Parley laughed. “Most of the problems with the law of consecration are practical. That’s why Joseph got the revelations in the first place.”
“Why do you say that?” Lydia asked.
“Haven’t you heard about ‘the family’ out here at the Morleys’?”
Nathan and Lydia looked at each other. “I guess not,” Nathan responded.
Sidney shook his head sadly. “That was a disaster.”
Parley explained. “Shortly after Oliver and I and the others left Kirtland for Missouri, some of the new converts decided they wanted to live the same order as that practiced by the disciples in ancient times. Remember, in the book of Acts, it talks about the disciples having all things in common?”
“Yes, we’re familiar with that,” said Nathan.
“Well, this group, among whom were Father and Sister Morley, decided they would share all things in common, like a large family. A group of them moved out to the Morley farm.” Parley pulled a face. “Before you could turn around and shake a stick, there was a group large enough to bring on a famine. But they didn’t know what they were doing. There were no guidelines, no rules to govern how things were handled. Members of the ‘family’ assumed that anything belonging to one person belonged to everyone. They would take one another’s items—clothes, personal belongings—and use them without leave.”
“Levi Hancock decided he would join the family,” Sidney went on. “He was out here one night. He had a beautiful pocket watch. One of the family saw it and walked up and took it from his pocket without asking. Levi was a little taken aback, but thought that the man would bring it back soon.” He shook his head. “Instead he went off and sold it.”
“He sold it?” Lydia cried. “Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that. Levi was quite peeved and demanded to know why he had done such a thing. The man simply replied, ‘Oh, I thought it was all in the family.’”
Parley chuckled, but with a trace of sadness. “Levi said he didn’t much like the doings of the family if that was how they worked.”
“I don’t blame him,” Nathan said.
Sidney went on. “When we finally arrived back from New York with Joseph and Emma and learned what was happening, Joseph persuaded the family to abandon their plan and wait for the Lord to reveal a more perfect law. That’s when the revelations about consecration began.”
“And
consecration
is the important word,” Parley broke in. “The Lord said, through the Psalmist, ‘The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.’ In other words, nothing that we have in this life really belongs to us, not in the sense of true ownership. So we consecrate ourselves to give whatever we have been blessed with to the Lord, since it is his anyway.”
Sidney nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly right. We are only stewards, or caretakers, of his properties. This is why it is sometimes called the law of consecration and stewardship.”
“Nathan and I have already discussed this. We have no problems with either of those principles,” Lydia said. “That is why we have decided to give the five hundred dollars to the Church.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sidney responded warmly, “but it’s not quite that simple. That would be charity. The law of consecration is much more than simple charity.”
“That’s what we’re trying to understand,” Nathan said. “Tell us what we should do with our money.”
But before Sidney could answer, the baby began to fuss. They waited for a moment, but the soft cries increased, then turned into an angry wail. Lydia smiled and got up and took him out of his bed. He stopped crying almost instantly, which brought a laugh from each of the men.
“Just ten days old, and already he knows his mother,” Nathan said, with evident pride.
“Joseph said you will bless him during the conference this week.”
“Yes. I think we’ll wait until the last day. The Sabbath seems to be an appropriate day for such a thing.”
Sidney nodded. “It will be good for the Saints to see a child blessed. Many have not witnessed that before. What shall you call him?”
Lydia looked at Nathan as she answered. “Nathan’s mother says he’s the spittin’ image of Nathan as a baby, so I think we’ll have two Nathans in the family now.”
Nathan smiled. “Yes, I think we’ll call him Nathan Benjamin.”
“Wonderful,” Parley said.
“So,” Nathan said, eager to pursue the main question that was troubling him, “what do we do if we want to accept this law God has revealed to us?”
“First you meet with Edward—Bishop Partridge. He’s been called to act as the Church’s agent in these matters. Together you and he will determine what stewardship you ought to have. This is done based on your wants, your needs, and your circumstances.”
“Stewardship?”
“Yes. This will be how you make your living. A farm, a store, whatever you and he agree on together.”
“We just assumed we would continue to farm.”
