Enlightened by the Spirit of Truth

I have been thinking recently about an experience I had near the end of my mission. I was serving in Watsonville, California at the time. Christmas was fast approaching, and so was the day I would be flying home.

My companion and I were door knocking on the second day of December, a Saturday, when Ben opened his door. He was a friendly older gentleman who expressed interest but said he was busy, so we set up an appointment for the following afternoon. When we arrived the next day, Ben led us into his office, which was filled with Christian literature.

We started teaching the first discussion and got through the Joseph Smith story. When we started talking about The Book of Mormon, Ben asked why another book was necessary. “We are all prophets and apostles,” he said. Then he asked us to find one truth in The Book of Mormon that is not in the Bible. I started flipping pages and praying for help, but I did not seem to get an answer. So I prayed harder. Meanwhile, my companion introduced the doctrine of eternal marriage.

As my companion and Ben were discussing Matthew 22:25-30, I had a very strong impression from the Spirit that said, “Every truth in The Book of Mormon is in the Bible, yet more clearly explained in The Book of Mormon.” I was then impressed to turn to Moroni 8 and ask Ben’s feelings about infant baptism. He said it was wrong and unnecessary and quoted Paul saying, “Before I had the law I was alive, but once I had the law I was dead” (Romans 7:9).  I agreed with him and then read Moroni 8:12. 

"But little children are alive in Christ, even from the foundation of the world; if not so, God is a partial God, and also a changeable God, and a respecter to persons; for how many little children have died without baptism!"

Ben agreed with the passage and this served to confirm the earlier impression that I had received.

We talked about a few other things but eventually came back to The Book of Mormon. My companion asked Ben if he would accept more scripture if God brought it forth. We had to make sure that he understood that God was doing this. He answered that he would only accept it if he could find a foundation for it in the Bible. He then repeated his challenge about finding a truth in The Book of Mormon that is not in the Bible. The impression I got from the Spirit at this point hit me like ton of bricks.

I said, “Wait, just a moment ago you said that if you could not find foundation for something in the Bible you would not accept it.” Then I asked, “How can we find a truth in The Book of Mormon that is not in the Bible if you will not accept anything without a foundation for it being in the Bible?”

That got him. He hemmed and hawed for a moment and then said that he meant a truth he had not yet found in the Bible.

“Sir,” I said, “you give us an impossible challenge, for we are not mind readers and we cannot know what you do and do not know.”

Again, he hemmed and hawed before reissuing his challenge.

It was at this point that we concluded our meeting. We had to hurry home so that we could be on time for the First Presidency’s Christmas Devotional satellite broadcast. But first, I tried to give Ben my testimony and tell him how I knew these things were true. He passed it off as irrelevant. We gave him a copy of The Book of Mormon and challenged him to read and pray about it. Then we departed.

Throughout this whole experience, my companion and I had some big impressions from the Spirit. My companion later told me that he had one that kept repeating, saying, “If you believe not these words, you believe not in Jesus Christ.” He thought it was a scripture and kept asking for the reference.

Meanwhile, as Ben was bashing The Book of Mormon, we both felt the spirit and knew that it was independent of anything our antagonist was saying. In a situation where our faith might have been shaken, we both knew by virtue of the spirit that The Book of Mormon is true. There simply could be no doubt.

As it was the first Sunday of the month, I had fasted that morning for a spiritual experience and a strengthening of my testimony and I clearly received both. The Lord answers prayers and looks after His servants.

Boyd K. Packer taught that we have "not only the right but the obligation to understand what the gift of the Holy Ghost is. And when you do, the Spirit will be present with you often enough and in such power as to protect you in whatever you do." He then added that the Spirit "will bless you in times of struggle and difficulty that certainly will be part of your life."

There were definitely times when some of the investigators I taught on my mission provided a struggle. Yet, during those times I sought to have the Spirit with me, and to teach by the Spirit, I was sustained and strengthened, even given what I should say. As Ben rejected my testimony and attacked the Book of Mormon, the Holy Ghost testified to both my companion and I that it is true.

Almost a year and a half earlier I had had a similar experienced. My companion at that time and I found another gentleman who also expressed some interest. When we returned for a teaching appointment, we noticed a tall stack of books next to his chair, and we knew that we were in trouble.

For the next hour he fired one challenge after another at us, and we answered as best we could, but then, guided by the Spirit, I kind of took over.  I told my story of receiving a witness from the spirit, that I had just experienced a few weeks before this, and bore the most powerful testimony I could, and I withstood the challenges he and his wife both threw back at me.  His wife got so angry at one point that she almost threw her copy of the Book of Mormon at me!

After we left, my companion turned to me and said, “You are amazing.”  But it wasn't me, it was the Spirit. He had strengthened me as I bore witness of the truth of the restored gospel.  He had made weak things become strong! As Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf has taught recently, "Christ’s precious gift of grace unlocks the gates of heaven -- even as it opens the windows of heaven"

I experienced what seemed like a significant amount of adversity in the first six months of my mission. Then, one night I found myself on my knees pleading for a witness from the spirit.  After some difficulty, as I think my faith and sincerity were being tested, I got the witness I sought.  It was as if a match had been lit in the dark of night. Anne Frank is supposed to have said that a single candle can both defy and define the darkness. On this night, the despair and doubt fled, and the light that flowed into me increased until it nigh consumed me.  And I knew, really knew, in a way I had not before. Yet, even if I had not had that experience, I would still have a testimony of the Book of Mormon.

First, I would have that testimony because I experimented on the word, specifically, Ether 12:27. I was weak, I humbled myself and exercised faith, and through His grace, I was made strong. Because of this I know that Ether 12:27 is valid direction from God and, thus, the book in which that counsel is found is from God, that the individuals who wrote and translated it were prophets of God, and that the church organized through the prophet who translated it has God at the helm.

Second, I had multiple experiences on my mission such as the two I have described in this post. President Russell M. Nelson has taught, "True disciples of Jesus Christ are willing to stand out, speak up, and be different from the people of the world. They are undaunted, devoted, and courageous." My mission presented numerous opportunities to be undaunted, devoted, and courageous, and when I took those opportunities, the Holy Ghost was with me to sustain and strengthen, to comfort, and to give me the words I should say. Often the words given to me testified of the truth of the Book of Mormon, thus those words were additional witnesses of the truth of that book of scripture.

Boyd K. Packer also taught that there are times, perhaps even for some all of the time, when we "have no appreciation or understanding of the gift that we have, the power and authority that come. As you read the revelations, you'll find the Holy Ghost referred to as a Comforter — think of that, a Comforter — and as a teacher. And we're told that it will abide with us and be in us."

He added that, "We have so much power that's available to us, and we shouldn't fear. The marvelous thing is that it operates with every one of us in our own lives. And the Lord hasn't required that all of us choose the same occupation or be the same size or weight or age or anything else. It's available to everyone who will come with a contrite spirit, a broken heart."

Perhaps there are times when we feel that we have sought a witness, that we have planted seeds and exercised faith, yet despite our sincerity, we have not received the clear answer we expected. Perhaps that is how Oliver Cowdry felt at one point as he served as scribe for Joseph Smith as he translated the Book of Mormon by the gift and power of God. Oliver asked several times to see the plates in order to gain a testimony of the work and Joseph received a revelation from God for Oliver.

The Lord reminded Oliver that he had often sought instruction from God, and that each time he inquired he received instruction from the Spirit. "If it had not been so," said the Lord, "thou wouldst not have come to the place where thou are at this time."

The Lord went on to say, "Behold, thou knowest that thou hast inquired of me and I did enlighten thy mind; and now I tell thee these things that thou mayest know that thou hast been enlightened by the Spirit of truth. Yea, I tell thee, that thou mayest know that there is none else save God that knowest thy thoughts and the intents of thy heart."

The Lord also said that his purpose in revealing these things to Oliver was so he would know that the words he wrote at Joseph's dictation were true. Even so, it seems that Oliver did not feel these witnesses had been clear enough. If so, God knew of these thoughts and feelings, for the Lord added this witness:

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?”

Regarding this revelation, which is found in Section 6 of the Doctrine & Covenants, Oliver would later say that he had not told anyone of his secret prayer in Palmyra regarding the truthfulness of Joseph’s work. Yet, the Lord reminded him of the spiritual witness he had obtained which was greater than if he had seen the plates.

