Chapter 18
All the Blessings of the Gospel
On the afternoon of March 9, 1977, Helvécio Martins stood with news reporters at the temple construction site in São Paulo, Brazil. President Spencer W. Kimball had come to the country for the temple’s cornerstone ceremony, and around three thousand people were there to watch, some carrying umbrellas to protect themselves from the blazing sun. As the public relations director for the Church’s Brazil North Region, Helvécio was there to aid the reporters covering the event.
Helvécio had accepted the call to serve in Church public relations three years earlier. He had thought it was an extraordinary amount of trust to place in a new member. But he immersed himself in the calling, using his prominence as a business executive to make important contacts in the media and open doors for the Church.
Part of Helvécio’s new duties involved spreading the word about the temple. The building was now about one-third complete, its walls already high above the ground. Church architect Emil Fetzer had wanted Italian white marble for the temple’s exterior, but when that and other options proved unworkable, he brought in a craftsman to teach local Church members how to make cast stone blocks directly on the temple site.
The Brazilian Saints, along with Saints from other parts of South America and the nation of South Africa, had made many financial sacrifices to help fund the temple construction. In Brazil, Saints paid 15 percent of the total cost. Helvécio’s wife, Rudá, had donated jewelry she had received from her parents to the fund.
While Helvécio and Rudá looked forward to the temple’s completion, it grieved them that they would not be able to participate in endowments and sealings because they were Black. On one occasion, while walking around the temple’s steel frames and unfinished floors, they had stopped on a patch of ground. The Spirit touched their hearts. They were standing on the spot where the celestial room would be.
Embracing, they wept. “Don’t worry,” Helvécio said, “the Lord knows everything.”
As Helvécio waited for the cornerstone ceremony to begin, he glanced at President Kimball, who was sitting on a small stage next to the temple walls. The prophet seemed to be motioning to him, but Helvécio wasn’t sure. He saw President Kimball whisper something to Elder James E. Faust, a newly called member of the First Quorum of the Seventy who had served a mission in Brazil during the 1940s. Elder Faust then looked at Helvécio. “Come here,” he mouthed. “He wants to talk to you.”
Helvécio quickly excused himself and made his way to the stage. As he approached, President Kimball stood up and embraced him. Then he put his arm around him and looked up at him. “Brother, the watchword for you is faithfulness,” he said. “Remain faithful and you will enjoy all the blessings of the gospel.”
Helvécio appreciated the gesture, but he was confused. What did President Kimball mean?
Later, after the cornerstone had been laid and the ceremony ended, President Kimball approached Helvécio and held his hand firmly. He then placed his other hand on Helvécio’s arm.
“Don’t forget, Brother Martins,” he said. “Don’t forget.”
Later that year, in the German Democratic Republic, Henry Burkhardt saw an East German official sitting on the front row at a special Church meeting in Dresden. Her name was Mrs. Fischer, and she supervised local religious activity in the area. For over two years, Henry had made no effort to make friends in the East German government. He had asked Mrs. Fischer to come as a matter of duty.
The meeting was special because President Kimball himself was there. He was finishing a seven-nation tour of the Church in Europe, and he had just a few hours to meet with the Saints in the GDR. It was taking place on an afternoon in the middle of the week—an inconvenient time for a meeting—but around twelve hundred Saints filled the seats and standing room.
Henry had no idea what President Kimball planned to speak about. The GDR paid attention to the words of Church leaders, and Henry and other East German Saints often worried whenever a general authority publicly condemned communism. Such talks offended the government and put the East German Saints at risk of retaliation.
As President Kimball stood at the pulpit in Dresden, Henry had little to worry about. The prophet spoke about the twelfth article of faith: “We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.” He thought the Church acted best when it abided by this precept.
The talk impressed both Henry and Mrs. Fischer. “Mr. Burkhardt,” she said after the meeting, “did your president talk about this article for my sake?”
“Not at all,” Henry replied. “This is a message that all the Saints needed at this time.”
Not long after President Kimball’s visit, Erich Honecker, the GDR’s top official, spoke publicly of his desire to work with religious groups to improve humankind. Although his words gave many East Germans hope for the future, GDR officials continued to deny visas to Church members wishing to travel to the Swiss Temple. The government did not understand why Church members needed to go to Switzerland when they could worship in chapels in the GDR. Besides, they were afraid the Saints would use the trip to flee the country.
A short time later, Bishop H. Burke Peterson, first counselor in the Presiding Bishopric, came to the GDR. While discussing the Saints’ difficulties in getting visas to visit the Swiss Temple, Bishop Peterson asked Henry, “Why should it not be possible to consecrate a room here where members can receive their endowment?”
