Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  Mrs. Dawson was the landlady of the small boardinghouse in which the missionaries were staying, and was therefore close enough to them to be quite open with them. She wagged her finger at Heber. “Brother Kimball, all of these details are most interesting, but what we’re all waiting to hear is, did you or did you not get to preach in the reverend’s church as you promised his daughter?”

  Heber just gave her an impish smile; then, imitating their own west Lancashire accent, he said, “I cahn’t believe you bloomin’ Englishmen. Ya got no patience at all. Won’t even let a gentleman tell a proper story, ya won’t.”

  Good-natured laughter rippled through the group as Mrs. Dawson blushed. Heber was well liked, and his teasing with them endeared him to them all the more. He waited for things to quiet again, then went on. “The next morning, being the Sabbath, I accompanied the reverend and his family to his church at the hour appointed. It was a goodly congregation. Fine people.” He smiled as Mrs. Dawson stirred again, then hurried on. “When the meeting started, the reverend gave out the hymns and prayed, and then he called on me to preach to those present.”

  There were numerous exclamations of satisfaction.

  “I preached to an overflowing congregation on the principles of salvation. I likewise preached in the afternoon and the evening. By the time we finished, nearly the whole congregation was in tears. I preached again on the following Monday and Wednesday.” His voice softened. “And on Thursday six individuals came forward for baptism. That seemed to alarm Mr. Richards. I think he was beginning to see all of this as a threat to his livelihood. But fortunately, unlike the Reverend James Fielding here in Preston, I’m pleased to say that Mr. Richards did not turn bitter—at least, not for now. He continued to manifest a kindly spirit and warm hospitality toward me. The following Sunday he once again gave out an appointment for me to preach. I baptized two the following day, and more are awaiting my return and will enter the kingdom soon.”

  A murmur of excitement and gladness swept through the group. Heber turned to Elder Orson Hyde, his fellow Apostle. “Brother Hyde informs me that he has received a letter from our companions in Cumberland, and as you can see”—he motioned to where John Goodson sat—“Brother Goodson has come down from Bedford and brought us a letter from Brother Richards there. I am happy to report that the work progresses well in both places. They have already baptized nineteen in Bedford and formed a branch there. And in Alston, the brethren there have baptized about the same number. Not to mention the success that Brother Hyde and Brother Fielding have continued to have in this area.”

  Now the group buzzed with excitement. Derek felt it too. The work was growing. Already nearly a hundred baptisms and that many more coming to meetings. That thrilled him. He was so on fire with the joy of the gospel, he wanted to shout it to the world. He had already started to quietly share the message with some of his fellow workers at the factory. Two of them, both women, were here tonight. One had her husband and two sons with her.

  His thoughts were pulled back as he realized Heber was talking again, but now his face had grown very sober and his voice was subdued. “My brothers and sisters, the news is gratifying in many respects. The work rolls forward like the stone Daniel saw which was cut out of the mountain without hands. But it does not go unopposed. We know that the adversary is violently opposed to what is happening. He is starting to rage in the hearts of men. In Walkerfold, for example, some of our people are being ill treated by their neighbors because they have joined those ‘Mormons from America.’ In Cumberland, some of the younger brothers and sisters who have requested baptism are being thrust from their homes by their parents unless they renounce the faith.”

  As cries of shock and disappointment erupted, Derek felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned. To his surprise, Peter was smiling at him. “What?” he mouthed.

  “At least we don’t have that problem in our family,” Peter whispered.

  Derek smiled back. “No, Peter. That’s one problem we don’t have.”

  * * *

  When Joseph returned from Canada in the closing days of August 1837, he was greeted with the grim news of what had been happening in his absence. The report of the near riot in the temple grieved Joseph deeply. Such actions could not be ignored. He called for a conference of the Church to be held on the following Sabbath, September third. One of the primary items on the agenda was the sustaining of the Church leaders and dealing with those who had violated the sanctity of the house of the Lord.