We should be careful not to look beyond the mark. Because Moroni wrote the promise that he did in the final chapter of the Book of Mormon, and because of many other scriptural passages we have studied regarding personal revelation, we may expect to receive a witness in a certain way. If so, we should do as the Lord invited Oliver to do, to be still and to contemplate the many times that we have inquired of God and have received instruction by the Spirit.

Were there times when we taught by the Spirit and were given the words that we should say? Were there times when we were directed to reach out to someone in need? Were there times when we were comforted and strengthened? Were there times when we received a blessing of peace? Were these not witnesses of truth?

Before my mission I attended a missionary preparation program in my stake, and my older brother was one of the teachers. I can recall my brother telling us in class one day that he had prayed for many months to receive a witness from the Spirit regarding the truth of the Book of Mormon, yet it seemed that he never received an answer to his prayers. However, one day he realized that he already knew the Book of Mormon was true and that he had been seeking a witness that he had already received.

So let us be still -- “We hear Jesus Christ better when we are still,” said President Russell M. Nelson -- and contemplate the experiences we have had, either while on a mission or not, with the Holy Ghost. We may find that we have already received witnesses, and this realization, given to us by the Spirit, will be yet one more witness.

Let us follow the counsel given by Boyd K. Packer to "Go forward without fear. Do not fear the future. Do not fear whatever is ahead of you. Take hold of that supernal gift of the Holy Ghost. Learn to be taught by it. Learn to call upon it. Learn to live by it. And the Spirit of the Lord will attend you. You will be blessed as it was intended that we should all be blessed with this supernal gift of the Holy Ghost."

President Russell M. Nelson has suggested that this has become ever more important in these latter days. "I plead with you," he said, "to increase your spiritual capacity to receive revelation. Choose to do the spiritual work required to enjoy the gift of the Holy Ghost and hear the voice of the Spirit more frequently and more clearly."

"I Know": Gaining A Conviction of Gospel Truth

Boyd K. Packer was called to be president of the New England States Mission while he was serving as an Assistant to the Twelve.  In a book published in 1975, President Packer reflected on an experience he had as a mission president.  He found that his mission was not progressing as it should have been, but he could not immediately discover the solution.  The answer came during the testimony session of a zone conference when a particular elder stood to bear his testimony.

"The testimonies we'd heard from all the other missionaries," wrote then-Elder Packer, "went something like this: 'I'm grateful to be in the mission field.  I've learned a lot from it.  I have a fine companion.  I've learned a lot from him.  I'm grateful for my parents.  We had an interesting experience last week.  We were out knocking on doors and. . . .'  Then the missionary would relate an experience.  His conclusion would be something  like this: 'I'm grateful to be in the mission field.  I have a testimony of the gospel.'  And he would conclude 'in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.'

"This young elder was different somehow.  Anxious not to spend an extra second on his feet, he said simply, in hurried, frightened words, 'I know that God lives.  I know that Jesus is the Christ.  I know that we have a prophet of God leading the Church.  In the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.'

"This was a testimony.  It was not just an experience nor an expression of gratitude.  It was a declaration, a witness!

"Most of the elders had said 'I have a testimony,' but they had not declared it.  This young elder had, in a very few words, delivered his testimony -- direct, basic, and, as it turned out, powerful.

"I knew then what was wrong in the mission.  We were telling stories, expressing gratitude, admitting that we had testimonies, but we were not bearing them."

Note the clear difference between saying that you have a testimony and actually bearing your testimony.  Note, also, the difference between a "thankimony" and a testimony.

During one Fast and Testimony meeting some years ago, I heard several "thankimonies" which seemed to say "I have a testimony because of this blessing or that blessing."  I stood up to bear my testimony and said that I did not have a testimony because I had a great job, or a nice house, or a wonderful wife -- though I do have a wonderful wife.  Rather, I had a testimony because I had received a witness from God, a witness of the Spirit.  What greater witness can we have than a witness from God?

It is acceptable, when bearing testimony, to express gratitude or to tell a faith promoting story, but we should remember that doing these things is secondary to bearing testimony.  The primary purpose of bearing testimony is to declare what we know.  As we read in True to the Faith: A Gospel Reference, "Your testimony will be most powerful when it is expressed as a brief, heartfelt conviction about the Savior, His teachings, and the Restoration.  Pray for guidance, and the Spirit will help you know how to express the feelings in your heart."

The importance of bearing testimony in missionary work cannot be overstated.  "Personal testimony," said President Gordon B. Hinckley, "is the factor which turns people around in their living as they come into this Church."

President Hinckley also said that "[Testimony] is something that cannot be refuted.  Opponents may quote scripture and argue doctrine endlessly.  They can be clever and persuasive.  But when one says, 'I know,' there can be no further argument.  There may not be acceptance, but who can refute or deny the quiet voice of the inner soul speaking with personal conviction?"

While a testimony cannot be refuted, and cannot be taken away from the person who bore it, that doesn't stop people from trying.  If people do not want to believe, then they will find a reason not to; if they do not want to accept a testimony, then they won't.  But their actions cannot refute a witness from God and a testimony is always worth repeating.

I know that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, the Holy Messiah.  I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.  I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that Russell M. Nelson is a prophet.

"Thy Timing Be Done"

We read in Preach My Gospel that, "A testimony is a spiritual witness and assurance given by the Holy Ghost.  To bear testimony is to give a simple, direct declaration of belief -- a feeling, an assurance, a conviction of gospel truth.  Sharing your testimony often is one of the most powerful ways of inviting the Spirit and helping others feel the Spirit.  It adds a current personal witness to the truths you have taught from the scriptures.  An effective missionary teaches, testifies, and invites others to do things that build faith in Jesus Christ.  This includes making promises that come from living true principles."

Of course, before you can share your testimony, you have to have a testimony to share.  When I left on my mission I thought I had a testimony; I had read the Book of Mormon twice and had seen my faith increase, and I had felt the Spirit testifying that what I was reading was true.  But a few months into my mission I started to feel that my testimony was at best inadequate.  So one night I prayed to know if the church was true, and I have to confess that I did not have much patience.  When I did not receive an immediate answer I worried that, in fact, the church might not be true.

Elder Dalin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve has taught about the timing of inspiration from God: "We should recognize that the Lord will speak to us through the Spirit in his own time and in his own way.  Many people do not understand this principle.  They believe that when they are ready and when it suits their convenience, they can call upon the Lord and he will immediately respond, even in the precise way they have prescribed.  Revelation does not come that way."

Elder Neal A. Maxwell, who was a member of the Twelve, echoed this principle: "Since the Lord wants a people 'tried in all things' (D&C 136:31), how, specifically, will we be tried?  He tells us, I will try the faith and the patience of my people (see Mosiah 23:21).  Since faith in the timing of the Lord may be tried, let us learn to say not only, 'Thy will be done,' but patiently also, 'Thy timing be done.'"

When I worried that the church might not be true, because I had not received an immediate witness from the Spirit, I started arguing with myself.  I had wanted the church to be true, "Oh, why couldn't it be true?"  But then, "No, you know it is true?"  When the Lord, I think, was satisfied with my sincerity, I was prompted to ask again, and when I did I finally received the witness from the spirit that I had been seeking.  While it worked out for me in the end, testimony seekers probably shouldn't follow my example.

Rather, individuals who don't have a testimony, should follow the same formula or pattern that they will ask their investigators to follow.  Missionaries invite investigators to follow the guidelines given by Moroni in the last chapter of the Book of Mormon:

"Behold, I would exhort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them, that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been unto the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts.

"And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.

"And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things."  (Moroni 10:3-5)

Missionaries ask their investigators to read and pray about the Book of Mormon; testimony seekers should do the same.  With investigators, missionaries hope this process will unfold in a matter of weeks -- the time it takes to teach five discussions and for the investigator to attend church the required number of times.  For others it may take longer, perhaps even several months, perhaps even years -- they can expect their patience to be tried.

For individuals who may feel that they do have a testimony, they should work on strengthening that testimony.  How might they do that? By repeating the same process described above.  They should continue studying the scriptures, resources like Preach My Gospel, True to the Faith, Jesus the Christ, books and conference addresses by general authorities of the church, etc. and seek the guidance of the Spirit through prayer.  As they do this, seeking to know the will of the Lord and then doing it, their faith will increase and their testimony will be strengthened.

