The Work and the Glory (297 page)

He looked around. “I’d like to get a Christmas present for Emma. I know it’s still almost two months away, but I doubt we’ll be back before then. I would like to buy something now and have you deliver it to her if we haven’t returned.”

•  “We’d be pleased to do that for you.”

Now he looked a little sheepish. “And I could use some advice. I was hoping that you’d be here. I’m not very good at these things.”

They walked around the store together, Joseph peering at this thing or that, Caroline and Jenny suggesting and pointing out various items. Finally he settled on a brooch, a rose carved from a piece of whale bone. It would set off her fair skin and dark hair wonderfully. As Caroline began to wrap it up, she looked up at him. “I enjoyed your sermon on Sunday.”

“Thank you. I am pleased that you have started to come to worship services with your girls.” A bit of a teasing smile played around his mouth. “Any suggestions for the preacher on how to improve?”

“No, but . . . well, I did have a question about what you said.”

Joseph swung around and pointed to the corner of the room. “Let’s sit down. I’ve got a few minutes. I thought finding something for Emma would take longer than this.”

They moved toward where the stove stood in an open area. Around it were two chairs, a small table for playing checkers, and a couple of stools. A really successful store always had a place for folks to visit or sit for a spell, especially in poor weather.

He waited until they were settled, then leaned forward, his face serious again, his eyes earnest. “All right, what bothered you?”

Caroline glanced at Jenny, hoping for help, but Jenny just shook her head. “I’m here to listen.”

So Caroline took a quick breath, then plunged. She had been thinking about this ever since Sunday. “You talked about forgiveness,” she began tentatively.

“Yes.”

“You said that even though you are trying to seek redress from Congress for the wrongs done in Missouri, the Saints shouldn’t be harboring any feelings of hatred or bitterness against those people in Missouri. You said that it was time to forgive and move on, leaving judgment in the hand of the Lord.”

“The Lord has been very clear in this matter.”

She bit her lower lip. “I know. I know the New Testament says that we must forgive too. But you said more than that. You said something about it being a sin if we don’t forgive others.”

He smiled gently. “I was just quoting the Lord, Caroline.”

“I know. Jenny showed me where it was in the Doctrine and Covenants. And that’s what’s bothering me. It says that if I don’t forgive, I have the greater sin.”

“Yes, that’s how the Lord says it.”

Now her mouth was set and her eyes touched with bitterness. “All right, here’s my question. Last fall, three men—all Missourians—came to the house of Father and Mother Steed in Far West. They found Mother Steed, Rebecca, Lydia, and Jessica in a root cellar and started to do unspeakable things to them. Joshua came just then and stopped them. One man was killed. Later the other two men shot Joshua in the back because he stopped them. The only reason they didn’t kill him is because they were poor shots.”

•  “Yes, Benjamin told me all about this.”

Her head bobbed curtly, acknowledging his comment. “Those same two men then came to Independence and burned down our house. We were lucky to get out alive. And those same two men—” She looked away, coming close to the edge of control now. “And those same two men are the reason why my son is on some ship on its way to China now. And why I won’t see him for another year.”

She took a breath. “And you’re telling me that my sin is greater than theirs if I don’t forgive them? I’m sorry, but I have trouble understanding that.”

“That’s not surprising. This is one of the most difficult principles of the gospel to really live properly.”

“Why?” she burst out angrily. “I remember that day in Far West—that day when Nathan brought Joshua home to see his family again for the first time in eleven years. I’ll always remember how you came and taught us about forgiveness and what it did for our family. But Joshua had changed. Joshua was trying to be a better person. I can see why we have to forgive someone like that. But these men didn’t change. Why must I forgive
them
? Why doesn’t the Lord talk about
their
responsibility to me? I hate those men! I hate what they did! I rejoice that they are dead because I know they cannot harm us any further.”

She straightened slowly, a little shamed by the intensity of her emotions. “I’m sorry. As you can see, I have some very strong feelings about this.”

“Understandably.” Joseph leaned back, his eyes never leaving her face. Jenny did not move, but just watched the two of them. Finally, he leaned forward again. “Let me teach you just one principle that might help answer your question.”

“I’m listening.”

