[Edit: After posting this yesterday, I went to bed thinking about things I left unsaid and yet still have in my heart, so here you have the updated version.]
My memory isn't the best, especially when it comes to certain aspects of my childhood. (I chalk it up to my numerous head injuries from bike accidents and football in my adolescence.) I do have two very vivid memories of my childhood ward, however. The first was a pair of cowboy boots I would wear to primary every week. For some reason I thought they were the coolest things ever--probably because my older cousin gave them to me. The other memory consists of people from the ward. In particular there was a young, returned missionary named Keith. He was a great guy and kind of the "darling" of the ward. He was also that area's most eligible bachelor and probably every young, single adult female's object of adoration. (He was probably that for some of the older sisters as well.)
For many reasons I looked up to this guy. He ended up marrying a young woman from outside of our ward, much to the chagrin of most of the members. But even more shocking, especially for the time (this was the early eighties), he'd married an African-American. I couldn't have been more than five or six years old (which is why I find it strange I remember this) but I distinctly recall hearing members of our ward say things about these newlyweds: "Interracial marriage is a sin." "How could he marry a black woman?" "Doesn't he know marrying someone of a different color is wrong?" Etc. I remember looking at this young lady and thinking, "But she's really nice and she's really pretty. Why wouldn't he marry her?" For a young kid I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about these comments and this wonderful couple. The more I thought, the less the comments and snide remarks made sense. Didn't the Church teach about love? If two people from different races love each other, why shouldn't they be able to get married?
Obviously at the time I was too young to know if the Church had any sort of stance on interracial marriage. I didn't understand the historical weight racial issues carried. I also had no idea that it had only been five-or-so years prior that worthy black males were officially able to receive the priesthood. I didn't think about race because, frankly, it didn't matter to me. My parents taught me to love everyone, no matter how they look, what they believe, where they're from, what language they speak, what sexual orientation they have. As a child all I understood were the basic teachings of the gospel: we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father; "As I have loved you, love one another"; and of course, the Church is true. If we were all children of God, why would members say such unkind things about a woman's skin color?
Fast forward twenty-five years to where I'm preparing a pre-packaged lesson from the aaronic priesthood manual for the priests of my ward. The class was on choosing an eternal companion and there was a quote from Spencer W. Kimball that said:
"We recommend that people marry those who are of the same racial background generally, and of somewhat the same economic and social and educational background (some of those are not an absolute necessity, but preferred), and above all, the same religious background, without question" (Emphasis mine. "Marriage and Divorce," in 1976 Devotional Speeches of the Year [Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1977], p. 144).
There it was as plain as day--confirmation in a Church published manual, from a prophet of God, nonetheless, about the Church's view on intermarriage. Now, of course President Kimball didn't say it was a sin as I'd heard those members say many years ago, but the recommendation doesn't mince words about marrying someone of the same race, economic, social, education and religious status. This quote was also given a year before the ban on blacks and the priesthood was lifted. However, the memory of Keith and his wife popped into my head and solidified even more as I looked at my wife who is from a different culture and has a different skin color than me. Needless to say, I conveniently "forgot" to read this quote from the manual as my young men's group consisted of a mixture of boys from different races. I thought it best to avoid any uncomfortable conversations about the Church and racial issues.
This year I read the Church's essay on blacks and the priesthood. My feelings were . . . mixed. At first I felt grateful that the leaders of the church has decided to set the records straight once and for all. The essay says some wonderful things:
"Today, the Church disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse, or that it reflects unrighteous actions in a premortal life; that mixed-race marriage are a sin; or that blacks or people of any other race or ethnicity are inferior in any way to anyone else. Church leaders today unequivocally condemn all racism, past and present, in any form."
"The Church proclaims that redemption through Jesus Christ is available to the entire human family on the conditions God has prescribed. It affirms that God is 'no respecter of persons' and emphatically declares that anyone who is righteous--regardless of race--is favored of Him. The teachings of the Church in relation to God's children are epitomized by a verse in the second book of Nephi: '[The Lord] denieth none that cometh unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; . . . all are alike unto God, both Jew and Gentile."