Recognizing the Promptings of the Spirit

Before one can receive a witness of the Spirit, teach by the Spirit, or help others recognize spiritual feelings, they must first learn to recognize the promptings of the Spirit.  Boyd K. Packer said, "The voice of the Spirit is described in the scripture as being neither 'loud' nor 'harsh.'  It is 'not a voice of thunder, neither . . . voice of a great tumultuous noise.'  But rather, 'a still voice of perfect mildness, as if it had been a whisper,' and it can 'pierce even to the very soul' and 'cause [the heart] to burn.'  Remember, Elijah found the voice of the Lord was not in the wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but was a still small voice.

"The Spirit does not get our attention by shouting or shaking us with a heavy hand.  Rather it whispers.  It caresses so gently that if we are preoccupied we may not feel it at all.  Occasionally it will press just firmly enough for us to pay heed.  But most of the time, if we do not heed the gentle feeling, the Spirit will withdraw and wait until we come seeking and listening and say in our manner and expression, like Samuel of ancient times, 'Speak [Lord], for they servant heareth.'"

Promptings of the Spirit have often been described as a "burning in the bosom," yet President Dalin H. Oaks had this to say: "What does a 'burning in the bosom' mean?  Does it need to be a feeling of caloric heat, like the burning produced by combustion?  If that is the meaning, I have never had a burning in the bosom.  Surely, the word 'burning' in this scripture signifies a feeling of comfort and serenity.  That is the witness many receive.  That is the way revelation works."

How do we recognize the promptings of the spirit?  To answer the question, Gordon B. Hinckley once read Moroni 7:13, 16-17 and then said, "That's the test, when all is said and done.  Does it persuade one to do good, to rise, to stand tall, to do the right thing, to be kind, to be generous?  Then it is of the Spirit of God. . . .  If it invites to do good, it is of God.  If it inviteth to do evil, it is of the devil. . . .  And if you are doing the right thing and if you are living the right way, you will know in your heart what the Spirit is saying to you."

President Hinckley added that, "You recognize the promptings of the Spirit by the fruits of the Spirit -- that which enlighteneth, that which buildeth up, that which is positive and affirmative and uplifting and leads us to better thoughts and better words and better deeds is of the Spirit of God."

In chapter 4 of Preach My Gospel, we find a table with a list of scriptures which gives ideas on how one might recognize the Spirit and its promptings (pages 96-97).  For example scriptures such as Galatians 5:22-23 suggest that the Spirit gives "feelings of love, joy, peace, patience, meekness, gentleness, faith and hope."  Doctrine and Covenants 8:2-3 says that the Spirit can give us ideas in the mind and feelings in the heart.  The spirit can enlighten the mind, according to Alma 32:28 and other scriptures.  The table is worth studying so that testimony seekers can learn to recognize the Spirit.

President Howard W. Hunter explained how we can discern different manifestations of the Spirit: "I get concerned when it appears that strong emotion or free-flowing tears are equated with the presence of the Spirit.  Certainly the Spirit of the Lord can bring strong emotional feelings, including tears, but that outward manifestation ought not to be confused with the presence of the Spirit itself.

"I have watched a great many of my brethren over the years and we have shared some rare and unspeakable spiritual experiences together.  Those experiences have all been different, each special in its own way, and such sacred moments may or may not be accompanied by tears.  Very often they are, but sometimes they are accompanied by total silence.  Other times they are accompanied by joy.  Always they are accompanied by a great manifestation of the truth, of revelation to the heart. . . .

"Listen for the truth, hearken to the doctrine, and let the manifestation of the Spirit come as it may in all of its many and varied forms.  Stay with solid principles; teach from a pure heart.  The the Spirit will penetrate your mind and heart and every mind and heart of your students."

Not only can there be difference manifestations of the Spirit for different situations, but also for different people.  The way the Spirit manifests itself to one person is often different from how the Spirit manifests itself to another.  We are all individuals and the way the Spirit manifests itself to us may be unique.  We should learn not just to recognize the Spirit, but also how it manifests itself to us individually and uniquely.

President Russell M. Nelson has said "It has never been more imperative to know how the Spirit speaks to you than right now."

Sources:

Packer, B. K. (1975). Teach Ye Diligently. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book.

(2004). True to the Faith: A Gospel Reference. Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Hinckley, G. B. (1998). "Testimony". Ensign, May 1998.

Missionary Preparation: Student Manual. (2005). Salt Lake City:The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

Preach My Gospel. (2004). Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Teaching, No Greater Call: A Resource Guide for Gospel Teaching.  (1999).  Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

A Witness from the Spirit

The first several month of my mission were a crucible as things were extremely slow in my first area; it was four months before I was able to teach a full first discussion. A couple of days later I was transferred to my second area. At first the work picked up with my new companion, but it soon slowed and we found ourselves going to a members home to watch TV every few days. I was badly discouraged and suffering from a confidence problem.

I had already had some run-ins with folks from other churches who wanted to bash, but what really shook me was when we tracted into a Jehovah’s Witness who did not want to bash.  Instead, this lady used love and sincerity and ended up teaching us instead of the other way around.  After we left her home I found myself wondering how she could be so happy when she did not have the truth while I was so miserable when I did have the truth.

I have long since learned that God accepts all sincere expressions of faith.  Other churches have some truths, and if those truths are enough to make the members of those churches happy, who am I to argue?  As a missionary I only sought to add to the truths that others had, and searched for those who were ready to accept them.

In any case, while I had read The Book of Mormon, by now three times, and had seen my faith increase, and had thought at least that I knew the church to be true, now I was in yet another crisis.  I decided to pray that night and seek a witness from the spirit.  Before going to bed, I re-read Moroni’s Promise.  Then I turned out the light and got down on my knees.

I started with just a normal prayer, but then I stopped and tried to say what was in my heart.  I found it difficult at first, but at length the words did come.  I talked about my confusion and told my Heavenly Father of my desire to know if the Church is true.  Then I asked if the Church was true, and I felt nothing.  I cannot say that I really felt anything at all.  I again explained my desire and the reasons behind it before asking a second time.  “Father, I ask thee in the name of Jesus Christ is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth?"  Again, I felt nothing.

Now I began to plead.  “Father, please,” I said, “I need to know.”  Then I said that I perhaps needed an answer a bit more clear than others might.  I asked a third time, and again I felt nothing.  The tears welled in my eyes as I thought the answer to be no.  Oh, how much I prayed that the Church was true; I wanted it to be so very much and I told my Heavenly Father so.  The tears began to flow and for several minutes, or so it seemed, I could only cry.  Then thoughts began to flood my mind that I had wasted four and a half months there in California; that I had wasted the previous 19 years.  Not knowing what to do I closed my prayer asking for knowledge and then crawled into bed.

The tears continued to flow and I wondered what it was that I should do, for I thought that I was serving a false church.  How could I continue to do so for another eighteen months or so until it was time to go home?  I cried and I cried.  “Why couldn’t it be true?”  But there was something in me that fought back saying, “No Elder Cox, the Church is true, you know it is!”  I guess that it was the desire of wanting the Church to be true, and perhaps my love of the gospel and its message.  The tears continued to flow.  “Oh, why couldn’t it be true?”

Then something whispered to me, “Elder Cox, ask again.”  My desire that the Church be true won out.  I looked to heaven and my heart cried out, “Is the Church true Father, it is true?”  Then it happened, my feelings of pain and sorrow fled and a new feeling of peace entered my heart.  It was a warm feeling, and it was as if someone had lit a match in a darkened room.  The feeling comforted my aching heart; all tears and sorrow melted away.  That small feeling brought such great joy to me and all my burdens disappeared.  My heart cried, “It is true, it is true!  Thank you Father, thank you for answering my prayer.”  As I said this the feeling grew stronger and stronger.

I think that maybe the Lord wanted to test my sincerity and faith.  The Lord did answer my prayers, but it was not an immediate answer.  I asked Him four times if the Church was true, and it was only after the fourth time that I received my answer, and only, I think, because I had expressed such a sincere desire that the Church be true.  I think that sometimes we expect answers to be immediate, and they do not always come so quickly.  Sometimes it takes a while, as well as great sincerity and faith.

