Juneteenth - A Day of Jubilee

Juneteenth is the annual holiday celebrating the end of slavery in the United States, and commemorates the day when news of their emancipation finally reached the slaves that were held in the deepest parts of the Confederacy. Although the holiday is well known in some parts of the country, many of us are simply unaware of what the holiday celebrates and why it is so significant to many of our fellow citizens.

On June 18, 1865, General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston, TX with 1,800 Union soldiers to occupy Texas and enforce the laws of the Federal government.  The following day, on June 19^th, General Granger went out on the balcony of a large home in Galveston and read out multiple General Orders establishing the military authority in the area and setting up the provisional government and its laws.  Among the orders read by General Granger was General Order No. 3:

“The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection hereby existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor. The freedmen are advised to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages. They are informed that they will not be allowed to collect at military posts and that they will not be supported in idleness either there or elsewhere.”

General Granger’s announcement electrified the now former slaves who spontaneously began celebrating their freedom with prayer, singing, and general rejoicing.

A year later, the freedmen in Texas organized the first “Jubilee Day” celebration to commemorate General Granger’s announcement.  The celebration on June 19^th became an annual tradition, with former slaves and their families gathering in their finest clothes to celebrate their freedom with religious services, the singing of traditional spirituals, readings of the Emancipation Proclamation and General Order No. 3, and plenty of the families’ best cooking to share and enjoy with their neighbors.  As the years passed, Jubilee Day became known by several different names, including Freedom Day, Ce-Liberation Day, Emancipation Day, and the name it is known by today – Juneteenth.

Early Juneteenth observances were church-centered celebrations that doubled as opportunities for the freedmen to learn how to exercise their new rights, such as the right to vote, and to organize schools and other institutions designed to improve their lives.

As former slaves in Texas began exercising their freedom to move about the country, many returned to the states they had been dragged from to look for their families and loved ones that had been left behind.  Others migrated to northern states, or out west.  Wherever they went, the tradition of Juneteenth went with them, and Jubilee celebrations began spreading throughout the nation.

Like the struggle for civil rights, Juneteenth celebrations have also faced obstacles imposed by bigotry and racism.  Many cities prohibited African-Americans from gathering together in public parks and facilities.  In those cities the Black community celebrated Juneteenth on river banks, or by lakes away from town.  In some cities, Black citizens pooled their resources to purchase land and create their own parks.  Historic Emancipation Park in downtown Houston, TX, was originally purchased by members of the Black community in 1872 as a place to hold their annual Jubilee Day celebrations. 

In the years since General Granger read General Order No. 3, the number of Juneteenth celebrations have increased or diminished depending on what has been happening in the country.  Some eras in particular, such as the end of Reconstruction and the Great Depression, saw fewer communities celebrate Juneteenth. Other eras, such as the 50’s and 60’s, saw a regular increase in Juneteenth celebrations as African-American GI’s returned from World War II, and the Civil Rights movement grew and gathered momentum.  In the late 1970’s, the Texas Legislature declared Juneteenth a “holiday of significance,” and in 1980 Texas became the first state to declare Juneteenth a State Holiday.  Today 47 states and the District of Columbia officially acknowledge Juneteenth.

June 19, 1865 marked the end of slavery as a legal institution in the United States of America.  It also marked the beginning of the long and tortuous road that African-Americans have walked over the past 155 years to get the equal rights that are their due as free men and women. Juneteenth is not just a celebration of freedom from slavery, it is a call to continue the struggle for civil rights until everyone is valued for who they are, not what they look like.  It is a day to reflect on how we regard and treat our fellowman, and to break off any chains of bigotry and prejudice that may still bind our own hearts.

Happy Juneteenth!

Where Can I Turn For Peace?

Peace seems to be a rare and precious commodity in our world today and the questions asked by the first two verses of the hymn, Where Can I Turn for Peace?, seem to be especially appropriate:

Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace?

When other sources cease to make me whole?

When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,

I draw myself apart, searching my soul?

Where when my aching grows, where when I languish,

Where in my need to know, where can I run?

Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?

Who, who can understand? He, only one.

-       Hymns 129

The answer to the pressing need for peace in our lives is to draw near to the Savior, not just by reading the scriptures and praying, but by finding other ways to bring Him into our lives. Several days ago a member of my ward posted an inspiring video of her and her fellow Young Performing Missionaries singing a beautiful song called “Invocation.” The song takes its text from Matthew 18:20 – the Lord’s promise that “…where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” (The video can be found HERE). Although we miss gathering to worship together on Sundays with our fellow congregants, we can each draw on the Lord’s promise to feel his presence when we gather to worship Him in our homes.

 The Lord’s promise to be in our midst is not just restricted to formal worship services either.  Anytime we gather together with someone else with a desire to lighten their burdens - whether it be in our homes, through a phone call, a text message, or an online meeting – we qualify to have him be with us. In fact, whenever we do anything to serve another person we are doing the Lord’s work and he will smile upon us and magnify our efforts. The peace we will feel from spending this time with our Savior, however small the gathering, can carry us through the difficulties we face in these uncertain times.

And why do we want to have the Savior in our midst? Because there is nobody that is as intimately acquainted with our trials and difficulties as he is, and he knows how to mend us!  The third verse of Where Can I Turn for Peace? speaks eloquently of the help He provides us:

He answers privately, reaches my reaching,

In my Gethsemane, Savior and friend.

Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching,

Constant he is, and kind, love without end.

Shortly before going to Gethsemane and facing the awful agony of the atonement, our Savior gave his apostles these beautiful words of comfort:

            “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

I testify that Christ has overcome the world, and that he is the Prince of Peace as a result. He knows our needs, and he will heal us as we reach out to help and heal those who are hurting around us. I know that as we strive to be kind in the way that we address each other, respond to each other, and serve each other we will find that the greatest healing will come into our own hearts.

May the Lord grant all of us the peace we are longing for as we work together to lift each other up.

Memorial Day 2020 - Remembering the Fallen

Ever since I became a Scout leader I wanted a flagpole so our family could raise and lower a flag in our front yard.  Specifically, I wanted us to be able to participate in our nation’s annual tribute to its fallen by flying the flag at half-staff on Memorial Day.  So, shortly before Memorial Day in 2001, we purchased a flagpole and installed it on our front lawn.  On Memorial Day that year we felt greater reverence for our country’s honored dead as we performed this small ceremony at home for the first time.

A little over 3 months later we watched the TV in horror as the second plane flew into the World Trade Center in New York City. I quietly went outside and lowered our flag to half-staff, and then my family gathered together to pray for our country and our brothers and sisters in New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.  We felt solidarity with our fellow citizens as flags came out across the nation to acknowledge the terrible loss and express our resolve that this outrage would not go unanswered.  We were all changed by that September day.

In February of 2002 I was given the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong desire to visit Washington D.C. and took some time to visit Arlington National Cemetery.  I felt a solemn reverence come over me as I walked to the Tomb of the Unknowns.  As I looked out over the silent, snow-covered landscape, I was impressed by the awful arithmetic of freedom – conveyed by row after row of pure white headstones stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions. I left with a resolve to never take my freedom for granted, and have strived to live up to that inner commitment in the years that followed.  Memorial Day after visiting Arlington was different for me.  I had seen some of the price of my freedom quantified, and it changed me.

At the end of last year I went on a business trip to Baltimore, and took the time to drive to Gettysburg and spend the day touring the battlefield.  I have read multiple volumes on the Civil War, and countless chapters in those books are devoted to the battle at Gettysburg.  I thought I had an idea of what to expect there – but I was unprepared for the emotions I felt.  The size of the battlefield, the sweltering heat, the marches and countermarches, the ferocity of the fighting and the sheer numbers of soldiers who fought and died all over that ground were almost incomprehensible.  Words fail me. Even now, words fail me as I remember that day.