The idea intrigued Henry, but he did not think it was possible. Three weeks later, though, he was meeting with some East German officials when the topic of temples and travel visas came up again. The officials still refused to budge on the issue. But they believed an agreement could be reached with the Saints.
“Why don’t you build a temple here?” one official asked.
“That is not possible,” said Henry. There were only about forty-two hundred members in the GDR—not nearly enough to warrant a temple. “Moreover,” he said, “the ordinances in the temple need to be kept sacred.” The government could not monitor them the same way it monitored other Church meetings.
“No problem at all,” the officials said. “If your members can have the same experience here like they do in Switzerland, you need not travel to Switzerland.”
Henry had never expected to hear those words. Nor did he think it was possible for the Church to build a temple in the GDR. But what a change had taken place! He could now see the wisdom in President Kimball’s counsel to improve his relationship with the government. “When the prophet gives you an assignment,” he concluded, “then you certainly should honor it.”
Of course, he did not know if the First Presidency would approve a temple in the GDR. But he would ask.
At the start of 1977, the proposed Equal Rights Amendment to the United States Constitution divided Americans. Only four more states needed to approve the ERA for it to take effect. That summer, at state women’s conventions held in anticipation of a national convention in November, the amendment and other related issues were debated and contested.
Relief Society general president Barbara B. Smith and other Church leaders frequently spoke in opposition to the ERA. When they studied the amendment, they were concerned that its broad application of rights did not account for differences between women and men. They worried that the ERA could overturn laws protecting the interests of women in matters of divorce, spouse and child support, military service, and other areas of everyday life.
Church leaders were also alarmed that many ERA advocates championed practices such as abortion, which the Church condemned except in cases of rape or when the health of the mother was in grave danger. Ultimately, they favored legislation that brought about equality by targeting specific cases of injustice or unfairness in society.
In the months leading up to the national convention, Church leaders encouraged the Saints to participate in the political process. While most Latter-day Saints understood that Church leaders supported laws benefiting women, some Saints had questions about the Church’s position on the ERA.
On October 25, Ellie Colton, a stake Relief Society president in Washington, DC, received a telephone call from Don Ladd, a regional representative who was Ellie’s former stake president. He was calling with a special request from Church headquarters.
A prominent supporter of the ERA was holding a dinner party in Washington, DC, to discuss the amendment, and she intended to bring together women on both sides of the issue, including Latter-day Saint women. Church leaders wanted Ellie to attend.
“If given the opportunity,” Elder Ladd told Ellie, “you should explain the Church’s stand against the ERA.”
“Brother Ladd,” Ellie said, “I am not sure I understand that myself.”
“Well,” he assured her, “you have three days to find out.”
After the call ended, Ellie felt stunned by what she had agreed to do. She had always been a peacemaker and someone who avoided confrontation. How could she hold her own against a roomful of well-informed women? It wasn’t just that she didn’t understand the ERA or the Church’s position on it. She also had some hearing loss and worried that her disability would make it hard to understand what was said at the gathering.
Right away, Ellie retreated to the woods behind her house to pray. She told the Lord about her many inadequacies and fears. She then reviewed her life’s blessings, pledging to do everything in her power to understand and explain the Church’s position on the ERA.
Returning home, she called Marilyn Rolapp, the stake Relief Society social relations leader, and asked her to join her at the party. She also called a friend in Utah and asked her to send more information.
The information arrived the next day. Ellie and Marilyn began studying, and by the time they left for the party, they felt ready to discuss the ERA with anyone. The night before, Ellie had felt insecure and mentally exhausted, but her daughter had cheered her. “Stick to the issues you understand,” she had said, “and before you go to bed, read section 100, verse 5 of the Doctrine and Covenants.”
The scripture was just what Ellie needed to hear: “Lift up your voices unto this people,” it read, “speak the thoughts that I shall put into your hearts, and you shall not be confounded.”
When Ellie and Marilyn arrived at the party, though, they learned that its organizers had canceled the event, believing it would not be productive. The chair of the national women’s conference had also just held a press event in which she numbered the Church among several “subversive” groups that planned to disrupt the convention.
Troubled by these comments, Ellie decided to publish her views in an editorial for the Washington Post, a newspaper with a large national readership. “The Church is not against women’s rights,” she wrote. “It is unworthy of the conference’s leaders to suggest that our Church is a threat to the conference simply because its official position differs from theirs.”
She explained the Church’s concerns about the amendment and its effects on family. And she voiced her own support for such measures as equal pay and professional opportunities for women such as her daughter, who was planning to attend law school soon.
“I am for women’s rights. I am for correcting inequities,” she declared in her editorial. “I resent being told I am against women’s rights if I’m not for the ERA.”
