“All Are Alike unto God”: Honoring Juneteenth and Building Zion

Zion is more than a concept. It’s a covenant. It’s the promise of a people “of one heart and one mind” who dwell together in righteousness without poor among them (Moses 7:18). As we commemorate Juneteenth—a celebration of freedom, resilience, and the end of slavery in the United States—it’s worth asking: how far have we come in building a Zion community that truly includes all of God’s children?

It would be easy to focus solely on the parts of our history about which we feel no doubt or reservations. But Zion is not built on shallow comfort. Zion is built on truth. And the truth is that, within living memory, Black members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have experienced profound exclusion.

For more than a century, Black individuals of African descent were denied access to the full blessings of the gospel—including priesthood ordination and temple covenants. No doctrinal revelation has been cited as the reason for this policy. And while past leaders may have believed they were upholding divine instruction, the reality is that some degree of racism—whether cultural, systemic, or subconscious—was a factor.

To deny temple ordinances is to deny the heart of our doctrine: the eternal nature of families, the power of sealing, the joy of full covenant belonging. And for generations of Black Latter-day Saints, that exclusion was not just doctrinal confusion—it was personal loss and spiritual grief. It’s only right to acknowledge that.

Many today, especially those discovering this history for the first time, may feel deep dissonance. How could God’s true Church—the one we proclaim to be led by prophets and sustained by revelation—have allowed such a policy to exist for so long? It’s a valid question, and the pain it brings is real. We must be willing to sit with that discomfort rather than rush to explain it away.

There are no perfect answers. But there is progress. On June 8, 1978, the Church announced that “all worthy male members of the Church may be ordained to the priesthood without regard for race or color.” That revelation, under President Spencer W. Kimball, was a watershed moment. Yet lifting the ban was just the beginning. Building Zion would require more than policy change—it would demand a change of heart.

The 1978 revelation opened the door, but it did not erase the past. Since then, however, the Church has taken meaningful steps to build bridges of understanding and healing. Some leaders have made increasingly clear statements denouncing racism, such as President Gordon B. Hinckley’s declaration that “[n]o man who makes disparaging remarks concerning those of another race can consider himself a true disciple of Christ.”

The prophet has also said those who harbor prejudice need to repent, and urged members to “lead out in abandoning attitudes and actions of prejudice.” President Dallin H. Oaks, speaking in the wake of George Floyd’s death in 2020, declared that “Black lives matter” is an “eternal truth.” These are not small things. They are prophetic acknowledgments that the cause of Zion is inseparable from the cause of justice.

Another example is the Church’s growing partnership with the NAACP, an alliance rooted in mutual respect and a shared desire to promote racial equality, education, and opportunity. Through this partnership, the Church has supported scholarships, education initiatives, and humanitarian projects in underserved communities across the United States.

In 2018, President Russell M. Nelson stood alongside NAACP leaders and reaffirmed the Church’s commitment to “its fundamental doctrine — and our heartfelt conviction — that all people are God’s precious children and therefore our brothers and sisters.”

In homes and across congregations, I have observed members of the Church engaging more openly in conversations about racial equality—seeking to learn, listen, and love more deeply. Saints from every background are finding ways to share their stories, celebrate diversity, and lift one another. It’s not always easy, and the work is far from over, but progress is unfolding.

Still, words must become actions, and progress must never become complacency. Today, we must ask ourselves: Do we see all members as full participants in the body of Christ? Are we intentional about inclusion in our leadership, our service, our friendships? Do our meetings reflect the diversity of God’s children?

It also falls on each of us to view Church history through the lens of faith and humility. We believe in continuing revelation, and that means understanding that past leaders—while inspired—were not immune to the culture of their time. This does not excuse prejudice where it has existed, but it offers a lens through which we can see both the struggles and the strength of a Church that evolves under the Lord’s direction.

The journey to Zion is not linear. It requires repentance, listening, and honoring the lived experiences of those who’ve walked this path in the margins. Juneteenth is a reminder of what it means to wait for freedom, and what it means to celebrate its arrival.

As Latter-day Saints, we can honor the legacy of Juneteenth by remembering the past and striving together to build a future Zion that reflects the truth that all are alike unto God (2 Nephi 26:33). That future is being shaped now, through friendships forged across difference and through our collective willingness to walk the path of discipleship together.

When the day comes—and I believe it’s steadily growing nearer—that all truly feel they belong, we will give thanks for the faith and strength of those who never stopped believing such a day could come, and for the privilege of building it side by side.

Holly Wallace

Holly Wallace is a writer and storyteller drawn to meaningful questions and overlooked details. Her work explores Latter-day Saint life and culture through faithful inquiry, inviting readers to pause, consider, and engage more deeply with what matters most.