herself with this community of believers of Christ, even when I bear my soul through spiritual testimony. What I struggle to understand is why these same people never seem to have questions about my life in the secular world, with its own expansive history of sorrow and pain toward my people. I guess somehow the daily decisions I make to navigate or circumvent the land mines found in that world make sense to them, but somehow the reality of God assuring me that He will always support me in His sanctuary does not. And in His sanctuary, we are promised that “whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God” (Ether
12:4).
I rejoice in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ that has the audacity to speak boldly that God would save His children. That sings to us, “Fear not, little children, for you are mine, and I have overcome the world..; and none of them that my Father hath given me shall be lost” (D&C 50:41-
42). I sit in awe at this Church that taught this most hopeful truth as a whisper inside of the howling of the prevailing teachings that exclaimed there to be only one heaven and one hell. I weep with joy at the kindness and mercy of our God who provides us with liberation and escape from our deepest sorrows. Who invites us to hold fast to Him, feel how solid He is, and to stand on His firm foundation. To be brought to gaze upon the effulgence of His horizon, and then to partake of His most desirable fruit.
He knows you must be hungry. He understands that the climb can be harrowing for you. But look down and see where your hand is. It’s still firmly holding fast to His.”
