Genealogy, Family History, and Temple Work

Those who know I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (i.e., I am a Mormon), may know that we seem to place a large emphasis on not our living families but also our family histories. The LDS church is known for its extensive Family History Libraries and Centers throughout the world, for its free online program, FamilySearch, and maybe even our partnering with the International Genealogical Index to digitise census, birth, marriage, and death records.

Growing up in the church, I never really did much with family history. Sure, from time to time I would write out a four or five generation pedigree chart, but I didn't know my family's stories. (There were a lot of reasons for this that I won't go into here, but suffice it to say that there were a lot of hard feelings when my parents left Pennsylvania and then left the church they had both been raised in.)

As a young adult, I first began to dabble in family history when I was asked to lead and coordinate temple and family history work in my student congregation while at the University of Illinois. I found joy in my service and loved being able to arrange ways for my friends to go to the temple regularly and to help them find resources for learning their own family histories, but it genealogy still wasn't something that totally grabbed my attention.

About two years ago, the LDS church announced that all members of the church would be given free access to ancestry.com. Gretchen and I both eagerly signed up and began digging through archival records online, building our respective family trees. And then the Spirit of Elijah finally hit me. I felt my heart turned to my fathers (and mothers) and frequently called home to tell Mum or Dad about something I had found out or ask them if they knew about such-and-such ancestor. I realised that there are stories hidden in the census reports if you read them carefully, like the fact that both of grandmothers found themselves helping to raise and support their brothers and sisters after their mothers had passed away at a relatively early age. Stories about marriage, childbirth, infant loss, divorce, second and third marriages, moving across town or across the country: all of these were found in documents that were, on the surface, simply lists of names, dates, and places.

I started connecting the records I found on Ancestry to my FamilySearch account and coordinating temple work with my oldest brother. (A side note about temple work: In the LDS church, we believe that men and women are taught the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the next life if they have not had the opportunity to accept it in this, and that we can act as proxies to vicariously perform ordinances such as baptism on their behalf so that they can accept the ordinances in the next life.) Within the church, members often talk of taking "names" to the temple. I realised something, though: I don't do that. In fact, I have long since stopped taking names to the temple, although I try to go to the temple to worship as often as circumstances allow. (Temple worship is different from our regular Sunday services and takes place in temples instead of meetinghouses.)

After Dad passed away this past February, my family was blessed to come into contact with a professional genealogist who has collected and digitised thousands of records from Slovenia. Finally, after years of only knowing the names of my great-great-grandparents, Andrew Valencic and Josephine Barbish or Nadah (we didn't know for sure what her maiden name was), we were given access to several more generations and family members we never knew about. For the past seven months or so, I have been collecting and organising digital records of my family on all sides: Valencics, yes, but also Szymkowiaks, Wilsons, and Tesslers, not to mention the Potocnis, Barczykowskis, Bards, and Harchicks.

In Sunday School today, I was asked to prepare a few thoughts about genealogy, family history, and temple work. (This blog post represents a greatly expanded version of what I shared.) One thing I wanted to emphasise was the point I made above: I don't prepare or take names to the temple. No, I prepare and take family members to the temple. They are not just names on a screen or on a card; they are real people with real stories that mean something of great value to me and, I hope, to the rest of my family.