by Marian Wells
Frowning Mark said, “I don’t believe I understand you.”
“You’ve questioned my judgment for years, even during the times I’ve functioned as a prophet. You won’t go along with council to join the Lodge like the rest of the men. Your walking behind light is crippling your chance to gain the power of the priesthood.”
“I am aware you are initiating some of the men into the higher teachings of the priesthood,” Mark responded, “but Joseph, I haven’t asked for that concession. In truth, just like Masonry, I’d question it deeply before I’d consent to being a part of it. It goes against the grain to say yes and then find out I don’t like what I bargained for.”
Joseph said heavily, “That isn’t faith—either in the Lord or in me as prophet. If all of my members were like you, where would the church be?”
“If all the church members had the freedom to question and even make an ecclesiastical error without endangering their salvation,” Mark countered, “perhaps you’d have an exhibit of more love and less fear.”
Joseph thought for a minute and then settled back. The dreamy expression was back on his face. “All right, I’ll tell you. I’ve felt for some time that the Lord was leading me to investigate Masonry. You saw me in Springfield. I was talking with Grand Master Jonas. I’ve discovered more than I’d guessed.”
Again he was silent. When he looked up his face was radiant and for a moment Mark was caught, understanding for a clear moment the compelling charm of the man.
Joseph leaned forward and his voice was soft as he said, “Mark, my friend, for one thing I’ve discovered that just as God’s Word has been distorted and filled with errors by the hand of those transcribers who had not the gift and calling from God, so Masonry has suffered.
“You know that I have preached of Adam receiving the priesthood back in the beginning days of creation. Now I will tell you something which is not common knowledge—Masonry is degenerate from the priesthood.”
“Then how can you allow the Lodge in Nauvoo?”
“Oh, the first principles are trustworthy. Masonry is a steppingstone for something more.”
“What are you referring to?”
Joseph glanced at Mark. “First, the principles. By the time I finish, you’ll be wanting to join. We are beings lost to perfection. It is the business of living to make us into perfection, completeness. This is done through seeking the elder brother, first off. Now in Masonry, this isn’t church—in fact, the belief is that there are many paths upward. Nowadays we have the understanding that there’s only one true church, containing the keys to the kingdom. But it is still our cognizance to build upon these principles.”
“What special knowledge do you have?” Mark asked slowly.
“That intelligence will save; that knowledge will lead to the eternities. When a man takes and builds upon what the Lord has given him, he begins to grow into communion with God—verily, even into a god himself.
“Granted, Mark, I see in your face the disbelief, but even Masonry supports the idea that it is by striving and working at the task of controlling our humanity and all the passions which must be perfected that we arrive at this state.”
“I hear you say Masonry has taught you to become a god?”
“That and more. There’s a certain center to it that allows a man to learn all there is to know, to understand and think like god. There is a light and knowledge hidden in this universe which we are obligated to obtain. I warn you, Mark, there’s a very real danger for you to try to obtain these mysteries of knowledge apart from the true church.
“I also warn you that moral suicide awaits the man who tastes of the things the Lord offers through the church, particularly the priesthood, and then turns aside. You’ve gotten enough that you are in danger of this. I admonish you, enter the secret center where truth abides forever.”
Mark got to his feet. “Joseph, I can’t say I’m convinced. I’ve never had a desire to be a god. I don’t even consider myself a good follower of the Lord Jesus Christ.” He turned to go, but Joseph’s words stopped him.
“Mark, you’re near to being an apostate. I suggest you pull the reins up tight within these next few weeks. The Lord himself has led me to understand that for an apostate spouse there is nothing.
“If you leave Nauvoo, Jenny will stay behind. I know she’s trying with all her heart to be a good Saint. If you leave—” he paused, and his eyes were curiously light, “your marriage contract will be null and void.”
Chapter 12
It was raining—not the usual summer rain, but instead a cold drizzle that chilled the bones. Mark had left for Nauvoo looking as dismal as Jenny felt. She pushed more wood into the kitchen stove and went to the window.
