A Matter of Faith
Keith N. Hamilton (JD ’86) had no idea his life was about to change profoundly on a muggy North Carolina afternoon in 1980.
He believed he had reached the pinnacle of life as a black male college student at North Carolina State University. Hamilton was a popular DJ who had parlayed that success into doing private dances and occasional club gigs. His fraternity had a strong campus presence, and with only a couple of classes required for graduation, he anticipated a fun-filled senior year.
But sometime during the afternoon of Aug. 7, two young men in white shirts, dark slacks, and ties knocked on his door. Hamilton, seeing them sweltering in the scorching sun, invited them in for ice water. When he learned they were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he was surprised, declaring he did not think Mormons were recruiting blacks. After he was advised otherwise, he said, “Well, whenever you’re in the neighborhood, stop by.” That was all the encouragement they needed, and the missionaries—now frequent visitors—challenged Hamilton to get an answer about the gospel. His prayers led to his testimony and changed his life. In a little more than two weeks from hearing about the Church, Hamilton became a faithful Latter-day Saint.
“I wasn’t taken in by a couple of missionaries,” he says. “They were true messengers, and I found a truth that resonated and guides my life. Yet I know my experience is unique to me. I mean, how many members of the Church were black boys growing up the Deep South during the Jim Crow era? My grandfather was a Southern Baptist minister. I saw the unfolding of the Civil Rights movement. This wasn’t really an easy path.”
Comfortable and faithful with the doctrine, Hamilton’s assimilation into the culture of the faith was challenging. “LDS culture, like any other specific culture, has its own unique vernacular, composed of completely uncommon words: Patriarchal Blessings, Quorums of the Seventy, and the Relief Society. And what had I ever heard about Adam-ondi-Ahman. Deseret, and people named Amulek and Moriancumer?”
“I also wondered how people would respond to me, he says. “I wanted people to recognize that I’m a person of worth and not avoid me because my skin didn’t look like theirs or I was from another part of the country in a completely different world,” he says. “It’s a good thing I’m outgoing and don’t accept being overlooked.”
After graduating from college, Hamilton planned to enroll in the J. Reuben Clark Law School. His bishop intervened, however, suggesting a mission, and Hamilton served in Puerto Rico. He then entered law school as BYU’s first black student and embarked on a career that has included the military, work at the BYU Alumni Association, serving on the Utah parole board, and teaching classes at BYU’s law school.
While Hamilton says the Church’s background on blacks and the priesthood has never bothered him, a few experiences he had in the late 1980s while serving first as counselor then as bishop of the San Francisco Bay Ward motivated him to research the historical relationship between blacks and the Church to help those for whom the black issue is a stumbling block. Hamilton’s research became so extensive, he realized he had enough material for a book. After 20 years of research and two years of full-time writing, the result is Last Laborer, Thoughts and Reflections of a Black Mormon. The first half of the book is his autobiography, and second is what Hamilton calls a “doctrimonial” text where he shares his personal story of faith, testimony, trial and triumph.
Among the reviewers of Hamilton’s book is Edward L. Kimball, retired BYU law professor, who wrote, “Beyond telling a fascinating story of his life and conversion, Keith Hamilton illuminates what it means to be black and Mormon . . . This is a careful, thoughtful book.”
“I just hope people feel the song of my soul and my testimony about God’s plan,” Hamilton says.
He believed he had reached the pinnacle of life as a black male college student at North Carolina State University. Hamilton was a popular DJ who had parlayed that success into doing private dances and occasional club gigs. His fraternity had a strong campus presence, and with only a couple of classes required for graduation, he anticipated a fun-filled senior year.
But sometime during the afternoon of Aug. 7, two young men in white shirts, dark slacks, and ties knocked on his door. Hamilton, seeing them sweltering in the scorching sun, invited them in for ice water. When he learned they were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he was surprised, declaring he did not think Mormons were recruiting blacks. After he was advised otherwise, he said, “Well, whenever you’re in the neighborhood, stop by.” That was all the encouragement they needed, and the missionaries—now frequent visitors—challenged Hamilton to get an answer about the gospel. His prayers led to his testimony and changed his life. In a little more than two weeks from hearing about the Church, Hamilton became a faithful Latter-day Saint.
“I wasn’t taken in by a couple of missionaries,” he says. “They were true messengers, and I found a truth that resonated and guides my life. Yet I know my experience is unique to me. I mean, how many members of the Church were black boys growing up the Deep South during the Jim Crow era? My grandfather was a Southern Baptist minister. I saw the unfolding of the Civil Rights movement. This wasn’t really an easy path.”
Comfortable and faithful with the doctrine, Hamilton’s assimilation into the culture of the faith was challenging. “LDS culture, like any other specific culture, has its own unique vernacular, composed of completely uncommon words: Patriarchal Blessings, Quorums of the Seventy, and the Relief Society. And what had I ever heard about Adam-ondi-Ahman. Deseret, and people named Amulek and Moriancumer?”
“I also wondered how people would respond to me, he says. “I wanted people to recognize that I’m a person of worth and not avoid me because my skin didn’t look like theirs or I was from another part of the country in a completely different world,” he says. “It’s a good thing I’m outgoing and don’t accept being overlooked.”
After graduating from college, Hamilton planned to enroll in the J. Reuben Clark Law School. His bishop intervened, however, suggesting a mission, and Hamilton served in Puerto Rico. He then entered law school as BYU’s first black student and embarked on a career that has included the military, work at the BYU Alumni Association, serving on the Utah parole board, and teaching classes at BYU’s law school.
While Hamilton says the Church’s background on blacks and the priesthood has never bothered him, a few experiences he had in the late 1980s while serving first as counselor then as bishop of the San Francisco Bay Ward motivated him to research the historical relationship between blacks and the Church to help those for whom the black issue is a stumbling block. Hamilton’s research became so extensive, he realized he had enough material for a book. After 20 years of research and two years of full-time writing, the result is Last Laborer, Thoughts and Reflections of a Black Mormon. The first half of the book is his autobiography, and second is what Hamilton calls a “doctrimonial” text where he shares his personal story of faith, testimony, trial and triumph.
Among the reviewers of Hamilton’s book is Edward L. Kimball, retired BYU law professor, who wrote, “Beyond telling a fascinating story of his life and conversion, Keith Hamilton illuminates what it means to be black and Mormon . . . This is a careful, thoughtful book.”
“I just hope people feel the song of my soul and my testimony about God’s plan,” Hamilton says.
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