Well, in the last twelve months, we have made the rounds to most of the early church history sites once again. Round one was all of our travels on the east coast which we made in conjunction with Spencer's baptism. It was inspired that we take that trip for so many reasons. One of those reasons, for me at least, was the strong spirit I felt in each of these places. The spirit bore testimony to me yet again of the truth of the gospel, of Joseph Smith as a prophet of God, of the Book of Mormon as revealed scripture, and of temples as holy houses of God upon the earth. This witness would give power to my testimony as I bore it nearly every day to my seminary students. As we studied the Doctrine and Covenants together, I was so glad to have these places, and my experiences there, fresh in my mind. Now, however, we are coming to the end of the year, and I feel compelled to finish off our church history tour. From Kirtland, the Saints journeyed to Missouri, then to Nauvoo, and finally to the Salt Lake Valley. Consequently, the next stop on our journey, seeing as how we already made it to Kirtland, was to Missouri, with all of it's sorrow and significance.
Our first stop in Missouri was to one of the most fascinating places in church history--past and future--the valley of Adam Ondi-Ahman. I've been making a list this year of prophecies that are, or seem to be associated with Adam-Ondi-Ahman. They range from the obvious meeting that will take place there when Christ comes to take back the keys from Adam, etc, to the sons of Levi offering an offering in righteousness, and the massive sacrament meeting where Christ will drink of the fruit of the vine with so, so many. Included on this list is my analysis of the Book of Revelation, and how it relates to Adam-Ondi-Ahman, but I won't go into all of that here. Suffice it to say, I had much on my mind as we walked around this sacred valley. Usually when we visit we simply walk around the upper rim like the rest of the visitors.
This time, however, we decided to stroll down into the heart of the
valley. It was beautiful, with a curious grove of trees that were
planted for some purpose or another.
After strolling around, thinking, and praying, we headed back to the car where we happened upon a strange gentleman. He was Native American looking, but dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. He was a curious man who gave the kids cookies and told us stories about his travels and his work in sharing the gospel. He talked about needing to come back to this place ever so often to get new direction for where he was needed next. The twinkle in his eye was suggestive of something he knew; something which we didn't. As we loaded into the car and drove to our hotel I couldn't help but speculate out loud to the kids about him being one of the three Nephites. The likelihood is slim, but it was fun to postulate nonetheless.
The next morning it was to another important site--the temple prison--or as it is better known, Liberty Jail. I have been to this jail many times, as have our kids, but I was struck this time around by the overwhelming sorrow Joseph must have felt. He had been so sure about redeeming Zion. He had been so sure about the Lord fighting the battles for the saints. He had received revelation and was the prophet of the Lord upon the earth. But, and this was a big but, things weren't working out the way he thought they would. Of course, the Lord never lets things be that easy. Instead he fills our lives with trials and tribulations, chaos and contradictions. He gives Abraham a son and then commands him to offer him as a sacrifice. He tells Martha Lazarus' sickness isn't a sickness unto death, and then Lazarus dies. He commands Joseph to redeem Zion and the Lord will fight for the Saints. Then Joseph is defeated, betrayed, and thrown into prison were he starves and freezes and ponders on the meaning of all things. I can only imagine the sorrow and confusion that he went through. The suffering and grief that acquainted him with another who suffered and grieved. I wonder if Joseph didn't realize as he sat in that jail that his mission was different than he had presumed, that he would only lay the foundations of Zion while in his mortal experience, not see it redeemed. I wonder if his heart felt like it was irreparably broken at this realization. If the humbling will of the Lord weighed upon his very soul as he came to understand that his destiny was to be different than he had previously assumed. Liberty Jail changed Joseph forever. He emerged a different man. A man content with his mission. A man resigned to his destiny. These things weighed upon my own heart and mind as we sat in the jail.
They weighed upon me even more heavily as we crossed over to the Jackson County Visitor's Center and walked on the lot for the great temple
complex of the New Jerusalem. I can't help but wonder, each time I'm here, when the New Jerusalem will rise up, or descend down, whichever it may be. The last time we were here we had a family prayer upon the temple lot asking the Lord to hasten His work upon the earth. This time I simply prayed in my heart, as I often do, that I will live to see the day and be found worthy to gather with the Saints. I know we can't all be called to the Center Stake of Zion, but somebody has to go. Maybe I can journey down with the Ten Tribes when they travel from the "North Country." Who knows. One can dream, can't they!
After walking, thinking, praying, and playing, it was time to head on our way. Oklahoma and our McArhur relatives would be expecting us for dinner. Church history was still calling, but Nauvoo would have to wait, as well as the trek west and the Salt Lake Valley .
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