The Work and the Glory (134 page)

“My, my,” he breathed. “What does this Mr. Patrick do for a living?”

The preacher gave the home an appraising look, then turned to the two missionaries. “Mr. Patrick holds an important office in the government. But he’s a silver spoon. Born to money, he was. A real aristocrat. But he’s a kind gentleman, a fine Christian.”

“Then we care not what else he may be,” Parley said magnanimously.

“Does your study group meet here all the time?” Nathan asked.

“No, but often. As you’ll see, he has a room large enough for all of us to be together.”

Nathan moved closer to Parley. “I feel like a bumpkin coming to the palace to see the king,” he whispered.

Parley laughed softly, looking down at the plainness of their clothes. “Perhaps they’ll put us in the servants’ quarters.” Then more earnestly he added, “I feel this is the reason we have come to Canada, Nathan. Let us go in and observe and see what shall develop.”

As they moved up on the large front porch, the front door was standing open, so they went right in without waiting for someone to invite them. Nathan saw immediately that this was a house more finely furnished and tastefully decorated than anything that existed in Kirtland. As they walked down the short entry hall and into a large sitting room, Nathan felt more and more keenly that they were going to be misfits. Extra chairs and small benches had been brought in and there was seating for thirty or forty people. A well-dressed man was standing near a small cherry wood table on which lay several Bibles. He turned as they came into the room. “Welcome.”

“Good afternoon, Brother Jackson,” the preacher said. “May I present two men who wish to join with us this evening. This is Mr. Parley Pratt and Mr. Nathan Steed.”

As the man shook their hands, Nathan gave their companion a quick look, a little surprised that he did not say more about who they were and where they were from. But Mr. Jackson seemed not at all surprised at the thought of new guests. “Mr. Patrick is over with some of the others, but I’m sure he would bid you warm welcome.” His hand reached out and touched a Bible. “We hope you find our little study group to be an uplifting experience. I don’t know if you were told, but our purpose is to study the Bible and find out God’s will for us.” He glanced down at their empty hands. “Would you like a Bible? It’s a rare night when we are not in the scriptures.”

“Indeed,” Parley said. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

They moved to four places near the back of the room. Nathan began to feel a little better as he watched the people come in. Some were obviously from the upper classes, but many were simply dressed and looked like farmers or laborers. Most carried Bibles, but some—like him and Parley—were given books by Mr. Jackson. Suddenly Nathan’s head came up. “Look, there’s Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” The couple they had first met when they came to Toronto was just coming into the room. “And the Widow Walton.”

“But of course,” their friend explained. “I thought you knew. They are part of our group as well.”

The Taylors and Mrs. Walton spotted them. John Taylor raised one eyebrow, but smiled pleasantly and raised a hand in greeting. As they found their seats, the man who was obviously hosting the meeting moved to the front of the room. Mr. Jackson sat down. “The hour has arrived,” Mr. Patrick said without preamble. “It is time to begin. We’ll ask Mrs. Patrick to lead us in a hymn. Then Mr. Sharp will invoke the Lord’s blessings and we shall begin.”

As they sang the hymn, without accompaniment, Nathan felt his fears start to calm. There was a solemn but pleasant spirit about the group. They were obviously a God-fearing people, and he was impressed with their desire to study the scriptures and know what God would have them do. Like Parley, he had a strong feeling they had finally found their purpose in coming to Canada.

To his surprise, when the prayer was finished Mr. Patrick stood only briefly. “As you know, this is not a formal worship service, and we have no prepared sermons delivered. This is a study group. Anyone is at liberty to introduce a subject of his or her choosing for our discussion. We have invited the Spirit to be present. May we incline our hearts toward God so that it may be.” And with that, he sat down.

For several moments no one spoke. Nathan gave Parley a sidelong look, half expecting him to seize such a ripe opportunity; but true to his word, Parley did not stir. Then, to Nathan’s surprise, John Taylor did. For a moment Mr. Taylor looked around, seeing if there was anyone else who wished to speak. When it was obvious there was not, he stood. He already had his Bible open in the palm of one hand. He looked down at it for a moment, then up at the group.

