S e g u l l a h
Linear Thoughts . . . Acts of Creation
Preparation
For all have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God. (D&C 46:11)
My seven-year-old granddaughter asked if I would make Halloween cards with her for a school party. In anticipation, she collected construction paper and markers and confidently began drawing witches, goblins and spiders. With trepidation, I picked up the same paper and markers and hesitantly began drawing. Her cards were better than mine.
Such is the level of my artistic talent—subpar to that of a seven-year-old. At the time this and other creative gifts in music, drama, or textile design were passed out, I was passed over. I think in concrete terms, not abstract concepts. I function in straight lines, not meandering designs. Planning a regional meeting won't cause my pulse to race, but planning a centerpiece will. I have always struggled with conflicting feelings of admiration and envy towards those who naturally are gifted at coaxing random elements into works of beauty. Wistfully, I always wondered if I, too, could ever bring joy to others through creativity.
Inspiration
For I will tell you in your mind, and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost . . . ” (D&C 8:2)
It was mid-September, 2000, when I walked into a 19th century brick rowhouse in Washington, DC. Upon entering, I stopped, transfixed by the unexpectedly familiar sight before me. Dozens of Byzantine icons, painted and bejeweled, hung on the walls. Their solemn faces were draped with scarves of brilliant colors or encircled by haloes of holiness. I knew these eyes. Brown and soulful, they fixed mine with a collective stare and seemed to follow me as I circled the room, marveling at their ethereal beauty. Years ago, they had watched me from the ornate altars of the Greek Orthodox Church of my childhood. I could almost hear the priest chanting and smell the pungent incense, its smoky haze stinging my eyes.
I took my seat in the room, ready to focus on the Diversity seminar that had just begun and which was required by my employer. But as the morning progressed, I gazed at the icons more than my handouts. These symbols of my heritage reminded me that upon baptism, I had turned away from the culture of my ancestors. With a pang of regret, I recognized that I had done exactly what our prophet counsels us not to do.
At that point, I mentally checked out of the conference as strong impressions suddenly and inexplicably entered: our beautiful Temple Visitor's Center, the growing cultural diversity of our area (over 70 languages are spoken in my stake alone!) and President Hinckley's counsel to reach out to others with a spirit of appreciation and goodwill. One thought at a time, line upon line, a new concept poured into my mind: our church could develop an effective outreach program by organizing exhibits and programs to honor the many cultures and faiths in our multi-national community. Thus, new bridges of understanding and respect could be built with our neighbors. The “big picture” and “how-to” details quickly crystallized in my mind. I could barely scribble notes fast enough, wondering how this enormous undertaking would develop. The answer came after sharing this experience with a member of my Stake Presidency. I was called to be my Stake's Public Affairs Director and given a mandate to explore these ideas. Stunned and humbled by this assignment and Lord's trust in me, a glaze of uncertainty settled over me–could I possibly do this?
Creation
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. (Isaiah 55:8)
An ensuing series of Stake activities at the Visitors' Center led me to become well acquainted with its Director. He was eager to explore new avenues of community outreach, and we discussed the unique opportunities available to the Church in our international city and the ideas that had come to me. In October 2001, he asked me to plan the first Black History Month celebration the following February. I was pleased but not surprised, excited yet apprehensive–my clear impression dissolved into a cloud of foggy details. Where do I start? Who can help? Obviously we needed the talents of others—artists, speakers, and someone to plan an exhibit—to make this happen. It took until mid-December to pull together a small planning committee of three people. Thankfully, it was then that the miracles began.
It just so happened that a committee member knew an LDS person who was well acquainted with a renowned private collector of African-American memorabilia. We set a meeting to see his artifacts and determine if they would be suitable for our display. Upon entering his small townhouse, we were stunned by the sight before us. Covering walls from floor to ceiling and lying on tables were original lithographs, historical letters, signed photographs, maps and documents from abolitionists, performers, athletes and politicians. I was awed by the creativity of the music, art and history that surrounded us. We walked through each room, seeing incredible treasures mounted on walls, resting on tables, hanging askew in hallways, stacked in the basement on metal shelving units—and gasped at the sight of a smoke detector disassembled, its wires dangling from the kitchen ceiling. Amazingly, the collector agreed to allow us to borrow more than 200 items that traced over 400 years of African-American history!
Thrilled at procuring this extensive collection, we said prayers of gratitude and set to work. If ever my straight-thinking mind was needed, this was it. I organized and tracked a myriad of details while others created a beautiful gallery. They devised an exhibit layout, artistically hung pictures and photographs, arranged perfect museum case displays (complete with black draped cloths and bright accent colors), and designed invitations, programs and publicity materials.
Always, we were acutely aware of the inestimable significance of this exhibit: the Mormon Church, still considered exclusionary by some with lingering questions about blacks and the priesthood, would host the first unveiling ceremony and public exhibit of this extraordinary historical collection! My emotions swung from disbelief to awe, with new insight into how the Lord works: He lays the groundwork by placing the right people in the right circumstances at the right time. In this case, he provided connections, people, and materials needed for our committee to fulfill His purposes. All we needed to do was play our part.
