The Work and the Glory (25 page)

Read The Work and the Glory Online

Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

“Sorry for what?” Joseph replied softly. “It couldn’t seem any more fantastic to you than it does to me. Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself the very question? Why
did
this happen to me? And the answer always comes up the same. I don’t know. I only know it did.”

He turned, gazing into the darkness of the nearby forest. “It was right over there, you know.”

“What?”

“Where it happened. After I read the Bible and decided to pray, I knew exactly where I wanted to go. I had been in this stand of trees many times, cutting wood, looking for livestock.”

Nathan watched him, watched the memory filling his eyes. Finally, he spoke softly, “Mother believes you.”

Joseph turned around very slowly, one eyebrow coming up. “She does?”

“Yes.” Nathan told him quickly about her own experience in seeking which church to join and how his story had touched her. “She prayed about it for almost a month. Then she said she knew.”

Joseph looked away, but not before Nathan had caught a sudden glint in his eyes. “You don’t know what that means to me, Nathan,” he said, his voice husky. “Will you tell her that for me?”

“Yes.”

There was a long moment of silence, then finally Joseph turned back to him. “Now, about these gold plates.”

Nathan looked up quickly. “But you said there weren’t any.”

“No, I said I don’t have them. And I don’t.” His eyes lifted to meet Nathan’s. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Nathan cried, going up to his knees to face him, the dismay making his voice crack a little.

“Once again, Nathan, I’d like to tell you the whole story. Then you can ask questions. Is that fair?”

Nathan sat back slowly. “Fair enough.”

Now Joseph sat fully up, clasping his knees and putting his head down on his arms. “About three years passed after the vision of 1820. Nothing else had happened. I mean, I went about life as usual. I came in for a lot of ridicule and persecution because of my telling people.” He shook his head slowly. “That scene in town today has been repeated many times. But other than that, it was pretty much a normal life for a teenaged boy.

“It was September, 1823. I had reflected a great deal about my experience and wondered why nothing else had happened. The Lord had told me that the fulness of the gospel would at some future time be made known unto me, then three years of silence followed.

“I began to feel it was my own sins and weaknesses that had caused this period of silence.” There was a ghost of a smile, wistful, almost sad. “Not that I was guilty of any great sins. That is not my nature. But I often acted foolishly. I was guilty of too much levity.” He grinned more openly now. “You know my nature, Nathan. I love to have a good time.”

“Is that bad?”

“Of course not. But remember, I had been called of God, and such frivolity seemed out of character with the calling I had received. But anyway, one night I took myself to prayer and supplication to the Lord. I asked him to forgive my follies and imperfections. I also asked to know my standing with him.”

He fell silent, smoothing the grass with his fingertips. The silence stretched on and Nathan was tempted to prompt him, but he waited, sensing that Joseph was gathering his thoughts. Finally, he began speaking, slowly and distinctly.

“While I was thus in prayer—this was in my bedroom in the cabin where we lived before we moved here, just up the road.”

“Yes, I noticed it as I passed it tonight.”

“Yes. That’s where Hyrum and Jerusha live, now we have moved into the big house. Anyway, while I was praying, I suddenly noticed the room was getting light. The light grew brighter and brighter until the bedroom was brighter than at noonday. And there, standing in the air at my bedside, was a personage.”

Nathan felt a familiar prickle run along the back of his neck. Was there nothing normal that happened to Joseph when he prayed? Again a part of him reeled at what he was hearing, but also once again Nathan felt his heart burning as Joseph spoke. It was like every word was piercing the flesh and penetrating his very soul. “Was it God?” he finally ventured.

Joseph shook his head.

“Then what was it? What did it look like?”

“Not it,” Joseph smiled. “Him.”

“It was a man?”

“Yes. He had on a robe of the most exquisite whiteness, whiter than anything I had ever seen on this earth. The robe came down his arms to a little above the wrist, leaving his hands uncovered. It also came down to a little way above his ankles. He wore no shoes or sandals. His head was also uncovered.”