I know that the Church is true; that the Book of Mormon is the word of God; that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God; and that President Russell M. Nelson is the Lord’s prophet today.  This does not eliminate the need for faith, for I do not have a perfect knowledge of all things.  But these things I know, because I received a witness by the power of the Holy Ghost in answer to my prayer.

Now I had something rock solid to build on.  I had received a witness from the spirit and what greater witness could I have than from God?  I could say as Joseph Smith did of his vision in the Sacred Grove that I experienced what I had experienced and who am I to withstand God?  I had felt that burning within; I knew it and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it.

Then, a few weeks later, with yet another new companion at my side, something amazing happened.  We tracted into this couple, had a two hour teach and set up a return appointment.  When we went back I saw a tall stack of books by the husband’s chair, and I knew right then that we were in trouble.

After answering all the question and issues they brought up, or at least trying to, I started to bear my testimony.  I related the experience I had just had a few weeks earlier and bore the sweetest and most powerful testimony I could.  The wife got so upset at one point that she almost threw their copy of the Book of Mormon at me.  I think it was because I had said that until they had read the book and prayed about it they could not tell me that it was not true.  They tried to refute my testimony by saying that I had merely convinced myself.  I told the story again and the spirit was so strong it almost consumed me.  After we left, we got into our car to return to our flat.  My companion paused, looked at me and said that I was amazing.

But it wasn’t me, it was the spirit.  As a person of few words, I had been given many words with which to testify of the truth.  My weakness had become strong unto me.  I can still be very quiet, but when talking about a subject I know a lot about, or when bearing testimony, I can find the words, and even more, I can speak with power.  I am not telling you this to brag, for again, at least when I am discussing the gospel and bearing testimony, it is the spirit, and it is because I have tried to humble myself and have faith in Jesus Christ.  I can testify to the truthfulness of Ether 12:27, but not just from my own experience, but because of the transformations I saw in others.

In the months that followed, I had many more powerful experiences with the Spirit. The witness I received that night stood the test of time. Those additional experiences were additional witnesses regarding the truthfulness of the gospel, the church, and the Book of Mormon. Even if I had not had that witness, the many other experiences I had on my mission are still enough. I am still weak, and I often have doubts about myself, but I have no doubts about my testimony. 

Go West: The Great Plains

The strains of travel had long begun to tell on the travelers. Drenched blankets, cold breakfasts after rainy nights, long hours without water, exhaustion from the labor of double-teaming through a swamp or across quicksands or up a slope, from ferrying a swollen river until midnight, from being roused to chase a strayed ox across the prairie two hours before dawn, and from constant shifting of the load to make the going better. Add the ordinary hazards of the day's march like a sick ox, a balky mule, the snapping of a wagon tongue, capsizing at a ford or overturning on a slope, and the endless necessity of helping others who had fallen into the pits which by intelligence or luck others had avoided.

Add the endless apprehension about the stock, the ox which might die, every day's threat that the animals on which your travel depended might by killed by disease or accident or Indians, leaving you stranded in the middle of nowhere. These things worked constantly on the nerves, and even God seemed hostile when a storm piled on.

Even the sunniest grew surly and any pinprick could be a mortal insult. The enforced companionship of the trail began to breed the hatred that is commonplace in the barracks. A fellow traveler's drawl, or even an innocent tic suddenly became intolerable.

Beyond even this, was the strangeness. This was not the pastureland they had known. The very width and openness of the country brought a certain anxiety. It had no bound; the long heave of the continent never found a limit, and in the middle of nowhere the strongest personality diminished. There was no place to hide in, and always there was sun to hide from, further shrinking the cowering soul. Consciousness was reduced to the little line of wagons.

The trail bred a genuine pathology, a true Angst, and proper material for psychiatry to explore. The elements of human personality were under pressure to come undone. There was a drive to phobia or compulsion or fugue or dissociation. Some survived it unchanged or strengthened in their identity; others suffered from it, inflicting it on their families, for the rest of their lives. And it grew as the trip went on. Worse country lay ahead and the drained mind was less able to meet it.

-- 

As the strain began to tell, the emigrants entered the sagebrush and alkali country. Jessy Thornton observed "a remarkable peculiarity in the atmosphere, which made it impossible for me to judge with any tolerable degree of accuracy as to the distance of objects."

The sun and the thin air made distances deceptive. Thornton wrote about the "white efflorescence of salts," but did not mention how it makes a person squint, how it glares like snowfields under the sun, how it glimmers and quivers in the snaky heat waves and fills the plain with lakes that quench no thirst. The sage smelled like turpentine to Thornton; but he might have mentioned its rich, aromatic perfume in the dawn wind, the pungency it gives to campfires, and the tang that grilled meat picks up from it. Mirages flickered across the plain in that terrible sun. They were another strangeness in a country that grew increasingly to look like Hell. On the horizon they thrust up peaks or pinewoods or blue New England ponds, where there were no mountains and no lakes or forests, either.

For some time now the emigrants had been making their fires with Buffalo chips. The children ranged out from the plodding train to collect it in gunnysacks, and it made red coals for cooking in long, shallow pits. Moreover, they were well into the arid country, and for those traveling in 1846, it was drier than usual. The never-ending wind of the plains blew up dust from the wheels in twisting columns that merged and overspread the whole column in a fog and canopy that moved with it. It "filled the lungs, mouth, nose, ears, and hair, and so covered the face that it was sometimes difficult to recognize each other," and "we suffered from this almost insupportable flying sand or dust for weeks if not for months together."

Thornton had neglected to supply himself with goggles which "can be purchased in the United States for thirty-seven and a half cents"; near Independence Rock he would have paid fifty dollars for a pair. The tortured eyes tortured the brain. The immense sun, the endless wind, and the gritty, smothering, inescapable dust reddened and swelled the eyes, granulated the lids, inflamed the sockets.

The excited nerves make horrible shadows and produce illusions of color and shape. The illusions are no less disturbing in that the heat mirage distorts size and pattern so that a healthy eye may see a jack rabbit as a buffalo at a hundred yards or a clump of sage at half a mile as mounted Indians charging. Trachoma was endemic among the Indians, a number of emigrants went blind, and few came through this country without eye trouble of some sort. The medicine chests held solutions of zinc sulphate, which was good, but simple boric would have been better for it was alkali that made the dust corrosive. It was also driven into the skin by the daily wind. Most of the emigrants were burned black; the rest were burned a less comfortable, fiery red; their cheeks peeled and their lips were deeply cracked by what is, after all, simple lye.

The hundredth meridian of west longitude, a geographer's symbol of the true beginning of the West -- meaning the point beyond which the annual rainfall is less than twenty inches -- strikes the Platte near the present town of Cozad, Nebraska, well east of the Forks. The trail up the North Platte moved mainly west or a little north of west to a point opposite the present town of Ogallala, Nebraska, where it took the due northwest bearing it would maintain for hundreds of miles. And between the sites of the present towns of Broadwater and Bridgeport, Nebraska, it struck the Wildcat Range. Here the scattered buttes and bluffs which had been growing common place for a considerable distance became a true badlands.

The scenery was spectacular, but spectacle was only a momentary solace to the emigrants, who had now reached truly tough going -- with cumulative fatigue, anxiety, and mental conflict piling up. In early June, the desert still had the miraculous brief carpeting of flowers that delights travelers to this day, but it was late June when the emigrants got there, a wholly different season, and 1846 was a drought year.

The slow pitch of the continent which they had been climbing toward the ridgepole so slowly that they seldom felt the grade here lost its monotony. The gentle hills that bordered the valley of the Platte, known as the Coast of the Nebraska, suddenly became eroded monstrosities. Jail Rock, Courthouse Rock, Chimney Rock, Scott's Bluff, were individual items in creation's slag heap that had got named, but the whole formation was fantastic. Thornton called it Tadmor of the Desert and sketched a gift-book description of ruined cities, defeated armies, and ancient peoples put to the sword. But then, opposite Chimney Rock, one of his hubs locked for want of grease and he had to interrupt his poetry.

