Basic Beliefs of Mormons

Several weeks ago an interesting idea came to mind. Okay, it was probably more like several months ago. Nonetheless, I toyed with the idea for quite some time before I spoke to anyone about it. After a few interesting conversations with friends I called my mother. You see, my mom is always the final source of confirmation for me, just to make sure I don't ever go off the deep end. My mom is one of the straightest shooting people you will ever find.

As I explained to her what was, and still is, in my mind I was quite surprised by her answer. I'd expected a quick and painful dropping back to earth rather than what I did receive. She said,

"I've been thinking a lot about all these public shootings which have been going on. As I've thought about it I've wondered what I would do in that circumstance? Would I fight back or would I cower in fear? I realized, thinking back over the courage and strength our ancestors have shown through the forming of this nation that cowering would not be an option. Candace, can you walk away from this and still face our ancestors when you finally pass through the veil?"

It simply took me aback. I hadn't thought about what would happen when I finally died and passed to the other side of the veil. It hadn't occurred to me that my ancestors might ask me what I did with mortality and what I did with the sacrifices they made so that I could live in America and be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, often referred to as the Mormons.

I began to consider the idea which had been percolating in the back of my brain much more seriously. Then came the preparation for my husband's kidney transplant, his transplant and now the recovery process. I hadn't done much with my idea, being otherwise occupied.

This afternoon, Alvin and I were driving south on I-15 on our way to watch my sister's group perform for the senior citizens of her town and then a local elementary. As I glanced up I saw the majestic Wasatch mountains framed against a blue sky with clouds floating lazily across that canvas. Something about the crags, cliffs and rocks of those mountains brought my ancestors back to mind.

There was Thomas Dodd Smith, my great-great-great-great grandfather who was reputed to have been a bodyguard of George Washington during the Revolutionary War. He suffered, as the Revolutionary War soldiers suffered, and spent those long months and years away from his wife as he fought to free America from British rule.

There was Moses Harris, my great-great-great grandfather, the son-in-law of Thomas Dodd Smith, who was first introduced to the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ in 1832. Despite the trials, tribulations and persecutions already occurring, Moses and his wife, Fanny, recognized the Gospel, remembered what they'd been told by her father, and joined the Church. They were driven state to state, home to home, suffering all the above mentioned and they never faltered. They followed Joseph Smith to Illinois and then Brigham Young to Utah. They always completed anything the prophet asked them do, it mattered not how difficult or lengthy the task. They stayed true to the Gospel, as did their children and down through them, to my mother and then me.

My great-great grandfather, John Smith Harris, who had two wives, finally had to flee to Mexico, where he lived the remainder of his life and died in the colonies just across the border. My great-great grandmother, his first wife, stayed in Utah and her son, my great-grandfather, Thomas Dodd Harris, eventually settled in the Southwestern corner of Colorado where my mother was raised.

On my biological father's side, his ancestors also fought in every war from the Revolutionary War to my cousins currently serving in the military, having already completed stints in Iraq.

Every war this nation has fought, my blood has been on the front lines defending America, freedom and the hope that this country stands for ... a future full of promise if we will only work hard enough to believe that we can do it and then follow through.

All this poured through my mind, along with their sacrifices, as I looked at those mountains. You might ask what point am I coming to?

We honor our ancestors by living our lives by not only being grateful for the decisions they made which not only brought us to this point in our lives, but also by living up to the fullest of the potential which exists in us, both temporally and spiritually. So, here are just a few questions to ask ourselves:

• Do we take advantage of the time, freedom and opportunities we have or do we spend all our time in front of the television or playing video games?
• Do we take the time to continue the learning process, constantly honing and perfecting our gifts and talents, or do we simply coast through life?
• Do we take the time to understand our faults and weaknesses and to do as Enos did in the Book of Mormon, repent and do so with all the sincerity and humility in our hearts? In other words, do you work every day to be just a little better?
• Have we taken the time to learn and understand who Jesus Christ is, what He's done for us and why He is such an integral part of every aspect of our lives?
• Do we take to heart the request of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and live our lives in such a way that others notice something different when we live as He has asked us?
• Do we study the Gospel of Jesus Christ and then share what we've learned as opportunities are presented to us?