“That’s fine. Most do. But the law is designed to accommodate all needs and wants—farmer, merchant, blacksmith. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you two and Bishop Partridge decide together on what your stewardship shall be.”
“All right. Let’s say we decide Lydia and I shall be farmers.”
“Fine. The first thing you do is give your property to the Church—or, in other words, you consecrate it to the Lord.”
“So we give him the five hundred dollars?” Lydia asked. Little Nathan had promptly fallen asleep again in her arms, and she was as intent on the conversation as was Nathan.
“Yes. This is done with a legal document. If it were property, you would do it by legal deed. In your case you would convey the five hundred dollars to the Church. At that point, for all intents and purposes, it is no longer yours.”
Lydia spoke with quiet solemnity. “But in the eyes of the Lord it never was ours.”
“Exactly right,” Sidney agreed, pleased. “So you give Bishop Partridge your cash. Let’s say that you and he have decided that you need about thirty acres of land to farm. If your family were larger, it could be much more than that. But let’s say thirty, as an example. At that point he then gives you thirty acres, again by legal deed.”
“But,” Nathan cried, “that’s where I get confused. Where is he going to get thirty acres of land to just give away?”
“This is the genius of the plan,” Parley said. “It comes from what is called surplus property.”
“Surplus?”
“Yes. Let’s keep on with the example Brother Sidney has used. One way the bishop could give you the land is to take the very money you have given him and purchase it.”
“But then he wouldn’t have any surplus. It comes out an even trade.”
“Unless,” Lydia said slowly, beginning to see where Parley was leading, “unless it didn’t take the full five hundred dollars.”
“Exactly!” Parley cried, eager now for them to see it. “Good farmland in Kirtland is selling for about five dollars an acre. Thirty acres will take a hundred and fifty of the money you have given. Then let’s say it takes another hundred and fifty to build you a cabin, get you a horse or two, some tools.”
“There’s still two hundred dollars left,” Nathan finished for him.
“Which,” Sidney said, emphasizing his point with a sweep of his hand, “can then be used to buy someone else his stewardship.”
“That’s what Father Morley’s done, isn’t it?” Lydia said.
“Yes. He had more acres than he needed—surplus—and has given them to other Saints who are in need.”
“So the poor are truly blessed,” Lydia said softly. She felt a little thrill to think that they could be part of such a noble endeavor.
“But”—Nathan’s mind was working quickly—“if you have more poor than people with surplus, don’t you have a problem?”
“Yes,” Parley agreed. “But there is another source of help for the poor. This is also called surplus.” His eyes twinkled a little. “Let’s keep going with this farm we’ve already given you. You and Lydia are hard workers, good farmers. You plant wheat, corn, maybe some barley. Come next fall you have a good harvest. Let’s suppose you sell your crops for five hundred dollars.”
“That would be nice!” Lydia exclaimed.
Sidney laughed. “Parley is always the eternal optimist.”
Parley accepted the banter in good form. “I like to keep the arithmetic simple,” he grinned. “So, you make five hundred dollars. But let’s say that you and Lydia and little Nathan only need two hundred dollars of that to live that year. What do you do with the rest?”
“We give it to the Church as surplus,” Lydia exclaimed.
“That’s right.” Sidney sat back, pleased with their afternoon’s work. “And you do this because you believe that you are only a steward of the Lord’s property. It is the Lord’s way, Nathan and Lydia, I tell you. The poor are blessed, not by taking from the rich against their will, but by the rich humbling themselves and giving of their surplus through love.”
“You are right,” Lydia said, deeply impressed. “It is brilliant. And so simple.” She looked at Nathan, who was suddenly smiling mischievously. “What?” she asked.
“I like this plan. We’ve not even met with Bishop Partridge yet, and already we have a thirty-acre farm and have made five hundred dollars profit in the first year.”