“Here it’s June, and I should be weeding the garden and gathering peas,” she advised herself, rubbing her chilled arms. “Instead, I shiver and look for something to do.”
She was caught with remembering, muttering, “If Clara were here, she could help me drive the clouds away. Or Adela.” The thoughts threw open the door she had firmly closed that dismal day of the broken mirror.
Restlessly Jenny paced the floor, troubled but unable to stop the probing questions surfacing in her mind. After thinking she had moved beyond the book and charms, why did she still feel the pull?
“I’ve lived my religion,” she whispered into the silent room. “Why is there no contentment? The others seem to be happy with their lot in life. I still feel like the young’un with my nose against the window of the candy store.”
Jenny slowly pulled the broom across the floor, looking for a stray particle of dust. Reasons for feeling this way began to surface. “Power,” she muttered. “I need to know what’s out there. I want to do something that will make me feel a part of the whole universe. I liked the mystery, the charms. I enjoyed Adela’s company. Now there’s nothing.”
She had taken her broom into the parlor. Pausing to lean on it, she looked at the table centered between the two chairs. Carefully arranged on opposite sides of the china lamp were the Bibles, hers and Mark’s. Jenny’s rested on top of another black book—the Book of Mormon.
Jenny went after the dustcloth. As she moved it over the table and around the pink roses on the lamp, she noticed the differences in the books. Mark’s Bible was scuffed, and the pages curled invitingly outward. It’s almost as if the words were trying to escape, Jenny thought with amusement as she looked at the smooth leather of her own Bible, still shiny with newness.
Joseph Smith told me to study the Scriptures, she thought. She had started, but somewhere along the way too many days had passed between the readings.
“I know why,” she said thoughtfully. “I was just plain tired of reading about Nephi, and the books in the Old Testament were either listing a bunch of men I didn’t know or saying things I didn’t like. The wrath of God. The people getting swallowed up for doing a little stealing. If the Lord were around hereabouts, there’d be a mighty big hole in the ground. Leastwise, Joseph preaches a lot about thieving.”
Her dustcloth slowed. What would happen if she were to read the New Testament first? She looked at Mark’s Bible and couldn’t keep from wondering why it looked as it did.
She put away the broom and dustcloth, washed her hands and settled into the rocking chair.
Jenny looked up when she heard the horse. She recognized Tom’s shout and saw him riding to the barn. By the time he reached the back door, Jenny had pulled the teakettle over the fire.
Tom hung his coat on the hook behind the door and carefully tilted his hat against the stove to dry.
“What brings you out today?” Jenny asked, reaching for the skillet.
“Carried a message to Mrs. Pratt for the Prophet and thought I’d come this way before headin’ back to town.”
“Is her husband away?”
“Yes, but he’s due back shortly. I think that was the information in the letter.” He shook his shaggy head. “Don’t like being mistrusted.”
“How’
s that?”
“Joseph. He sealed the letter, like he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t read it.”
“That’s strange.” Jenny began placing dishes upon the table.
Tom picked up the open Bible she had placed there and looked at the page. “How’s come you put all these lines under the words?”
“I didn’t. That’s Mark’s Bible. I’ve been reading it.”
“Don’t you have one of your own?”
“Yes. I’d only intended seeing why the pages bulge. He has pieces of paper inside and all these marks around verses. I had to discover why.”
“Could ask.”
“No.” She took a deep breath and faced Tom. “Seems when we get off on religion, Mark and I disagree something terrible. I think he knows now how I feel about his picking at me. Every once in a while I see that look in his eyes, telling me he’s all ready to give it all out and then suddenly he just closes his mouth and goes off.”
“Guess if that’s what you want—”
“I do and I don’t. Tom, I don’t want him shoving his ideas at me. Besides, they’re scary.”