This is just a little of what I think of when honoring my ancestors. So yes,

• I strive to be the best at what I do.
• I immerse myself in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, absolutely absorbing the knowledge which pours from the scriptures and the mouths of moderns prophets and apostles.
• I constantly work to improve, increase and hone my skills and talents.
• I work, every day, on weaknesses to make them my strengths, as described in Ether: And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. (Ether 12:27)
• I learn as much as I can, actually thirsting after knowledge.
• This nation my ancestors fought to create, and then preserve, is left to me, and all American citizens, to maintain and defend.

So this idea percolating in my head is beginning to come alive. I will not face my ancestors and say I had not the courage to proceed. I will not say to them I wasted the opportunity and privileges they died to make sure I would have. I will not say to them I treated the Gospel of Jesus Christ with a casualness, never understanding the full potential of what they fought to provide for me. I will not say to them that I took the sacrifices and Atoning Gift of Jesus Christ and turned my back on Him.

I will live up to the expectations of my ancestors. I will honor them and their sacrifices. I will fulfill my divine and mortal potential. I will.

This, I believe, is honoring my ancestors.

Today we received notification of Alvin's transplant surgery. From the moment he was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure seven years ago we have pushed forward with faith, diligence and an astounding amount of courage and strength. My husband has remained unfailingly cheerful and optimistic even when the greatest of trials weighed him down. Me, there were times I shut myself in the bathroom where no one could hear and cried. Nonetheless, the moment is finally here. A chance for my husband to live a life free of dialysis and the innumerable dialysis induced traumas and illnesses.

As I have paused amongst the hustle bustle of trying to get everything organized and in place (you cannot imagine the amount of doctors appointments, paperwork, etc. that have be waded through) I have begun to realize the magnitude of the Lord's hand in this miracle.

Thirteen years ago Alvin and I were married for time and all eternity in the Bountiful Temple. It was an extremely sacred experience which culminated a very long start and stop courtship. We have been very happy since that day, except for the instance of Alvin's health.

Faith is a very simple thing. There were times when it appeared Alvin would not survive the illness striking him down. At those times I became so confused because I was told to have faith and I did and do, but I also realize that we must be willing to submit ourselves to the Father's will. That is simply not as easy as it sounds.

President Gordon B. Hinckley, the 15th called prophet in these modern times, said:

We know not all that lies ahead of us. We live in a world of uncertainty. For some, there will be great accomplishment. For others, disappointment. For some, much of rejoicing and gladness, good health, and gracious living. For others, perhaps sickness and a measure of sorrow. We do not know. But one thing we do know. Like the Polar Star in the heavens, regardless of what the future holds, there stands the Redeemer of the world, the Son of God, certain and sure as the anchor of our immortal lives. He is the rock of our salvation, our strength, our comfort, the very focus of our faith.

In sunshine and in shadow we look to Him, and He is there to assure and smile upon us.

He is the central focus of our worship. He is the Son of the living God, the Firstborn of the Father, the Only Begotten in the flesh. He is “risen from the dead, … the firstfruits of them that slept” (1 Corinthians 15:20). He is the Lord who shall come again “to reign on the earth over his people” (D&C 76:63; see also Micah 4:7; Revelation 11:15).

None so great has ever walked the earth. None other has made a comparable sacrifice or granted a comparable blessing. He is the Savior and the Redeemer of the world. I believe in Him. I declare His divinity without equivocation or compromise. I love Him. I speak the name of Jesus Christ in reverence and wonder. He is our King, our Lord, our Master, the living Christ, who stands on the right hand of His Father. He lives! He lives, resplendent and wonderful, the living Son of the living God. (Gordon B. Hinckley, “We Testify of Jesus Christ,” Ensign, Mar 2008, 4–7)

For one, even as I, who might struggle with understanding where faith leaves off and God's will picks up I have come to a single conclusion:

We must have faith that God's will is the best way to go.

I do know this, in times of great despair I have felt the comfort and love of my Savior sweep over me. At moments when I feared I was facing Alvin's death, the peace, despite the overwhelming sorrow, swept over me and calm settled within my soul.

Now is a time of great rejoicing for our family. We are so thrilled Alvin will be receiving a new kidney and a new lease on life. We have faith that whatever the outcome it will be in our best interest. But to be honest, we're believing the best of everything is going to happen and preparing for the worst. And we will lean on our Rock, our Redeemer . . . for only through Him can we truly find the faith to continue down this path.