  Brigham Young—who had been away on a business mission and had returned to Kirtland on August nineteenth—knew that the opposition was determined and organized. He feared they would try to get enough support so that Joseph would not be sustained. So early that Sunday morning Brigham rose and dressed, and then went quietly from house to house, visiting every brother whose vote could be relied on. He asked that they be to the temple early and occupy the pulpit seats and the most prominent benches.

  When Sidney Rigdon, First Counselor in the First Presidency, stood and called for a vote by the priesthood quorums, Joseph Smith was unanimously sustained as the President of the Church. The vote for Sidney as First Counselor also carried unanimously. But the Saints refused to sustain Frederick G. Williams as Second Counselor. For months he had openly, and sometimes bitterly, criticized the Prophet. The Saints had had enough and found him unworthy of such a high office. Joseph then proposed that four assistant counselors be chosen. Joseph Smith, Sr.; John Smith, an uncle to the Prophet; and Joseph’s brother Hyrum were accepted without hesitation. But the fourth name, that of Oliver Cowdery, was not. Oliver had not completely broken with Joseph, but the congregation had serious reservations about him too. Joseph asked the priesthood brethren to pray for him so that he might yet “humble himself and magnify his calling,” and finally he was sustained.

  John Boynton and Luke and Lyman Johnson, of the Quorum of the Twelve, were rejected and disfellowshipped for their general apostasy and also for their part in the attempt to take over the temple. Several other troublemakers, including Warren Parrish, the man who had once served as scribe to Joseph, were also disfellowshipped.

  Another conference was called for later in the month, and the meeting was adjourned. To the vast relief of most present, things had gone with comparative smoothness, and relative calm seemed to settle over Kirtland again.

  * * *

  Dinner later on that same Sunday afternoon was not much like the usual Sabbath gatherings that had become traditional at the Steed house. The lighthearted bantering, the lazy conversation, the happy melee of the children racing around the house and yard—all of those were missing. Benjamin Steed had sent word to both of the married couples that they should make arrangements for someone to take the children immediately after dinner. There was to be a council of the Steed family, and it would be best if their attention wasn’t diverted by the activities of the children. Sensing that something significant was happening, both couples—Lydia and Nathan, and Melissa and Carl—independently decided not to bring the children at all.

  The mood through dinner was quiet and subdued. Rebecca barely said a word. Carl Rogers, Melissa’s husband, was particularly restrained. Melissa looked as if she had been crying before she arrived. Nathan seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts and only responded with a murmur or grunt when directly spoken to. Benjamin and Mary Ann kept looking at each other, but neither chose to give any hints about what was coming, and both kept what conversation there was directed toward general topics.

  Lydia kept finding herself stealing glances to where Benjamin sat at the end of the table. And each time she did, she winced inwardly. It had been exactly three weeks since that night he had gone to the Parrish house. Most of the swelling around his eyes and mouth had disappeared. But the bruises, once a shocking black or deep purple, were now a sickly yellow or dull brown. He still moved slowly, especially when he sat down or stood up. Occasionally, if he forgot himself and moved too quickly, the pain would slash across his face. Th
e doctor said his three broken ribs and a punctured lung were healing well, but it would be another month before he was back to normal.

  Finally dinner was done, to everyone’s vast relief. Mary Ann stood and reached over for Benjamin’s plate. Immediately, Rebecca, Melissa, and Lydia started to rise. Benjamin raised his hand, looking up at his wife. “The dishes can wait. Let’s move into the sitting room.”

  Mary Ann gave him a quick look. “Do you want pie?”

  He shook his head and pushed his chair back. “Let’s talk first.” For the first time, a tiny smile played around the corners of his mouth. “If we stay around this table much longer, someone’s going to have to start singing a funeral dirge.”

  Mary Ann smiled, then nodded in agreement. She turned to her children and in-laws. “Let’s go in where we can be more comfortable.”

  Benjamin stood by his favorite chair until they were all settled, then he moved around and sat down. He reached across to the small table where he kept his scriptures and picked up the copy of the Doctrine and Covenants. For a long moment he held it, his eyes looking down, his finger stroking the spine of the book slowly. Finally he looked up. He seemed surprised to find everyone watching him intently.

