“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:  for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  (Heb. 13:1-2).

On the 14^th of June 1828 Joseph Smith completed translating the Book of Lehi from the Golden Plates, with Margin Harris serving as scribe.  Martin repeatedly begged Joseph for permission to take the 116 pages of manuscript to show to his wife and family members.  The Lord eventually allowed this to take place on condition that Martin would make a solemn covenant, in writing, to show the manuscript to only five designated individuals, and to return the manuscript to Joseph in a specified period of time.  The manuscript was given to Martin in Harmony, Pennsylvania, and he immediately left to return to his home in Palmyra, New York about 160 miles away.

Joseph’s wife, Emma, was due to deliver their first child.  The baby died within several hours of its birth.  Emma, herself, came very near to leaving this world, also.  For two weeks she hovered between life and death with Joseph acting as her nurse and caregiver.  During the whole time he never got an hour of uninterrupted sleep.  It was a physically and mentally exhausting time.

While he was thus laboring with his wife, another trouble began to intrude itself upon his mind.  He had received no communication from Martin Harris, which was contrary to their agreement.  There was nothing he could do about it but worry.  He couldn’t leave his wife, and he didn’t want to mention his concerns to her for fear that the worry would worsen her condition.

Finally, however, she brought the subject up herself, and insisted that if Joseph would get her mother to come care for her, she would be all right while he made the trip to Palmyra to retrieve the manuscript.

Joseph caught the next stage to Palmyra.  He and another gentleman were the only passengers aboard.  The man observed Joseph’s gloomy appearance, and inquired what the matter was.  Joseph told him that he had just buried their firstborn child, and that he wasn’t sure that his wife would still be alive when he returned home.  He didn’t tell the man about the manuscript.

The stage arrived at Palmyra at 10:00 at night.  Joseph remarked to the man that he still had 20 miles to walk that night in order to reach his parents’ home.  The man objected.  “I have watched you since you first entered the stage, and I know that you have neither slept nor eaten since that time, and you shall not go on foot twenty miles alone this night; for if you must go, I will be your company…I fear that your constitution, which is evidently not strong, will be inadequate to support you.  You will be in danger of falling asleep in the forest, and of meeting with some awful disaster.”  (History of Joseph Smith by his mother, Lucy Mack Smith, pp. 126-127).

The man, who Lucy Mack Smith refers to as “the stranger” put his own affairs aside and walked 20 miles through a dark night with Joseph.  “He was under the necessity of leading Joseph the last four miles by the arm; for…he would fall asleep” every few minutes as he was walking along.  (Ibid, pg. 127).

Would you have done that for a perfect stranger?  Would you have set out on foot to walk 6 or 7 hours through a dark night through unfamiliar territory to help a man you might never see again?

I once heard that the definition of a Christian is “one who is willing to be inconvenienced for another.”

I like that.  Brigham Young, upon hearing that three boys had carried nearly the entire Martin Handcart Company through the ice-filled Sweetwater River declared, “That act alone will ensure C. Allen Huntington, George W. Grant, and David P. Kimball an everlasting salvation in the Celestial Kingdom of God, worlds without end.”  (The Ensign, May 1990, pg. 47).  I’d like to think that this act by “the stranger” for our beloved Prophet would secure a place for him in the Celestial Kingdom, too.  This anonymous man rendered an invaluable service, and played a role in the Restoration of the gospel that will surely not be forgotten by the Lord.

The consequences of losing the 116 pages of manuscript were that the angel took the Golden Plates and the Urim and Thummim from Joseph.  He was told that if he repented, he might get the plates and the interpreters returned to him.  If so, it would take place on September 22^nd.  Joseph went through an excruciatingly agonizing time, humbled himself, repented, learned valuable lessons, and received the plates back again.  The angel told him that the Lord would send him a scribe.

Joseph began translating again with Emma acting as scribe.  It was slow going because Emma had housework and meals to worry about.  The process was too slow, so finally Joseph prayed and asked the Lord to send the scribe he’d been promised.

The Lord’s answer to the prayer was another stranger.  The stranger arrived three days later, on 5 April 1829.  Joseph spent the evening conversing with this man he’d never before met, and on the following day the two of them began translating.