According to my genealogy I am descended of Joseph of Arimathaea. Yes, he is the man, the Sadducee, who begged Pontius Pilate for the body of the Savior and laid Him to rest in the tomb he'd prepared for himself.

Was Joseph a follower of Jesus Christ? Certainly. According to the Talmud, he was the younger brother of the father of Mary, the mother of Jesus. He was her uncle and the Savior's great-uncle. Joseph, like many of early Christian history, have been sainted by the Catholic Church. Then He was rumored to have brought the Holy Grail from the holy city of Jerusalem and was then written into the Arthurian legends. Much of his life has been mixed with legend until it is difficult to know what is truth and what is legend.

Decades ago George F. Jowett wrote The Drama of the Lost Disciples. In it, he claims to have been granted access to the journals of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathaea which are carefully preserved in the archives and catacombs under the Vatican.

Joseph of Arimathaea was a man of refinement, well educated, and one who possessed many talents. He had extraordinary political and business ability and was reputed to be one of the wealthiest men in the world of that time. (George F. Jowett, The Drama of the Lost Disciples, Covenant Publishing, London, 1980 17)

Jowett goes on to say that Joseph controlled the tin trade in the Roman empire and therefore was the Carnegie of his day. He was also a member of the Sanhedrin, which was the Jewish religious body that ruled Jews within the Roman empire as well as a legislative member of a provincial Roman senate. In other words, he was a man of great power and wealth.

We know that Joseph never forsook his nephew [Jesus Christ.] He stood beside Him as a bold, fearless defender at the notorious trial, and defied the Sanhedrin by going to Pilate and boldly claiming the body when all others feared to do so. His arms were the first to cradle the broken corpse when taken from the cross and place it in the tomb. After death he continued to protect the mutilated body of Jesus from the conspiring minds of the Sadducees. He risked his all, wealth, power and position in those crucial years fulfilling his obligation as guardian of Jesus and of the family of Mary. (George F. Jowett, The Drama of the Lost Disciples, Covenant Publishing, London, 1980 18)

Much of this knowledge was drawn from the journal of Nicodemus. As things became quite precarious for Christians in the Roman Empire, Joseph began using his ships to give Christians safe passage to the British isles where he had large holdings. Ship after ship carried those who would leave and the last ship carried Joseph, Mary the mother of Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

The rest of the history of Joseph is shrouded in mystery, shadow and legend. Sufficeth to say, he took his familial responsibility and duties seriously and protected those who followed the Savior until his last day on the earth.

He was a man of honor, strength, courage and integrity and I am very proud to be a descendant of this great man.

I have one line of my family history all the way back to Adam. Now, obviously, I was a little suspect when I connected these ancestors, so I traced them all the way back to be certain they were indeed . . . my ancestors.

In doing so, I've run across some really interesting characters, one of which is the Patron Saint of Beer, St. Arnold. I kid you not! There really is a Patron Saint of Beer and I'm related to the guy.

This is one of the really fun aspects of doing your genealogy. On top of the eternal aspect, which is pretty huge, you get to learn a little more than a name, birth date and death about the people from whom you are descended.

First, let's talk about Arnold and then I'll explain the eternal benefits of doing your genealogy.

St. Arnold -- According to Wikipedia,

Arnold of Soissons or Arnold of Oudenaarde (also Arnulf) is a saint of the Roman Catholic Church. He is often cited as the patron saint of hop-pickers and Belgian brewers.

Arnold lived from 1040 to 1087. Born in Oudenaarde, Flanders, he was first a career soldier (Arnulph the Strong of Oudenaarde), before settling at the Benedictine monastery of Soissons, France. He spent his first three years as a hermit, but later rose to be abbot of the monastery. His hagiography states that he tried to refuse this honor and flee—a standard trope (compare Jiménez de Cisneros)— but was forced by a wolf to return. He then became a priest and finally a bishop, another honor that he sought to avoid. When his see was occupied by another bishop, rather than fighting, he took the opportunity to retire from public life, founding the Abbey of St. Peter in Oudenburg.

At the abbey, he began to brew beer, as essential in medieval life as water. He encouraged local peasants to drink beer, instead of water, due to its "gift of health." During the process of brewing, the water was boiled and thus, unknown to all, freed of pathogens. This same story is also told of Arnulf or Arnold of Metz, another patron of brewers. There are many depictions of St. Arnold with a mashing rake in his hand, to identify him. He is honored in July with a parade in Brussels on the "Day of Beer."

