Unspotted from the world (part 1)

Image via Euro News

I'm going to speak from one of my core identities, which is a believing, sincere, committed Latter-day Saint. A white, believing, sincere, committed Latter-day Saint, since that distinction is important here.

The distinction that I am a believing and active member is also important, because a lot of what is out there on this topic comes from people who no longer believe. Certainly still valid voices, but this situation, to me, is not a binary where you're in (and racist) or you're out (and not racist). 

I was thinking about how wanting to keep ourselves unspotted from the world, makes racism extra hard for white LDS people to really wrap our brains around. The violence in particular doesn't compute. Before you judge me too quickly...

In church, in the scriptures even, we are taught not only not to do bad stuff, but also not to associate with it in any way. In today's world, assuming I have the privilege of not seeing actual abuse or violence (a privilege which so far, I do have), then perhaps also I should try avoid seeking the real-life stories about it. Try not to watch it in movies. Try not to read it in novels. Try not to listen to it on the radio. Stay completely separate. Stay completely innocent. Keeping it tame with my media consumption has always been my approach, and generally still is.

This came to mind when I was thinking about one of the most powerful movies I have seen about benevolent racism, and how much it shook me: Get Out. This is a horror movie which is rated R (two things that a "good" Latter-day Saint person should perhaps not partake in, and two things I generally do not partake in). I was hooked as soon as I saw the brilliant trailer--Guess Who's Coming to Dinner with a deep and painful twist--but I know how I am about horror movies, and so I took my time before watching it. I read the plot summary on Wikipedia and the parents' guide on IMDB. And then finally, about a year after it came out, I watched it filtered, with the explicit language and the gore deleted and/or fast-forwarded. (It gets really gory toward the end.) Yes, this was just about the most sanitized way I could participate in this experience. It's OK if you're laughing at me. The intricacies of this movie's metaphors about the "white moderate" (or "white liberal") including white feminists, are so sharp and so true that it hurts, a lot. This review is great: Get Out Deconstructs Racism for White People

Warning: this post contains disturbing images.

Weeeelll, so speaking of explicit language, this is where we get into F-word territory. That's right: Fragility. I have been thinking about how incredibly thin and wobbly the wire is between innocence and ignorance. Do I think we Mormons need to go out and watch horror movies? Or seek out real-life violent situations? No. If I am truly staying unspotted and untouched from all avoidable evil in the world (because it's a slippery slope; I have anxiety and I am obsessive. If I watch one violent movie or see one violent act, I may not be able to get it out of my head), then it might be more difficult for me to believe and to wrap my mind around the notion that evil happened in the real world. It is happening in the real world. And just like the unwelcome images may linger in my mind for years, the unwelcome experiences of violent OR benevolent racism may linger in the minds of my Black brothers and sisters. For life.

"Lay apart all filthiness"
Keep the appalling and disgusting stuff out of your mind and heart. (link is to Lady Day singing "Strange Fruit")

Image via National Memorial for Peace and Justice

"Keep thyself unspotted from the world"
Don't let the unpleasantness of the world linger in you.

Image via Wall Street Journal

"Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly"
Don't dwell on iniquity and vice.

Image via NBC News

"If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things."
If it is violent, ugly, or shameful or evil, we do not hold these things in our minds and hearts.

Image via NBC News

OK, so, I've never burned a cross or been to an alt-right rally. I've never attended a lynching. I've never unconstitutionally detained anyone or beaten anyone, and I've never killed anyone. Neither have you. (probably?)

So: assuming that (probably?) many if not most Church members over the centuries but especially in recent decades have not done those things either, although certainly some have: When we talk about racism in the Church (specifically the racist teachings propagated by a century plus-long policy against Black men and women of African descent participating in temple ordinances or being ordained to the priesthood, which ended in 1978)(these racist teachings have been officially disavowed, yet they turned up in a major world-wide lesson manual in 2020), I have personally witnessed a common "not-me" approach: "We are not racist." "That was 40 years ago." "All of America was segregated for most of that time." "The people weren't ready for it yet." Granted, that  not-me attitude is slowly changing. Like, a millimeter at a time changing. But as sheltered as we are, it's sometimes hard for us white Latter-day Saints to see the ways that our racist legacy continues.

If you consider that the Church was founded in 1830, the official policy against Black people participating fully was announced in 1852, and the official revocation of that policy was announced in 1978, here is the math:

22 years of no overt policy against Black members' full fellowship

126 years of an overt policy against Black members' full fellowship

42 years of no overt policy against Black members' full fellowship, plus the relieved confidence of "That's all behind us!"

LDS scholar Marvin Perkins (controversial in his own right, due to a cringey message of colorblindness which can unfortunately overshadow his broader, more helpful message of interpreting "blackness" in scripture as traceable to a Hebrew idiom meaning "gloom") uses this really great graphic, which is somewhat illustrated here:

Image via LDS Living

There's an image of the temple on the far left. There are four brick walls blocking the temple, one labeled Restriction, one labeled Teachings, one labeled Attitudes, and one labeled Perceptions. These "walls" have been up since at least 1852; but let's be real, a few of them were up as early as 1830. The first wall, the one labeled Restriction, was removed in 1978. The other three walls--Teachings, Attitudes, and Perceptions--remain. That "Restriction" wall kept Black Saints literally out of the temple. The other three walls, all of which remain today, in 2020, keep Black Saints metaphorically out of the temple and they keep Saints of all races out of achieving our full purpose of heart, which is to come unto Christ, leaving no one behind.

So I have another post to follow up to this one. Well, I will have another post, once I write it. haha. It includes some seemingly small action ideas for our day-to-day as well as larger long-term ones. The followup post is also inspired by some more scriptures I've been pondering. I'll share just one here, and the rest in the next post:

"And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge"

We need diligence, faith, and definitely virtue, sure sure sure. OK so the big thing we might be missing if we're focusing entirely on the first three, is that last one KNOWLEDGE.

Who knows the most about the Black Latter-day Saint experience? That would be Black Latter-day Saints. Are they a monolith? No. Do they offer a variety of perspectives? Yes. Can we come unto Christ without them--and would we want to? No and no. Is it possible to change our Teachings, Attitudes, and Perceptions about them? Yes. Is it going to hurt? Yes. Is it as simple as one blog post, one announcement, or one invitation? Obviously not.

More soon.

*

Series:
Part 1: Unspotted from the world
Part 2: Seek ye diligently
Part 3: Mourn with those that mourn
Part 4: In much patience
Part 5: "Come here" and "go there"