Pillar of Light

by Gerald N. Lund

  Brigham’s face had filled out some over the years, and there was the first hint of gray in his reddish brown hair, but the blue-gray eyes were not dimmed in any way. They gazed out now on the sprawling camp before them, alert, thoughtful, perceptive. When Nathan finished and sat back, the Apostle finally turned and looked directly at him. “So you’re asking me if I think you ought to fetch Caroline and the children without Joshua knowing beforehand?”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Nathan answered, a little lamely. “I’m really torn on this one. I feel so strongly that Caroline and the children need to be out here with us—with him.”

  “I couldn’t agree more on that point.”

  “We’ve tried everything to convince Joshua of that, but . . .” He shrugged. “Well, you know Joshua.”

  “Yes, I do know Joshua. And so do you. And I suspect that’s one of the reasons why you’re not sure this is a wise thing to do.”

  Looking away, frustrated and confused, Nathan nodded.

  “He might eventually accept it and thank you for it. Or it could do some pretty serious damage.”

  Nathan nodded glumly. That was what was giving him fits in this whole thing.

  Brigham’s head came up. “But there’s a great principle here, isn’t there?”

  “Are you talking about agency?”

  “Well, yes, that too. A man’s family is his own stewardship—” A wry smile flashed suddenly. “And we need to be careful about minding another person’s stewardship. But it really wasn’t agency I was thinking about. I was thinking more along the lines of faith.”

  Nathan caught himself. “Faith?”

  “Yes, faith. Did you happen to be in the meeting last December where I read to the people a letter from Elder Orson Pratt? It was his farewell letter to the Saints in the East, including those that would be taking sail on the Brooklyn.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Well, Brother Orson was exhorting them to come west and join with us—or take the ship around the horn of South America. And he said something like this: ‘Do not be fainthearted or slothful, but be diligent and courageous. Be prayerful and faithful and you can accomplish almost anything that you undertake. What great and good work can we not do if we have faith and ambition?’ ”

  Brigham’s eyes were pensive now as he tried to recall the exact words. “ ‘We can do almost anything, for our Father in heaven will strengthen us if we are strong. He will work according to our faith. If we say we cannot go west, God will not help us. But if we say, in the name of the Lord, that we will go, and set ourselves to do it, then we will go and he will help us.’ ”

  Nathan was nodding vigorously. “Exactly. If Joshua had even a touch of faith, there wouldn’t be any problem. And that is really troubling to me. He’s seen so much. He should be dead, but he was blessed by the priesthood and survived a terrible wound. He was there when Joseph blessed Pa and saved him from dying. On that same day, he went across the river and watched Joseph raise Elijah Fordham from his deathbed.”

  “I know,” Brigham said quietly. “I was there that day too, remember?”

  “Yes, that’s right. So why can’t Joshua believe? He’s a good man, President. You know that, but he’s just so darn stubborn.”

  There was an enigmatic smile now on the senior Apostle’s face. “Actually, Nathan, when I referred to faith, I wasn’t thinking about Joshua’s faith—or lack of it.”

  Nathan blinked in surprise. “Oh?” And then he saw Brigham’s expression. Nathan’s eyes suddenly widened. “You’re talking about my faith?”

  “Or lack of it,” Brigham answered gently.

  “But . . .” He sat back, completely astonished.

  “Nathan, you said you came to me for counsel.”

  “Yes, I did. I—”

  “Do you remember what Joseph always used to say? When he was asked how he governed his people, he said, ‘I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves.’ ”

  “Yes, I remember that.”

  The wry smile that made Brigham seem suddenly more like a young boy broke out again. “Actually, I’ve thought that what Joseph might have said was, ‘We teach them correct principles, and we teach them correct principles, and we teach them correct principles, and then they govern themselves.’ ”

  Nathan laughed aloud at that. How true that was!

  “Be that as it may. Rather than counseling you, Nathan, let me teach you a principle or two, and then you can decide for yourself what is best.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said meekly, still too dumbfounded by Brigham’s accusation to do anything but listen.