The man’s name was Oliver Cowdery.  Oliver had taken a job as school teacher in Palmyra, was boarding at the home of Joseph’s parents, and heard about Joseph Smith, Jr. and the Golden Plates everywhere he turned.  He finally got Father Smith to tell him the whole story, and could think of nothing else from then on.  He determined to go see Joseph in Harmony, Pennsylvania, and offer his services as scribe.

There is a hand that governs the affairs of men.  The presence of the stranger on the stage was not accidental.  The facts that Oliver Cowdery prepared himself to be a teacher, that his first job was in Palmyra, that he boarded with Joseph and Lucy Mack Smith, and that he was consumed with a desire to be Joseph’s scribe were not accidents, either.  The Lord prepared Oliver for the job he was to do, and put him in the proper places at the proper times for him to accomplish his work.  Oliver wasn’t aware of the Lord’s guiding hand at the time; but in hindsight, the Lord’s influence and guidance were very evident.

Why are you and I where we are?  Why did we choose the vocations we did?  Why did we choose our particular spouses?  Why do we have our customized hardships?  Why do we have the children that we have?  We can’t normally see the Lord’s guiding hand while these choices and circumstances are happening; but things become clearer once we’ve climbed the mountain, and can look back and view where we’ve been.

Persecutions and intrigue began to swirl around Joseph and Oliver in Harmony.  One day as Joseph sat down with the Urim and Thummim to resume translating, instead of receiving the words of the Book, he received a commandment to write a letter to a man by the name of David Whitmer and request him to immediately come with his team, and take Joseph and Oliver to his own home near Fayette, New York because a plot was underway to kill Joseph.

David Whitmer was a complete stranger to Joseph.  Joseph, Sr. and Lucy Mack Smith had met the Whitmers when they’d stopped overnight at David Whitmer’s home eight months previous.  They’d given David a brief account of the Golden Plates and of Joseph, but Joseph Smith, Jr. and David had never met.

What a strange letter to receive!  Who was this man, and what was this strange business in which he was employed?  What an audacious request!  David was being asked to drop his busy spring work (it was May 1829), drive his team and wagon 135 miles to Pennsylvania, pick up two men and a woman, and being them back to his own home and lodge them there for an indeterminate time.

Would you do that?  Would you do that for a complete stranger?

David asked his father what he should do.  His father reminded him that he had as much wheat sown as he could harrow in two days, at least; and besides that, he had limestone to spread, which needed to be done immediately.  David’s father told him he’d better not go unless he could get a witness from God that the trip was necessary.

David took his father’s advice, and prayed about the matter.  The Spirit told him to go as soon as he got his wheat harrowed in.

The next morning David hitched his team to the harrow and began the job.  When he stopped for lunch and looked around at what he’d done, he was amazed to find that he’d harrowed half the field!  By evening he was finished, and had done two days’ work in one.

When David’s father saw what had been done, he said, “There must be an overruling hand in this, and I think you would better go down to Pennsylvania as soon as your plaster of paris is sown.”  (Ibid, pg. 148).

The next morning David went to his sister’s house where he’d left the plaster of paris (limestone) in piles.  It was gone!  He ran to his sister and asked what had become of it.  She said that her children had made her go out and see three men sowing plaster in the field the previous morning.  They’d never seen anyone sow plaster so fast in their lives.  She supposed that David had hired the men, but no one in the neighborhood was able to say who had done it.

David immediately set out for Pennsylvania.  He covered the 135 miles in two days—an astonishing feat for a team of horses pulling a wagon.

Who were the three strangers in the field?  No one knows.

How would you, as a woman, like it if two strange men and another woman moved into your already crowded house for an extended stay?  How would you like to have to cook for them and supply food and the necessities of life while they carried on some secret work in the back room that you couldn’t be party to?

These three strangers were guests of Mary Whitmer, David’s mother.  She didn’t complain.  She didn’t question.  She cooked and washed and cleaned and made her guests and family comfortable.  She sacrificed a great deal, and it became very burdensome.