St. Arnold's feast day is on 8 July.

Is that just an interesting ancestor of note or what?

Now down to the reasons genealogy is so important. The Lord wants one solid line, from Adam down to you. Genealogical records are so important to the Lord that one of the twelve tribes of Israel was condemned because they didn't keep those records.

When Lehi and his family were commanded to flee Jerusalem, the Lord sent his sons back to retrieve the plates which contained their genealogy all the way back to Adam.

“What is our obligation then? Each one of us—if we pretend to obey the gospel at all—must search out our dead and have these saving ordinances performed for them.

“Many suppose that they are discharging their responsibilities by simply ‘going to the temple.’ But that is not wholly true. We must go to the temple, of course, and often. If we do not as yet have the records of our own dead kindred, then while we search for them, by all means let us help others with theirs.

“But be it understood that if we go to the temple, and not for our own dead, we are performing only a part of our duty, because we are also required to go there specifically to save our own dead relatives and bind the various generations together by the power of the holy priesthood.

“We must disabuse our minds of the idea that merely ‘going to the temple’ discharges our full responsibility, because it does not. That is not enough. …

“God holds each of us responsible for saving our own kindred — specifically our own.” (Ensign, May 1976, pp. 15–16.) George D. Durrant, “Genealogy and Temple Work: ‘You Can’t Have One without the Other’,” Ensign, Aug 1983, 18)

We literally participate in the redeeming of our ancestors when we find them and then take that ancestor's name to the temple and complete all the saving ordinances awaiting them. The joy which bursts from the other side of veil is tangible. An ancestor, waiting, for hundreds of years, for someone here to remember them and to go to the temple and act as proxy for them will forever aid you in your mortal existence. We have become, in essence, saviors on Mount Zion. In completing an ancestor's temple work, you have forged one more link in that eternal chain back to Adam.

If you don't know where to start, drop by our Genealogy section and take the advice of our expert, Summer Owens. You'll be forever glad you did.

Moses Harris is my great-great-great grandfather. I'll admit it, I'm a genealogy buff and I go above and beyond the normal seeking out of ancestors. I try to find journals, newspaper articles, wills, obituaries, family bibles, letters . . . anything I can find to help me realize these men and women who trod this world before us were once real, living, breathing human beings.

One of these is Grandpa Moses, as I like to call him. He was born July 20th, 1798 in Fitch, Pennsylvania. I assume Grandpa Moses grew up like other young men of his day, carving out a livelihood in the new America. John Adams had just replaced George Washington as president of the United States. The newly ratified U.S. Constitution was eleven years old and the country was still feeling its growing pains.

Prior to January 1, 1824, when he married his sweetheart, Fanny Smith, he was in conversation with his future father-in-law, Thomas Dodd Smith. His father-in-law explained to him that the true church was not on the face of the earth at this time, but that it would come during Moses' and Fanny's lifetime. He begged Moses to not forget his future wife's parents when the time came.

This was so important to Grandpa Thomas, that he spoke of this, once more, to Moses before he married Fanny.

On February 24, 1833 Moses and Fanny were baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Grandpa Thomas died in 1829, one year before the restoration and organization of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and Grandma Keziah died sometime within the next decade. But Moses did not forget the promise to his father-in-law, and he and Fanny were baptized for her parents, and then performed the temple ordinances for them when those became available.

My great-great-great-great grandparents were driven from state to state, along with the rest of the saints. They lost three children to the mobs of Missouri. They settled in Montrose, Iowa, right across the river from Nauvoo. (Montrose is where the prophet, Joseph Smith, Jr., was fleeing prior to his last arrest. But that's an entirely different sequence of events.) When the saints had to leave Nauvoo, Moses packed up his family once more and they started west. Moses was very ill during this journey, and yet when the U.S. Army (whose nerve knew no bounds) showed and demanded their healthiest men to fight in the Mexican American War, Moses sent his son, Silas Harris, to fight in the Mormon Batallion.

Once the family was reunited, they continued west and settled in the Salt Lake valley until they were asked by Brigham Young to go settle the San Bernadino valley. Moses and his family relocated without complaint. They were very close to paying off their properties in San Bernardino when Black Hawk started his raids. Brigham Young ordered all the Latter-day Saints to leave that area, and once again, without complaint, Moses packed up his family and moved to settle the new area, Harrisville (which later became Harrisburg), Utah. Harrisburg is located in southern Utah, 15 miles north of St. George, and is now a ghost town.