Even such prosy diarists as Joel Palmer and Overton Johnson were startled into rhetoric. The realistic Edwin Bryant saw Scott's Bluff against the green and purple murk of an oncoming storm and wrote phrases like "ruins of some vast city erected by a race of giants, contemporaries of the Megatherii and the Icthyosaurii." Trail marker and future politician and general John C. Fremont composed a resounding passage about "The City of the Desert."

--

The grade was steep now, and once they were in the badlands the trail narrowed and was frequently precipitous. Crazy gullies and canyons cut every which way, and whoever gave up in anger and tried to find better going elsewhere only found worse troubles. The ropes came out and wagons had to be lowered by manpower down a steep pitch or hauled up over the vertical side of a gully or between immense boulders -- while those not working sat and swore in level dust and intolerable sun, far from water.

When they moved, the dry axles added a torturing shriek to the split-reed soprano of the wheels and the scrapes of tires on stone or rubble. Dry air had shrunk the wheels, too, and without warning tires rolled off or spokes pulled out and the wagon stalled. The same brittleness might make a wagon tongue break, which was disastrous unless a spare pole had been slung beneath the bed, and the violent stresses sometimes snapped the metal hounds, the side bars which connected tongue and fore-carriage. Sometimes the ropes broke at a cliff or pulled off the snubbing post, and a wagon crashed. Or crazed oxen capsized one, or defective workmanship or cheap material could stand no more and the thing went to pieces.

Sometimes half a wrecked wagon could be converted by desert blacksmithing into a cart; sometimes a sound wagon had to be converted because some of the oxen had died. In any event, here was where abandoned furniture and other belongings began to litter the trail.

Allocating the abandoned household goods was another stress of desert travel, for something of personality and spiritual heritage died when they had to go. Their owners were in the grip of necessity. The desert beat hammer blows, an overmastering realism, on one's soul, and something permanent came from that forging, the old confirmed forever or the new, frequently the lesser, formed forever.

In the sun and dust they went on, the daily distance shortening and no end to the country ahead. They were not yet to South Pass, not yet halfway to the Pacific! Horses and oxen bloated from foul water; many of them died. Their hooves swelled and festered. Even the soundest grew gaunt as the grass diminished. Sparse along the upper Platte in normal times, it failed quickly in the drought of 1846, and many travelers found it cropped by those who had preceded them up the trail.

Men became as gaunt as their stock, the alkali water being just as bad for them. They saw suddenly that food was limited, and there was an anxious computation of the days ahead, with the itineraries of the guidebooks to be reckoned with. Add to this the altitude which made the nerves tauter. Though the sun was hot and the dust pall breathless, there were suddenly viciously cold days too and all nights were cold. Water froze in the pails -- and the memory recalled how early snow fell in the mountains that were still so far ahead.

Edwin Bryant's mind strained toward California and chafed as the train fell steadily farther behind the schedules printed in the books. He talked it over with some friends and they decided that on reaching Fort Laramie, they would trade their wagons for a mule pack-outfit and press on by this more rapid means.

At Horse Creek the drought was broken by a short, torrential downpour which saturated their outfit and left them to a freezing night. A cold mist hung over the valley the next morning, but they got a fire going and managed coffee and bacon for breakfast. They hurried on up the Platte, narrowed by the badlands, and at about 2:00 that afternoon sighted the first building they had seen since they left Missouri. It was the half-finished trading post maintained by the Richard Brothers, in a loose association with Pratte, Cabanne & Company. Fort Laramie was just six or eight miles away.

--

The American Fur Company's Fort Laramie stood on the flat ground where Laramie Creek empties into the Platte. It was a welcome site for the pioneers -- the first sign of civilization in at least six weeks, and a unique respite from the endless wilderness. Bryant made it 642 miles from Independence, Missouri.

Fort Laramie marked the gateway to the Rocky Mountains. The emigrants were now one-third of the way to Oregon City. (For the Mormons, it was the halfway point to the Salt Lake Valley.) Here, they rested and regrouped. Some would give up the dream, turn around and go home, but most made the decision to push ahead.

The fort had humble beginnings. In 1834, fur trader William Sublette built a wooden fortification here and called it Fort William. There was no emigrant traffic then -- Sublette's goal was trade with the local tribes. He offered alcohol and tobacco in return for buffalo robes.

The fort was soon sold to the American Fur Company, and they rebuilt it as an adobe structure in 1841. The fur trade was in decline by then and fur traders would be gone from Ft. Laramie by 1849, when the army bought them out and embarked on a major expansion.

There was only one building at Fort Laramie that warranted a visit by the Oregon/California-bound emigrants -- the post trader's store. It was the only reliable post office within 300 miles. Supplies could be purchased here, too, although prices were outrageously high. Tobacco, for instance, that could be had for a nickel in St. Louis, cost a dollar here.

Luckily, only a few of the emigrants needed to purchase supplies at Ft. Laramie; most wanted to sell their excess. Their overloaded wagons had become a greater and greater burden, but most held on until Fort Laramie -- in hopes they could earn some money for their extra supplies. But the fort trader wasn't buying.

So here the emigrants underwent wholesale dumping. The Trail near Fort Laramie was littered with heirloom furniture, stoves and food. One emigrant saw ten tons of bacon by the side of the Trail. Despite the temptation, the emigrants did not pick up this valuable litter because weight was the great enemy of their wagon

Source: DeVoto, B. (1943) The Year of Decision: 1846. Little, Brown: Boston.

Go West: Starting Out

Each summer, I think about those men and women who crossed the Great American Desert by wagon train in the 1840s and 1850s. This is the first of a series of threads about the Oregon-California Trail. The primary source is Bernard Devoto's book The Year of Decision, 1846. I was trying to put things into my own words, but if I am honest a lot of what follows might well be excerpts from the book. The story of the men and women who went west in 1846 serves as a prologue to the Mormon pioneers of 1847.

The first "violent shock" for the emigrant going west was Independence, Missouri, the starting point for emigration by wagon train. There were other towns, of course, to challenge Independence for priority in the Western trade. Westport, some ten miles away (and now part of Kansas City), St. Joseph where a few wagon trains left from in 1846, Council Bluffs in Iowa, the departure point for the Mormons, and other towns that would spring up such as Leavenworth, Atchison, and Plattsmouth. But Independence was the traditional "jumping-off place, the beginning alike of New Mexico and Oregon and romance, fully as important in history as it has become in legend."

"Quite properly," wrote Bernard DeVoto in his book Year of Decision, 1846, "a son of Daniel Boone was the first white man to visit it. He named it Eden as was later confirmed by inspiration." He referred, of course, to Joseph Smith declaration that God had revealed Missouri to be the new zion in the western hemisphere. The Mormons ran into plenty of trouble in Independence, and in the rest of Missouri before evacuating to Illinois.

Independence provided a violent shock "of the strangeness which was a primary condition of the emigration. From now on the habits within whose net a man lives would be twisted apart and disrupted, and the most powerful tension of pioneering began here at the jumping-off. Here was a confusion of tongues, a multitude of strange businesses, a horde of strangers -- and beyond was the unknown hazard. For all their exuberance and expectation, doubt of that unknown fermented in the movers and they were already bewildered. They moved gaping from wheelwright's to blacksmith's, from tavern to outfitter's, harassed by drovers and merchants trying to sell them equipment, derided by freighters, oppressed by rumors of Indians and hostile Mormons, oppressed by homesickness, drinking too much forty-rod, forming combinations and breaking them up, fighting a good deal, raging at the rain and spongy earth, most of them depressed, some of them giving up and going ingloriously home."

Independence had built six miles of macadam roads to the Missouri River by 1846, in order to keep up commerce, but had not graded its own streets. It often rained in early May, bogging down wagons to the hubs, and causing people to wade through knee-deep red Missouri clay mud.

Francis Parkman in 1846 found it all to be rather strange. The Mexican language was outlandish to Parkman, the "high Tennessee whine" left him with intense distaste, the nasal Illinoisan, the Missouri cottonmouth drawl, the slurred syllables and the bad grammar, the idioms and slang of "uncouth dialects." The emigrants were loud and rowdy, carelessly dressed, and "unmistakably without breeding. They waited for no introduction before accosting a grandson of a China merchant and his cousin whose triply perfumed name was Quincy Adams Shaw -- slapping them on the back, prying into their lives and intentions. 'How are ye, boys? Are ye headed for Oregon or California?' None of their damned business: would not have been on Beacon Hill and certainly was not since they were coarse, sallow, unkempt, and dressed in homespun, which all too obviously had been tailored for them by their wives. 'New England sends but a small proportion but they are better furnished than the rest,' he wrote in his notebook -- and in his book set down that the movers were 'totally devoid of any sense of delicacy or propriety.' They would not do."