Later that afternoon, I toured Fort McHenry in Baltimore.  Although I felt a reverence there, I was still so overwhelmed by what I had felt at Gettysburg that I didn’t fully appreciate where I was walking.  The next day I went back to Fort McHenry to briefly fly a flag over the Fort that I could take home with me.  On the second visit, I felt what I was expecting to feel in that hallowed place.  I marveled at the tenacity of Fort McHenry’s defenders as they endured the unremitting bombardment of the mightiest military in the world at the time. I was grateful for the patriotic defiance they demonstrated as they raised a larger flag the following morning so the whole world could see “that our flag was still there.” I was inspired, and the flag I brought home with me is a precious reminder of what I felt there.  My storehouse of gratitude for the sacrifice of others grew.  I was changed by what I felt there.  I will remember the feelings from that trip as we observe Memorial Day this year.

In spite of how these visits and these experiences have increased my feelings of gratitude for my freedom, they pale in comparison to the experience that lives with our family every day.

On March 12, 2010 my dad called to let me know that my cousin, SFC Jake Whetten, had been killed by an IED in Afghanistan earlier that day.  When I hung up the phone I immediately walked out of my house and lowered the flag in our front yard to half-staff to honor Jake and the ultimate sacrifice he had just made.  The next few days were full of emotion as we gathered with Jake’s family to receive his body at Luke AFB and then participate in his funeral services – complete with the full military honors due to one who has lost his life in combat.  Jake’s mother, Aunt Amy, requested that my siblings and I sing America The Beautiful at his funeral.  Somehow we all made it through the song without breaking down, but in the past 10 years I have never been able to sing the third verse of that beautiful song without breaking down and crying:

Oh, beautiful for heroes proved

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country loved,

And mercy more than life!

Our family was changed by Jake’s sacrifice, and Memorial Day that year took on a meaning that was orders of magnitude deeper than it was for us only the year before.  Memorial Day in 2010 – ten years ago – and every Memorial Day since then has been different, because we were all changed by Jake’s sacrifice.  We saw, firsthand, the indescribable grief felt by Jake’s daughter, his mother, his brother and sisters, his fiancé, and all of the members of his extended family who gathered to honor him that day.  We felt overwhelming sorrow ourselves at all that was lost when Jake was killed.  The Hall of Heroes is no longer an anonymous and faceless concept to us.  It now contains someone we knew and loved and respected – someone we watched grow up.  We came face-to-face with the true cost of freedom, and how that price is not only extracted through the life of the soldier that is lost, but in the grief and loneliness and sorrow and regret that is left behind in its wake.  The price is borne by those left behind who carry the heavy burden of an unwanted honor.

God bless them, and the memory of their loved ones!  May the “peace that passeth all understanding” be theirs as we all reflect on their sacrifice this weekend!

The Other Side of the Equation

Recently my daughter Haeley posted on social media that she no longer believes the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and is no longer a member of the Church.  She was immediately surrounded by love and support from those that know her - believers, non-believers, and former believers.  It was good to see that she has such a supportive group for what has been a challenging change in her life.

Haeley's announcement wasn't news to me, because I am on the other side of this experience as Haeley's father - someone who continues to believe in and follow the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ.  Reading her post made everything new, and raw, and fresh again - and I feel compelled to tell what my experience has been like too.  This experience hasn't been easy for Haeley or for me, but I am going to follow her example and be vulnerable about something very personal in the hopes that others who care can know what the other side of this experience is like.

What is it like on this side of the fence?  In a word:  Agonizing.  My oldest three children have left the Church.  Half of my family has left.

It hurt when it started, it still hurts, and I imagine that it will continue to hurt for the foreseeable future.  Of course this hurts.  If it didn't it would mean one of two things - Either that I didn't love my daughters or that I didn't believe the Gospel.  And neither of those is true - so it hurts. 