As I read I felt both relieved and at the same time torn. Here the Church is doing something it should have done ages ago by recognizing a great falsehood that had been perpetuated throughout all levels of Mormonism. But at the same time this public recognition takes a shotgun and blows a gaping hole in another widely propagated tenet--the teachings of the modern day prophets cannot steer the members astray. From the time I could sing the primary hymn, "Follow the Prophet," I learned the oft repeated theory that God would remove the prophet from his calling before he could ever lead the church astray. And here, on the Church's own website they admit that the reasoning behind racial issues and the priesthood was never based in revelation but prejudice. The essay then reiterates the current stance of the Church:
"Today, the Church disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse, or that it reflects unrighteous actions in a premortal life; that mixed-race marriages are a sin; or that blacks or people of any other race or ethnicity are inferior in any way to anyone else. Church leaders today unequivocally condemn all racism, past and present, in any form." (Race and the Priesthood, www.lds.org)
Of all my faults and failings, I feel God blessed me with one redeeming quality and that is my heart. I love people. Always have. I've never cared about color, religion, sexual orientation, or any other aspect that makes people "different." I love people because they are people. So when I found out about the racial restrictions on the priesthood, it never sat right with me. I never understood the reasoning behind it. But I distinctly remember sitting in aaronic priesthood, listening to the explanations--that those with black skin are the descendants of Cain; that they denied the priesthood in the pre-mortal life; that it was a test from God--and feeling a pit in my stomach as I thought about all of those explanations. And at the same time I thought about the other more basic principles of the gospel that I was taught--that every human born on this earth is a child of God, that God is love, full of mercy, full of forgiveness. How could a loving Father deny so many of his children the blessings of the priesthood? As these thoughts and doubts churned in my mind, I had to decide to ignore my heart and the unfairness of the situation and accept the explanations because . . . well, because they were spoken by prophets and leaders of the church in the past and "God would remove them from their callings before allowing them to lead us astray."
This essay was a huge sucker punch for me. It was my first realization that things aren't quite as they seem within the Church. If one of the greatest silver bullets "anti-Mormons" used against the Church was actually true (racism being the driving force behind blacks not receiving the priesthood), then how can any of us be certain about any other "truth" we've been taught? What about the hard issues that everyone always avoids, such as polygamy? Well, as it turns out, the Church in its fervor to be proactive, released essays on polygamy as well. (I suggest reading Rational Faith's post on Disgracing God to Save a Prophet by Lori Burkman, an extremely well-thought analysis of the polygamy essays. She said it way better than I ever could.) Better blogs than this have already written about these essays and about the problem with the "truths" we have been taught. (See this great blog post on Pure Mormonism and this one by Anonymous Bishop.) However, I feel like I need to add my voice to the many others that are unhappy with the current situation with the Church. I want to let it be known that I am not ok with the fact that we have been taught things that aren't true. I'm not ok with the fact that the majority of members refuse to see that all is not well in Zion. I'm not okay with the fact that so many things are passed off as truths when they are indeed the philosophies of men mingled with scripture.
At the end of the day, with all of the facts on the table, my question is . . . what is truth? And if this is truth, then where does that leave all of us who used to believe but now don't? Where does that leave all of the people I taught on my mission who had these questions and who received the customary (and now, as it turns out, false) explanations from my very mouth? Where does that leave the people who did and said things in support of these falsehoods? I never felt comfortable with these "doctrines," and yet as a missionary and young men's president I taught them as doctrine. I taught them as God's truths. I read them in manuals and heard them preached by men and women I respected and admired. And now, the very Church I trusted, the religion I represented as a missionary has admitted (in a roundabout way) that these things are incorrect.
While I am in full support of the Church being open and honest about its history, at the same time I find myself constantly fighting against feelings of anger and betrayal. Because on the one hand the Church has taught (and continues to teach) that the leaders "will not and . . . cannot lead [you] astray," while on the other hand minimizing the inconsistencies and contradictions that arise when analyzing issues such as blacks and the priesthood, polygamy, blood atonement, Adam-God theory, etc. In essence, the message we are receiving is, "Believe us, but don't believe our predecessors." However, if God is the same yesterday, today and forever, he NEVER would allow ANY of his prophets to lead us astray, if that were a true principle of the gospel. If the leaders of the church today can say the leaders of yesterday weren't inspired, how can we be sure that the leaders of tomorrow won't do the same concerning the leaders of today? Will we see more LDS.org essays in fifty years that attempt to brush the things that are happening today under the rug?
Either way, I do believe that one day we will know the truth--and the truth will make us free.
"Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away."
-Ismail Haniyeh
