Day 4
The Kirtland Temple
There are, I will admit, some amusing things about the Kirtland Temple. For instance, the Saints wrote “built by the church of the latter day saints a.d. 1834” although it was neither begun nor finished in a.d. 1834. It’s also interesting how several years after the Reorganized Church fixed the temple up and transformed it into the beautiful white edifice we all recognize today, they learned that originally, the building had a red roof, olive green doors and was shimmering blue-grey in color. In other words, they thought it had been white but had faded and so made it white again only to discover that the dingy grey color may very well have been a closer match to the original paintjob than their nice, new whitewash. But they have no plans to change it back. And I don’t think that if we owned it, we would be too likely to change it to red, olive and grey either.
The question of ownership is an important one. Some people are under the mistaken impression that the RLDS faith somehow sneaked the temple away from the LDS people while they were far away in Upper California, trying to get that stupid desert to blossom like a rose (I understand it was hard work). But this mindset is unfair to the story and actually not very accurate. Wildly inaccurate, you might say.
It all began back in 1862 when a local court sold all the stuff the Church had left behind in an attempt to make some numbers match. Apparently, the Prophet Joseph had left behind some mismatched numbers, and now that it was apparent he would never come back (he had, after all, been dead for nearly twenty years), they decided to figure it out themselves. A man named Perkins bought up many of the Kirtland properties, and he in turn sold the Temple that very day to Russell Huntley, a onetime Saint who, according to the Community of Christ Historic Sites Coordinator based in Kirtland, Lachlan Mackay, retained “deep love for the Temple.” He was a good guy and fixed up his bargain (he only paid a hundred and fifty bucks for it) at significant cost to him. He eventually joined the Reorganized Church.
And here let me start a new paragraph to laud the Reorganized Church. As Emma said of herself, in a very real way, many Saints didn’t leave the Church, the Church left them. While of course, it is very easy to scoff and say that it’s their own fault they were left behind, who am I to judge? Huntley was one of those left behind, and as the RLDS picked up the leftover Saints throughout the Midwest, he was one of those brought into their fold.
Huntley, based on the little I know of him, seems to have been a virtuous man. Although he had now poured thousands of dollars into the temple, he sold the temple to Joseph Smith III for the same purchase price he had paid in 1862—$150. Eleven years had passed.
Joseph Smith III later began to worry that his deed might not be fully legal, so he set in motion the most interesting legal tale. Mr Mackay told it to me with an economy of words I don’t think I can beat, so allow me to quote him for a moment:
At some point, Joseph III realized that his deed might be questionable and in an attempt to settle ownership issues a lawsuit was filed. Named as the plaintiff was the Reorganized Church. Named as defendants were Joseph III, John Taylor and others who might have a claim to the Temple. It was, in part, a friendly lawsuit with Joseph III and the church working out the details in advance.
The Judge's ruling, however, was not the one that they had expected. He ruled that the 1862 sale was illegal, thus wiping out all the transactions after that, in effect taking the Temple away from Joseph III as personal property. At the same time the Judge ruled that the Temple had passed from Joseph Smith, Jr., as Trustee-in-Trust, to his heirs, meaning Emma Smith and upon her death, Joseph Smith III. But, according to the Judge, Joseph Jr.'s heirs did not own the Temple. They simply held the title for the church and they were legally obligated to turn the building over to the church, which they did.
Isn’t that the best story? There are a number of other Kirtland Temple stories that deserve debunking, but instead of waxing longwinded on the subject, allow me instead to point you towards a good book, The Kirtland Temple: A Historical Narrative by Roger Launius and published by Herald House (the Community of Christ’s Deseret Book). It even addresses the whole livestock-in-the-temple canard. That alone should be worth the price.
(Note: Lest you forget, the watershed work on the whole Mormons in Kirtland thing remains the Famous Historian’s The Heavens Resound.)
Inside the Kirtland Temple
We had a very knowledgeable young hostess for our tour by the name of Julie Henson who, I imagine, will be very successful in her religious career as a member of the “other” Latter-day Saint church. This is a good time to mention again that not long after our Kirtland tour, the RLDS church officially changed its name to the Community of Christ. They feel it better represents them and who they have become. But speaking of “other” Latter-day Saint sects, don’t suppose there aren’t many, many more than even, say, a dozen. From the Kirtland Temple’s bookstore, located in a neighboring building, I purchased a book by a fellow who once served, as I did, an LDS mission in Korea. But then he went on to be a Seventy for the RLDS. I do not intend to do that myself. The book is all about different groups that have broken off over the years—some of which are quite interesting. You can be a sort-of Mormon and belong to groups that run the gamut from peyote use to outlawing menstruation (children in this group are immaculately conceived only—it’s the rule). It’s a very interesting book. But I have already forgotten what the point of this discussion is. And the point is unrelated to whether Independence or Los Angeles is going to be the New Jerusalem. The point was . . . this: the Kirtland Temple is quite the place.