It was at her house that the translation was completed.  It was near her house that her son, David, along with Oliver Cowdery and Martin Harris, were shown the plates by an angel.  It was near her house that Joseph was permitted to show eight others (four of them her sons) the Golden Plates.  Those eight were privileged to handle the plates and to turn the pages.  Counting Joseph, himself, there were twelve witnesses who saw the plates.

But there was a thirteenth.  One more person was permitted to see the plates, but unlike the other twelve, was not required to bear testimony to what was seen.  That thirteenth person was Mary Whitmer.  One day as she went to milk the cows the angel brought the plates to her and showed them in consequence of her sacrifice and service.  She had taken the strangers in and provided them a place of peace and refuge where the translation of the Book of Mormon could be completed.  She was shown the plates before the eleven witnesses were given the privilege.  The angel “told her to be patient and faithful in bearing her burden a little longer, promising that if she would do so, she should be blessed; and her reward would be sure.”

Following publication of the Book of Mormon the Church was organized in Mary Whitmer’s house.  The service that she rendered to these strangers enabled the publication of the Book of Mormon and the organization of the Church.  Her service brought great blessings to herself and family, and, I’m sure, will be eternally remembered by the Lord.

I’m intrigued in the scriptures by certain unnamed, behind-the-scenes, anonymous heroes.  Why did they do the things they did?  Their service made possible the very Atonement of the Savior.

There was the owner of the white foal that Jesus rode into Jerusalem—a colt that had never before been ridden.  Jesus told the disciples where to find the colt tied, and said that if anyone asked why they were taking him, to simply say, “The Lord hath need of him.”  (Matt. 21:1-7; Mark 11:1-7; Luke 19:29-36; John 12:12-16).  The disciples were caught in the act of untying the colt, and it was demanded of them, “What do ye?”  They answered, “The Lord hath need of him,” and the owner let them go.

Would you have let two strangers take your colt with no more explanation than that?  There wasn’t even a promise to return him.  The man knew something, or felt something, and had most certainly been prepared to have tied the white colt in that spot in the first place.  He probably couldn’t have said why he did what he did; but certainly he was responding to the Spirit, and was where he needed to be at the time he needed to be there.  His anonymous contribution to the Atonement was an act recorded by all four gospel writers, making that an almost singular event.  The prophet Zechariah prophesied to this man’s singular act over 500 years before it took place.  (Zech. 9:9).

Why do you do some of the things you do?  Why do you have the calling that you have?  Are you there by divine decree?  Are you close enough to the Spirit that you will be where you need to be, and be there when you need to be there, so that the Lord can use you to fulfill someone’s need?

Consider the mystery of the large upper room all furnished and ready where Jesus and His disciples would eat the Passover meal that came to be known as “the Last Supper.”  That unspoken-for room should not have been available.  Jerusalem was filled with visitors who were all there to observe the Passover.  They all needed to eat.  Every available room had long ago been reserved.  Yet Jesus sent Peter and John to prepare the Passover for at least 13 persons.  When they asked where they should go to do so, He told them to go into the city where they would meet a man bearing a pitcher of water.  Peter and John were to follow him, and when he entered a house, they were to say to the owner, “The Master saith unto thee, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the Passover with my disciples?  And he shall shew you a large upper room furnished.”  (Luke 22:7-13; Mark 14:12-17; Matt. 26:17-19).

Why was that room available?  Why did the goodman of the house save it?  Did the Spirit tell him to do it?  Did he have a dream?  Did he charge for its use?  I’ll bet that he didn’t.  Who was he?  This anonymous stranger made possible some critical elements of the Atonement.  It was in his room that the first sacrament was blessed and served.  It was in his room, and through his kindness, that Jesus ate His last meal in mortality.  Surely his acts will not go unrewarded.

Did he know that he was reserving this room for the Savior of mankind, and that his act would pave the way for the Atonement?

Probably not.

Are we aware of the implications in, and of the possible far-reaching effects of, our little kindnesses to perfect strangers? –Almost never.  Yet I could cite many examples where the look on the face of a silent missionary companion, a hug by a first-grade teacher, the act of a child sharing the sacrament with a non member, and a matter-of-fact, one-sentence statement have altered and completely changed the lives of people.  I was the recipient of one of those seemingly insignificant, but life-changing kindnesses.

“Let brotherly love continue.  Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:  for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

—4 May 2011