Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  “We will, Joseph,” Matthew said firmly. “We will.”

  He nodded, his face solemn now. He moved slightly so that he was directly in front of the two of them. “Matthew, would you take Jennifer Jo’s right hand with your right hand please?”

  Matthew did so, smiling down at her.

  “As a minister of Jesus Christ and a holder of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood, I now act in my office and unite you in holy matrimony. Matthew Steed, as you hold her hand in yours, do you take this woman, Jennifer Jo McIntire, to be your wife and companion; to love her and to cherish her as you love and cherish your own flesh; to provide for her and to care for her in whatsoever circumstances may befall you; to nurture and sustain her whether that be in health or illness, poverty or riches, youth or old age; and do you do this in the sight of God and all of these people who have gathered here to witness these proceedings?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

  “And do you, Jennifer Jo McIntire, take the hand of Matthew Steed as a token that you do take him to be your husband; to love and to cherish him above all others throughout your life and into the eternities; to stand by his side as Eve did with Adam through whatever circumstances life shall place upon you, be they pleasant or ill, difficult or easy; and do you do this in God’s sight and in front of those who are here with you this day?”

  She squeezed Matthew’s hand back and looked up into his face. “Yes.”

  Joseph smiled warmly now. “Then as an authorized representative of Jesus Christ, I pronounce you, Matthew Steed, and you, Jennifer Jo McIntire, to be husband and wife, legally wed in the sight of God and all men. Remember that you make this covenant with each other and with the Lord. If you keep that covenant, God will bless this union and bring you happiness and joy.”

  He turned to Kathryn and nodded. Almost shyly, Kathryn stepped forward and handed the ring to Matthew. “Now you’re really my family,” she whispered as she handed it to him.

  Matthew took the simple silver band and slipped it onto Jennifer Jo’s finger. Joseph was smiling broadly at them. “Matthew, you may now kiss this woman as your wife.”

  A cry went up and applause rang through the grove as Matthew turned to Jennifer Jo and took her in his arms. He gave her a lingering kiss before he let her straighten again. That sent the flower girls into a peal of giggles, which brought smiles all around.

  Turning to Benjamin and Mary Ann, Joseph motioned for them to join him. “I think it’s time for some congratulations, Mother and Father. You come up here and be the first.”

  Mary Ann got up quickly and went forward, her face shining with pride. She went to Jennifer Jo first and hugged her tightly. “Welcome to our family. We couldn’t love you more, Jennifer.”

  “And I you,” Jennifer Jo said, tears of happiness spilling over now. “You’ve been so good to me.”

  Benjamin had Matthew in a strong embrace. “We’re proud of you, son. Very proud. You’ve got yourself a wonderful woman.”

  “I know, Papa. Thank you. Thank you and Mama for everything.”

  They switched places, and now Mary Ann couldn’t bear it. The tears started all over again as she stretched up to kiss Matthew on the cheek. “Oh, my Matthew, my Matthew,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Mama.”

  “I know.” She hugged him hard, then stepped back again. “You’ve made us very happy today, Matthew,” she whispered.

  The others swarmed in around them now. Mary Ann and Benjamin stepped back to make way. Family, friends, well-wishers—they all pressed in to give their congratulations to the smiling couple. Mary Ann took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at the tears. “This is it, Benjamin. This is our last one.”

  He nodded, not speaking.

  They stood there together, off to one side, watching quietly. Finally, Benjamin put an arm around her waist. “That’s your family,” he said softly. “Look at them. Sons, daughters, husbands, wives, children, babies—this is quite the brood we’ve raised, Mrs. Steed. And every one of them here with us today.”

  She laid her head against his shoulder. “Isn’t it wonderful? And they’re still growing.”

  “There are not many finer things a man could ask for in life, are there?”

  She shook her head, and her voice was suddenly a fierce whisper. “No, I can’t think of anything I would trade for this. Not anything.”

  Book Six: The Work and the Glory - Praise to the Man

  The Work and the Glory - Praise to the Man

  Text illustrations by Robert T. Barrett

  © 1995 Gerald N. Lund and Kenneth Ingalls Moe

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Deseret Book Company,

  P. O. Box 30178, Salt Lake City, Utah 84130. This work is not an official publication of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of the Church or of Deseret Book Company.

  Bookcraft is a registered trademark of Deseret Book Company.

  First printing in hardbound 1995

  First printing in paperbound 2001

  First printing in trade paperbound 2006

  Visit us at DeseretBook.com

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 95-81231

  ISBN-10 0-88494-999-0 (hardbound)

  ISBN-10 1-57345-875-9 (paperbound)

  ISBN-10 1-59038-665-5 (trade paperbound)

  ISBN-13 978-1-59038-665-1 (trade paperbound)

  Printed in the United States of America

  Publishers Printing, Salt Lake City, UT

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  —Moses 1:39

  To Jewell G. Lund

  (1910–1995)

  He was a man who considered himself uneducated but who loved truth and sought for it all of his days. He was a man who never lost his love for learning. He was a man who never faltered in the quest to improve his understanding of the world, the people who inhabit it, and, most important, the God who rules us all.

