They had come from basically three areas. Near the west window sat the Knights and the Stowells from Colesville and South Bainbridge. Some of Joseph’s earliest and most consistent supporters, they had led a group of about twenty on the hundred-mile trek from the southernmost part of the state to Fayette.
The Steeds had come with those from Palmyra and Manchester townships. The Smiths were the largest part of that group—which included Father and Mother Smith, Samuel, Hyrum and his wife, Jerusha, Joseph and Emma, Don Carlos, and William. Martin Harris was also there, sitting comfortably next to Nathan and Melissa. Orrin Porter Rockwell and his mother and sister, neighbors to the Smiths, had also come.
Finally, there was the Fayette group itself. Most conspicuous, of course, were the Whitmers, with father, mother, five sons (two with wives), and their daughter Catherine and her husband, Hiram Page. But there were others as well—the rest of the Pages, the Jolleys, and others—those who had become associated with Joseph since the previous June when the Whitmers had taken Joseph and Emma and Oliver into their home.
They came from diverse backgrounds and places, but all were knit together by their love of God and their conviction that he was working once more among the children of men. No wonder an almost reverential feeling gripped those present, leaving the air charged with great expectancy.
In one corner, Joseph Smith was conferring quietly with Oliver Cowdery. Next to them, on a small sideboard, was a round loaf of bread set on a plate next to a large pewter mug filled with wine. Joseph checked them quickly. Then, satisfied, he straightened and turned around. Almost instantly the room fell quiet. He smiled and moved over to stand in front of the fireplace where he could see the full group better.
“Brothers and sisters, my dear friends. It is time we call this meeting to order. We are met this day to officially organize a new church. According to the laws of the state of New York, we must have from three to nine trustees in order to form a legally recognized religious organization.”
Several people were nodding.
“Therefore, I designate myself, Joseph Smith, Junior, and the following men as trustees of the new Church of Jesus Christ—Oliver Cowdery, Hyrum Smith, Peter Whitmer, Junior, Samuel H. Smith, and David Whitmer.”
Mary Ann looked at each in turn as Joseph said their names. Young men, each one. At thirty, Hyrum was the eldest. Joseph would not be twenty-five until December. Peter Whitmer, not long past twenty, was the youngest, though Joseph’s brother Samuel was only just twenty-two. David and Oliver were nearer to Joseph’s age.
Joseph then suggested that all present kneel together in solemn prayer to invoke the Lord’s blessings on the procedures. The quarters were a little crowded, but in a moment all were on their knees. It was a prayer as simple and unpretentious as the place in which they met, a prayer filled with both thanksgiving and supplication. Mary Ann found herself echoing the words in her own heart, making it a personal offering of rejoicing and prayer as well as one for the group.
As the group stood and found their seats again, Joseph cleared his throat. “My brothers and sisters.” It seemed as though his eye caught and held everyone present. Mary Ann felt a quick thrill as the solemnity of the occasion settled upon her. “We are met for the express purpose of organizing the Church of Jesus Christ again upon the earth. Oliver Cowdery and I have been called and chosen under the hands of angels to act as presiding elders. Those present who can accept Oliver and me as your teachers and who are in favor of organizing a church, please indicate so now.”
Mary Ann raised her hand, glancing around quickly. Every hand was up, every eye riveted on this tall young man with the cheerful demeanor.
“Thank you. I propose, then, that I now ordain Oliver Cowdery as an elder in the Church, and that he do the same for me.”
Oliver came forward with his chair and sat down. Joseph laid his hands on his head and ordained him as an elder in the Church, empowered to act in the name of God and perform his ordinances with power and authority. He finished and they changed places, and Oliver performed the same ordination for Joseph. Then together they moved to the small sideboard where the bread and wine were set.
“It is fitting and proper that the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper be administered to those present who have already been baptized.”
A sharp pang of disappointment shot through Mary Ann. She fully planned to request baptism before this day was over, but as yet she had not done so. Surprised when someone took her hand, she looked up to see Melissa smiling at her. Melissa would not have the privilege of partaking either, but she was smiling, her eyes telling her mother it would be all right.
Joseph picked up two or three sheets of paper as Oliver began to break the bread into small chunks. “In preparation for this day, the Lord has given a revelation.” He held the sheets up. “It contains the articles and covenants by which the Church shall be governed. As part of that revelation, the Lord has given us the prayers which are to be used to bless the Lord’s Supper.”
He stepped back, looking through the sheets for a particular place. Then, as Oliver finished breaking the bread, Joseph knelt before the small sideboard, sliding the papers in front of him. He bowed his head, and all followed suit.
“O God, the Eternal Father,” he began, “we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.”
Bless and sanctify. And to the souls of those who partake. Not just the body, but the soul. Mary Ann felt the simple power of those words sink into her heart. That they may always have his Spirit! A promise of inestimable worth. The blessing had already been partially realized. Her soul was soaring!