Parkman was from Boston, and in 1846 he traveled west on a hunting expedition, where he spent a number of weeks living with the Sioux tribe. The following year his book The Oregon Trail was published. Parkman is one of several that DeVoto follows in their travels west.

Parkman was perplexed by "this strange migration" and wondered whether it really was just "restlessness" that prompted it. Or was it "a desire of shaking off restraints of law and society," or "an insane hope of a better condition of life." But that is where Parkman's interest in these emigrants stopped. "Manifest Destiny was taking flesh under his eyes," wrote Devoto, "his countrymen were pulling the map into accord with the logic of geography, but they were of the wrong caste and the historian wanted to see some Indians." Parkman could not suffer "the Pukes or the Suckers", so he joined with three Englishmen whom he had met in St. Louis, preparing for a summer on the plains, and who also "wanted no truck with the 'Kentucky fellows.'"

Early May was the time to start the journey, for it was a long one, and certain mountain passes had to be reached before the snows closed them. Mormons could leave later because their Journey was shorter, ending in the valley of the Great Salt Lake. Even those leaving early in May could run into trouble in the mountains, if they took a bad cutoff, such as did the Donner-Reed Party.

--

It was two thousand miles from Independence to Oregon City. Emigrants leaving the several departure places met near Fort Kearny, 325 miles from Independence. When the movement to Oregon began there were no military posts beyond Fort Leavenworth, but in 1848 the Army built For Kearny on the Platte near Grand Island to protect travelers from the Pawnees. The following year the government bought the American Fur Company post of Fort Laramie and sent troops to garrison it and to patrol the trail along the Platte. One farmer noted that the river Platte was too thick to drink and too wet to plow.

On the 335-mile journey from Fort Kearny to Fort Laramie, emigrants saw several prominent landmarks. Many carved their names on Courthouse Rock, Chimney Rock, or Scott's Bluff. They usually rested for a day or two at Fort Laramie to wash clothes and make repairs before heading toward the mountains, where travel was slower and more difficult

Near Independence Rock the trail met and then followed the Sweetwater River. Here the going got rougher. Alkali in the water poisoned the cattle and the river had to be crosses and then recrossed -- occasionally, several times in one day. South Pass was a rather unspectacular place, except that now the streams flowed westward, and the emigrants realized they had crossed the Continental Divide.

It was near Fort Bridger that the Mormons -- and the Donner-Reed Party -- would turn off to head for the Wasatch Mountains and the Great Salt Lake. Near Fort Hall (just north of present day Pocatello, Idaho) the California-bound emigrants left the trail and headed south.

The mountains and valleys of the Snake, Green, and Bear rivers exhausted the teams and caused many of the wagons to break down. Some emigrants used rafts for the last part of the trip down the Columbia River to Oregon City.

In time the Oregon trail developed numerous cutoffs, feeders, and outlets. In many places the trail might be fifteen or twenty miles wide, as wagon trains detoured to avoid the ruts and dust of the wagons ahead of them. In other places deep ruts are still visible today where travel was limited to a single-file route through a mountain pass or a river crossing. Lakes and swamps were skirted, but rivers and steep mountains had to be crossed, and they proved a challenge to the emigrant's courage and ingenuity.

The trip to Oregon by wagon took four or five months. To avoid delays on the trail the welfare of the animals was paramount. As one traveler put it, "Our lives depend on our animals." Forage was the main consideration in selecting camp sites. One emigrant told of staying at places without wood --which meant a cold supper -- if forage and water were available. "Our practice is first to look for a good place for the cattle, and then think of our own convenience." A popular expression of the day was, "Care for your draft animals rather than your men, for men can always take care of themselves."

--

Francis Parkman described the land west of Independence as the Great American Desert. However, at least in May, there was much rain. It buffeted Parkman, the Mormons, the Sante Fe traders, and the emigrants with a violent succession of deluges, thunderstorms, northers, freezes, and heat waves. 1846 would be a drought summer, but it sure didn't start that way.

Oxen might die of heat beside streams made impassable by yesterday's rain, while their owners sniffed with the colds produced by the norther the day before yesterday. Sudden gales blowing out of nowhere flattened the tents, barrages of thunder that lasted for many hours might stampede the stock, and Parkman remarked that his bed was soft for he sank into it. Nevertheless, the life was enchanting at once. It was wild, free and rewarding. Parkman quickly learned the knacks of prairie travel, pitching camp, hitching a pack, finding wood or water, tracking a strayed horse, extricating a cart mired in mud.

June brought routine travel, exciting only as climate. They got through the Pawnee country without the pillage to which their defenselessness exposed them. There was little game at first, but the prairies were populous. They met parties on their way back from the mountains, trappers with furs. Nearly everyday there were companies of emigrants. Parkman still viewed them with distaste, except for one group that came from "one of the least barbarous of the frontier counties" and were "fine looking fellows with an air of frankness, generosity and even courtesy." Soon Parkman would accept the presence of a small band of emigrants who joined his party -- four wagons, ten men, one woman, and a child. The group traveled with or just ahead of them for two weeks, and though Parkman fumed he spent part of the night with one of them on guard duty and found him not too bad.

Good fun, good food, the nightly ritual of camp and fire. The rains ended, though there was a vicious sleet storm in June. Vegetation grew sparse, the land sloped and broke up. Traveling became monotonous but had a pleasant languor. Parkman had some symptoms of illness but did not realize how ominous they were.

By June 10 Parkman and Quincy Shaw had all they could stand of the British. "The folly of Romaine -- the old womanism of the Capt. combine to disgust us," wrote Parkman. So he and Shaw decided to go it alone. They were now at the Lower California Crossing of the Platte. Pretty soon they would find some Indians.

The emigration moved beside Parkman, ahead of him, and behind him. Edwin Bryant left Independence with two companions on May 5. They had hired a sub-mountain-man named Brownell to drive for them, had bought and outfitted an emigrant wagon, and had provided it with three yoke of oxen at $21.67 per span. Jessy Quinn Thornton had been "nominated a colonel, probably because he used such beautiful language," when he left Independence with his wife Nancy and two hired drivers on May 12. He would join the party of Lilburn Bogg's -- who as governor of Missouri almost ten years earlier had signed the extermination order against the Mormons -- and increased the party to 72 wagons, 130 men, 65 women, and 125 children.

Not long after May 15, James Reed and George Donner came up. They had been joined by the populous Breen party. The Reeds were probably the most luxuriously equipped emigrants on the plains that summer, and an undercurrent of resentment had already taken root. One of Reed's wagons was not only outsized, but had been filled with bunks, cushions, a stove, and other contrivances for comfort. Virginia Reed's blooded riding mare was envied. The Donners had three spare yoke of oxen, more milk cows than seemed necessary, some yearlings for beef, and five saddle horses. But they had nothing on J. Baker and David Butterfield who undertook to make the trip with a heard of 140 cattle. After a few days they were required to leave the Bogg party on the formal verdict that so large a herd would be a danger when they reached desert country, but more likely because they refused to butcher their calves.

Thornton, originally from Virginia, would describe those he saw traveling west that year. "The majority were plain, honest, substantial, intelligent, enterprising, and virtuous," he said. "They were indeed much superior to those who usually settle in a new country."

Nearly a century later, DeVoto would conclude that Thornton's judgement was unquestionably correct. "A frontier that could be reached only by eighteen hundred miles of hard travel was not an easy recourse for brush dwellers, squatters, and butcher-knife boys. From the Connecticut and Kenawha on to the Missouri the 'new country' had always offered opportunities to the shiftless and the shifty, but this was different. The migration was drawn from the stable elements of society, if only because the stable alone could afford it. A customary family outfit had a value of from seven to fifteen hundred dollars. The only way in which a really poor man could make the passage was to hire out as a driver or helper. Most trains had a number of such young men (and sometimes, as with the Donners, young women) who were working their passage, but the bulk were, at least in a moderate degree, men of property and therefore substantial citizens. A certain fraction, of course, if not 'squatters' (generically, 'poor whites') were of the butcher-knife type, and the fraction increased as travel cheapened."