  It was from him that I first learned about the greatness of God’s work and glory. It was at his feet that I first gained a testimony of the greatness of the Prophet Joseph Smith. And it was from him that I learned that truth is of such inestimable value that it is worth a lifetime of searching.

  Preface

  On a beautiful morning in the spring of 1820, Joseph Smith walked into a grove of trees near his home to seek an answer to the question that troubled him. Even as he knelt to pray, the powers of darkness gathered around him and tried to destroy him and stop the work of restoration that was about to unfold. Those powers were turned aside and Joseph was delivered by a blazing pillar of light.

  That initial experience would prove to be a type and a shadow of much of the life of Joseph Smith. Opposition rose on every side. Neighbors mocked him, ministers railed at their congregations against him, newspaper editors vilified him, families disowned those who dared to believe in his teachings. He was cursed and condemned, spit upon and slapped, tarred and feathered, jailed and shot at. Ambushes were laid, conspiracies hatched, plots initiated. He was hounded by mobs, betrayed by friends, sentenced to be executed by firing squad.

  Time and again, the powers of darkness tried to bring him and the work down. Time and again, higher powers intervened. “Thy days are known,” the Lord once told him, “and thy years shall not be numbered less.” And so it proved to be. He was protected, shielded, warned, and safeguarded. Sometimes this protective power was subtle and unseen, sometimes clearly miraculous.

  During the time period covered in Praise to the Man, volume 6 in the series The Work and the Glory, the season of joy described in volume 5 came to an end. At first, the forces that would eventually bring down a firestorm on the heads of the Saints were hidden, silent, treacherous. But that would end soon enough, and before it was over even the governor of the state would become part of the movement to destr
oy the Prophet. And this time the mobs would not be turned aside. This time the cries for blood would not be stilled. This time the rifles and the pistols would not misfire or miss the mark. Joseph’s work was done. The keys had been placed on the shoulders of others, and his Father said, “Come home.” Under the muzzles of more than a hundred blazing rifles fired by men with blackened faces, the life of the man whom God had chosen to usher in the last dispensation came to an abrupt and violent end.

  In the world and among the followers of darkness a great shout of triumph went up. How little did they understand that they had slain the man but not the work. Even the Saints, who waited in stunned, silent grief, did not fully comprehend that what Joseph had set in place and moved forward so boldly could not be ended with powder and ball. They had not yet remembered that as early as 1828, long before Joseph fully knew that his path would take him to Carthage Jail, the Lord said to him: “The works, and the designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught. . . . Remember, remember that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men.”

  Volume 6 may prove to be a troublesome book for some readers. In the late months of 1841 and on into 1842, Joseph Smith began to teach a select circle of leaders the doctrine of plural marriage. Even today, some one hundred fifty years later, that issue continues to be controversial and disturbing in the minds of some people. Plural marriage proved to be so highly divisive in the Church during the Prophet’s time that even some in the highest councils found it impossible to accept. One member of the Twelve was excommunicated, and a former member of the First Presidency ended up in a conspiracy to kill Joseph and Hyrum. That was how volatile this issue became. Plural marriage was a major factor in creating the emotions that led to the Martyrdom.

  Writing of this time in history proved to be an interesting challenge for this author. Because of its highly explosive emotional ramifications, plural marriage generated a hurricane of reaction in the nineteenth century. Much of that reaction has been preserved to our time. There are journal entries, letters, affidavits, recollections, reminiscences, and formal historical accounts. Sorting through those sources—trying to decide what was truth, what was rumor and innuendo, what was hearsay and embellishment, and what was downright slander and fabrication—proved to be an almost overwhelming task. One cannot even get the most careful of historians to agree on exactly how many women were sealed to Joseph Smith and which of those he actually lived with as husband and wife. But I can assure the reader that those sources were carefully read again and again as this book was written.

  There are surely some readers who will think I spent far too much time on this subject and will be uncomfortable with what is given and how it is treated. There will surely be others who believe I have deliberately sidestepped far too much and that a fuller treatment was called for. The fundamental issue—for those back then and for us today—comes down to one basic question: Did God reveal this law to Joseph and require him and others to live it, or was it purely the product of Joseph’s own mind? In Praise to the Man I have tried to let Joseph and those who believed in him speak for themselves. I have also tried to accurately depict the reactions of those who heard about the restoration of the practice of plural marriage—both those who accepted it and those who bitterly and totally rejected it. Ultimately each reader must answer that fundamental question for himself or herself. Was this of God, or was it of man?

  Though I am solely responsible for the work in this volume, there are many who have had tremendous influence in bringing it about. Editors, researchers, artists, secretaries, readers, and publishing staff have all been thanked in previous volumes. With this latest installment, their contribution continues to be as significant as ever, if not more so. And my not naming them again here in no way lessens my debt to them all.