  “I wish I had thought to bring my scriptures,” Brigham went on, “but I’ll give you one reference as best I can. It comes from the Doctrine and Covenants. It’s one that has taken on special meaning for me in these last few weeks.”

  “All right.”

  “This was a revelation given back in eighteen thirty-four, I believe. You remember back then, Nathan? We were still building the temple in Kirtland. We had hundreds of people coming to Kirtland with nothing but what they carried. They expected the Church to help them. We had no money. No resources. And yet there we were, building this massive building to our God.”

  “Yes, I remember it well.”

  “Well, near the end of this revelation the Lord said a remarkable thing. Joseph and the Church were deeply in debt at that time, so the Lord started out by saying, ‘It is my will that you should pay your debts.’ When you think about it, that alone is a little strange. This is God, remember, and it was his house that we were building. He could have simply said, ‘Don’t worry about paying back those worldly men who have given you money. All things are mine anyway, so forget about paying it back.’ But he did not. He said that it was his will that Joseph pay off his debts. Then what follows is very profound. I’ve thought about it over and over.”

  Nathan, curious now, was trying to remember. He knew the revelation to which Brigham was referring, but he couldn’t recall what came next.

  “The Lord says, ‘It is my will that you humble yourselves, and obtain this blessing’—and by that I assume he means the blessing of getting out of debt—‘and obtain this blessing by . . .’ ” Brigham stopped and looked directly at Nathan for a moment. “Think about that for a minute. Joseph and the Church are deeply in debt and the Lord says that he can obtain the blessing of being freed from that debt by something. What would you expect to come next?”

  Nathan’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, if you came to me and told me you were in debt, how would you expect that I would counsel you?”

  “Well, the usual ways, I suppose. Work harder. Be more frugal.”

  “That’s exactly right. There are only two ways out of debt, or so you would think. One is to increase your income. The other is to reduce your outgo.”

  “Yes, that’s about it.”

  “But that’s the point, Nathan. Those are not the only solutions. Listen. This is what the Lord says. He doesn’t tell Joseph to work harder or to be more careful with money. He says, ‘It is my will that you humble yourselves, and obtain this blessing by’”—Brigham held up his hand and began to tick the items off on his fingers—“‘by your humility and diligence and the prayer of faith.’ Note that. Three things. Humility. Diligence. Prayer of faith.”

  “I understand.”

  “No, you don’t understand, Nathan. And neither did I. The great lesson is in what comes next. ‘And inasmuch as you are diligent and humble, and exercise the prayer of faith, I will soften the hearts of those to whom you are in debt, until I shall send means unto you for your deliverance.’ ”

  He stopped, watching Nathan closely to see how the words were registering.

  Nathan did not notice his gaze. The words hit him in a way they had never done when he had read those words before. “So there is another way.”

  “Yes!” Brigham was exuberant now. “And we have to be very careful that we don’t assume that our ways
are the only ways to solve a problem. What the Lord is suggesting is a whole different dimension, Nathan. In many ways you’re like me, Nathan. Independent. Ambitious. Determined not to be a burden on others. So when you face a problem, what do you do?”

  “I look for a solution.”

  “Right. You try everything you know how to do to work it through. And that is good. I believe the Lord expects that of us. I think that’s what he means by diligence.”

  “But—”

  “But that’s not all. He listed three things, remember. Diligence. Humility. The prayer of faith. So in addition to our diligence, if we turn to the Lord in humility and ask for his help in faith, then we have brought him into the process. We are getting his help in solving the challenge.” He waved a hand in frustration. “I wish I had the actual scripture so I could read it to you, but this is how he concludes the passage. ‘And if ye are humble and faithful and call upon my name, I will give you the victory.’ ”

  Nathan was nodding ever so slowly, his mind racing, beginning to glimpse why his question about Joshua had brought this scripture to Brigham Young’s mind. Finally, he turned. “And you think that’s my problem?”