Nathan was staring at Joseph, transfixed at the verbal imagery he was creating.

“Not only was his robe of this incredible whiteness, but his very person was glorious beyond any description. His countenance was like lightning. That’s the only thing which comes close to describing it. This was what made the whole room brighter than daylight.”

“What did you do?”

Joseph laughed softly. “To be honest, at first I was frightened. I mean, suddenly here is this glorious being by my bedside, so brilliant he fills the whole room with light. But the fear quickly left me. He called me by name. He told me that his name was Moroni, and—”

“More-ohn-eye?” Nathan repeated the name slowly.

“Yes, that was his name. Moroni. He said he was a messenger sent from the presence of God.” Joseph shook his head slightly. “In light of what happened today, this next part should interest you, Nathan. Would you like to guess what the first thing he said was?”

“I don’t know.”

“He said God had a work for me and that because of that work my name would be known for good and evil, or rather that people would speak both good and evil of me throughout the world.”

Nathan digested that, thinking of the catcalls earlier that day.

Joseph had stopped and was peering into Nathan’s eyes. In the near darkness the blue seemed to be almost black and Nathan could not read their expression. “He then told me…” Joseph took a breath and let it out in a burst, as though he were still a little dazed himself. “He told me there was a book, written on gold plates, deposited in a nearby hill.”

Nathan had shot forward. “The gold Bible!”

Joseph shook his head. “That’s what everyone is calling it, but all he said was that it was a record written on gold plates. He said it was a record of the people who lived on this continent before our time and told how they had come to be here.”

Nathan was reeling. “You mean this is a record of the Indians?”

“The forefathers of the Indians,” Joseph corrected. “Or at least part of them. He also said the Savior had visited these people and the book contained the fulness of his gospel.

“After that he began to quote some scriptures from the Bible, prophecies from Isaiah and other Old Testament prophets about the last days. When he was finished, he spoke again of the plates, telling me the time had not yet come for me to have them, but when I did get them, I was to show them to no one except those to whom I would be instructed to show them, or I would be destroyed. As he was speaking, a vision was opened to me and I saw the place where the plates were buried. It is not far from here, and the vision was so clear and distinct, I knew I would have no trouble finding it again.

“When he finished, the light in the room began to gather about him, as though it were collecting itself right into his person. Then, it was almost like there was a conduit which opened up into heaven. He ascended up that passageway, growing more and more distant, until he disappeared.”

Full night had fallen now, and the sound of crickets and frogs rose like a soft chorus behind them. A mosquito buzzed near Nathan’s ear and he brushed at it without thinking, his mind racing. “So there really are gold plates?”

“Yes.”

“What do they look like, Joseph? How big are they?”

“You said you would let me finish before you asked questions.”

Chagrined, Nathan sat back. “I thought you were finished.”

Joseph chuckled. “So did I that night. You can imagine my astonishment. I lay there on my bed marveling greatly at what had happened, when suddenly once again my room began to fill with light.”

“Another angel?”

“No. It was Moroni again. He commenced speaking and repeated everything he had said the first time, without any variation. Then he told me of great judgments that were to come upon the earth in this generation. Having done that he ascended once again to heaven as he had done before.

“By this time, so deep were the impressions his visits had made upon my mind, any thought of sleep had fled. But imagine my surprise when once again my room began to fill with light. For the third time he stood at my bedside. Once again he repeated all he had said before. Then he warned me that Satan would seek to tempt me to use the plates for personal gain.”

Joseph shook his head in the darkness. “As you know, my family has gone through some hard times financially. The angel seemed to know about that, but said I was to have no other purpose in getting the plates than to glorify God and to build his kingdom, otherwise I could not have them.”

He exhaled slowly, feeling the weariness of that night. “When he ascended the third time, I immediately heard the cock crowing and realized his three visits had taken all of the night.”

“Where were the plates hidden?” Nathan burst out, the questions tumbling in his mind.

Joseph held up his hand, smiling at him in the darkness.

“You mean you’re still not finished?”