Opposition
For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. (2 Nephi 2:11)
The three of us had six weeks (including Christmas!) to complete what would ordinarily have taken eighteen months. To properly unveil the exhibit and launch an official celebration of African-American history, we had several events to plan: a formal ceremony with dignitaries and media representatives, special guest speakers, and an African-American family history conference. Except for securing the exhibit, everything in conjunction with creating and publicizing the first Black History Month was stalled or road-blocked. There were numerous communication mishaps that caused contention. Publicity materials were not delivered on time. Three museum cases, needed for fragile artifacts, were unexplainably delayed in construction. Speakers were unavailable. People who could direct a choir or perform musical numbers were sick or out of town.
I was piqued—yet propelled—as each obstacle surfaced. There were times when I wondered if this would actually occur as planned. Ringing cell phones, streams of e-mails, and endless meetings were our committee's lifeline. Despite the chaos, a sense of peace prevailed. Burning within us was an understanding of the Lord's direction of this activity; all who were involved, even in the smallest degree, recognized that same spirit. Knowing beyond a doubt that these events must occur sustained me through days of cliff-hanging frustration. The Lord had brought us together, each with a specific talent, networking connection, or inspired thought. We created a synergy unparalleled to anything I had experienced. I was profoundly humbled to see how my career background and gifts of organization and vision contributed to our ultimate success. Overcoming one obstacle after another, our committee pressed on, recognizing that it was through our hands that the Lord would display His.
Culmination
Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great. (D&C 64:33)
The pictures were hung; the last museum case was locked. I entered the absolute stillness of the room and stopped, transfixed by the sight and spirit that enveloped me. Yet another group of brown, soulful eyes stared back at me–Marion Anderson, Jackie Robinson, Frederick Douglass, and many others. I felt their presence. I sensed their joy at being together in this hallowed space. I cried at the injustices they suffered as they struggled to share their gifts of creativity and vision with humanity, and at the insidious prejudice that still lurks under the fixed smiles of the unenlightened in our society. I marveled that despite the sting of intolerance, they persevered and developed their gifts, creating timeless works of history, music, and art that have inspired millions and contributed to the work of the Lord.
The exhibit drew thousands of people during its seven-month display. Many had tears in their eyes after seeing for the first time documents and pictures that brought history to life: a slave plantation manager's book, an original 1840 print of L'Amistad, a first-edition of Phillis Wheatley's book of poetry, a note from Dr. Martin Luther King written from jail. There was something that touched every visitor's soul, regardless of their cultural background.
Heartfelt expressions of gratitude filled our comment book; many visitors recognized the spirit that was ever-present in the room: “We experienced the presence of Frederick Douglass and other founding fathers and mothers of African American freedom,” wrote one guest. “This is truly a gift to humanity from up above. Thanks to all those who had part in this exhibition and thanks to Him who is our Creator,” penned another. A distinguished member of the African-American community emphatically stated, “It is God's will that this exhibit is in this place at this time.”
. . .Continuation
Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ . . . having . . . a love of God and of all men . . . (2 Nephi 31:20)
“How will you ever top this?” a visitor on tour asked me. “We can't,” I replied, “but we will keep bringing events like this to the community.” And we are, as the outreach programs continue. Over the past four years, hundreds of people not of our faith have participated as exhibitors, speakers, dancers, and choir members; thousands have joined us as audience. Along with Black History Month, we commemorate Asian/Pacific Islander Month, Hispanic Heritage Month, Women's History Month, and others. A bridge of commonality has been built over the waters of perceived differences. People from church and community are crossing it from both sides and meeting in the middle with newfound respect and mutual appreciation for each other. We are learning together—on a very personal level—that we are truly brothers and sisters, watched over by one God and guided by the same Spirit.
The Lord does manifest His will to the least of us, His children. I rejoice in seeing how He can use my talents in His creative works. He prepared me all along, from my innate gift of linear thinking to my profession in diversity training, to assist in this assignment at this time. There is a customized part for each of us in His plan, predicated on our strengths, abilities, and desires to be engaged in His work in our little corner of Zion. And His plan is about creating goodness and opportunities to love and serve others.
As far as arts and crafts, I'm still woefully deficient but determined to make progress. Happily, I have just discovered quilting! Perfect squares match perfect triangles and are sewn in straight lines, creating artistic patterns of beauty. Now, this is something that I can do.
CAROL PETRANEK, a mother of four and grandmother of eleven, resides in Silver Spring, Maryland with her husband, Gary. She currently serves as the Public Affairs Director of the Silver Spring Stake, member of the Executive Board of the Washington Temple Visitors' Center Cultural Arts Committee, and Temple worker. She keeps her life centered around service work, family history research, and numerous trips to visit children and grandchildren. She borrows her motto from Heber C. Kimball: “It is far better to wear out than rust out!”
