Blood Atonement and Warren Jeffs
Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2008 8:11 pm
Of all the things I've learned about the early LDS church, the thing that creeps me out the most is the doctrine of blood atonement and the Reformation period. I first learned about this when I read Will Bagley's "Blood of the Prophets." After someone was "blood atoned" the people would say that "the Indians got them."
This blood atonement thing bothers me more than anything else I have learned.
Carolyn Jessop says that Warren Jeffs started preaching blood atonement when he came into power. She said that until his time she had never heard blood atonement preached among the FLDS. Warren said that blood atonement was one of the few ordinances that were so sacred they had to be performed inside of a temple. Rumors have circulated that the big white temple they built in Texas has an incinerator in it. I don't know if that is true or not, but when I see their big temple it sends chills down my spine. I imagine if the law hadn't caught up to Warren Jeffs when it did, he might be practicing the "sacred ordinance" of blood atonement in Texas.
I have a pioneer ancestor who wrote her life story. Her family helped settle St. George. One of my favorite stories of hers is how she hid in a dresser drawer when the indians came. After learning about blood atonement, this story took on a whole new sinister meaning to me:
I wonder if Whitmore was an apostate?
This blood atonement thing bothers me more than anything else I have learned.
Carolyn Jessop says that Warren Jeffs started preaching blood atonement when he came into power. She said that until his time she had never heard blood atonement preached among the FLDS. Warren said that blood atonement was one of the few ordinances that were so sacred they had to be performed inside of a temple. Rumors have circulated that the big white temple they built in Texas has an incinerator in it. I don't know if that is true or not, but when I see their big temple it sends chills down my spine. I imagine if the law hadn't caught up to Warren Jeffs when it did, he might be practicing the "sacred ordinance" of blood atonement in Texas.
I have a pioneer ancestor who wrote her life story. Her family helped settle St. George. One of my favorite stories of hers is how she hid in a dresser drawer when the indians came. After learning about blood atonement, this story took on a whole new sinister meaning to me:
In early pioneer days in Dixie, the Piute Indians were thick. Some of them were on the war path, especially two of them, old Iron jacket and Limpy. I was firghtened out of my wits; many of them came to our home and every home to beg. We shared with them as much as we could. President Young taught the Saints to be kind to them. I wasn't afraid of any but those two.
Mother had a large home-made dresser, the lower drawer was extra large, and I could lie in it and curl up my legs. When either of those mentioned came, I would run and climb into the drawer. Just across the street was a man, Whitmore by name, who had just been killed by the Indians. These two had something in a small way to do with it. I can't remember much about the affair.
One day I was alone and Old Limpy came; he walked with a stick. When I saw him coming I ran and got into my hiding place. He saw me run in. I was small and forgot to shut the door and didn't have sense to lock it. In my mind I was safe, no Indian could find me. I watched him come to the door, then inside, then towards the dresser. .. He raised his stick and laughed as hard as he could and poked me with his stick and said, "Papoose heap scared. Me heap hungry, Papoose get shad cup, me no hurt Papoose." The Indians always used the word "shad cup" when they came to the door to beg. When we gave them bread they would leave. I lay for a minute too scared to move, too scared to pray, forgot everything, but I knew I was alone. I thought I would die when he took my hand, pulled me out, and let me to the kitchen and repeated, "Me no hurt Papoose, me hungry, bread." I got him a good sized slice of bread and molasses. He took it, laughed and said, "Good Papoose, me no hurt Pappoose." and was gone. I never was afraid of them any more and that was the last time I hid in the dresser.
I wonder if Whitmore was an apostate?