“Why do you feel that? I’ve listened to him. Sure it’s different, what he has to say; but somehow the strange things are almost believable when Mark says them. I’d expect him to back them up.” Tom fell silent as he picked up his fork and stabbed at the potatoes and bacon. “I’ve been feelin’ a mite disappointed in my religion lately.”
Jenny studied him for a moment before saying, “Kinda like it isn’t satisfying?”
Tom nodded. “I expect I’d not feel that way if it weren’t for listenin’ to Mark talk about his, and seein’ he feels so different.” He nodded toward the Book. “What did you read today?”
“Oh, lots. I got bored with Chronicles, so I started in with the New Testament. Just opened it to John. It was like a cow swallowing a pile of hay in one gulp. Now I find I’m back to chewing my cud. Some things stick, and I need to think about them for a time.”
“Like what?” He reached for the bread.
“I read quite a bit in the first chapter before I discovered the He the fellow was talking about was Jesus. I get the feeling this all doesn’t line up with Joseph’s teachings. Guess I need to ask him. Tom,” she continued slowly, “there’s some things I really like about this man—Jesus. He seems so loving, but then He can be hard.”
She fell silent, watching Tom eat. Then unable to hold back the words, she rushed on. “Mark had things written down on pieces of paper. Some I couldn’t understand. On one piece he’d written references. I looked them up, and the thoughts all strung together were strange. According to them, God calls us into fellowship with His Son, and with love. God adopted us as sons through Jesus.
“Today I read in the first part of John that we have power to become the sons of God if we believe in Jesus. I wonder what that means, because I believe He’s God’s Son and I don’t feel any power. Right now I’d settle for enough power to get rid of the rain.”
Tom’s brow furrowed in a frown. “Somehow I get the feelin’ that isn’t the kind of power the Book is talkin’ about. Better go ask Joseph.”
Jenny had forgotten the Legion was parading on the day she rode into Nauvoo to see Joseph. After she left the horse and buggy at the livery stable, she joined the throng of Saints lining the streets.
It was a clear, bright day, the beginning of summer. Despite the upheaval of construction the city was beginning to wear the homey look of grass, flowers, and garden patches. Neat picket fences and young fruit trees gave Nauvoo a look of permanence which had never existed in Far West.
As Jenny nodded to the Saints she recognized, smiled at the strangers, and studied it all, she was aware of more in the Saints’ favor. The beginning of prosperity was evident in round cheeks blooming with health. Jenny also noticed bright parasols and bonnets with lace and plumes. More men wore black frock coats and tall dark hats.
The band was coming into view. The children surrounding Jenny were jumping up and down with excitement. Their dancing steps mimicked the prancing steps of the band and the smart steps of the Nauvoo Legion. She watched one youngster toot his imaginary trumpet while another swished a sword made of two crossed boards.
Jenny shouted across the blaring trumpets, “Your sons will make good soldiers.”
“Aye!” their proud mother exclaimed, “both are members of the youth military corps. Joseph will have a fine army. ’Tis between four and six hundred young’uns right now.”
The woman beside the mother said, “Did you hear how they nearly captured Nauvoo?” Mystified, Jenny shook her head. “Well, Joseph’s oldest boy dreamed it up.”
The mother took up the story. “The Prophet got wind of their intentions and routed the Legion to play at their own game.”
“But unbeknown to the Prophet,” her friend chimed in, “the boys were armed with every pot and pan in Nauvoo. When they came out of the woods, the Legion rushed them. The little fellas set up such a clatter with their ma’s pots and big spoons that all the horses spooked except for old Charlie, and he daren’t with the Prophet on his back.”
She paused and cried, “And look, there comes the Prophet now!”
Jenny turned as the prancing black stallion moved into view. She was hearing the excitement sweeping the crowd, watching the people waving and shouting as he drew abreast. Jenny blinked at the glory of his uniform of blue and buff, decorated with gold braid and punctuated with the flashing sword and brace of pistols.
The shouting dwindled to a murmur as the Legion marched down the street. Beside Jenny the dark stranger moved and muttered, “I’ve never in my life seen anything like this.”
