Belonging to Heaven, page 11
“And now his grandson is the ali‘i nui.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Another of Kamehameha’s sons. You must remember that Kamehameha the Great had several wives, Brother George. King Kamehameha III was young when he came to the throne, and he has reigned twenty-five years.”
“Do you think there will always be Hawaiian kings and queens?”
“Always? Always is a very long time, my young friend.” Jonathan stretched his back. “Change is the only thing you can expect, Brother George. Look at the Hawaiian people. We began with chiefs and the worship of the four gods. We had the kapu system and the chanting of the oli. We had our fierce king, Kamehameha, with his many wives and his sacred heiaus—his temples. Then came his son, Kamehameha II, who did away with the kapu system and ordered the destruction of the heiaus. The world began sailing to our shores, and the word of Christ Jesus came to our ears. We looked to the British for our government and how we dress. We learned to speak the English and to write down our history with letters. Kamehameha III, brother to Kamehameha II, then changes the land divisions, and foreigners begin to look at our paradise home for the raising of crops and the grazing of cattle.” Jonathan took a drink from his canteen. He stared at the sky with its billowing clouds and patches of blue sky. He sighed. “My friend, David Malo, who is a great man of letters, says that soon we will not know the islands of our birth.”
“Does that make you sad?”
Jonathan looked at him. “Yes, but one cannot go backward, Brother George. I would not want to go back to the kapu system or living without Jesus in my life. Besides, if we were to go back, the Scotsman would not have come, and I would not have my beautiful wife, Kitty.” George smiled. “And the Mormons would not have come, and I would not have my friend, George Cannon.”
It was a guileless pronouncement, and George felt honored to be called the friend of this good man. “Thank you, Brother Jonathan.”
Jonathan smiled and made himself comfortable with his back to the tree. “Now, you need to tell me more about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon.”
For the next hour, George tried to answer Jonathan’s many questions and explain the story of the first vision and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. Finally his brain and tongue grew tired trying to think of and speak all the Hawaiian words. He lay back on the grassy knoll and clamped his hands around his head.
Jonathan laughed. “I am sorry, Brother George. That was a lot of Hawaiian.”
George groaned. “My brain feels like poi.”
Jonathan laughed heartily and then sobered. “You honor us to learn our language. It shows respect. I wish more of the newcomers were respectful of the Hawaiian people.”
“God loves all his children equally, Brother Jonathan. Can we do less?”
George’s eyes were closed so he did not see the look of awe on Jonathan’s face. After several minutes where there was only birdsong and the rustle of leaves, Jonathan spoke. “Do you think more Mormon missionaries will come?”
George sat up slowly. “Yes. I think they will.”
“And it is difficult to learn our language.”
George rubbed his temples. “It is. Most of the missionaries who started this mission have gone home because they could not or would not learn the language. Most of the others who have stayed agree that it will take a year to learn even a little.”
Jonathan shook his head. “That is too long.” He looked at the distant mountains. “There has to be a way for them to learn more quickly.”
George chuckled. “You are not even a member of the Church, Brother Jonathan, and you worry about the missionaries learning the language?”
Jonathan chuckled with him. “Yes. And, I have a great desire to read the Book of Mormon in my language too.”
“Now that is a tall order,” George said in English.
Jonathan nodded. “I know that English—tall order. My father-in-law, the Scotsman, says that all the time.” He stood and slung his canteen over his shoulder. “It is a tall order, but it should be done.”
George stood and dusted off his pants. He grinned at Jonathan. “There is much I admire about your people, Brother Jonathan. They have a joyful innocence about them and a simple wisdom and faith.” He hesitated, not knowing if he could find the Hawaiian words to make sense of this next thought, but he tried. “Did you know that the Church believes that the Hawaiian people are descendants of the ancient Israelites?”
Jonathan looked surprised. “The ancient Israelites?”
George thought he was going to mock his statement, but a wide grin planted itself on his companion’s face.
“That is what my friend, David Malo, thinks!”
Now it was George’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”
“Yes, David is a great scholar of the Bible and ancient civilizations, and he says that many of the traditions of Hawaii nei are exactly like the Israelites of the Bible.”
George shook his head in wonder. “Well, how about that? I wish I could meet this David Malo.”
“I will write you a letter of introduction. He lives at a place called Ukamehame. It is on the way between Lahaina and Wailuku. He is a fine Christian man and I am sure he would be interested in speaking with you.”
“I would like that. Does he speak any English?”
“A little.” Jonathan smiled at George’s look of discomfort. “Do not worry, Brother George, you speak well enough. Soon your brain will not feel like poi when speaking my language.” He looked up the trail. “So, do you want to go on or go back?”
George brightened. “I say we go on for a while! And as we go, you can practice your English.”
“My English is good.”
George smiled at his attempt at the language. “Yes, but your English can be better.”
“My English can be better.” Jonathan started off down the path. “Now, let us go walking.”
George chuckled. “Very good! Our hard work will pay off.”
“In Hawaiian.”
George took his time, and then said slowly, “Aia ke ola i ka hana.”