  “I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading in the last couple of weeks,” he began. He turned to Nathan. “Should have been out with you helping with the harvest, but . . .” He shrugged.

  “We’re makin’ on fine, Pa. You’re in no shape to be doing hard work.”

  Benjamin acknowledged that, then looked to his wife. “We used to spend a lot of time worrying about our properties here in town, but we’ve lost all those too now, so I seem to have a lot of time on my hands of late.”

  “You need to take it easy,” Melissa said. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  Again he absently acknowledged the comment with a nod, then he opened the book and began thumbing through it. He found what he was looking for almost immediately. He read silently for a moment, then looked up. “I love the Doctrine and Covenants,” he said. “It’s really our book. Even the Book of Mormon was given to an ancient people.” He held up the book. “This book was given directly to us.”

  Carl Rogers stirred slightly, and Melissa reached out quickly and laid a hand on his knee. If Benjamin saw the little interchange, he gave no sign. He lowered the book again and found the place he wanted. “I’d like to read you something the Lord said around seven months after Joseph came to Kirtland.” His finger went down to the page, moved quickly for a moment, then stopped. His voice softened as he began to read. “‘I willeth not that my servant Frederick G. Williams should sell his farm, for I the Lord willeth to retain a strong hold in the land of Kirtland. . . .’” He paused, then more slowly, and with greater emphasis, continued. “‘I the Lord willeth to retain a strong hold in the land of Kirtland, for the space of five years.’”

  Now there was not a sound in the room. Every head was turned toward him, every eye watching the tiniest movement of his face for clues as to where this was going. Every eye, that is, except for Mary Ann’s. She sat beside him, her hands folded calmly in her lap, her head turned so she could watch him, but without anxiety, or without questions.

  Again there was a tiny flicker of a smile on Benjamin’s face. “That was given in September 1831. Now it is September 1837. We’re a year overdue.”

  Nathan leaned forward. “Overdue for what?”

  Benjamin looked at Mary Ann, then reached across the table and took her hand with his free hand. He still held his copy of the Doctrine and Covenants in his other hand, one finger marking his place. “We’ve been thinking a lot about Missouri lately, your mother and me.”

  “Missouri?” Rebecca blurted.

  “Yes. We’re pleased that things are going so well for Jessica since her marriage, but your mother has been much concerned about Matthew. He’s still quite young to be all by himself, running a farm, with no family close by.”

  Lydia sat back in wonder. “You’re not thinking of . . .” Then she laughed softly. That was exactly what they were thinking of.

  Benjamin smiled at this daughter-in-law who had become as close to him as either of his natural daughters. “It’s been six years since the Lord said we could expect five years in Kirtland. With what’s happening now, I think we all see the handwriting on the wall. Kirtland’s heyday has passed.”

  Carl Rogers looked angry. “Kirtland is doing just fine.”

  “Oh, Carl,” Benjamin said, with just a touch of impatience, “I’m not talking about Kirtland as a town, but Kirtland as a place for the Latter-day Saints.” He turned and looked at Nathan and Lydia. “Now let me read you what the Lord says in this same revelation.” He opened the book again and read quickly. “‘And after that day’—after those five years are up—‘I the Lord will not hold any guilty, that shall go, with an open heart, up to the land of Zion.’ ”

  Melissa shot forward. “You and Mama are thinking of going to Missouri?”

  “You can’t!” Nathan cried, not waiting for the answer that was now quite obvious.

  “Why not?” Mary Ann said calmly. “What is there left for us here? The farms are gone. The crops you are harvesting now will only go to the new mortgage holder. Our property in town has gone into foreclosure. All we have left now is this house.”

  “And your family!” Melissa cried.

  Mary Ann looked away, her lip suddenly trembling. “Yes. And our family. But we have family in Missouri too.”