The enlarged Bogg party included lawyers, journalists, students, teachers, day laborers, two ministers, a carriage maker, a cabinet maker, a stonemason, a jeweler, a gunsmith, and several blacksmiths. It had Germans, Dutch, French and English, but was native American in the overwhelming majority.

--

The year 1846 was full of rumors. The Kansa -- also spelled Konza or Kanza, also called Kaw -- were supposed to be mobilized beside the trail, waiting to slaughter the emigration -- a degenerate tribe fluent at theft but no longer hardy enough to make trouble. Edwin Bryant heard that a party of five Englishmen were moving down the trail on Her Majesty's business, to incite all Indians between the Missouri and the Pacific "to attack [the] trains, rob, murder, and annihilate them." Other than the Brits Francis Parkman had started his journey with, their was a surprising number of British Army officers out to hunt buffalo or commune with the prairie gods while Oregon and California hung in the balance.

More immediate was the "threat" of the Mormons who were now "loose" beyond the frontier, five or ten or twenty thousand of them, with "ten brass field pieces" and every man "armed with a rifle, a bowie knife, and a brace of large revolving pistols." Their homes had been burned behind them, it seemed likely that they intended slaughter and neither mob nor police could head them off. "No one," Parkman wrote, "could predict what would be the result when large armed bodies of these fanatics would encounter the most impetuous and reckless of their old enemies on the prairie." And there were many Illini and even more Missourians. And there was Lilburn Boggs, their old tormentor.

But while Parkman and Boggs traveled west, the Mormons were stuck in the Iowa mud. Their passage across the Great American Desert would not begin for another year. Still, the emigrants kept their guns primed and their suspicions half cocked.

On May 16, the Boggs party got the last news from the States that they would hear until they reached the Pacific. A horsemen hurrying to catch up with a train ahead of them brought a copy of of the St. Louis Republican containing word of hostilities in Mexico. They next day, Mr. Webb, the editor of an Independence newspaper, rode into camp to confirm the story. On the Rio Grande a Captain Thornton of the Dragoons had been attacked and his command had been captured. The situation of Zachary Taylor was said to be extremely perilous. Excitement stirred among those bound for California, but Bryant noted that no one thought of giving up the emigration.

The emigrants were greenhorns: what the West came to call tenderfeet. Most of them were schooled in the culture that had served American pioneering up to now. But the Oregon and California emigrants had a much harder time of it than they would have if they had understood the conditions. They experienced hardships, disease, great strain, and aimless suffering of which the greater part was quite unnecessary. The mountain men had avoided it almost altogether. They had learned to live off the land, finding grass or water, managing the stock, making camp, reading buffalo sign and Indian sign. These things were a mystery to the emigrants who, tired at the end of they day, were prone to let someone else do the needful tasks. So their wagons were not kept up, horses and oxen strayed, and many hours, counting up to many days, were squandered. This added to the delay, something they could ill afford.

The passage needed to be made with the greatest possible speed in harmony with the good condition of the animals -- but the emigrants dallied, strolling afield to fish or see the country, stopping to stage a debate or a fist fight, or just wandering like vacationers. It was necessary to press forward, not only because the hardest going of the whole journey was toward the western end and would be far worse if they did not pass the mountains before the snow came, but also because every day diminished the food in the wagons, wore down the oxen by so much more and laid a further increment of strain on man and beast.

As expert as they might have been at healthy living back east, they did not know how to take care of themselves on the trail. From the first days on, the emigrants were preyed upon by colds, malaria, and dysentery, and it was their own fault. All this had its part in the stresses of emigration.

--

The Boggs party, with the Donner-Reeds and the Bryants, moved along the Oregon Trail. But the movement, argued Devoto, "must not be thought of as the orderly, almost military procession of spaced wagons in spaced platoons that Hollywood shows us, and the trail must not be thought of as a fixed avenue through the wilds. The better discipline of the freight caravans on the Sante Fe Trail did impose a military order of march. On the southern trail wagons moved in something like order; in single file where the route was narrow, in columns of twos or fours when there was room for such a formation and it was needed for quick formation of the corral in case of Indian attack. Every night they were parked in a square or circle, the stock was driven inside after feeding, guard duty was enforced on everyone in his turn. Wagons which had led a file on one day (and so escaped the dust) dropped back to the end on the next day and worked their way up again. Regular messes were appointed, with specified duties for everyone. Wood, water, herding, hunting, cooking, and all the routine of travel and camp were systematized and the system was enforced. But that was the profit motive; men with an eye on business returns managed it. And they had no problems of family travel and few of cliques.

"Every emigrant train that ever left the settlements expected to conduct itself according to this tested system," continued DeVoto. "None except the Mormons ever did. Brigham Young had a disciplined people and the considerable advantage that his orders rested on the authority of Almighty God [DeVoto was born and raised in Ogden, Utah, but was not a member of the LDS Church] -- and even so, among a submissive and believing people on the march, he had constantly to deal with quarrels, dissensions, rebellions, complaints, and ineffectiveness. Among the emigrants there was no such authority as God's or Brigham's. A captain who wanted to camp here rather than there had to make his point by parliamentary procedure and the art of oratory. It remained the precious right of a free American who could always quit his job if he didn't like his boss, to camp somewhere else at his whim or pleasure -- and to establish his priority with is fists if some other freeborn American happened to like the cottonwood where he had parked his wagon.

"Moreover, why should anyone take his appointed dust when he could turn off the trail? Why should he stand guard on the herd of loose cattle, if he had no cattle in it? . . . They combined readily but with little cohesiveness and subdued themselves to the necessities of travel only after disasters had schooled them. They strung out along the trail aimlessly, at senseless intervals and over as wide a space as the country permitted. So they traveled fewer miles in any day than they might have, traveled them with greater difficulty than they needed to, and wore themselves and the stock down more than was wise. They formed the corral badly, with too great labor and loss of time, or not at all. They quarreled over place and precedence that did not matter. They postponed decisions in order to debate and air the minority view, when they should have accepted any decision that could be acted on. Ready enough to help one another through any emergency or difficulty, they were unwilling to discipline themselves to an orderly and sensible routine."

Kit Collings, in a chapter on the Oregon Trail, which was part of a book titled Pioneer Trails West published in 1985, wrote about the importance of guidebooks.

"For a nation unaware of the difficulties of the trip," said Collings, "these guidebooks were extremely helpful." That is, when they were consistently consulted. As one emigrant recalled:

"All went smoothly until we crossed Bear River Mountains, when feeling some confidence in our own judgement, we had grown somewhat careless about consulting our handbook, often selecting our camp without reference to it. One of these camps we had good reason to remember. I had gone ahead to find a camp for noon, which I did on a pretty stream with abundance of grass for our horses and cattle, which greatly surprised us, as grass had been such a scarce article in many of our camps.

"Soon after dinner we noticed some of our cattle began to lag, and seem tired, and others began to vomit. We realized with horror that our cattle had been poisoned, so we camped at the first stream we came to, which was Ham's Fork of Bear Creek River, to cure if possible our poor, sick cattle. Here we were 80 miles from Salt Lake, the nearest settlement, in such a dilemma. We looked about for relief. Bacon and grease were the only antidotes for poison that our stores contained, so we cut slices of bacon and forced it down the throats of the sick oxen, who after once tasting the bacon ate it eagerly, thereby saving their lives, as those that did not eat died the next day. The cows we could spare better than the oxen. None of our horses were sick. Had we consulted our guide book before, instead of after camping at that pretty spot, we would have been spared all this trouble, as it warned travelers of the poison existing here."

There was very little known and much misinformation about the land west of the Missouri, for only crude and inaccurate maps were available. During the 1840s a few guidebooks appeared, written by men who had already made the trip. Some books drew on the writings of explorers and others, since the writer obviously could not have traveled over all the trails described.

The weather was a problem as it changed from year to year. A recommended route might be flooded the next year, and waterless stretches were even longer during dry years. The quality and quantity of grass depended on the moisture available, as well as the number of people using the trail.