 In the spirit of keeping it real - here are some of the (unfiltered) thoughts, emotions, and reactions that I have had as a result of this experience:

• If I wasn't such a weak individual this wouldn't have happened.  Therefore I have failed my family as a father.
• Why didn't we stay absolutely consistent with our family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening?
• I should have attended the temple more often and taken my children to the temple more often.
• Why would my kids deliberately choose to not be a member of our family for eternity?
• Did my son-in-law drag Haeley down or did she drag him down?  Has anyone else been a part of this?
• What kind of influence are my non-believing children going to have on my other children?  Should I limit their contact?
• How could I be such a miserable failure at parenting?  It couldn't be my wife, so it must be me.
• Lots of heart wrenching, racking, sobbing, ugly crying when I am alone.
• Will it ever NOT hurt to see Haeley, her husband, and my other children who have left the Church?
• Will I still have the love for them that I have had in the past?
• Will I lose the youngest three too?

In many ways, the pain has been similar to what I have experienced when a close family member has passed away, but without the comfort that comes as a result of my beliefs about the next life.  In fact, many of my beliefs about the next life in this case have just added to my sorrow.  I have woken up in the middle of the night and immediately felt the agony of this loss.  It has come over me in waves while I am at work, at Church, in the Temple, or just driving down the road or quietly reading a book.  At times the pain has been almost paralyzing.

I have thought about what the future no longer holds - how there will probably not be baptisms or priesthood ordinations, missionary farewells and temple weddings for many of my grandchildren - some of the milestones in LDS life that I have looked forward to participating in since becoming a father.  I have wondered if there will be a distance between me and my future grandchildren as a result of this.

I have also re-examined my own beliefs.  The intersection between my belief and my children's disbelief has been a source of enormous pain.  It would just be easier to give up the fight and join them, wouldn't it?

But I can't deny what I know is true, can I?

So I have pushed through it and have learned a lot of things that perhaps I couldn't have learned any other way.

• I do love my children as much as I did before this happened, and I love being around them, and I am proud of them for the good people they are.  There is a tremendous amount of joy in being their father.
• My kids are each other's best friends, and I love that and hope that it continues for the rest of their lives.
• The principle of agency is a hard doctrine, but it is a true doctrine.  My children and I are free to make our own choices and experience the consequences of those choices. 
• Yes - there are a ton of things I could have done better as a father, but my kids know I love them and love their mother - and that is the most important thing a father can give his children.
• Other people may have influenced their decisions - but ultimately my children are strong enough to make up their own minds.
• I have been far too judgmental of others in the past for the "failings" of their children and I need to repent.  Judgement just adds to an already heavy burden.
• There is still joy in the Gospel for me, in spite of this agonizing experience.

Several people have known about this before it was broadcast to the world and have been, in turns, helpful and hurtful in their responses.  What has been helpful have been expressions of love and concern and sharing of their own experiences with their loved ones who have left the Church.  This has helped me not feel so alone and has been very comforting.  What has been hurtful has been telling me that I need to "call on my children to repent"  or to "lay down the law." This has only contributed to the guilt I have felt about being a crappy father and ignores the fact that they do not understand the intricate dynamics of my family nor the relationship I have with my kids.  In all cases, I am sure that those who have interacted with me have only sincerely wanted to help me because of the love they have for me and my family.  This experience is awkward, and I'm sure it is hard for the many people who love me to know just how to respond to me and the circumstances of my family.

My whole world in a snapshot.

So now what?

I will continue to love all of my family members the same way I have loved them in the past, and find joy in the experience of being their father.  I couldn't experience the joy if I didn't experience the sorrows too.

I will continue to learn through this experience.  I have learned some unpleasant truths about my own character that I need to work on and improve.  I hope that I can become a better husband, father and human being as a result of this experience.

I will also continue to hope and pray and do everything in my power to be faithful so that my youngest kids will know how to gain their own testimonies of the Gospel and stay faithful, and so that my oldest kids will come back to the fold one day.  Until Christ wraps up his work, nothing is final.  I have infinite trust in his love and power to make up for my shortcomings and theirs.

UPDATE: 7/12/19

My wife and I have been overwhelmed by the incredible outpouring of support, both for us and for all of our children, that we have received as a result of this post.  To those who have reached out to us in love, thank you so much.

