MrShorty

I agree that all of these different people exist. I find myself disliking what is said by the strident, "Russell Nelson is no prophet of any God I care to follow" types, because I don't feel like they help me find a foothold on this slippery slope. I find that I like people like Patrick Mason who (for example) publicly says that he doesn't believe that the priesthood and temple ban is of divine origin, but still wants to support the church and its leaders. I think it would be unfair to him and others like him to lump him in with those who stridently claim that Pres. Nelson is not a prophet, but I know there are some who would try to push Mason and others like him into the same end of the continuum. I don't know how the orthodox members of the church ought to manage discerning who is a sincere doubter from the strident unbelievers, but it seems like an important endeavor. I think I've said before that this journey feels like the proverbial slippery slope. My own discernment around who is a "sincere doubter" vs. the "strident disbeliever" is usually based on who is helping me find footholds, which is probably not a good vantage point for telling everyone else how to discern who fits where on the spectrum. That said, I really appreciate you and anyone who is willing to embrace and encourage a fellow Saint wrestling with doubts and questions and concerns. I think the absolute worst feeling on this journey is the feeling that your fellow co-religionists are thinking (or even say) something like, "don't let the door hit you on the butt on the way out." Might just have to agree to disagree, but I find this is at the heart of most of my own doubts and concerns and questions (yes, and even the things I reject). In a church led by prophets and apostles built on the rock of revelation, when prophets make mistakes, it can call into question other claims that prophets and apostles have made. A statement like Goff shared that implies a kind of "de facto infallibility" status on the prophets feels like it misses so many of the issues.

My first reaction when I first saw this: Most histories I see claim that Martin Luther never wanted nor intended to separate from Catholicism when he first wrote his 95 theses (and maybe nailed them to the door of the church). But, for some reason, others in Catholicism, rather than engage with Luther's doubts and concerns and criticisms, chose to push him out of the Catholic church which led to the Reformation (obviously, I'm simplifying/oversimplifying the history). In the same way, it really seems to me that the conservative LDS church, when faced with "LDS Protestant" doubts and concerns and criticisms tend to call "wolf in sheep's clothing" or some such rather than really engage and wrestle and struggle with the "LDS Protestant's" doubts and concerns and criticisms. In this respect, I think Goff's observation is likely true. A "schism" is on the horizon. It sometimes seems to me that Goff and other ultraorthodox like him insist that the LDS Protestants bear all the blame for the coming schism and never want to consider their own role in promoting said schism. I think one of the most frustrating ideas that comes from them is a call for "progmos" to hurry up and leave the church, because it's inevitable (somehow) and the church has no place for progressives (or doubters or some such). I find it interesting that Goff chooses a quote about following the prophet as if the prophet cannot make any mistakes. I find that almost all of my own "LDS Protestant" views center around the question of prophetic fallibility and what God expects us to believe and do in the face of prophetic errors. I'm no Luther, so won't go publishing my own theses, but, if I did, they would probably center around the exact same issue that Goff chooses to highlight here. I suppose we'll see what happens. I found it interesting in my reading of Paul Reeve's history of the priesthood and temple ban that he noted that the LDS church avoided the schisms the plagued other Protestant denominations around the race and slavery issues, in spite of having plenty of people on both sides of that particular divide. Perhaps Goff is wrong and maybe the church will figure out how to keep people together in spite of such a divisive issue. If there are bridges to be found, I doubt that Goff will be the one to find and build those bridges (someone mentioned Givens -- he might be able to do it, though).

I had heard this before. I don't think I heard it as a youth, it was sometime after growing up, but I don't recall exactly when I first heard it.

@JohnsonJones The parallel I see in your law school analogy from the post I made earlier is that those who drop out of law school for whatever reason haven't settled for something lesser. They may go on to be doctors or teachers or sales people or business owners or plumbers or mechanics (gasp trades?) or some other career. It isn't (or shouldn't be) something "lesser" to take on a different career. Lawyer might be the "celestial" career, but terrestial (teacher, maybe?) or telestial (dcotor or trade) are also acceptable careers. The key is to choose which career you will be happiest in. As I tried to explain earlier, what strikes me when Pres. Oaks (and others) describe this version of the 3 kingdoms is that they appear to line up horizontally (all kingdoms are equally desirable) rather than vertically (kingdoms ranked as most desirable to least desirable). The key is finding the kingdom where you will be happiest.