  Rebecca was shaking her head, half-incredulous and yet instantly accepting. Kirtland held no special attraction for her, not since Arthur Wilkinson had started spreading his stories about her. “Joseph is talking about all of the Saints gathering there,” she said to Melissa. “They’ve called a conference for later in the month to talk about that very subject.” Suddenly a thought hit her. “Maybe if we go, we could even find Joshua.”

  Benjamin’s head jerked around sharply, and his eyes were suddenly cold.

  Mary Ann jumped in quickly. “I don’t think so. First of all, it’s not safe to go to Jackson County. But if you remember, in one of Jessica’s letters almost a year ago she said that Joshua has gone, moved to Georgia or somewhere.”

  Rebecca’s face fell. “Oh, that’s right.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Mary Ann saw Nathan look away, though whether in gratitude or disappointment she could not tell.

  Benjamin cut in brusquely. “Your brother has nothing to do with this. He’s never answered our letters. He’s not been a part of our family for years. That’s not going to change.” Then, before Mary Ann could contradict him, he changed the subject. “After the meeting this morning, Joseph told me that he and Brother Rigdon are planning to go to Missouri after the next conference. Your mother and I are seriously thinking of going with them.”

  “In less than a month?” Lydia said softly, her eyes suddenly tearing. “So soon? So terribly soon?”

  Mary Ann swung around to Nathan and Lydia. “Come with us. There’s nothing to hold you here either, now that we’ve lost the farms. You don’t want to farm them for someone else.”

  Lydia was shaking her head slowly. “I . . .” She reached for Nathan’s hand. “Actually, we’ve been talking about going to Zion too. But . . .” She turned to her husband.

  Nathan gave her a questioning look, and she nodded. He looked at his parents. “Lydia is with child.”

  All three of the other women burst out together. “You are?”

  Lydia nodded happily. “Yes. The baby’s due in late April or early May.”

  “That’s wonderful, Lydia,” Benjamin said.

  Instantly, Rebecca was to Lydia and kneeling in front of her, clasping her hands. “It is wonderful, Lydia. I’m so happy for you.”

  Nathan touched his younger sister’s shoulder. “We’re very happy too, but we’ve already traveled once when Lydia was carrying a child. From Palmyra to here. It wasn’t much fun for her. We’d have to wait until spring.”

  Benjamin lea
ned forward, obviously pleased. “By spring we could have a place ready for you.”

  Mary Ann had turned to watch her oldest daughter. Melissa was staring at Lydia, forcing a smile, but her eyes were bleak. Mary Ann spoke very softly. “Melissa?”

  She turned.

  “We know what this means. But we also know that things are different for you. Carl has the livery stable here, and—” She stopped. And what? What else could she say? Carl despises the Mormons. Carl rejects everything that would draw us to Zion. Carl would laugh in our faces if we asked you to come with us.

  Melissa closed her eyes. “I know, Mama, I know.”

  Carl startled everyone by standing abruptly. His mouth was set in a tight line, and his eyes were grim. “I’m sorry, Benjamin, but there’s something we have to say.”

  Benjamin looked up at his son-in-law calmly. “Say on, Carl.”

  He blew out his breath, looking quickly at his wife, then away. “Melissa and I have been talking a lot about things lately too. We were glad when you said the family was going to meet to talk tonight.”

  And then in the face of Benjamin’s steady gaze, he lost his nerve. He reached down and pulled at Melissa’s arm. “Tell them, Melissa.”

  “Not now, Carl. Not with all this.”

  “Tell them!”

  Mary Ann stood and went to her daughter. She took her by the hands and pulled her up. For a long moment she looked into her eyes, holding her hands tightly. “I think your father and I already know, Melissa,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “You can tell us.”

  There was a stifled sob, a looking away, then slowly Melissa’s head came back to face her mother. “I can’t go on any longer, Mama. It’s tearing me apart.”

  Mary Ann bit her lower lip. “I know.”

  Melissa swung around, suddenly angry, turning on her father. “After what they did to you, Papa, how can you still be one of them?”