Tweet
This is the best thread I can think of to put this post.
I went to the Be One celebration last week, to commemorate the 40th year of the revelation on the priesthood. I was surprised to see almost all, if not all, of the Q12 there, and each member of the First Presidency participated, this must have had very significant meaning to all of them. Pres. Eyring conducted, and Pres. Oaks gave the introductory speech, talking about the day he heard the revelation back in June 1978. It felt like Pres. Oaks gave the historical recitation to make sure that not even a jot or tittle of an apology slipped though, although none of those old-school justifications in defense of the ban slipped through either.
After Oaks' remarks, the program was turned over to Gladys, who has long complained that Mormon congregations have boring musical worship. She was called to her position by The Brethren, and I know she got her way at least a little bit when, prior to the singing, Elder Oaks actually announced that during the subsequent music program, the audience was expected to clap and sing and applaud. Attending Mormons turned to each other befuddled, but visitors arrayed in daishikis and dhukus nodded in agreement, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
The first song by Gladys Knight's Unification Choir was breathtaking. Think of a rollicking traditional black choir, complete with bass, electric piano, drums, and guitar. Now add the power of all those voices in the choir loft, combined with the acoustics of the Conference Center, and the song was thrilling. Then Gladys came on and sang "Someday" from West Side Story, backed by the choir, and she has not. lost. one. iota of her vocal beauty and power.
I didn't like the first 10 minutes of dancing, but when they started telling the stories of those first black american and african converts, joining the church with no assurance that they would ever have the blessings of the priesthood and temple, it was a tearjerker. Then we find our that the narrators who were telling the stories of these black pioneers were their descendants; grandson, niece, daughter, etc. Anyone not already crying just lost it.
The thing I liked the best was that members got used to clapping and praising. They started standing for rousing applause over and over, and then cheering and shouts of "amen." Lots and lots of audience applause. Then, at the end of the musical program, President Nelson got up to speak. Significantly, the Conference Center was set up for the performance, so when the prophet got up to give his concluding remarks, he only had a stand microphone to speak with. No podium to stand behind, no physical barrier between him and the audience. It felt different, he felt closer to the people. Then, as he spoke, the audience continued with their applause and with shouts of "amen" and cheers at what he was saying. When the first applause broke out, about a minute into his remarks, I think it startled him a little, but he just swung with it and even started pausing for applause as he got used to it. (I could see the teleprompter operator had to pause his remarks quite a bit.)
Then he started reciting how the membership in African countries had tripled since the Revelation, and people rocked out, especially when President Nelson started listing all of the temples we have in Africa. Even when he got to more solemn topics, everyone clapped madly. I joined in clapping and whooping and my husband raised an eyebrow at me. I told him, "Well, when will I ever have the chance to rock out to applaud the prophet ever again? Not in my lifetime!" And when the President Nelson slowed down very slow to end his remarks with "... in the name of Jesus Christ..." and 10,000 voices joined him in saying his Amen. It was pretty joyous. I want that feeling back already.
I went to the Be One celebration last week, to commemorate the 40th year of the revelation on the priesthood. I was surprised to see almost all, if not all, of the Q12 there, and each member of the First Presidency participated, this must have had very significant meaning to all of them. Pres. Eyring conducted, and Pres. Oaks gave the introductory speech, talking about the day he heard the revelation back in June 1978. It felt like Pres. Oaks gave the historical recitation to make sure that not even a jot or tittle of an apology slipped though, although none of those old-school justifications in defense of the ban slipped through either.
After Oaks' remarks, the program was turned over to Gladys, who has long complained that Mormon congregations have boring musical worship. She was called to her position by The Brethren, and I know she got her way at least a little bit when, prior to the singing, Elder Oaks actually announced that during the subsequent music program, the audience was expected to clap and sing and applaud. Attending Mormons turned to each other befuddled, but visitors arrayed in daishikis and dhukus nodded in agreement, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
The first song by Gladys Knight's Unification Choir was breathtaking. Think of a rollicking traditional black choir, complete with bass, electric piano, drums, and guitar. Now add the power of all those voices in the choir loft, combined with the acoustics of the Conference Center, and the song was thrilling. Then Gladys came on and sang "Someday" from West Side Story, backed by the choir, and she has not. lost. one. iota of her vocal beauty and power.
I didn't like the first 10 minutes of dancing, but when they started telling the stories of those first black american and african converts, joining the church with no assurance that they would ever have the blessings of the priesthood and temple, it was a tearjerker. Then we find our that the narrators who were telling the stories of these black pioneers were their descendants; grandson, niece, daughter, etc. Anyone not already crying just lost it.
The thing I liked the best was that members got used to clapping and praising. They started standing for rousing applause over and over, and then cheering and shouts of "amen." Lots and lots of audience applause. Then, at the end of the musical program, President Nelson got up to speak. Significantly, the Conference Center was set up for the performance, so when the prophet got up to give his concluding remarks, he only had a stand microphone to speak with. No podium to stand behind, no physical barrier between him and the audience. It felt different, he felt closer to the people. Then, as he spoke, the audience continued with their applause and with shouts of "amen" and cheers at what he was saying. When the first applause broke out, about a minute into his remarks, I think it startled him a little, but he just swung with it and even started pausing for applause as he got used to it. (I could see the teleprompter operator had to pause his remarks quite a bit.)
Then he started reciting how the membership in African countries had tripled since the Revelation, and people rocked out, especially when President Nelson started listing all of the temples we have in Africa. Even when he got to more solemn topics, everyone clapped madly. I joined in clapping and whooping and my husband raised an eyebrow at me. I told him, "Well, when will I ever have the chance to rock out to applaud the prophet ever again? Not in my lifetime!" And when the President Nelson slowed down very slow to end his remarks with "... in the name of Jesus Christ..." and 10,000 voices joined him in saying his Amen. It was pretty joyous. I want that feeling back already.
Comment