Jonathan nodded. “Good, Brother George. Good.”
Notes
In the days prior to the coming of Captain Cook, the islands were divided into ahupua‘a. These tracks of land extended from the summit of the mountains to the reef, and varied in size from 100 acres to over 100,000 acres. On March 8, 1848, Kamehameha III set apart the larger part of the land as government lands, which were intended to produce revenue for the operation of the government. It is referred to as the Great Mahele.
“The Voice of Warning” was a missionary tract written by Parley P. Pratt in 1837.
Jonathan Napela began language training sessions in his home with the early LDS missionaries. He would immerse them in the language for two to three months—a timetable used today in the language training centers of the Church.
Chapter 14
Wailuku, Maui
April 13, 1851
George awoke to the sound of arguing voices. He lay for a moment trying to clear the sleep from his tired brain, hoping to make out some of the words coming from downstairs. He couldn’t decipher what was being said, but he was fairly sure one of the voices was Jonathan’s and one was Reverend Conde’s. Several women’s voices inserted comments, and, whether they were adding to the contention or trying to subdue it, George couldn’t tell. He did have a strong impression that he was at the center of the disagreement.
George closed his eyes and thought about the dream he’d had in the night. He’d stood in a place where there were many small stones from the size of an egg and up, and several men were pelting him with these stones, but he wasn’t hurt by any of them. George smiled to himself as he remembered returning the assault with hearty good will. He threw very straight, and many of the men were hurt and began to run away. Then the place changed, and he was leading a small company of folks down a muddy descent, as though it had been raining. The dream ended there, but he remembered feeling encouraged.
A few more strident pronouncements jumped up the stairs to George’s ears, erasing the dream and its tranquil shelter. He sat up. He had known it would come to this. Over the weeks, Jonathan and Kitty had been assuring him that the opposition to him being a guest in their home was slight and manageable. This did not sound manageable. George slid out of bed and dressed.
When he arrived downstairs, he found that the company had departed and the house was quiet. No one was in the main room, so George went to the kitchen. He found Kitty cutting the rind from a red melon. She turned to him as soon as he entered.
“Good morning, Brother George.”
“Good morning, Kitty Napela.”
“I am sorry you were woken from your sleep by that horrid noise.”
George grinned at her. “I am sorry you had to hear that horrid noise because of me.”
Tears jumped into Kitty’s eyes. “Jonathan is on the porch. He would like to talk to you. I will have something for you to eat when you are finished.”
George nodded and turned away. A cold feeling surrounded him as he moved through the parlor. It was as though the words that had been spoken there had left ill will floating in the air. It was the feeling of mobs and hatred, and it made George shudder. He moved out onto the sunny porch and was grateful for the warmth. It made him feel hopeful. He found Jonathan sitting on the steps and went to sit beside him. The man’s face was filled with anger, so George just sat without speaking. Finally Jonathan sighed heavily and laid his hand on George’s shoulder.
“I do not understand men,” he said. “I wish my father were still with me. I would ask him his thoughts. He would give me a good answer.”
George felt a tightening in his throat. “My father too, he could always make sense of things.”
Jonathan patted him. “Well, here we are, having to figure this out by ourselves.” He took his hand away. “If we were in Oloalu, my wise mother could give us counsel. But, she is getting old and does not like to talk much anymore.”
“The Reverend Conde was here to warn you against me and my preaching, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. He and his wife. They want us to put you out of our house. They want us to stop listening to your words. They say you do not preach the true doctrine of Christ. They say you preach lies.”
George did not answer and the two men sat silent, listening to the call of the orange ‘akepa bird in a nearby tree.
Finally George spoke, working hard to keep his tone even. “And what do you say, Brother Jonathan? Have I ever taught you and Kitty, or any of your friends, anything that I did not back up with proof from the Bible?”
“No, Brother George. We love the words you teach us. But that is not the trouble. The council has warned us many times against your preaching, and always I tell them to mind their own business. I am free to listen to what I like and to keep whatever guest I want in my home. But . . .” He hesitated and George waited. “But now they threaten to take away my judgeship.”
George was stunned. “What? How . . . how can they do that? Do they have the power to do that?”
“The church holds a great influence in the government, Brother George. And since I received my first training at the Lahainaluna Seminary School, they feel I should give them my loyalty.”
George just shook his head as his heart beat against his ribs. “But can they make a case against you for listening to my preaching?”
Jonathan actually smiled. “Oh, they will bring other things against me. They have warned me about my drinking many times. That could be a charge for dismissal.”
“But you are trying to stop.”
“Yes, Brother George, since you taught us the words of wisdom, I have been trying, but it is not easy. I am ali‘i and grew up drinking the awa at special occasions. And now, it does not help that the merchant ships bring in rum and whisky from around the world.”