Chapter Fourteen
W
hen the four missionaries to the Lamanites left Kirtland about three weeks after they had first arrived, they left nearly a hundred and thirty new members of the Church in Ohio, with more coming in all the time. One of the most important factors in this remarkable growth was the manifestation of the gifts of the Spirit found in the new Church. The Bible clearly taught that those gifts had been present in the New Testament Church, and there was great resurgence of interest in returning to Christianity as it was found in the New Testament.
The Church of Jesus Christ restored to the earth through the ministry of Joseph Smith was a church filled with revelation, both general and personal. By the spring of 1831, Joseph had already received and recorded about fifty revelations which counseled individuals on spiritual matters, gave the Prophet direction on how to run the infant Church, or otherwise showed those things which were pleasing or displeasing to the Lord.
Nor was revelation confined to the Prophet Joseph. Again and again, the Holy Ghost was operative in the lives of the new Saints. Samuel Smith, one of the Prophet’s younger brothers, came to Harmony shortly after the appearance of John the Baptist to Joseph and Oliver. He was very skeptical about the things Joseph and Oliver told him, but agreed to retire to the woods and make it a matter of earnest prayer. A short time later he returned, convinced of the truthfulness of their report, and was baptized by Oliver. He returned to his parents, as Joseph later reported, “greatly glorifying and praising God, being filled with the Holy Spirit.”
The day the Church was organized was, in Joseph’s words, “a happy time spent in witnessing and feeling for ourselves the powers and blessings of the Holy Ghost.”
In Colesville, during the month of April 1830, Newel Knight became possessed of an evil, dark influence. He suffered in both mind and limb as his face was distorted and his body began to twist and contort in a most terrible manner. Finally he was caught up off the floor and tossed about most fearfully. Neighbors and relatives gathered to witness the frightful scene. The Prophet Joseph arrived and, upon seeing Newel, immediately took his hand and in the name of Jesus Christ commanded the evil spirit to leave him. Instantly, Newel was freed. He testified that he saw the devil leave him and vanish from sight. The Spirit of the Lord then rested upon Newel and the visions of eternity were opened to his view.
During the first conference of the Church, held in June of 1830, much instruction and exhortation was given, and the Spirit of the Lord was poured out upon those present without measure. Many prophesied, while others had the heavens opened to them. Some testified that they were filled with unspeakable love and peace.
In June of 1830, under the direction of the Lord, Joseph began work on a “translation” of the Bible. This was not an attempt to translate from ancient languages, but an inspired translation by the Spirit. Passages which had been changed down through the centuries were corrected, lost passages were restored. Several jewels of scripture—writings of Moses, including the Prophecy of Enoch—were the direct result.
And so it continued, revelation following revelation. The sick were healed, the troubled were comforted, the hearts of men were changed. Prayers were uttered and prayers were answered. Walls of ice were split and walls of unbelief tumbled. Inspiration, prophecy, new scripture, miracles, love, peace, testimony—they were poured out upon the Saints in abundance, and like two of the disciples of old, hundreds were led to exclaim, “Did not our hearts burn within us?”
But the adversary also knew of this power and influence and sought to deceive and confuse and mislead. Shortly after the turn of the century, as the great religious revival swept across America and camp meetings sprouted like weeds in a fertilized garden, so-called “manifestations of the Spirit” became commonplace. Men would scratch themselves and howl like baboons. Women would swoon. Some would jump up on tables, arms and legs twisting grotesquely, faces hideously distorted. For a time, the meetings and “manifestations” became so common that one part of New York became known as the “Burned-Over District,” so named from the notion that so many people were “on fire” with the Spirit.
Shortly after they were first married, Mary Ann had prevailed upon Benjamin to attend a camp meeting with her. She could remember it with sharp clarity. It was one of the things which had completely soured Benjamin on organized religion. The meeting was held in a large meadow, near the center of which grew a large oak tree. Warning of the dangers of evil spirits, the preacher called on all present to help “tree the devil.” The men formed a large circle around the perimeter of the field. Then, dropping to their hands and knees, they began to move slowly toward the tree, throwing their heads back and howling like wolves or barking like dogs. This, said the preacher, would drive any evil spirits into the tree, where they could no longer interfere with the functioning of the Spirit.