It’s astounding what has happened in this building. Angels and prophets and visions and voices, both Christ and His Father, and long promised prophecies’ fulfillment. Do you remember the Special Witnesses of Christ video that premiered between sessions of General Conference April 2000? (I remember watching it in the Nauvoo Ward’s chapel, and feeling the power God has installed in his mortal servants. The video is, essentially, the testimony of all fifteen of our living prophets and apostles. The transcript is available in the April 2001 Ensign.) President Boyd K. Packer’s segment was recorded inside the Kirtland Temple; he stood among the pews, the distinctive pulpits behind him, and spoke of the miracles that occurred in the Kirtland Temple, specifically, the appearances of Moses, Elias and Elijah. “Now, in our day,” President Packer goes on to say, “the marvelous work is moving forward—the family history work, the temple work in which families are being united for all eternity. . . . It is a work designed by the Lord and introduced by Himself as He came to this spot and introduced the prophet Elijah, who gave the keys of this work.”
The Kirtland Temple is an amazing place—yes historically, but still today. The memory of great blessings’ revelation, which blessings we still experience today, keeps the building hallow and sacred, a place apart. As prayed for, the Kirtland Temple is still a place we feel constrained to acknowledge that God has sanctified, and that it is His house, a place of His holiness (D&C 109:13).
Places to Go
Following a short lecture by local guide Carl Anderson, many of us crossed over to the neighboring graveyard where, no doubt, some of our future friends are buried. I was more solemn than usual, considering my normal attitude when surrounded by dead people, and so no cemetery hijinks ensued. No crazy photos taken, in other words.
But I’m glad it was not so. Because to lose the spirit of the Temple before we arrived at our other sites would have been to diminish the other sites’ sanctity. The Newel K. Whitney Store, where the Word of Wisdom was revealed. The Isaac Morley and John Johnston farms, where Christ appeared. We spent the whole day in places Christ has been. That is an amazing way to spend a day.
Honesty
In the interests of honesty (which, according to Day 1, I am a champion of), I need to qualify some things. First, although yes, Day 4 was very likely the single most spiritual day of the trip, it is unfair to say I was at all moments holy. For instance, though there may have been no genuinely crazy photos taken in the Kirtland cemetery, I did lie down next to a statue of a sleeping child and have my picture taken. And an inexplicable, round, brick room in the middle of a field at Mr Isaac Morley’s farm did inspire one vaguely silly event, and I did somehow find time to read my entire Calvin and Hobbes book. Also, at that time there was (it should be gone now as the Church voluntarily moved the highway that had been the problem) a sign reading “CAUTION HAZARDOUS CROSSWALK.” I thought that was a hilarious sign; I took a picture of it.
There. I feel much better.
Memories Stirred by a Can of Tahiti Treat
I had never heard of Tahiti Treat before, so I selected it as my drink. We were having our lunch—Subway, I think—at a local ward building, and the choices of soda were unusually eclectic. Tahiti Treat, for example. My memory of this lunch is very vague, but I seem to recall the local Relief Society being there to help out. Which makes it fun to imagine that instead of mass-produced sandwiches, we were eating something they had made for us. Which makes it fun to imagine that it was some spicy soup full of noodles and foreign vegetables and the occasional sliver of freeze-dried meat—perhaps with some bites-back sauce on the side to be stirred in.
Makes it fun, in other words, to imagine I am back in Korea.
At zone conferences, the Relief Society connected to the building would often throw together a simple lunch for us. Occasionally though, it would not be a simple lunch. We had a self-appointed mission grandma, and she loved to cook for the missionaries. And she loved to cook bulkogi because she knew missionaries like meat—especially American missionaries. And she loved to recruit as many people into the kitchen as she could and turn a simple meeting into an opportunity for gluttony.
But usually, the food was more like what wards would often make for themselves, when they met for a meal after church: a simple soup like the one described above. But the sudden remembrance of spicy soup is a misplaced memory, I am sure. For as surely as Buckeyes don’t make kimchi, Koreans don’t drink Tahiti Treat.
Natural Things
The temple quarry was our last stopping point before we headed to dinner. The Kirtland quarry, rather than being an uninteresting permaflood like Nauvoo’s, is a quaintly elegant waterfall. A waterfall that encourages skipping through. But I, paragon of virtue that I am, would not skip through.
Theric having made one good choice, it was decided we should go to dinner. We had an appointment with an Amish family. How often they take in groups of fifty for dinner, I can’t say, but they were marvelous hosts. As was the food. Oh man, was that food good. All of it was real, you see, from the potatoes to the meat to the pie. Genuine Amish goodness. By far the best meal we had on the trip.
Dark attacked us not long after we arrived, and so we ate by lantern light. After dinner, I stepped outside to smell the clean air, and took a short walk down the road. I passed some carriages that had been parked for the day and was amused to see one concession to modernity—reflectors. But I would say that reflectors are a very wise concession to make. Getting hit by passing motor vehicles can’t be high on anyone’s to do list.
Motor vehicles. (Sigh.) Even after our short time with the Amish, the last thing I was aching to do was get on a bus. Cramped bus quarters just can’t compete with open land. Although some have written about younger Amish generations deserting the old ways for city-life, I can’t help but wonder if the Amish lifestyle won’t start attracting people from the “modern” world who Just Can’t Take It Anymore?
Probably not, but voluntary simplicity as a way of life is already making waves statistically, and I can see why. Anyone who wants to try growing their own food instead of wasting their free time at the mall is bound to decide dirt doesn’t hurt, after all. In fact, it may be just what the (spiritual) doctor ordered.
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Thanks for revisiting Nauvoo with me. I would love to hear your thoughts.