“I should like to discuss a text from the eighth chapter of the book of Acts,” he said in a measured and dignified voice. “It is the story of Philip and his ministry in Samaria.”

Instantly there was a noticeable rustling sound as people opened their scriptures and began turning pages. Nathan quickly found the “Acts of the Apostles” and flipped over to the eighth chapter.

Taylor led them through it slowly, reading with great solemnity, his voice rising to emphasize certain points. Philip went to Samaria and there began a remarkable ministry, preaching Christ unto the people. And the people gave heed to him with one accord. Great spiritual power was shown. Unclean spirits were cast out, the sick healed, the lame made to walk. Many were baptized, but Philip could not give the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Now Taylor began to read more slowly, pausing to look around at the group after points he felt were important that they not miss. “ ‘Now when the apostles which were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John—’ ” He looked around. “Remember, now, that Peter and John are of the Twelve.” Down went his eyes again. “‘—who, when they were come down, prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Ghost: (for as yet he was fallen upon none of them: only they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus). Then laid they their hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost.’ ”

Mr. Taylor closed the book and let his eyes run across the upturned faces. No one stirred. There was not a sound in the room. “Where is our Philip?” he suddenly demanded.

There was a ripple of surprise.

He held up the Bible and waved it at them. “We have had the gospel of Jesus Christ preached to us. Do we believe?”

“We do!” someone murmured fervently. “Amen,” said another.

He was very somber now. “So where is
our
receiving the word with joy and being baptized? The Samaritans were given spiritual gifts. Where are
our
spiritual gifts? Where are
our
Peter and John?”

Nathan had turned to Parley and was staring at him wide-eyed. Parley nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to watch John Taylor.

“Where are
our
Apostles? Who shall come and give
us
the gift of the Holy Ghost?”

Nathan wanted to leap to his feet, pound Parley on the back, and say, “Here is an Apostle of the Lord, right here in your midst.” But Parley seemed unaffected. Twice more Nathan shot him querying looks, but the first time he just smiled and shook his head slightly. The second time he patted Nathan’s knee, gently reminding him to be patient.

“In the New Testament, we find the Church as Jesus himself organized it,” Taylor continued. Now his face was grave, his eyes troubled. “Are we not safe in looking to what the Church was like then as a model on which to base our own worship?”

“Hear, hear!” a man behind Nathan said loudly.

Encouraged by that response, John Taylor pointed at the Bible. “Yet look at the pattern we find, and where is its equal? We do not have the ordinances and the ministry as described here. It says that when the Samaritans believed and received the word with joy, then they were baptized. We, for the most part, were sprinkled in our infancy, but this was not baptism as we find it in the New Testament. And if it was, we neither believed in it nor rejoiced in it at the time, because we were infants.

“Again, looking to this as our pattern, it says Peter and John were commissioned as Apostles, and therefore they could administer the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands, a gift of such supernal worth that Simon the Sorcerer tried to purchase it from them. Do we have men who hold such a commission? No. We have ministers commissioned by the King and Parliament of England, or by John Wesley and his successors, without any pretence of a word from the Lord or his angels to commission them.”

Nathan felt a little lightheaded. Was it just him? It was as if he or Parley had written out the things that John Taylor was saying in order to set the group up to hear their message. He saw Mrs. Walton watching them. She was smiling broadly. He looked at Parley and saw the wonder in his eyes too.

“And here is a third thing in the pattern that I find troubling,” Taylor said, jabbing at his Bible with one finger. “The Samaritans had spiritual gifts. It says that unclean spirits were cast out, that the sick were healed. And this is a pattern not just in this chapter but throughout the New Testament. Before his ascension, Jesus said, ‘These signs shall follow them that believe—in my name you shall cast out devils, and heal the sick, and speak in tongues.’ And this is exactly what we find in the Bible. Peter and John healed a man lame from his mother’s womb. On the day of Pentecost, the Apostles all spoke in tongues. They cast out evil spirits, healed those who were infirm. And that is not all. Everywhere in the New Testament they enjoyed the ministering of angels. Peter was delivered from prison by an angel. The women at the tomb were greeted by angels. When Jesus ascended to heaven from the Mount of Olives, two angels were standing by.”