“Let me ask you one question, and I’d like you to think about it carefully. Why do you suppose God requires that we forgive if we are the innocent party? Like you say, it doesn’t seem fair.”

The question caught her off guard. “Well—”

“Think about it for a minute.”

She did, and found that it put a whole new twist on things. She had always wrestled with the principle from her own point of view. But trying to see it from God’s point of view was different. “I guess,” she finally ventured, “because he forgives us.”

“Yes, and why would you want to do it just because he does it?”

Her mind was working hard now. “I suppose because I want to be more like him.”

He nodded, pleasure showing in his eyes. “Yes, exactly.” He sat back, as though she had her answer.

“But I don’t understand. What are you suggesting?”

“Don’t you see, Caroline? What those two men did was a terrible sin. No one is arguing that point. They have probably lost any chance for salvation. But the principle of forgiveness isn’t for them. It’s for you!”

“For me? What do you mean?”

“God gives us the gospel so that we can be happy. The Book of Mormon says that man is that he might have joy. That’s what we’re after, joy.”

•  “Yes, I agree with that.”

“So these rules, these principles God gives us—such as, ‘you are required to forgive all men or there remaineth in you the greater sin’—these aren’t just something God thinks up to keep us busy. They are the principles which make us happy. And why do they make us happy?”

It was a rhetorical question and he didn’t wait for her to answer. “Because they make us more like him. They help us put on the divine nature, as the Apostle Peter called it. Forgiveness is one of the attributes of God. If you can’t forgive, then you are not like the Savior and our Heavenly Father. And if you’re not like our God and like his Son, then you cannot find a fulness of joy. That’s what it’s all about.”

Caroline was following his words very closely, marveling. They were so clear, so pure, so simple. “I see,” she said slowly.

Now he was very serious. “I want you to think about the Savior for a moment. This is the Master, the one who suffered for the sins of all mankind. He took upon himself sins of every hue, thousands of them—millions, even! He trembled in agony and bled at every pore so that he could pay the price for those sins—yours, mine, Joshua’s, everyone’s. Now, can you picture yourself standing before this perfect, holy Man at the Judgment and saying, ‘I’m sorry but I cannot forgive those two men who shot my husband’?”

She couldn’t meet that penetrating gaze. It seemed to strip her defenses completely away. Her eyes dropped to look at her hands. “No,” she whispered.

“Nor can I.”

For several minutes after he left, Caroline stood at the window, watching the tall figure slowly disappear into the thick curtain of rain. Jenny stood beside her. “He makes it so clear,” Caroline finally said. “It is so logical. Why haven’t I ever thought of it in that way before?”

Jenny looked at her, debating about whether to speak her mind. But she decided it needed to be said. “Caroline, what you’ve got to remember is this—Joseph is a remarkable man. Even his enemies admit that. But he’s more than that. He’s a prophet of God. And God has endowed him with his power and his Spirit. That’s what you’re feeling right now. You have just been taught by a prophet.”

Chapter Notes

  Details of Brigham Young and Heber Kimball’s poignant departure from their families, including their final “Hurrahs,” are recorded in Heber’s journal (see
LHCK,
pp. 265–66; see also
American Moses,
pp. 74–75, and
MWM,
pp. 70–71).

  Though the specifics are furnished by the author, the scene in which Joseph is playing with his children is typical of him, particularly during this time in Nauvoo. He loved young people in general and was always a caring and loving father to his own children. In numerous entries in his journal history his feelings for his family are evident (see, for example,
HC
2:45, 297–98, 307, 405; 5:182, 265, 369, 500, 515).

  The substance of the interchange between Joseph and Caroline on forgiveness is not drawn from any particular speech or sermon that he gave. But it is known from his history that Joseph spoke on forgiveness on more than one occasion during this period (see, for example,
HC
3:383; 4:110, 162, 425). The Saints were still healing from the wounds of Missouri and from betrayals by some of their own leaders, and this may have been the reason he so often took up the subject.