I don't know if any of this will make sense, but I'll share my reaction to Pres. Oaks' description of the degrees of glory. tl:dr -- it begins to feel very universalist to me. It has been often observed that the early saints were reluctant to accept "the Vision" (D&C 76) because, to them, it was too universalist. To some degree, Pres. Oaks is showing ways that we can interpret this in a universalist sense. Read on if you want to try to make sense of my thinking (don't worry, I'm not sure it makes sense to me, so no shame if it doesn't make sense). At the facetious, tongue in cheek level, I envisioned Garth Brooks talking to God about preferring his Friends in Low Places or Randy Travis talking about spending eternity with a Better Class of Loser. Or any number of other country songs singing about an active choice to live a (stereotypical) lower-class lifestyle over a (stereotypical) upper class lifestyle. Elder Holland famously said (if memory serves as part of an interview with PBS/NPR): I don't know how intentional Elder Holland was in choosing "my" over "a" in this statement, but I think we all generally assume that he was speaking of Patricia, Matthew, Mary Alice, and David. Since my wife and children have left the church, I have sometimes tried to imagine "sad heaven" type scenarios. For now, let's just say I'm not sure if I won't be happier living alone in a cottage in the same neighborhood as my wife and children than I would be living in a mansion with someone who married me (and I married her) just for my (her) righteousness so we could live in a big house on a hill. (I acknowledge a certain caricaturieness (word??), but I think it helps make the point.) The way Pres. Oaks talks here, wherever I end up in the next life, it's where I will happiest. So, by definition (or tautology or circular reasoning, I'm not sure which), I am assured to end up in "heaven," (because "heaven" is where I will be happiest). Maybe "heaven" for me is not Celestial (though, I don't know that I can say that out loud in our high demand religion that wants everyone to aspire to the highest degree of the Celestial kingdom). Of course, that is the common criticism of universalism -- people who aren't aspiring to the highest aren't always inspired to keep all the rules and laws and commandments with exactness. I don't know, friends. The universalist inside of me likes what Pres. Oaks said. The part of me that grew up in a high demand religion that insisted I should aspire to nothing less than everything the Father has is less comfortable with what he said.

@Ironhold That's what the reports I'm seeing are saying, too. Kliavkoff's inability to secure a media rights deal that everyone liked was what eventually drove the U and other universities to jump ship. But what can he do, really? If the media outlets were unwilling to pay what the Pac-12 (when it was the Pac-12) thought it was worth, then there isn't much to be done. Capitalism is often a cutthroat way of doing business. Ultimately, what does it really mean? Maybe that the Pac-12 brand wasn't as valuable as was thought?

I'm seeing reports tonight that the U, along with the Arizona schools, are going to the Big 12 and a couple of the Pac NW schools are going to the Big 10, leaving only 4 members of the PAC 12 still in the PAC 12. Not sure what to make of this. https://www.ksl.com/article/50701889/utah-accepts-invitation-to-join-big-12-in-2024-after-board-of-trustees-vote

My thoughts upon completion. It was a difficult read. This history is heavy. I find myself further convinced, with Reeves (and Mason and Woodward and a growing body of other faithful LDS), that this aspect of our history is not of divine origin. I also recognize that this, in the end, is a major point of contention and disagreement around this issue. In keeping with the opening disclaimer, I don't know how many of Reeves' subjective interpretations and opinions that are present throughout the book are the interpretations and opinions of the Church or its leaders or its members. In the end, I still find myself "dissatisfied" (if that is the right word) with the justifications and explanations that are given. More and more, this issue feels like something that will fall under "problem of evil" type of questions that just don't have good, satisfying answers or explanations. Maybe we can only hope to have conversations around these issues that help us wrestle with the problems and questions and issues in a way that allows our faith to remain intact in some form. Perhaps all we can really do is try to learn from this history, and try to do better in the future as we grow towards Zion and celestial society.