Not everything written or said about the trails could be trusted. In 1846, Lansford Hastings arrived at Fort Laramie from the west and talked about a time saving cutoff for the trip to California. He then left word that he would be at Fort Bridger waiting for any party wishing to take his route. The Donner-Reed party expressed interest in Hasting's cutoff, but he had left with another party by they time they reached Jim Bridger's fort. In what would be a fateful decision, the Donner-Reeds elected to take the new route on their own.

Member Missionaries, Ministers or Culture Warriors?

Nephi, the son of Helaman, was praying on a tower in his garden one day when a crowd gathered. When he was finished with his prayer, he stood and began to preach to the people. As he preached, Nephi prophesied of a conspiracy to kill the chief judge, and messengers were sent to confirm that the political leader had been killed. But then the story takes an interesting turn.

Because Nephi prophesied of the chief judge's murder, he was arrested and accused of being part of the conspiracy. He then prophesied what would happen when the real murderer was confronted, and was eventually set free.

What does Nephi do at that point? He returns to preaching repentance and baptism. Later he prayed that the people would be afflicted by a famine instead of by a war.

We live in a period of time abounding with conspiracy theories, but here we read of a very real conspiracy with political intrigue and murder. Secret combinations have and do exist, nonetheless, I am a skeptic when it comes to conspiracy theories -- most of which are downright ridiculous.

But let's set that aside. Whether we believe in some or all of the conspiracy theories floating around, the real question is what we should do. Even if we don't believe in a conspiracy, we nonetheless find ourselves in a time when political discourse has broken down. We are also, in the United States of America, experiencing another contentious election.

Let us return to the City of Zarahemla for a moment. As noted, after being released from custody, Nephi returned to preaching the gospel. In fact, on his walk home he heard the voice of God:

"Blessed art thou, Nephi, for those things which thou hast done; for I have beheld how thou hast with unwearyingness declared the word, which I have given unto thee, unto this people.  And thou hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will and to keep my commandments.  And now, because thou hast done this with such unwearyingness, behold, I will bless thee forever; and I will make thee mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works; yea, even that all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word, for thou shalt not ask that which is contrary to my will" (Helaman 10: 4-5).

We, too, have been commanded to spread the gospel, either as full time missionaries or as member missionaries. We may also have other callings which allow us to participate in furthering the three missions of the Church -- preaching the gospel, perfecting the saints and redeeming the dead. At the very least we may be assigned families to minister to. Following Nephi's example, this is probably where our efforts should be directed.

Marion G. Romney taught in 1944 that "When we pray unto the Father in the name of Jesus for specific personal things, we should feel in the very depths of our souls that we are willing to subject our petitions to the will of our Father in heaven. . . . The time will come when we shall know the will of God before we ask. Then everything for which we pray will be 'expedient.' Everything for which we ask will be 'right.' That will be when as a result of righteous living, we shall so enjoy the companionship of the spirit that he will dictate what we ask" (Conference Report, Oct. 1944, 55-56).

Forty-four years later, Neal A. Maxwell invited us to look at ourselves. "For the Church, the scriptures suggest both an accelerated sifting and accelerated spiritual numerical growth -- with all of this preceding the time when the people of God will be 'armed with righteousness' -- not weapons -- and when the Lord's glory will be poured out upon them. The Lord is determined to have a tried, pure and proven people, and 'there is nothing that the Lord thy God shall take in his heart to do but what he will do it'" (Conference Report, Apr. 1988, 8).

As Joseph Smith put it, “The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; … the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done.”

"Some work through political, social, and legal channels to redefine morality," noted Boyd K. Packer in October 2003. "But they never can change the design which has governed human life and happiness from the beginning."

I read a social media post not long ago which quoted Ezra Taft Benson and a book titled None Dare Call it Treason. This particular post suggested that people are afraid to fight out of fear of being judged.

But we are not called by God to fight in the culture wars; rather we are called to preach or spread the gospel, to minister and perfect the saints, and to do family history and temple work to redeem the dead. While we should participate in political processes, which we should do as informed voters, God does not need us to become culture warriors, that is not our mission.

"Church members have a special rendezvous to keep," taught Neal A. Maxwell in 1991. "Nephi [son of Lehi] saw it. One future day, he said, Jesus's covenant people, 'scattered upon all the face of the earth,' will be 'armed with righteousness and with the power of God in great glory.' This will happen, but only after more members become more saintly and more consecrated in conduct" (Conference Report, Oct. 1991, 43).

When we read or share quotes from President Benson regarding the dangers of Communism, we should remember that he also said, "Only the gospel will save the world from the calamity of its own self-destruction. Only the gospel will unite men of all races and nationalities in peace. Only the gospel will bring joy, happiness, and salvation to the human family."

Politics have always been rough and tumble, prompting Harry S. Truman to suggest that those who cannot handle the heat should get out of the kitchen. Fighting in the cultural wars of the 21st century suggests full on participation in contentious debate; sharing memes (photos with words) and cheap digs. The culture wars are all about bashing.

"This popular behavior is indulged in by far too many who bash a neighbor, a family member, a public servant, a community, a country, a church," said Elder Marvin J. Ashton in April 1992.  "Some think the only way to get even, to get advantage, or to win is to bash people. Often times character and reputation and almost always self-esteem are destroyed under the hammer of this vicious practice. How far adrift we have allowed ourselves to go from the simple proverb 'If you can't say something good about someone or something, don't say anything' to where we now are often involved in the bash business."

Contention and bashing are not compatible with the gospel of Jesus Christ -- which we are called to spread.

"For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and he stirreth up the hearts of men to contend with anger, one with another. Behold, this is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger, one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away" (3 Nephi 11: 29-30).

Can we, therefore, spread the gospel and fight the culture wars at the same time? We may be tempted to put some of our principles aside in order to fight for other principles we deem to be of vital urgency. A number of years ago, Jeffrey R. Holland spoke of this idea of setting principle aside, but in the context of a sporting event, where one player was the target of vitriolic abuse pouring from the stands.

"The day after that game," said Elder Holland in 2012, "when there was some public reckoning and a call to repentance over the incident, one young man said, in effect: 'Listen. We are talking about basketball here, not Sunday School. If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. We pay good money to see these games. We can act the way we want. We check our religion at the door.'

"'We check our religion at the door'? Lesson number one for the establishment of Zion in the 21st century: You never 'check your religion at the door.' Not ever.

"My young friends, that kind of discipleship cannot be -- it is not discipleship at all. As the prophet Alma has taught the young women of the Church to declare every week in their Young Women theme, we are 'to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in,' not just some of the time, in a few places, or when our team has a big lead."

We cannot set principles aside, or check our religion at the door, in order to participate in the contentious debates and the bashing of the culture wars. We cannot set principle aside, even if only temporarily, and then pick them up in order to spread the gospel. We cannot check our religion at the door on occasion while becoming more saintly and more consecrated in conduct. We cannot be armed with righteousness while using our tongues (keyboards, smart phones, etc.) as swords.

As David A. Bednar taught in 2006, "The Spirit of the Lord usually communicates with us in ways that are quiet, delicate, and subtle. . . . The standard is clear. If something we think, see, hear or do distances us from the Holy Ghost, then we should stop thinking, seeing, hearing, or doing that thing."

Elder Bednar used entertainment as an example. "If that which is intended to entertain . . . alienates us from the Holy Spirit, then certainly that type of entertainment is not for us. Because the spirit cannot abide that which is vulgar, crude, or immodest, then clearly such things are not for us. Because we estrange the Spirit of the Lord when we engage in activities we know we should shun, then such things definitely are not for us" (Conference Report, Apr. 2006, 29-30).

Participating in the contention and bashing of the culture wars can estrange us from the Holy Spirit. Being estranged we will not become more saintly and more consecrated in conduct, and we will not be armed with righteousness.

As I conclude, let me be clear. We are counseled to participate in the political processes of our communities; we are encouraged to be informed and to vote our consciences. But we can do that in ways that will not estrange us from the Holy Ghost. We can contribute positively to discourse; we can do research and create content that influences rather than antagonizes; and we can transcend the bitterness of the culture wars. We can participate in politics in ways that will allow us to get closer to the Holy Spirit and become more saintly, that we may be armed in righteousness as we spread the gospel.