For a little context - before I wrote this I ran the idea past my daughter Haeley.  She was enthusiastic about the idea, read the post before I published it, and has stayed abreast of the comments being made on my FB page.  She has been as supportive of me as I have tried to be of her.

I have disabled comments because some of them were going far afield from the purpose of this post.  This is about my experience as a believing parent of children who have left the faith they were raised with.  My experience is as real and genuinely felt as my daughters', and my beliefs are as dear to me as theirs are to them.  I have rarely, if ever, seen a post from a parent about their side of this experience - usually the only mention the parents receive is from their children who have left, and the portrait they paint of their parents is rarely flattering.  Coming to terms with this is a process for all parties and we ALL make mistakes as we feel our way through it.  Dismissing the pain parents go through or condescendingly telling them to "get over it" is neither helpful nor productive.

Thank you for your understanding.

What I hope my children will remember about Independence Day

Today is Independence Day.  Today we remember the brave men who mutually pledged to each other their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor so that we could have the freedom God intended us to have.  In the words of another great American - “It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.”

As luck would have it, my family is not home today and I will be celebrating my favorite holiday alone.  I have thought a lot about my family, freedom and what I hope they remember about this day.  Here are a few of my thoughts:

Freedom is always given to us by others.  It is a priceless gift that is only ever obtained through struggle and sacrifice.

There is no way to ever repay our benefactors.  It is simply a gift that must be paid forward to our children – improved upon.

The state of freedom is always precarious.  Tyrants will always seek to stamp it out wherever they find it springing up around them, often with violence.  Others, men and women with “good intentions”, will quietly chip away at our freedoms in subtle ways; slowly forging our chains a law, regulation or tax at a time until our freedom is lost.

Constant vigilance and a willingness to stand up and fight are freedom’s only safeguards.

As we celebrate our nation’s birth today we will recall the names of Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson and others who gave us this great nation.  I hope my children will always remember and revere these names.  I also hope that they will prize, as their own personal gems, the names of their ancestors who stepped into the breach over 230 years ago:

Pvt. Richard Chamberlain – CT

Capt. Hope Lothrop (Lathrop) – CT

Soldier – Jesse Barbre – NC

1^st Lt. Wakeman Burr – CT

Pvt. Samuel Young – MA

Pvt. Supply Reade – MA

Capt. William Neill (Neal) – NC

Cpl. Jonathan Bidlack – CT

2^nd Lt. Zaccheus Clough – NH

Cpl. Moses Curtis – MA (Fought at Battle of Bunker Hill)

Pvt. Enoch Wellington – MA

Pvt. Martin Harmon – MA

Pvt. Samuel Meacham – NH

Pvt. Asael Smith – NH
Isaac West – SC

George Booth Malone – VA

Pvt. James Collins – NC

Finally and above all, I hope that they will always remember He who makes us “free indeed” – Almighty God, the author and finisher of our faith and freedom.

Happy Independence Day!

He Lives!

Six years ago my little brother Timmy passed away.  I was on the phone with my dad as he counted down the readings on the pulse/oxymeter device.  "50... 40... 30... 10... He's gone."  I can't even begin to describe how bad it hurt to listen to my baby brother slip away like that and then know that Mom and Dad were now alone down home.  I remembered that day 14 years earlier when I had said goodbye to Tim when I left to serve my mission.  I really didn't expect him to be there when I got home because he had so many health challenges.  As I walked down the jetway to board the airplane I felt that my heart would burst from the pain.  Now I felt it all over again, only now it wasn't a possible separation - it was an actual separation.

I wanted to be home immediately to be with my parents, but there were certain experiences I knew were waiting for me down home that I did not want to face.  I knew that Mom and Dad expected my brothers and I to dress Tim in white clothes before the viewing and funeral, but I knew it was going to be an awful struggle for me to contain my emotions.  Seeing him cold and unresponsive would just make it too real and final.  But I also knew that this was one of the last services I could do for Tim, and I wouldn't shy away from it. With a fervent prayer in my heart I accompanied my parents, two of my younger brothers, and an uncle to the preparation room.