Chapters 17 to end: Chapter 17 is kind of the end of the "documentary history" portion of the book. Chapter 17 is a brief look at what led up to the '78 revelation (appears to pull largely from Ed Kimball's history) told in parallel to the story of a Freda Beaulieu, who was able to receive her temple blessings in July of '78 after years of faithful isolation from the church. Chapter 18 to the end is where Reeves shares his opinions about the sticky questions and implications that come out of this particular part of our history. In Chapter 18, Reeves states that he does not believe in any kind of "divine origin" for the ban. He talks about the post-78 justifications that we use to rationalize the existence of the ban today. He identifies 4: 1) Gospel spreads in stages, trying to draw a parallel between "first to the Jews, then the Gentiles" so that we claim "first to the Whites, then the Blacks" 2) God's restricting priesthood to Whites is a parallel to God restricting priesthood to the tribe of Levi. 3) 19th century America was so racist that something bad would have happened to the church if it had been inclusive and desegregated. 4) Everyone was racist in the 19th century, so 19th century saints just did not or could not know better. Reeves explains why he rejects each of these justifications. One gets the impression that Reeves may not believe there is a "justification" for the priesthood ban. In Chapters 19 and 20, Reeves gives his explanation (I don't think he would call it a justification, though) for the ban. Basically, he chalks it up to agency and human frailty and the idea that God does not always intervene when bad things happen -- even if the bad thing that is happening is due to the choices and frailties and misunderstandings of His prophets and apostles. In chapters 21 and 22, Reeves turns from looking at the past to looking at the future, emphasizing how the church has progressed out of and hopefully beyond its past, regressive beliefs. He talks about his testimony of the Savior and how He can heal us of our errors and help us grow and progress to new and better understandings of issues related to race, with hope and encouragement that we as a people will take the call to "root our racism" seriously. Throughout these last chapters, Reeves emphasizes his status as a believer with a solid testimony of the Restoration and modern prophets in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I think he wants to assure readers that, while this is heavy, difficult history, it need not break our shelves or crush our testimonies.

Chapters 15 and 16: In these chapters, Reeves highlights some of the "disagreements" within the church over the racial restrictions. He mentions Pres. G. A. Smith's 1949 1st Presidency statement and Pres. D. O. McKay's 1969 First Presidency statement, as well as Elder McConkie's Mormon Doctrine. He also documents several examples (mostly from Latin America) of how difficult it was in some places to identify those with Black African ancestry and restrict them from receiving priesthood and temple ordinances. All of this brings us to the end of phase 2 and prepares us for 1978 and phase 3 -- returning to racial inclusivity.

Chapters 12, 13, 14: these chapters take us quickly through the late 19th into the early 20th centuries, showing a broad trend of uncertainty around the ban with examples of some mixed race people receiving full temple blessings and some who don't (Jane Manning James is in this part of the story). As precedent gets more and more firmly entrenched, we go from John Taylor's uncertainty to Joseph F. Smith being the first to fully write out a policy that blanketly restricts anyone with any know black African ancestry no matter the degree from priesthood and temple privileges. This section even includes anecdotes of segregated congregations where faithful Black members were not allowed to worship in the same meetings as white members. I hope the book has hit bottom. Looking forward, the next few chapters appear to be moving into discussing the lead up to the '78 revelation, so I hope it gets better from here.

Chapters 9, 10, 11: This is where it gets hard. 9 focused on the issue of interracial marriage. The main storyline follows a William Appleby who was sent by church leaders to survey the branches on the East Coast. During his travels, he encountered an interracial marriage in Massachusetts, found the situation appalling, and took his concerns to Brigham Young and church leaders. Following popular beliefs of the day ( Reeves cites a Josiah Nott who was an anthropologist firmly opposed to interracial marriages), church leaders agree with Appleby. Reeves suggests that one major motivation for implementing the restrictions was to dissuade against interracial marriages. 10. Covers the 1852 legislative session when Utah Territory codified its acceptance of slavery, notably against the opposition led by Orson Pratt. BY uses his belief in a curse of Cain type doctrine to justify slavery and also restrict Blacks from holding the priesthood. Reeves notes that BY gives no explanation for his change in attitude from a few years before. 11. Turns attention to Orson Pratt. In the prior chapter, Pratt seems a hero, because he seemed so opposed to slavery. In this chapter, Reeves recounts how Pratt introduced the "neutral/less valiant in the preexistence" justification for race based restrictions. Some heavy stuff here. I recall from podcasts featuring Reeves that he told DB when they approached him for this project that he insisted on being able to include stuff from the 1852 legislative session, no matter how hard it would be to read in the 21st century. Reeves mentions the 2013 disavowal a few times as well, but he otherwise doesn't seem to be holding back. Stuff was said and stuff was disavowed and we just have to sit and wrestle with it.

Chapters 6, 7, 8: Chapter 6 focuses on what Reeves calls "Universalism" (meaning universal access to priesthood and temple ordinances) in Nauvoo, with the example of a Sarah Ann Mode, who was mixed race from Phillidelphia, PA, joins the church sometime after census records start listing her as "white," eventually receiving full temple ordinances. According to Reeves, she is the earliest example we currently have of a Black person receiving full temple ordinances. Chapter 7 looks at Winter Quarters after leaving Nauvoo -- in particular the case of William McCary. This account shows how some of the attitudes towards race started changing in the church (McCary wasn't the most upstanding of characters). In chapter 8, Reeves focuses on the scriptural proof texts and interpretations that were used by other Christians and 19th century Latter-day Saints that informed the (flawed??) understanding of race and the supremacy of the white race and the inferiority of all other races. Reeves seems rather sour on these interpretations of the texts, much preferring other interpretations. One aspect he highlights that stood out to me was he noted how the abolitionist/anti-abolitionist divide in the US split other Christian denominations, but the LDS church managed to stay together in spite of differing opinions by many within the faith. This is the end of Reeves' Phase 1 description. I wonder if Reeves has overstated the case for "universal," desegregated access and underplayed the racist beliefs of the 19th century saints in order to emphasize his point. Next time we start into Phase 2 -- the implementation of a race based segregation as far as priesthood ordination and temple participation goes.