George could not find the Hawaiian words to express his feelings. He stood and walked out into the yard. Anger and disappointment squeezed his heart into a tight knot. He walked. He walked about the yard, his emotions too intense to allow for the blessed release of tears. Why, Father? Why would you send me to this wonderful man and his wife only for the work to be frustrated? He will never join the Church. He cannot give up his position and his livelihood. I don’t understand. I have been working hard to learn the language. I have been prayerful. I have heard your voice prompting me. I have been led here. Why? He passed a ginger plant, and the pungent smell of the blossoms stopped him in his tracks. George closed his eyes, as sweet and comforting words swirled into his jumbled thoughts. My ways are not your ways. Wait upon the Lord. Go to Lahaina and check on the mission. Leave things here in my hands. George nodded his head in acquiescence and slowly opened his eyes. When he turned, he saw a group of people standing around Brother Napela: Kaleohano, William Uaua, and several members of Kitty’s family. Most of the group was trying not to glance in his direction, but Kitty’s younger sister, Nele, was staring right at him with a look of chagrin. Wonderful. How long have I been walking about, totally unaware of anything but my own worries, and how long have they been observing my strange antics? George took a breath and tried to put on an air of nonchalance as he approached the house. Now none of them will want to listen to me, not a madman out stomping about the yard and mumbling to himself. He attempted a smile, as Kitty’s brother, John Richardson, stepped forward and reached out his hand.
“We understand that the Condes were here this morning,” he said in English.
George took John’s hand and shook it. “News travels fast.”
John smiled, but his eyes remained sober. “It is a small community. So, the Condes had something to discuss?”
George looked at Jonathan, knowing that he understood much of the English. “Yes, it seems they are not too fond of me.”
“Well, they want to make sure that wolves don’t enter the flock.”
George swallowed. He wished John’s English were not so good. He had always been intimidated by John Richardson. He was a district judge, like Jonathan, but unlike Jonathan, who had a ready smile and sense of humor, John Richardson was cautious and austere. George swallowed again. “And is that what you think of me, Brother John, that I am a wolf?”
A slight smile brushed the edge of John’s mouth. “Well, maybe a fox.” He translated to the group what was said between him and George.
Jonathan stepped forward. “He is not a wolf or a fox. He is a young man with a good heart.”
“But a good heart can be fooled,” John answered in Hawaiian.
George understood every word, and righteous indignation flared in him. “Is that truly what you think of me? That I have been fooled by the man Joseph Smith and his fantastic claims about angels and gold bibles?” John translated the words into Hawaiian, and from the several downturned faces that would no longer meet his gaze, George knew that was exactly what they had been thinking. He clenched his teeth to quell his emotion. He looked directly at John Richardson. “Mr. Richardson, if you would be so kind to translate for me, I would like to say a word or two about my faith.” John nodded his acceptance, and George gave him a level look. “I will know if you are giving the right meaning to my words.” John’s eyes narrowed, but George did not back down. He had to take several deep breaths to bridle his frustration before he could begin. He prayed for the Spirit. “I knew the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother, Hyrum. They were decent men. They worked hard and gave the thousands of Saints under their care every possible opportunity to prosper and achieve. The gospel, restored to us through the Prophet Joseph, is the same as the primitive church in Christ’s day. This you know, because I have taught you from the Bible; everything I have ever taught you from baptism, to priesthood authority, to revelation has come through the Bible.”
“Then why do we need another religion or another Bible?” William Uaua interjected.
“The scriptures say ‘one Lord, one faith, one baptism,’ but which one? Is it the baptism of sprinkling or immersion? Is it the faith of continuing revelation or that the heavens are closed? Are there prophets and apostles in any other church today?”
William stepped back as John completed the translation.
George’s voice took on a quiet intensity. “The scriptures say, ‘by their fruits ye shall know them.’ Well, if you had seen the miserable swampland on the Mississippi that by industry and miracle was turned into the beautiful city of Nauvoo, then you would know the fruits of this Church and its people. If you had stood as I did and watched them bring the bodies of Joseph and Hyrum from Carthage Jail, and had seen the thousands of weeping people, then you would know the love the people had for them.” George looked at each of their faces. “You know me. You know my heart. I am not a boaster. I am not a cheat. And I do not bear false witness.”
Jonathan and Kitty and several others were weeping.
“What I have told you is true. Please, please, dear friends, do not let the false stories of Reverend Conde turn your hearts. Please, if you value your souls, promise me that you will not reject my words until you can understand them for yourselves.”
John Richardson’s voice broke as he translated the last of George’s words. His face had lost some of its tension, but the tone of his voice was still reproachful and stiff. “I am worried for my sister.”
George went and put his hand on the man’s arm. “I know, Brother John, and the last thing I want to do is cause trouble for Jonathan and Kitty. Over the weeks they have come to mean much to me. They have been good and generous in letting me stay with them, but now, I feel prompted to travel back to Lahaina. Perhaps if I am gone, things will settle.”
Jonathan wiped at his tears. “But I do not want you to go.”
“Thank you for that, Brother Jonathan, but this will be a good time for me to check on my missionary companions and report the experiences I’ve had on my trip around the island.” He hesitated. “I will speak favorably of my meeting with all of you.” Several more faces took on a cheerless look.