An overwhelming spirit of peace filled the room as they wheeled Tim in for us to dress him.  I knew that what was laying before us was not really Timmy anymore, just the mortal shell that we had known and loved him in.  The real Tim was somewhere else; close by, but unseen.  And at that moment I knew that he was every bit as alive as I was.  I felt a calm assurance that I would see Tim again because of the marvelous gift of my Savior Jesus Christ.

When I remember Christ's atoning sacrifice I most readily remember the price that He paid for my sins, and that He died and was resurrected so that all of us can be resurrected too.  But the atonement was so much more than that.  He also took upon Himself all of our sorrows, heartaches and sicknesses.  He experienced them personally in a way that I cannot comprehend or fully appreciate - but I believe that He did it.

I had often been puzzled by the Savior's actions right before he raised Lazarus from the dead.  Here was the Son of God, master of life and death, going with a sure knowledge that he was about to raise Lazarus from the grave to continue his mortal life.  He knew it was going to happen, yet when he got to the grave we read that "Jesus wept." (St. John 11:35)  Why did He weep?  I believe it was because he "felt after" Lazarus' loved ones who were mourning his loss.  There in that room, as we prepared my little brother for his burial, I felt that the Savior was feeling after us.  He was sad because He loves us - and we were sad.

I am grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  It not only provided the needed comfort at a time of immense grief, it provided (and still provides) tremendous hope for the future.  Because of this great gift I know that I can be with my family once again.  His atonement covers all wounds and heals all hurts.  There is  NOTHING that cannot be made right by Christ.

At the end of a very beautiful funeral service my family gathered at the cemetery to say our final goodbye's to Tim.  As we lowered his casket into the grave my 5 year old daughter Blondie looked at all of us like we were crazy.  Looking down into the grave at Timmy's casket she said in a loud voice: "How is he going to get out?" and then quickly answered her own question - "I guess Jesus will just have to go down there and get him."

Indeed - Jesus has come down here and will "get" all of us who are waiting and anxious for His uplifting hands.  There is joy and sweet comfort in the sentence: "I know that my Redeemer lives!"

I know that He lives!  I know that He suffered for our sins, died and rose again the third day to open the way back to our Heavenly Father's presence.  He is there now, beckoning us towards Him.  He is the only way back.  May we each find Him and feel after Him on this sacred Easter Sunday.

Missing Tim

Timmy, my baby brother, had a tremendous impact on my life.  He blessed our family in person for 17 years and then moved on ahead of us 6 years ago today.  Although it has been a while since Tim's passing, memories of his life continue to bless me.  Here are a just a few of the things I remember about Timmy:

• Tim's absolute joy in living - he laughed and enjoyed the very simplest of things with a zest that could hardly be contained in his little body.
• His life was surrounded with love - with the exception of one isolated incident Tim never knew anything but love in his life, and he radiated the love he felt for others.
• His spiritual sensitivity - he recognized when spiritually significant events were occurring.  This didn't always happen, but it happened on enough occasions for us to recognize it and appreciate it.   
• His laugh - Tim laughed with his entire body
• His patience - Tim had to endure a lot of discomfort and illness in his life, but he just dealt with it and remained the sweet, happy person he always was in spite of it all.  
• His love for his family - Of course he loved his parents and siblings, but he adored his nieces and nephews, and got the biggest kick out of watching them play with and around him.

Tim was only 3 years old when I left on my mission, so I didn't really expect him to remember me when I got home two years later.  When I arrived at the airport he obviously enjoyed having so many family members around, but I could tell he didn't really remember who I was.  He picked up on the fact that the rest of the family was happy to see me and I must have seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't quite fit me in.  Throughout that first day home he kept looking at me trying to figure out where exactly he had seen me before.  I was familiar, but why was I familiar?  Then it happened - he remembered who I was and his whole face just lit up.  He laughed, straightened up his whole body and leaned over to reach for me.  For the rest of the day he laughed and giggled when I was near him.  It made my day.

Te hecho de menos carnalito.