“No. Because Moroni was not finished.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“That morning I went out as usual to work with my father and brothers. We were in the midst of the harvest. But I was so exhausted with all that had happened and from being awake all night, my father noticed something was wrong. He finally sent me back to the house to rest, but as I crossed the fence I lost all strength. I must have fainted. I was unconscious for a time. The first thing I remember was a voice calling me by name again. When I opened my eyes, there was Moroni standing above me.”

“A fourth time?” Nathan breathed.

“Yes. Once again he repeated everything he had told me.” Joseph stopped, and gave a short laugh. “Now do you understand why I can remember everything so clearly?”

“I guess
so.
Four times!”

“Yes. When he was finished, he told me to return to the field and tell my father all that had happened, then I was to go to the hill where the plates were buried.”

That caught Nathan by surprise. “What did your father say?”

“My father is a very practical man,” Joseph said softly. “I am pleased to say he believed everything I told him. In fact, my family has always stood by me in this.” He shrugged. “They at least have believed me. Anyway, Father simply told me to do exactly as the angel had commanded me to do. So I left the field and went immediately to the hill where the plates were buried. Having seen it the night before in vision, I knew exactly where it was. It’s within walking distance of our farm. When I got there, I climbed to a spot near the top of the hill. There I found a stone of considerable size, half-buried in the ground. From above, it looked like a huge boulder, but I dug around it and found the bottom of it was flat. I got a large stick, and using it for a lever, pried the stone up.”

He stopped, but Nathan leaned forward eagerly. “And? Joseph, don’t stop now. What did you see?”

“Under the stone was a large box, made of flat stones laid in some kind of cement. And there in the box was everything he had said there would be.”

“What do you mean, everything he said there would be?” Nathan demanded. “Was there something besides the plates?”

“Oh, I didn’t mention the other things?”

“What other things?”

“Moroni said that with the plates I would find a Urim and Thummim—two stones set in silver bows—which fastened to a breastplate, a piece of armor you would strap around a man’s chest. The stones were to assist me in translating the book. The breastplate has a place to attach the Urim and Thummim so as to leave the hands free to work.”

The shocks were coming like pelting rain. “So you are to translate this book? That’s the work God has for you?”

“Nathan, Nathan,” Joseph laughed. “Please let me finish.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan replied ruefully. “This story has too many endings.”

Joseph moved a little closer to Nathan. The air had turned quite chilly now. The harvest moon, now half waning, was rising above the trees to the east of them, turning their puffs of breath into silvery clouds. Also in the light Nathan saw Joseph had turned very sober. “What?” he said, puzzled by the sudden shift of mood.

“You believe me, don’t you, Nathan.” It was not a question, but a statement, filled with wonder.

It stunned Nathan.

“You believe it all. I can see it on your face.”

For a moment, time seemed suspended as Nathan probed the inward recesses of his soul. There was still the incredu-lousness, still the sense of hearing something that couldn’t possibly be true. And yet he knew it was. He knew without the least shadow of doubt that everything Joseph was telling him was true. And so, finally, with a wonder of his own, he said, “Yes, Joseph. I believe you.”

Joseph leaped to his feet and dragged Nathan up to face him. He grasped him by the shoulders, then pulled him to him and pummeled his back. “Thank you, Nathan. Thank you.”

After a moment Nathan pulled back, twisting his mouth into a sardonic grin. “Does this mean I get to hear the end of the story?”

Joseph laughed. “Yes.” Almost instantly he sobered, shaking his head. They both sat back down again, then Joseph went on. “So I’m kneeling there, in front of this stone box, looking down at the plates and the breastplate, filled with wonder and amazement.” He sighed, a sound heavy with pain. “And other things as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“At that point, I unfortunately proved Moroni had been right.”

“Right about what?”

“Remember, he had told me I would be tempted to use the plates for my own personal gain. In spite of that, on the way to the hill, I must confess, all I could think about was the gold. What it would mean to my family. A fortune! And suddenly mine.” He passed a hand across his eyes. “And suddenly, there it was! Right at my fingertips.”

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