  Joseph was one to practice what he preached. Orson Hyde, a member of the Twelve, left the Church with Thomas B. Marsh in October of 1838. They both made outrageous accusations about Joseph and swore to them. When he came back and asked for mercy, Orson not only was forgiven but was eventually restored to the apostleship as well (see
HC
3:379; 4:2, 12). W. W. Phelps, another prominent leader, also fell away and during the Richmond hearing testified against the Prophet and the other Church leaders. But when he wrote in 1840 and asked Joseph for forgiveness, Joseph’s response was, in part: “You may in some measure realize what my feelings, as well as Elder Rigdon’s and Brother Hyrum’s were, when we read your letter—truly our hearts were melted into tenderness and compassion. . . . I can assure you I feel a disposition to act on your case in a manner that will meet the approbation of Jehovah, (whose servant I am). . . . I shall be happy once again to give you the right hand of fellowship, and rejoice over the returning prodigal.” (See
HC
4:141–42, 162–64.)

  Joseph left for Washington, D.C., on 29 October 1839 to petition the federal government for redress for the wrongs committed against the Saints while in Missouri. After receiving no satisfaction, he left the capital in February of 1840 and returned to Nauvoo in March. It was during the Prophet’s visit to Washington, D.C., that President Martin Van Buren made the famous statement, “Your cause is just, but I can do nothing for you.” (See
HC
4:80; 5:393;
CHFT,
pp. 220–21.)

Chapter Fifteen

Brigham Young, Heber Kimball, and Matthew Steed moved slowly eastward. The boy took them in the wagon fourteen miles south of Nauvoo and dropped them off at a member’s house. That man took them in his wagon twelve miles more and gave them each a dollar. When they got as far as Quincy they had to stop for five days while the two Apostles tried to regain a little strength. While they were there, George A. Smith, along with two companions, caught up with them, stayed with Brigham and Heber briefly, then went on ahead of them.

George A. was the youngest of the Twelve and the last to leave Nauvoo. Like the two senior Apostles, he was in terrible shape. The fever had affected his eyesight, leaving him almost totally blind and completely dependent on his two companions. He had been in such terrible shape when he left Nauvoo that his uncle Joseph Smith, Sr., accused someone of robbing the burying yard.

After their brief respite in Quincy, Brigham’s party started out again, turning east now, leapfrogging across the prairie by horseback, wagon, buggy, or stagecoach, or on foot, traveling without purse or scrip, depending on the goodness of a few family members who lived on the route, other members of the Church, or complete strangers. They would push on as long as the health of the two Apostles let them, then stop to rest when they could go no farther.

On the night of October fifth, seventeen days out, they arrived in Springfield, the capital of Illinois. Much to their surprise and joy, they found George A. and the others there waiting for them. They stayed in Springfield for almost a week, preaching to the small group of Saints while they rested and recuperated. Still so sick that the Saints had to rig a bed for him in a wagon, Brigham Young decreed that the three Apostles and their companions move on.

Though they had no way of knowing it, they had begun to gain ground on another of their fellow Apostles. Wilford Woodruff, John Taylor, and Derek Ingalls started from Nauvoo nearly six weeks earlier than Brigham’s party, but John Taylor had become so ill in Germantown, Indiana, that he was confined to his bed for nearly a month. Derek had suffered a relapse as well, though not nearly as severe as Taylor’s. Finally, at Taylor’s urging, Wilford Woodruff went on without them. After a long and slow recovery, Derek and Brother Taylor finally started east again.

Then came another setback to Brigham’s group. In Terre Haute, Indiana, Heber—once again too sick to travel—was taken to a local doctor who was supposed to be a faithful member of the Church. The doctor, so drunk he was barely coherent, mistakenly gave Heber a large dose of morphine. Within minutes Heber was writhing on the floor. As the night wore on, they nearly lost him. Brigham sat by his bedside as he retched over and over. The vomiting saved his life but left him terribly weak. The next morning, after much discussion, George A. and his companions went on without Brigham and Matthew and Heber, with the promise they would wait in Kirtland. Heber, barely able to speak, bravely predicted that he would reach Kirtland before them.

Two other Apostles were moving east independently of the others. Parley and Orson Pratt, in better financial and physical condition than any of the others, left Nauvoo on August twenty-ninth, traveling in a carriage with Parley’s wife and three children. Parley had been a missionary in New York City and had several friends there. He felt his family might fare better with them than if they were left in the barely developing settlement of Nauvoo. Orson and Parley decided to go by way of Detroit to visit their parents.