Joseph got up from his knees and stood back as Oliver took the plate and moved slowly through the group. Mary Ann was surprised when she saw she was not in the minority. While several partook, many did not, for they had not yet been baptized. Martin Harris did not partake, which surprised her. She had assumed he had been baptized months before. Joseph’s parents also let the plate pass them by. She felt a little burst of envy as she watched Nathan reach out and reverently put the bread in his mouth.
Oliver returned and set the plate on the table, then he kneeled at the sideboard. Again all the heads in the room bowed. “O God, the Eternal Father,” Oliver read, “we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those who drink of it, that they may do it in remembrance of the blood of thy Son, which was shed for them; that they may witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they do always remember him, that they may have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.”
As the mug filled with the fruit of the grape passed from person to person and each of those who had been baptized sipped from it, Mary Ann felt the tears well up inside her. They were not tears of sorrow that she could not join in, but tears of joyful anticipation. The next time the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was administered, she would be ready to partake. Of that she was absolutely sure.
When the wine had gone around the room and returned to the table, Joseph stepped over to the fireplace again. “Brothers and sisters, when Peter and John went to Samaria, as is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, they met with those who had been previously baptized by Philip. It then says Peter and John laid hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost.”
He stopped, letting the import of that sink in for a moment. Then he continued: “Simon, the sorcerer, was so impressed by this remarkable gift, he offered Peter money so he might do the same. Peter rebuked him, for this power cannot be sold. The gift of the Holy Ghost can only be given by those who have been given authority from God to do so.”
His mouth softened into a happy smile. “
As part of the priesthood power restored to the earth through angelic ministration, Oliver and I can now bestow that gift upon you who have been baptized. We will also confirm you members of the Church of Jesus Christ.”
Those wonderfully alive blue eyes swung around until they rested on Mary Ann Morgan Steed and held her as though in a vice. “And those of you who have not as yet been baptized, rest assured that if it be your desire, before this day is through we shall find a place with sufficient water to bring you into the kingdom as well.”
It was early evening. The air was cool and the first of the spring mosquitoes were starting to come out and annoy man and beast. The group was gathered at the bank of a small stream, now dammed up enough to make the water nearly waist deep. Some present earlier had returned to their homes or the places where they were staying for the night, but there was still a goodly group who had come to witness the baptisms.
It was simply a capstone on the day’s activities, in Mary Ann’s mind. The meeting in the cabin had continued almost for another hour. She still felt a sense of wonder at being there, at being a part of it. It had been a time of rich spiritual outpourings. All those previously baptized had been confirmed. Several of those were filled with the Spirit immediately upon confirmation and rose from the chair praising God and, in some cases, prophesying.
Mary Ann turned and smiled at her son, her heart brim with joy. The moment Joseph and Oliver had completed the ordinance of confirmation for him, Nathan had stood and walked to face his mother. He took her hands, looking deep into her eyes, his own face aflame with joy. “Mother, by the power of the Holy Spirit within me, I testify that what has happened here this day is in accordance with God’s mind and will. And I say to you, the Lord is pleased with the purity of your heart. You shall live to become a great woman in the cause of truth and for the restored gospel. Your posterity, which shall be numerous upon the earth, shall rise up and call you blessed.”
Then suddenly he had stopped, and tears sprang to his eyes. “And through your example of love and faith and patience, your good husband—our father—shall someday be led to exclaim that Joseph Smith is the Lord’s servant and did naught but God’s will.”
With tears streaming down his face, he then turned to his sister. “And you, dear Melissa, your heart is troubled. Let it be at peace. It is our Father’s will that you put aside your doubts and embrace his gospel. You have been reading in the Book of Mormon and you have felt the quiet power of the Spirit. That is the answer for which you seek. Be baptized by those holding authority, so you can also receive this most precious of gifts, given through the grace and power of God.”
Even now the memory of his words, and the expression on his face, sent chills running up and down Mary Ann’s spine.
“Father, if you would come down in the water.”
Joseph’s words pulled Mary Ann out of her reverie. He was standing in the midst of the creek. His father and mother stood before him on the bank, determined to be baptized at the hand of their son. Hyrum also stood nearby.
Joseph Smith, Sr., took Hyrum’s hand and stepped into the water. There was a quiet intake of breath as the cold water hit his flesh. Born five years before the Declaration of Independence, Father Smith was approaching his sixtieth year. To Mary Ann he seemed suddenly frail and vulnerable, but his face was calm and in repose. Joseph came to him and led him to the deepest portion of the creek. He smiled at him, then raised his right arm and bowed his head. “Joseph Smith, Senior,” he said solemnly, “having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Then the son put his hand behind the father’s back and lowered him gently into the water until he was completely submerged.