From his obituary we learn a little more of the type of man my great-great-great-grandfather was:

Obituary of Moses Harris
Deseret Evening News
March 27, 1890, page 3:

DEATH OF MOSES HARRIS.

Yet Another Aged Veteran Passes Away.

Moses Harris, the subject of this sketch, was born July 20th, 1798, in Somerset County Pennsylvania. He was the son of Silas and Annaretta Wright Harris. His Ancestor was among the first of New England. In an early day his father moved into Indiana and settled in Cork County. There Moses became acquainted with Fanny Smith, whom he married Jan. 1st, 1824, and who still survives him, aged 86 years. Both were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on February 23rd, 1833. He, in company with his brother-in-law, Samuel Hawks, gathered with the Saints in Missouri in the summer of 1836, and stopped through the winter of 1836 and '37 at Charlton, Missouri, and in the following spring located on Crooked River, Caldwell County. He suffered with the Saints in the persecution of 1838, and in the inclement months of March, 1839, with a one-hose wagon, in which had be stowed the most necessary household goods, with several children, he set out for Illinois, leaving all the balance of their property a prey to the mobbers.

He finally settled about five miles west of Montrose, Iowa, in a very destitute condition. He was ordained a High Priest under the direction of the Prophet Joseph Smith in Nauvoo.

The season before the exodus of the Saints from Illinois he moved on a farm nearer Montrose which he had retained. About the first of May, 1846, he took up the line of march with the Saints for the West, and arrived at Council bluffs about the time that Colonel Allen called on the Twelve for 500 volunteers to go to California. He gave up his eldest son, Silas, who was the main support of the family in response to the call of the Twelve, to enlist in the battalion. At the Bluffs he located on Little Pidgeon Creek. In October, 1848, his son arrived from California and, with his assistance, the family were prepared to cross the plains in R.N. Allred's company, in 1849. After they had crossed the Loup Fork, his sister, the wife of William Hawk, was killed in a stampede.

He arrived in Salt Lake valley on the 16th of October and settled in Bountiful, ten miles north of Salt Lake City, where he remained until the spring of 1851, when he joined the company of Charles C. Rich and Amaza Lyman to go to San Bernardino to form a settlement. At that place he purchased forty acres of land at #10 per acre, but not having it quite paid for when the settlement was broken up, he got no title for it and so lost it with the improvements he had made. He started on his return to Utah in the fall of 1857 in Jefferson Hunt's company, and settled in Washington, Washington County, Utah, in February, 1858. In the spring of 1859 he moved to Harrisburg, which place was named after him by President Brigham Young, he being the only settler there at that time.

In May 1864 he moved with his son John to Berry Valley (now Long Valley), Kane County, Utah, and located at what is now the town of Glendale, where he remained until driven out by the Indians in June 1867. HE returned to Harrisburg where he remained about three years, and then assisted in building up the town of Leeds, three miles eat of Harrisburg. From this place he moved back to Glendale, Long Valley, and settled near his son Silas, at which place he departed this life March 15th, 1890, after an illness of thirty days, caused by an attack of influenza, which settled in his stomach, causing severe pain. He finally passed peacefully away a few minutes before midnight, aged 91 years, 7 months and 25 days.

He leaves a posterity now living of five children, [55] grandchildren. Father Harris' long and eventful life, after gathering with the Saints in Missouri, was mostly spent in opening up new settlements. He was very unassuming, and was honest and upright in his dealings with his fellow man, always quietly performing all duties required of him. He was very temperate in his habits. He never faltered nor murmured under all the trying scenes he was called to pass through, and was ever ready to bear a strong testimony to the truth of this Latter-day work. It can truly be said of him, "He has fought the good flight, he has kept the faith," and will come forth in the morning of the first resurrection and inherit all the blessings sealed upon his head in the Temple of the Lord, wherein he passed through all the ordinances given in those scared places.

WARREN FOOTE.

I am of that posterity. People ask me why I strive to accomplish so much. They ask me why I love the gospel and our Savior, Jesus Christ so much. They ask me why I am so devoted to my family and friends. Being descended from Moses Harris, could I do or be any less?