On a cool, overcast evening in January 1978, Le My Lien sat nervously in a car headed for the Salt Lake City International Airport. She was on her way to meet her husband, Nguyen Van The, for the first time in nearly three years. She worried what he would think of the life she had built for their family in his absence.
As part of its mission to care for families, LDS Social Services had arranged with Church members in the United States to care for about 550 Vietnamese refugees, most of whom were not members of the Church. Lien and her family were sponsored by Philip Flammer, a professor at Brigham Young University, and his wife, Mildred. They helped the family relocate to Provo, Utah, where Lien was able to rent and later purchase a mobile home from a local Saint.
At first, Lien had struggled to find work in Utah. Philip took her to a thrift store to apply for a janitorial position. But during the interview, the manager tore her high school diploma in half and told her, “This does not apply here.” Lien wept as she picked up the pieces, but she later taped the diploma back together and framed it on the wall to motivate her children to pursue higher education.
She soon found temporary work picking cherries at a nearby orchard. She then found work as a seamstress and added to her income by baking wedding cakes. With help from Philip, she also earned money by typing reports for BYU students.
While Lien struggled to provide for her family, her children struggled to adapt to their new life in America. The youngest, Linh, was underweight and frequently sick. The boys, Vu and Huy, had difficulty making friends in school because of the language barrier and cultural differences. They often complained to Lien about their peers teasing them.
Amid her family’s hardships, Lien remained faithful to the Lord. She attended Church meetings regularly and continued to pray for her family and her husband. “Give me strength,” she would plead with her Heavenly Father. She taught her children about the power of prayer, knowing it could carry them through their ordeals.
Then, in late 1977, Lien learned that her husband was in a refugee camp in Malaysia. He had managed to leave Vietnam on an old fishing boat after finally being released from the camp at Thành Ông Năm. Now he was ready to reunite with his family. All he needed was a sponsor.
Lien began working even more hours to save enough money to bring The to the United States. The Red Cross gave her a list of everything she needed to do to sponsor him, and she followed the instructions carefully. She also talked to the children about their father’s return. Her daughter had no memory of The, and the boys could hardly remember him. They couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a father.
After arriving at the airport, Lien joined other friends and Church members who had come to welcome The. Some of them held balloons that shone in the evening light.
Before long, Lien saw The descending an escalator. He looked pale and had a lost look in his eyes. But at the sight of Lien, he called out to her. They reached for one another at the same time and clasped hands. Emotion welled in Lien’s chest.
She pulled The into a hug. “Thank God in heaven,” she whispered, “you are home at last!”
In the early months of 1978, President Spencer W. Kimball was so concerned about the Church’s priesthood and temple restriction that he often struggled to sleep. The public outcry against the restriction had largely quieted, but he continued to think about the countless worthy Saints and other good people it affected. His recent trip to Brazil had been a reminder of the many challenges it posed for Saints around the world.
All his life, President Kimball had upheld the Church’s practice of withholding the priesthood from people of Black African descent, and he was ready to spend the rest of his life upholding that practice. Yet he knew the restored gospel of Jesus Christ was destined to flood the earth, and he had asked the Saints to pray for nations to open their doors to missionary work.
He began spending more and more time in the Salt Lake Temple’s Holy of Holies, a special sanctuary adjoining the celestial room. There he would remove his shoes, kneel in prayer, and humbly plead with heaven.
On March 9, he spoke with his counselors and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles about race and the priesthood. The meeting lasted a long time. They reviewed statements by Church presidents David O. McKay and Harold B. Lee indicating that the priesthood restriction would someday end. But the apostles unanimously agreed that the practice would not change until the Lord revealed His will to the prophet.
Before the meeting ended, President Kimball urged the apostles to fast and pray about the issue. And over the next several weeks, he invited them to study the subject and write down their thoughts. He assigned elders Howard W. Hunter and Boyd K. Packer to compile a history of the priesthood restriction and document everything that had been said about the issue in meetings of the First Presidency and the Twelve. The previous year, he had also asked Elder Bruce R. McConkie to review the scriptural basis for the practice.
President Kimball, meanwhile, continued to pray about the restriction. While concerns still beset him, they became less and less important. He felt a growing spiritual impression, deep and abiding, to move forward. When Elder McConkie submitted a report on his findings, he concluded that no scriptures barred the Church from lifting the restriction.
On Tuesday, May 30, President Kimball shared with his counselors a rough draft of a statement extending the priesthood to all worthy men, regardless of their race.
Two days later, June 1, the First Presidency had their monthly meeting with all general authorities. They had come to the meeting fasting, as usual, and at its conclusion, the presidency dismissed everyone but the apostles.
“I would like you to continue to fast with me,” he said. He then told them of the many hours he had spent asking the Lord for answers. A change would bring the restored gospel and temple blessings to countless Saints—men, women, and children—all across the world.