  “Yes.” It was said with great love and tenderness. “You have been diligent, Nathan. But you’ve forgotten to bring the Lord into this.” He held up his hand quickly. “Oh, I know you’ve been praying, but you’ve only been praying to know if your solution is acceptable to the Lord. Don’t seek to counsel God, Nathan. He knows what to do. He knows how to work his work.”

  “But—” And then he bit it off. There were no buts. That was exactly what he had been doing. He had worked out a solution and now wanted the Lord to ratify it. Or to have Brigham ratify it for the Lord. He felt deep shame wash over him. “I think I understand.”

  Brigham got to his feet. For a moment, he gazed down on the camp, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he turned and looked down at Nathan. “It’s a lesson I’m learning anew every day, Nathan. It’s so easy to get caught up in the work—His work, mind you!—and yet forget that it is He who best knows how to work that work.” He was peering deep into Nathan’s eyes now. “And that’s true of Joshua too, Nathan. God is pleased that you are so deeply concerned about helping him. But it is the Lord who knows best how to help him. So what you need to do is have more faith in the Lord.”

  His face softened as he saw the pain on the younger man’s face. “You need to know, Nathan, lest you be too hard on yourself, there are not many men I know who are faithful enough to be told that what they lack is faith.” He laughed without humor. “Sounds like a contradiction, doesn’t it? But you think about it. If you weren’t a man filled with faith, I would never have dared tell you that what you need is more faith.” He raised an arm in farewell. “Good luck.”

  They were just finishing breakfast when Nathan came back to where his family was camped. Lydia saw him first and straightened slowly, her eyes following him as he approached. He smiled at her but said nothing.

  Then Joshua saw that something had caught Lydia’s attention and turned. “Well, well, little brother, we about gave you up for lost.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think it would take me this long.”

  “Couldn’t you find Brother Brigham?” Mary Ann asked.

  “Oh no, I found him. I just . . .” He brushed it aside. “It just took longer than I thought.”

  “There’s still some breakfast left,” Lydia said, jumping in to help him fend off further questions. “You didn’t eat at Brigham’s camp, did you?”

  “No.” He moved over and squatted down by the fire, holding out his hands toward the flames. It was going to be another clear, sunny day, but right now, with the sun not yet up, the air temperature was still near freezing.

  Lydia moved to a small kettle nestled in the coals and lifted the lid off with a pair of tongs. As she finished spooning some porridge into a bowl, Rebecca brought a crock of milk, uncorked it, and came over to stand beside Lydia, taking care that her skirts did not swirl too close to the coals. She added it to the bowl, then Lydia spooned in some sugar and handed it to Nathan.

  “So,” Joshua said after a minute of watching his brother eat, “where are you going to start first?”

  The spoon hung in midair for a moment, then Nathan took the bite, barely tasting it. “Well, actually,” he finally said, “that’s one of the reasons I’m so late. I stopped for a time to think through this whole thing.”

  Derek moved over to squat down beside Nathan. “What whole thing?”

  “Trading the horses and mules. Sending Joshua off for flour.”

  “Oh?” Joshua said, surprised but a little wary too. He had thought Nathan’s early-morning disappearance a little strange. Lydia’s explanation that he had gone to tell Brigham of their plans had worked for a time. After all, besides being the chief Apostle and leader of the Church, he was the head of the wagon train. But it didn’t take an hour to tell a man that your wagon axle was busted and you were going to have to lay back for a few days.

  Now Solomon and Matthew moved closer. All work on cleaning up breakfast stopped as the women turned to listen too.

  “First of all,” said Nathan, “I’m not sure that we have to make fixing the axle such a high urgency. Until we get back with the oxen, we’re not going anywhere, and that could be several days.”

  “If you come back with oxen,” Joshua started. Then his head came up. “Wait a minute. You said, until we get back with the oxen.”

  “Yes, I did.” He took one last bite of the mush and set the bowl aside. “I think you and Derek and me all ought to go. Matthew and Solomon can stay and work on making us an axle.”