Chapters 3, 4, 5: Historical settings that illustrate some of the dynamics of the 1830s and 40s. Chapter 3 goes briefly through the Missouri era. He focuses quite a bit on W. W. Phelps publication of an article in his paper that local Missourians (remember that Missouri was a pro-slave state) felt was too racially inclusive -- an event that Reeves highlights as "the beginning of the Saints expulsion from Jackson County" and, eventually, the state of Missouri. Chapter 4 is a very quick synopsis of the same racial attitudes he describes in much more detail in Religion of a Different Color. Chapter 5 focuses on the specific issue of slavery, noting amongst other things how the issue of slavery split other Christian denominations along north/south lines (like the Baptists), but somehow the Latter-day Saints managed to stay together as a group. Reeves says at the end of chapter 5: It can seem that, though the issues have changed, the church is still trying to figure out how to create a unified church while welcoming people of competing and conflicting and contradictory ideologies.

Chapters 1 and 2: Basically documenting a few examples (including well known examples like Elijah Able) of early black converts. Chapter 1 covers free black converts from the northern US, and chapter 2 covers enslaved black converts (with passing mention of enslavers) from the southern US. The basic idea behind these first chapters is to show that,

I'm not sure of the exact provenance of the account (I've tracked it back to an early Mormon Stories episode 271-274 while it was still nuanced rather than just anti) of Dr. Dan Petersen who served on the curriculum committee for a while. As a joke, he suggested this passage with discussion questions like, "Have you ever killed anyone with a Sacrament meeting speech? What could you do better in the future to avoid this?" The story goes that it made it past correlation and into the final proof gallies. When Dr. Petersen saw the galley proofs, he called someone up and suggested that part be taken out.

Introduction Most of the introduction is anecdotes involving a Ritchie family. The "patriarch" of the family, Nelson, is mixed race born into slavery. He escapes slavery, marries a white woman, becomes a businessman/hotel owner, and joins the church. Reeves describes how various members of the Ritchie family, including the patriarch himself, received priesthood and temple blessings well before 1978. Reeves also explains that he is going to approach this history in 3 phases. Phase 1 he describes as the early years of the restoration when priesthood and temple blessings were available to all. Phase 2 is the period where the priesthood and temple ban is implemented "in fits and starts" until 1978. Phase 3 is the period after the revelation in 1978 which Reeves describes as a return to the original idea of universal access to these blessings for all.

I just got a copy of Let's Talk About Race and the Priesthood by Paul Reeves (library ebook), and will be starting to read it. I'm expecting that this will be a difficult slog, even if it will be a relatively short book, and wanted to have a place to share some thoughts as I go through the book. I'm not going into this entirely blind. I have read Reeves' previous book, Religion of a Different Color. I have also listened to a few podcasts that Reeve did when this book was first published by Deseret Book. At present, I have read the disclaimer -- The views expressed are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of the Church or Deseret Book. I have also read the forward by Darius Gray, which was well done and provides a compelling start from someone who joined the church in spite of the restriction and has a powerful view of this issue. Doesn't it give you nice warm fuzzy feelings to think that I chose ThirdHour for this?

At the risk of derailing something, I recently decided to revisit another old sci-fi favorite of mine -- Asimov's Foundation series. In getting started, I found something at Wikipedia written by a Tim O'Reilly that claims, "Dune is clearly a commentary on the Foundation trilogy. Herbert has taken a look at the same imaginative situation that provoked Asimov's classic—the decay of a galactic empire—and restated it in a way that draws on different assumptions and suggests radically different conclusions. The twist he has introduced into Dune is that the Mule, not the Foundation, is his hero." Just thought this an interesting way that a couple of my favorite old sci-fi classics are linked. Wikipedia link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foundation_series

