Susan Easton Black - Jesus Christ in the Book of Mormon

A Fragile Testimony of Jesus Christ

When ye shall read these things,

if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them...

(Moroni 10:3)

When I was ten years old, truly memorable adventures in the classroom were rare. Any dramatic variety in the daily routine of the school doldrums was a fresh breeze to me. That is why I anticipated what was referred to in the Long Beach School District as religious released time: two weeks in which fifth- and sixth-grade students didnt attend school. Instead they attended a local church to study religion.

Excitedly I took home the note that informed my parents of my opportunity to be a part of released time. When my father read the note and realized that my options were to attend either the St. Barnabas Catholic Church, a Jewish synagogue, or a nondenominational worship service, he utterly refused to give his consent. It wasnt that my father was a stubborn man; it was that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was his foundation, and any possible threat to his or his daughters testimony was stopped at the front door. I tried to console myself with his answer, but for two weeks while my friends attended released time, I attended fifth grade alone. Can you imagine how boring even recess was? I vowed to be with my friends the next year, no matter what.

Running errands at home, clearing off the table, and cleaning my room all had the qualifying string attached: Now will you let me attend religious released time? Month after month I reminded my father of the personal disaster school had been for me without my friends. I improved my grades and was kinder to my younger brother, but to no avail. The night before released time was to occur in sixth grade, I cried and begged my father to reconsider his decision.

My father gave in but had a few qualifiers that I had to strictly obey. I was to carry a large-sized Book of Mormon at all times and wear my Primary bandalo made of green felt each day. In retrospect, I can only suppose my father assumed that with the bandalo hanging from my neck and a Book of Mormon held in my arms, I was fully clad in the armor of God and ready for any and all attacks to my testimony.

I ran to school that day. When I met up with friends on the playground, their first question was, Can you come? Their second question was, What is that green thing around your neck? I assured them that I was comingand that the bandalo was a Mormon thing.

The attack on my fragile testimony came the first day from the minister of the nondenominational church. As he began to speak to the assembled children, he announced that he would be talking about God, Christ, and the Holy Ghost. He explained to us, The Godhead is three in one, and one in three. Though perplexed by his statement, I listened intently to his explanation so that I could better understand his message. His explanation did not define three in one or one in three but instead described where God lives. Children, God is in a cloud.

I knew that God had a body, and so in my childish mind I began to see his body stretched until it was as large as a cloud. The Lord appeared huge to me.

With this image in my mind, I heard the minister say, Children, God is in a tree.

I imagined this very large being now becoming elongated so that he could dwell in the trunk of a tree.

The minister further stated, Children, God is in a flower.

In my mind, the Lord had suddenly shrunk. He was very tiny.

I raised my hand, but the minister did not look at me. Instead, he droned on with a myriad of inconsistencies. To get his attention, I waved my hand back and forth. Again, I went unnoticed.

Children, God is in a raindrop, the minister said.

In my mind I saw rain dripping and said to myself, Are you in this drop? Or in this one? Or in that?

I could stand the ministers message no longer. I jumped to my feet and yelled, Stop!

The minister stopped. The boys and girls who had been whispering and passing notes stopped. The PTA mothers who were chaperoning us stopped reprimanding my friends. Everyone stopped and stared.

Whats wrong, little girl? the minister asked.

What you have just said is not true! I said.

What is not true?

I said boldly, God does not live in a cloud, a tree trunk, a flower, or a raindrop. That is because God has a body just like mine and yours.

Visibly upset, the minister asked, How do you know that?

I quickly looked at my bandalo, hoping it would give me a clue about where I had gotten my knowledge, but it did not. I then looked at the book I was carrying. I held up my large Book of Mormon and said, It says so in this book.

Oh, that, replied the minister.

Dismissing the remainder of the opening devotional, he invited the other children to attend religious workshop classes. He invited me to come immediately to his office.

My friends gathered around me to assure me I was in trouble. It wasnt that I had never been to the principals office before, but I had never been to a ministers office.

It was no small circle of friends that pointed the way to his office, but I entered alone. The minister inquired about my bandalo, but he was definitely more interested in my book.

Where in that book does it say God has a body? he asked.

I flipped through several pages quickly, hoping to open to just the right verse.

He then exclaimed, You appear to be having difficulty locating what you are seeking. Could it be that you have never read the Book of Mormon?

I admitted, I have never read this book.

Angered by my outburst in the chapel and now my ignorance as to my knowledge of God, he opened the door of his office and invited a PTA mother to escort me back to school.