“I have not been determined in advance what the answer should be,” he said. “But I want to know. Whatever the Lord’s decision is, I will defend it to the limits of my strength.”
He asked everyone to share their thoughts, and for the next two hours, the apostles spoke in turn. A feeling of unity and peace rested over them.
“Do you mind if I lead you in prayer?” President Kimball asked.
He knelt at a temple altar, surrounded by the apostles. Humbly and fervently, he asked the Father to cleanse them from sin so they could receive the Lord’s word. He prayed to know how to expand the work of the Church and spread the gospel throughout the world. He asked the Lord to manifest His mind and will on extending the priesthood to all worthy men in the Church.
After the prophet finished his prayer, the Holy Spirit flooded the room, touching the hearts of everyone in the circle. The Spirit spoke to their souls, binding them together in total harmony. All doubt fled.
President Kimball sprang from his knees. His fragile heart was pounding. He wrapped his arms around Elder David B. Haight, the junior apostle, and embraced the others one by one. The apostles had tears in their eyes. Some wept openly.
They had received their answer from the Lord.
“We left that meeting subdued and reverent and joyful,” Elder Gordon B. Hinckley later recalled. “All of us knew that the time had come for a change and that the decision had come from the heavens. The answer was clear. There was perfect unity among us in our experience and in our understanding.”
“It was a quiet and sublime occasion,” he declared. “The voice of the Spirit whispered with certainty into our minds and our very souls.”
“Following the prayer, we experienced the sweetest spirit of unity and conviction that I have ever experienced,” Elder Ezra Taft Benson recorded in his journal. “We took each other in our arms, we were so impressed with the sweet spirit that was in evidence. Our bosoms burned.”
“It was the most spiritual event of my entire life,” Elder Marvin J. Ashton wrote. “It left me weak.”
“From the midst of eternity, the voice of God, conveyed by the power of the Spirit, spoke to His prophet,” Elder Bruce R. McConkie also witnessed. “President Kimball’s prayer was answered and our prayers were answered. He heard the voice and we heard the same voice. All doubt and uncertainty fled. He knew the answer and we knew the answer. And we are all living witnesses of the truthfulness of the word so graciously sent from heaven.”
“The answer came strong to all of us,” President N. Eldon Tanner testified. “There was absolutely no question in the mind of any one of us.”
Eight days after President Kimball’s prayer, Darius Gray was sitting in his office at a paper company in Salt Lake City when a coworker poked her head into the room. She said she’d heard that the Church was now giving the priesthood to Black men.
Darius thought she was making a bad joke. “That’s not funny,” he told her.
“No, really,” she insisted. She had just spoken with a customer at the Church Administration Building. There were rumors that President Kimball had received a revelation extending the blessings of the priesthood and temple to all worthy members of the Church.
Skeptical, Darius picked up the telephone and dialed the number for President Kimball’s office. A secretary told him that President Kimball was in the temple, but he confirmed that the rumors were true. The prophet had indeed received a revelation on the priesthood.
Darius was stunned. He could not believe the news. Nothing had prepared him for it. The change seemed to have come out of nowhere.
The Deseret News published an announcement from the First Presidency later that day. “As we have witnessed the expansion of the work of the Lord over the earth, we have been grateful that people of many nations have responded to the message of the restored gospel, and have joined the Church in ever-increasing numbers,” it read. “This, in turn, has inspired us with a desire to extend to every worthy member of the Church all of the privileges and blessings which the gospel affords.”
“He has heard our prayers, and by revelation has confirmed that the long-promised day has come,” the announcement continued. “Every faithful, worthy man in the Church may receive the holy priesthood, with power to exercise its divine authority, and enjoy with his loved ones every blessing that flows therefrom, including the blessings of the temple.”
After Darius heard the news, he went to Temple Square. The whole block was buzzing with excitement. Darius spoke to a news reporter about the revelation and then walked across the street to the office of his old friend Heber Wolsey, who was now director of public communications for the Church.
Heber was not in his office, but his secretary asked Darius to stay. “I know he would want to see you,” she said.
Darius waited. Heber’s office overlooked the east face of the Salt Lake Temple. The sun was high and bright, and through the window, Darius could see the stones of the temple gleaming.
Before long, Heber returned to his office. As soon as he saw Darius, he gathered him in a tearful embrace.
“I never thought …” Heber whispered.
Darius looked at his friend and then out the window at the temple. And he knew that the revelation would not affect just the present and future. It would affect the past as well. For the first time in this dispensation, people like him, living and dead, would have a chance to receive every available ordinance of the temple.
Darius looked back at Heber, closed his eyes, and then slowly opened them again.