As Father Smith came out of the water, Joseph exclaimed, “Praise be to God! I have lived to see my own father baptized into the true Church of Jesus Christ!”
Mother Smith went next. She was barely five feet tall, if that, and the water came nearly to her chest. Emma stood near the water’s edge, smiling her encouragement, holding a large towel for when she came out. Joseph baptized her and then swept her up in his arms hugging her tightly. Martin Harris followed Mother Smith, smiling and talking animatedly as he completed the ordinance. Then Orrin Rockwell and his mother and sister were baptized. When they were done, Joseph climbed out of the creek and joined them on the bank.
Mary Ann’s face fell. “Joseph, Melissa and I also desire to be baptized.”
“Aye?” he said, his eyes teasing. “Is that true, Melissa? Would you indeed choose to be baptized?”
“Yes, Joseph,” she said happily. “I have made up my mind.”
“Good.” He bent over and began to squeeze the water from his trouser legs.
Mary Ann was dismayed. “Well?” she prompted.
Joseph was enjoying himself. He straightened slowly. “Sister Steed, do you not recollect that Nathan Steed, who I believe is your son, was not only confirmed a member of the Church this day but was also given the priesthood of Aaron and was ordained to the office of priest in that priesthood?”
She was puzzled. “Yes.”
“And did you know that in the articles and covenants of the Church which I have before mentioned, we learn that a priest has the power to baptize?”
Nathan’s head came up sharply.
“Do you mean…?” She stopped, overwhelmed.
“Yes, Sister Steed. I think it fitting that you and Melissa be brought into the kingdom of God by your own flesh and blood.”
He turned to Nathan. “You’d best be getting into the water, young man.” He clapped him on the shoulders. “The prayer must be properly done, but I’ll help you.”
It was a little past noon by the time Nathan had unloaded his family and their belongings at the house, unhitched and fed the team, and then walked to his own homestead. He was still fired with the events of the previous day, and even his father’s grumpy welcome had not dampened his spirit.
As he came around the barn, he stopped. A slight fluttering movement at the cabin caught his eye. There was a sheet of paper there, tacked to the front door. Puzzled, he moved across the yard.
As he stepped onto the porch and leaned forward, he felt his heart leap. There was only a single line of writing, but he recognized it instantly. It was Lydia’s handwriting! He peered at it more closely. “Book of Ruth, chapter one, verses sixteen and seventeen.”
He dropped his valise with a heavy clunk, snatched the paper from the door, and turned and strode quickly to the barn. He went to his shelf and took down the small Bible he kept there, fumbling in his haste. When he finally found the place, he read slowly, the words leaving him a little dazed.
And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
The words suddenly blurred and Nathan felt his eyes burning. Could this really mean…?
Feeling his pulse racing, he turned back to the book.
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.
Slowly he read over the passage again, his mind reeling, not daring to hope it meant what it seemed unmistakably to mean.
There was a soft noise behind him and Nathan whirled. Lydia stepped out from one of the livestock stalls. She stood motionless, hands clasped together in front of her, her dark eyes watching him solemnly.
“Lydia?” he cried softly.
“Hello, Nathan.”
He took a step toward her and stopped. His eyes registered several things at once. Her dark hair was slightly tousled. There were small pieces of meadow hay on the skirt of her dress. Her eyes were large and filled with a curious mixture of joy and weariness. In her hands she clasped a book.
Nathan stared. It was a small book with a light brown leather cover. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the Book of Mormon! The
book he had sent her. He nearly threw himself across the space toward her, but something in her eyes held him.
He held up the Bible. “Does this—” He stopped, wanting to choose the words very carefully. He still held the sheet of paper from the door. He thrust it out. “You wrote this?”
She nodded.
“Does that mean…?” He shook his head. “Are you saying…?” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. There had been so much pain between them previously. If this was some cruel joke, or if he was misinterpreting what was happening, he could not bear it.
Her lips softened and her eyes were suddenly glistening. “Yes, Nathan, that’s what I’m saying.”
He fell back a step, too stunned to believe his ears. She laughed through her tears. “Does the thought of marriage so terrify you?”
“Marriage?” he echoed.
She took a step forward, her eyes filled with tears, but teasing him. “You’re not going to withdraw your offer now, are you?”
He finally came out of his shock. In two great strides he was to her and swept her up in his arms, nearly crushing her. “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia,” was all he could say as she laughed and cried with him all at once.
When he set her down finally, he reached out and took her face in his hands. He kissed her gently. “Oh, my darling Lydia, can this truly be happening?” he whispered.
In answer she kissed him back, then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. Suddenly he felt her body begin to tremble, then start to shake with sobs. Surprised, he stepped back. As he looked at her, she fought back her tears, fighting for control.
“Lydia, what’s the matter?”
She started to shake her head, then her lip started to tremble and she looked away quickly.
“Tell me. What is it?”
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