He stopped and looked around, a little out of breath, his gaze full of challenge. “Where are our angels? Where are our spiritual gifts, my good friends?”

He waited, but no one spoke or moved. “I’ll tell you where. Nowhere. We have none. We claim none! And so I ask again, If we in our churches today vary in every respect from the pattern and model given here in this book”—he held up the Bible and shook it at them—“then how can we, or any Christian church, be considered the Church of Christ? We do not have even a shadow of anything according to this pattern. We cannot boast of even an approach to a base resemblance or counterfeit.”

His voice dropped, and he looked suddenly weary. “What say ye to this, my brethren and sisters? This is what I would propose be the topic of our discussion.” He paused for one more moment, then sat down.

The silence lasted for only a moment, then the group erupted in a babble of voices. Mr. Patrick stood again. The noise gradually died once more. “My friends, our good brother Mr. John Taylor has raised some very thoughtful and thought-provoking questions. Let us discuss them in a proper fashion. Raise your hand if you wish to speak.”

Instantly a woman’s hand went up. “I agree with Brother Taylor,” she said when Patrick nodded in her direction, “but those principles of which he speaks are lost. It is pointless to look for them again, for they are gone.”

The man beside her, probably her husband, Nathan surmised, shook his head. “If God gave them to his people once, he can do so again. I think as a group we need to pray earnestly to God, ask that the heavens be opened again and men commissioned by a new revelation.”

Nathan started to raise his hand, but Parley reached out quickly and caught his arm. He shook his head slightly. Nathan was baffled. Never had he seen Parley so reticent, especially when the opportunity was so ripe.

The discussion went on for nearly an hour. There were many insights given, but the group could come to no agreement. At that point, one of the men who had been at the meetings at Mrs. Walton’s house raised his hand. Mr. Patrick nodded at him.

“Mr. Chairman, we have a stranger from the States in our midst. A Mr. Pratt. Perhaps he would like to speak to the subject under discussion.”

At last!
Nathan could have jumped up and kissed the man on both cheeks.

“I was not aware of any strangers among us,” Patrick said quickly, “but he is at liberty to make such remarks as he chooses, as are all in our group.” He looked around. “Mr. Pratt?”

Parley rose slowly. Every eye in the room turned toward him. Some of those who had been present at the meetings held in the Walton home were nodding their approval. But once again, Parley Pratt totally sidestepped what Nathan expected.

“Mr. Chairman, thank you for that kind invitation. I am indeed a stranger from America, as is my companion, Mr. Steed. But we are not strangers to the great principles that have been under consideration here. I am prepared to speak on the subject at hand, but I feel the afternoon has been well spent, and all have been edified. Perhaps it would be best if we waited until another time.”

Mr. Patrick nodded. He looked pleased that this American was considerate enough of the time not to push himself forward. “We shall be meeting again this evening, Mr. Pratt. Would that be sufficient time for you to prepare?”

“It would indeed, sir,” Parley boomed cheerfully. “I would consider it a privilege.”

“Then let us pray now and adjourn until seven p.m. this evening.” He bowed his head, and all in the room followed suit. “O Lord,” he said with great solemnity, “we have neither Apostles, visions, angels, revelations, gifts, tongues, ordinances, nor a Christian ministry. We acknowledge that we are destitute of everything like the pattern of the true Church, as laid down in thy holy word. And we pray thee to send whom thou wilt to help us. Amen.”

Solemn amens echoed throughout the room, and then as people stood and began to break up the meeting, Nathan turned to Parley, who was grinning like a little boy. “I told you, Nathan,” he crowed softly. “You just have to be patient.” 

* * *

It was Tuesday evening, the twenty-sixth of April, and the fourth time in the past three days that Nathan and Parley had come to Mr. Patrick’s commodious home. With each meeting the numbers had grown, and now as the time for this latest meeting to begin approached, there was not even room to stand. Some had spilled out into the other rooms, and Parley was going to have to speak loudly so all could hear.