  My wife, Lynn, proved to be a sure voice pointing out various snares, pitfalls, and land mines as I tried to negotiate this particularly hazardous terrain. She has a wonderful sense of what works and what does not work and has the courage to express it. That good sense and the honesty to say what she feels are more valuable than even she knows.

  Kim Moe and his wife, Jane, continue to be a steadying influence and to offer unflagging support. We have come through this together now for almost seven years and find our friendship and partnership all the more treasured.

  I have, more than ever, a deep sense of gratitude and admiration for the numerous historians who have so tirelessly put together the sources upon which I rely so heavily. Though they may not agree with what I have done with their research, without it the historical accuracy of this series would not be possible.

  Finally, I should like to pay tribute to my father. Jewell G. Lund, a bright and promising student in high school, came to Salt Lake City from a small town in central Utah and enrolled at the University of Utah. That was in September 1929. In October the stock market crashed and the Great Depression began. Thus his formal higher education ended less than a month after it began. He often referred to himself as an uneducated man and always mourned for that lost opportunity.

  Education and learning, however, are not always the same thing. Though he spent his life as a smelter worker and had no further formal education of any kind, he was a learner for all of his life. He read widely, consistently, and constantly. He loved to know and understand things. He worked with his hands and explored with his mind. Most important, he made it a lifelong quest to search for truth and then, when he found it, to incorporate it into his life.

  His influence on me both as a person and as a writer is incalculable. In all my growing-up years, our family circle was characterized by a constant focus on the importance of truth and how to find it. You didn’t have to agree with Dad, but you’d sure as certain better be prepared to defend your position. He constantly challenged us to see beyond platitudes, cliches, generalities, or fuzzy-headed thinking. “Chapter and verse?” was a demand he often threw at us when we pronounced that this or that was true. By his own personal example, he taught me to dig through the overburden of information so as to reach the ore of truth that lay beneath it. From him and my mother I learned my love of God, my reverence for the scriptures, my admiration for the Prophet Joseph and his teachings, and the importance of truth and true principles.

  He influenced me in another important way that would later prove to be of great worth in writing The Work and the Glory. He kept a garden larger than most modern building lots. Partly that was to supplement our family’s food supply; mostly it was to teach his children to work. He planted rows and rows of raspberries not only for the fruit they would produce but also for the character they would help build. (For those who have not experienced it personally, I can testify that picking raspberries is a character-building experience, though I certainly did not see it that way at the time.) He taught us not only how to work but that work can be ennobling, edifying, and exalting.

  Without that legacy he gave to us, this series would never have come into existence. It has been seven years since I began the first work on this series. It has taken literally thousands of hours sitting in front of a computer, hunched over books, lying awake at night mulling over what this or that character should be doing. Without my father’s gentle—and sometimes not so gentle—demands to weed the garden, pick raspberries, clean out the chicken coop, haul load after load of “gold dust” from the corral, I would have never had the stamina to continue onward in telling the story as it demanded to be told.

  He died without a great accumulation of worldly wealth, but the inheritance he gave to each of us is a treasure of far greater worth. I tried at times before his death to express in words my gratitude for what he has done for me. He would always brush it aside. So I now take this opportunity to more fully and permanently thank him. With each passing year his legacy to me grows in value and worth. Dad, this is small thanks indeed.

  Gerald N. Lund

  Bountiful, Utah

  September 1995
r />   Characters of Note in This Book

  The Steed Family

  •Benjamin, father and grandfather; fifty-six as the book begins.

  •Mary Ann Morgan, wife of Benjamin, and mother and grandmother; almost fifty-five as the story opens.

  •Joshua, the oldest son (thirty-four), and his wife, Caroline Mendenhall (thirty-four).

  William (“Will”), from Caroline’s first marriage; seventeen.

  Olivia (“Livvy”), from Caroline’s first marriage; almost fourteen.

  Savannah; four.

  Charles Benjamin; seventeen months.

  •Jessica Roundy Steed Griffith, Joshua’s first wife, widow of John Griffith; thirty-seven.

  Rachel, from marriage to Joshua; nine and a half.

  Luke and Mark, sons from John Griffith’s first marriage; almost nine and seven, respectively.

  John Benjamin, from marriage to John; three.

  •Nathan, the second son (thirty-two), and his wife, Lydia McBride (not quite thirty-two).

  Joshua Benjamin (“Young Joshua”); ten.

  Emily; just barely nine.

  Elizabeth Mary (“Lizzie”); three.

  Josiah Nathan; six months.

  •Melissa, the older daughter (thirty), and her husband, Carlton (“Carl”) Rogers (thirty-one).

  Carlton Hezekiah; nine.

  David Benjamin; not quite seven.

  Caleb John; almost five.

  Sarah; two and a half.

  •Rebecca, the younger daughter (twenty-three), and her husband, Derek Ingalls (almost twenty-four).

  Christopher Joseph; two.

  •Matthew, the youngest son (just turning twenty-one), and his new bride, Jennifer Jo McIntire (nineteen and a half).