I don't know if I can communicate my thoughts coherently, but, hey, this is the internet which is full of all kinds of incoherent stuff, so who cares if I fail. Interestingly, my first thought goes way back decades to Jr. High in Utah in the early '80s. For those who have not, yet heard of the weather comparisons for this year to those years, we had a few years of high precipitation that was leading to the Great Salt Lake rising above levels that people were comfortable with. I recall a social studies teacher taking a small jab at the Utah legislature for passing a law forbidding the GSL from rising above a certain level. What was the state going to do? Cuff the GSL and haul it off to prison if it rose too high? In the same way, does Uganda think that it can stop people from being LGBT+ by making a law that criminalizes being gay? Of course, I know that such legislation can be more nuanced. In the case of the GSL, of course the state wasn't simply criminalizing the lake's size. I was young, so I don't remember the details, but I expect that such legislation would provide guidance and resources to people and agencies and communities for flood control and mitigation and other ways of dealing with the possibilities around the lake getting too large/high. In the case of the Ugandan legislation, I'm not sure why the legislation exists. The description in the Yahoo piece seems to only describe criminal punishments (fines/incarceration) for violators, but nothing that really addresses that there will inevitably be people who are gay in Uganda. In the same way that, when all you have is a hammer everything looks like a nail, when you are thinking in terms of criminal law, everything undesirable wants to carry a consequence of fines or imprisonment, but it seems to me that the legislation has no purpose other than to add reasons for the long arm of the law to impose fines or imprison people. My thoughts -- and probably worth about what you paid for them.

However we may each individually vote, I just saw on the Church newsroom that Pres. Nelson and company have voted (very strongly) for 9 April/Western Easter. https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/latter-day-saints-to-celebrate-easter-with-single-christ-centered-worship-meeting-and-music

I'm involved in music in our ward, so I often find myself anticipating Easter earlier than many. I learned today that our ward/stake will be having Fast Sunday on 9 Apr (Traditional Western church Easter), so there won't be special musical numbers or such on that day. (The cynic in me is expecting a lot of testimonies focused on the prior week's General Conference, but that's another topic. Shouldn't let the cynic run me down before it gets a chance to be proved wrong). I'm told that we will have our Easter service the following week. At first I was disappointed, but then I learned that 16 April is the Eastern church's Easter Sunday. So, maybe it will be okay. With some of the ways that our General Conference often conflicts with [Western] Easter, I have sometimes wondered if we would do well to regularly adopt the Eastern choice for Easter and break from the Western church on this issue. That might be too much of a break from tradition, though. Can I take comfort in celebrating Easter with the Eastern church, since the date used by the Western church this year is rather inconvenient? One caveat. I'm not entirely sure how serious I am here, so feel free to have a little fun. On a serious note, I am sometimes disappointed in how we do Easter (mostly because it sometimes feels like an after thought to us rather than the highest point of the liturgical year. At the same time, I can understand that the exact date that we celebrate Easter likely means very little in the grand scheme of things.

I'm not sure it is very satisfying, but it seems to me to be something very similar to the question of how prophets and scripture communicate revelation -- my own spiritual experiences are subject to my own failures to receive them properly and interpret them properly. As an example, I thought of the many times we as LDS have "rationalized away" other people's spiritual experiences in relation to their churches/faiths (I don't know if it is the best example, but one thread on this board: Sometimes we talk about how people in other churches might have spiritual experiences around truths that they encounter, but these spiritual experiences should not be interpreted as evidence that their church is as true as the LDS church is. If someone has a spiritual experience with the Bible, does that mean the Book of Mormon cannot be scripture? If someone has a spiritual experience with the Book of Mormon, does that mean that the Book of Mormon must be 100% historical? If someone has a spiritual experience in the temple, does that mean that the creation account in the temple is scientifically accurate? Speaking only for myself, I have had spiritual experiences in relation to the reality of God, but does that mean that everything I believe about God's nature is 100% true? I have had experiences around the reality of Christ and His atonement, but does that necessarily mean that every thing attributed to Christ by the Evangelists in the NT is exactly the way it all happened?. I have also had spiritual experiences with the Book of Mormon and other scripture and experiences related to the restoration, but does that mean that everything that has happened under the banner of the restoration is exactly what God wanted? Spiritual experiences are certainly a key part of our testimony, but are we always certain of our interpretation of those spiritual experiences?

I frequently see this in some of these "accommodationist" approaches, and, in many ways I think it makes sense. However, I also think it sets up a tension between "conservative" religion (what we have been teaching and doing is correct) and "progressive" religion (God is trying to show us where we need to change). Which is fine if that's really what we believe is happening in how God interacts with His people through His prophets. It suggests to me that one aspect of helping some who doubt could involve helping them understand and accept this conservative vs. progressive tension and how we think God wants us to understand it.

I find myself hoping and praying the same thing. It might be leading to be more universalistic than we are typically comfortable with (we have a long history of discomfort with universalism), but there it is anyway.