“You know nothing of armies?”
He looked at her. “Madam, I am an officer in the United States Artillery. I simply mean there’s no troops on the state level that could meet their match.” Jenny couldn’t control her pride, and his shrewd eyes saw it.
“Why this strict discipline, the ardor? Do they intend to conquer the world? I’ve not seen such enthusiasm even in our ranks.” He turned to stare down the street, murmuring, “General Smith, the Prophet, huh? At this rate, in a few years they’ll be thirty or fifty thousand—and that’s a formidable foe, capable of instigating a religious crusade. I hope they don’t intend to subvert the Constitution of the United States while we sit back and look on.” He took one last glance at Jenny. “The fortifications Bennett’s planning for this little monarchy are impressive. But I understand the Prophet is trying to oust him. Too bad for Joseph. Bennett seems to be an intelligent man with a great deal of courage. He’ll be hard to replace. So Joseph’s talking about an earthly kingdom of God, huh?” Without waiting for an answer, the man turned and strode down the street.
Chapter 13
“Who is this Jesus?” Jenny whispered into her pan of soapy dishwater. Her hands were moving slowly through the dishes, washing and lifting the china cups adorned with pink roses.
Her hands rested in the water as she questioned herself, “Matter-of-fact, Jenny, why are you so caught up with all of this wondering?” Her nagging curiosity had, during the past weeks, led her to complete neglect of the Book of Mormon.
What would Joseph say to that? Or Mark? His notes had aroused her curiosity. What would he think of his wife running to his Bible every morning as soon as she was alone, searching out the newly scribbled references and the intriguing words he had inserted?
“Mystery, mystery of Christ,” Jenny murmured, acknowledging the tingle of excitement and wonder the words caused. Quickly she reached for the skillet, eager to finish her work and take up Mark’s Bible again.
But she had other thoughts as well, ones she had discovered on her own. “Who is this Jesus? Joseph says He’s a son of God just like we are; that Lucifer is His brother. The only unique thing about Him is that when He and Lucifer volunteered to go save the world because of original sin, He was chosen instead. Because of that, He had a special body, which God was responsible for when He came down
to sleep with Mary.”
Jenny gave a troubled sigh. She poured hot water over the cups and reached for the towel. “The only thing is, when I heard that, it didn’t give me a turn at all. But now every time I pick up the Bible and read about Jesus living on this earth, healing people and telling them stories, even giving out strict sermons, I just get more curious.”
Jenny held a teacup up to the sunshine and admired the way light rays put rainbows of pastel color through the milky china. “Hold it up to the light, you see more,” she mused, rubbing her thumb across the cup.
She turned away to stack the clean dishes in the cupboard, but her hands were slow. In her reading, the word believe was causing the problem. Seems I keep falling over it, she thought.
As she picked up the broom and headed for the parlor, she addressed the empty room. “I find myself wishing more for Tom. I have a better time trying out my questions on him ’cause he knows enough about me that I can’t get scared out of questioning. It’s been a long time since he reminded me it’s a sin to ask questions, or to doubt. Could be he’s having some questions too.”
By the time Jenny finished sweeping and dusting, she had decided to seek Joseph’s advice. The decision left her satisfied, and she carried the Bibles to the kitchen table.
Yesterday she had found the paper marked “mystery of Christ,” but after being caught up with all the believe verses in the book of St. John, she had put it back in Mark’s Bible, carefully, lest he guess she was looking through his notes.
As Jenny thumbed through her Bible, she mused over her need for secrecy. “Mark shoves so much at me I can’t accept. I’d rather find out for myself. I’m fearing he’s been led astray. Like atonement.”
Moving carefully through the Book, discovering she could now more easily find the references, Jenny followed Mark’s notes leading her to Ephesians. She read, and then leaned back in her chair, slowly putting her thoughts into words. “This Paul is talking about having a knowledge of the mystery of Christ. Seems from his words, the mystery is that the Gentiles can have the same promises the children of Israel have—through Christ.”