Our feelings about Joseph Smith can often be conflicted. On one hand we revere him as the prophet of the restoration, who has “has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived.” But need to the use of the phrase “save Jesus only” suggests the danger of revering someone so much—he should not get in the way of our focus on the Savior. In addition, Joseph was a human being, whose foibles are increasingly  in the public eye, as researchers and historians sift through more aspects of his life.

But despite the conflicts, it is clear that his record should be revered, and we have a long tradition of honoring his mission and his sacrifice. The poetry of the restoration is filled with references to Joseph’s work, and the poetry about his martyrdom alone could easily fill a nice volume. Perhaps I’ll get that done one day.

 

Joseph and Hyrum Smith sealed their testimonies with their blood.

The very phrase “sealed with blood” can be seen as part of the problem in Joseph’s veneration. In historical Christianity it is traditionally a reference to the savior’s sacrifice, which was then extended to other Christian martyrs—so it places Joseph Smith in rarified company, at least. While for many of us, that is the intention, of course, it also can be uncomfortable for others. Regardless, it is an ongoing part of our tradition to recognize that the martyrdom happened because of Joseph’s work as a prophet.

The author of the following poem, Joel H. Johnson, saw the ministry of Joseph Smith almost from the beginning. Johnson joined the Church in 1831. A prolific poet, Johnson’s journal contained more than 700 poems. His poems include “High on the Mountain Top”, currently found in the LDS hymnal.

 

I Thought of the Place Where the Two Martyrs Rest

by Joel H. Johnson

I thought of the place where the two martyrs rest,

Both Hyrum, and Joseph, the Seer,

In sentences clearly me thought they expressed,

“How sweet we are both, resting here.

“When called by Jehovah, and sent forth to sound

The Gospel, with book as the plan—

Moroni revealed unto us from the ground—

The only salvation for man;

“We published our mission abroad to the world,

For Peter, with James too, and John,

Ordained us with Priesthood, the truth to unfold,

The standard that makes the Saints one.

“The church of Jehovah we soon organized,

From warning we none did exempt;

While we with our brethren were mobbed and despised,

And treated with sneers and contempt.

“Imprisoned, and driven afar from our homes,

To Kirtland, our way did pursue,

And built up a temple, that Jesus might come

With wisdom his Saints to endue.

“We then to Missouri were forced to repair,

For wrath of our enemies burned;

No asylum for us was to be found there,

To Illinois then we returned.

“We built up the city of Nauvoo, the fair,

And sent forth the Elders abroad,

The standard of truth among nations to bear,

And build up the kingdom of God.

“While thus we’re obeying our Master’s command,

Our enemies all were agreed

In Carthage to slay us—a boasted free land—

While government winked at the deed.

“Our testament now with our blood we have sealed,

No better on earth can be found.

And all who oppose what the Lord has revealed

Through us, to destruction are bound.”

1882

 

Joseph Smith was a prophet and witness of Jesus Christ.

The role of prophet is many things, and as a result it is often misunderstood. It is both an office in the priesthood, and someone who talks to God. A prophet sees the future, but is also focused on the present. The role sometimes requires speaking truth to power, while also reaching out to everyone. And when we say that Joseph Smith was a prophet, we mean all of these to some degree.

Another poet who saw Joseph’s life was Samuel W. Richards. After joining the Church with his family at age 14, Richards moved to Nauvoo, then to Utah, and was then called on missions, including serving as the president of the British mission, succeeding his brother Franklin D., before he turned 30. He served in the Utah Legislature and as a judge, and again served a mission in the 1870s. He passed away in 1909.

 

Joseph, Our Brother, is Dead

by Samuel W. Richards

Joseph, thou art gone to the world of spirits, far away

In wilds, yea, far from home thy body there doth lay;

To rest with quiet sleep from toil and constant strife,

Until the resurrection morn shall welcome thee to life.

Joseph, how great the chance, how welcome to be free—

From what thy brothers still do witness day by day;

Thy life was short, ‘ere called to lay thy body down,

But long enough to gain for thee an Endless Crown.

Joseph, no longer fight to serve a nation’s cause.

Thy spirit now is free to serve celestial laws,

The power of which on earth you did obtain,

To weild it where both Kings and Priests shall ever reign.

Joseph, thy life, though short, was no less sweet and pure,

Lovely as innocence, the world it never could allure;

Redemption’s glorious work for thee shall all be done,

And onward still the heavenly race you there may run.

Joseph, while ‘mong thy kindred spirits with power divine.

Illumine regions dark, and let thy light forth shine—

And with thy martyr’d brother, mingle a martyr’s cry,

For vengeance to go forth with power from on high.

Joseph, when its proud work is done, and martyrs cry not known—

All blood aveng’d that oft in innocence has flown;

Father, mother, sister, brothers, shall join with thee,

In praise to him through whom we gain the victory.

Joseph, a stronger tie shall bind us then as one,

Than e’er was formed by ties of flesh alone!

The priesthood’s seal for thee, no death shall ever take,

While thy lone home, and death, and hell have bonds to break.

Joseph, rest thou in peace, thy works shall follow still,

For thou hast sought to find a life’s eternal seal;

Then wait the day when life, with priesthood’s power to save,

With trumpet voice shall say, ‘Thy home is not the grave.’

1847

 

I can help accomplish the Lord’s will as I follow His counsel.

So what does all this reverence for Joseph Smith, and thoughts about his role as a prophet, mean for us? Does a prophet mean anything if his words are not heard? Parley P. Pratt observed in his Dialog between Joseph Smith and the Devil that for many people, “though God may speak, they will not hear; … prophets may lift their voice, and their warnings pass unheeded,… So, for all the good they get from God, …they might as well be without a God.” If we don’t listen to the words of our Prophets, do we even have a Prophet?

The same could be said about the restoration. What is it exactly and what are we to do with it? If it doesn’t change our lives, including our eternal lives, then what good is it? Much of the early LDS poetry was a celebration of the restoration of the gospel — the following poem is an example. Perhaps that is the real celebration, the thing we are supposed to revere.

 

Now the truth once more appears

by anonymous

Now the truth once more appears;

Hark! the gospel trump is heard;

Honest souls dry up your tears,

You with knowledge may be fed.

See the earth, its treasure yield!

Treasures it has long enclosed,

To the world they are revealed,

Through the earth the message goes.

On a mission so divine,

See the saints of the Most High,

To accomplish his design,

Over hill and dale they fly.

Through Columbia’s happy land,

They the glorious standard raise;

Shout the time is near at hand,

—Wonders of the latter days.

Soon Britannia hears the sound,

And a thousand voices cry,

In the regions all around,

Glory be to God Most High.

Through the earth the tidings spread,

Distant nations catch the sound,

Where’er human feet doth tread,

There they bow with awe profound.

1841