  That surprised them all. “But what about trying to buy some more flour?” Derek asked.

  “We can do that on the way too.”

  “What brought on this sudden change of plans?” Joshua asked, half-puzzled, half-suspicious.

  Nathan took a quick breath, then decided there was no use postponing it. Besides that, there was the issue of faith. “I want to go back to Nauvoo and get Caroline and the children,” he said slowly.

  Mary Ann gasped. Rebecca’s hand flew to her mouth. Jessica, in the act of turning to see what her youngest child was up to, froze and turned back slowly. Lydia’s eyes widened, but she was not staring at Nathan, she was staring at Joshua.

  The silence stretched on for several seconds. Every eye was on Joshua now. Even the children, playing around the wagons, sensed something significant was happening and stopped to watch.

  “Just like that,” Joshua said flatly, not making it a question.

  “No,” Nathan responded, “not just like that. I have thought about it a lot. And not just this morning. A good part of last night.” He glanced at Mary Ann. “Mother and I have talked about it.” Which was mostly true. His mother had no idea he was going to come back and drop this rock in the middle of the pond, but they had talked about the general subject.

  Joshua’s head turned very slowly.

  “That’s true,” Mary Ann said firmly. “Caroline needs to be here with you, Joshua. Your children need to be here with you. I told Nathan I wanted him to do everything in his power to make that happen.”

  “I see.” His voice was emotionless, and therefore all the more filled with tension. “And do I get any say in the matter?”

  “I’m asking you right now,” Nathan answered. “You get all the say in the matter.”

  “And if I say no?”

  Nathan didn’t flinch from that one. His eyes caught Joshua’s and held them. “Then I want you to go back to Nauvoo and stay with your family. We were wrong to have you leave them. It’s not going to be safe in Nauvoo and—”

  “They’re safe!” Joshua cut in sharply. “Don’t be pulling the boogeyman stuff on me, Nathan. I’m not one of your children. Caroline is fine.”

  “She is now. And maybe she will be until you get back. But what if you’re gone a year, Joshua? Are you willing to bet that things will stay calm for a full year?
” He didn’t wait for him to answer. “If anyone knows what hatred can do, it’s you Joshua. It nearly killed Caroline once. It took Olivia. You lost a barn and a stable full of horses. You were financially ruined. You think that’s all over now?”

  “Now that the Mormons are leaving, yes.”

  Nathan rubbed his hands on his trouser legs, not sure how blunt he dared to be. “Your wife is a Mormon, Joshua,” he finally said in a low voice. “So is Savannah.”

  Now the quiet was utter and complete. Joshua’s eyes were dark and moody, and Nathan could see the first real anger starting to stir in them. He sat back, ready for what was coming.

  “So Brother Brigham put you up to this?” Joshua finally sneered. “Is that what you were doing? Out there talking about how to save poor Caroline from her gentile husband?”

  “No, actually, I went to tell Brigham that I was going to get your family without your knowing it. I was just going to get them and bring them here, and then let you deal with it.”

  “What!”

  Nathan looked up at Lydia. “Is that true?”

  She answered to Joshua. “That’s what he was talking about doing last night.”

  “Brigham said he thought it was a mistake. And I knew he was right. So, I’m here asking. Please, Joshua. You know it’s right. You said once we get out west, you’d get them and take them there too. So why wait? Let’s get them now.”

  “And if I say no?” Joshua asked again, his voice dangerously low.

  Nathan dropped his eyes. “I can’t tell you what to do about your family, Joshua, but the family has appointed me captain of our little company. And I’m telling you, it’s my decision that you need to be with your family. If they’re not with us, then I’m asking you to go back and stay with them.”

  Joshua looked from one face to another. One by one they each nodded. When he looked at his mother, she was near tears. “Oh, Joshua, I know you are doing this for me, and I love you for it. But Nathan is right. It was a mistake to leave Caroline and the children alone.”