On April 8, 1844, the final day of Joseph Smith’s last general conference, he excused himself from speaking because of the weakness of his lungs. After delivering a long doctrinal discourse to a massive outdoor audience in Nauvoo, Illinois, the afternoon before, he was exhausted. Nonetheless, he announced, “I have a proclamation” relating to Zion.
Though simple and direct, his proclamation, which he also called a “great and grand revelation,” presaged expansive future possibilities: “The whole of North and South America is Zion. The mountain of the Lord’s house is in the center of North and South America.”
He emphasized that finishing the Nauvoo Temple was the first responsibility of the Saints, but then, endowed with power from on high, the elders were to “build up stakes in all North and South America” — this at a time when the Nauvoo Stake was the only functioning stake of Zion.
For Brigham Young, this new vision of the scope of the Restoration was a perfect “sweepstakes," proving the Prophet true and the priesthood fit for every man and woman.
Although the Saints in Nauvoo finished the temple less than two years later, the imminent trek West demanded their full attention and resources.
In the West, the Church began another impressive temple that would draw Saints from far-off lands to that stake of Zion.
Through confrontation with the federal government followed by decades of pressure complicating outreach to the lands south of the U.S., President Young and his associates remembered Joseph’s last proclamation: Stakes of Zion would be established in all of North and South America.
To this President Young added his own vision of temples dotting the land, a vision, like Joseph’s, that his generation helped prepare for but did not live to see realized.
In our day, we see their vision fulfilled in dramatic fashion.
In the Central American country of El Salvador, smaller than its relatively small neighbors, there are today more Latter-day Saints — and more stakes — than in the entire Church when Brigham Young died in 1877.
Together the several countries of Central America now have more than seven times as many Latter-day Saints as President Young presided over.
Latin America broadly — Mexico, Central America and South America — has more than 50 times more Latter-day Saints than were in the Church in 1877.
With many others, I was privileged to serve in some of those countries when the Church was young there.
I witnessed families embracing the restored gospel of Jesus Christ throughout Central America when there were only 47 branches spread over six countries, nearly all meeting in rented buildings.
Today there are stakes and temples — four times as many temples than there were purpose-built chapels in 1965, when I served.
I have watched with satisfaction as the influence of the Restoration reached more and more families in the areas Joseph proclaimed in 1844 to be part of prophesied Zion.
However, nothing brought home to me the power and reach of the Restoration in “all of North and South America” as dramatically as did reading about the dedication of a temple in the high mountain town of Cobán in northern Guatemala.
In 1965, Cobán was perhaps the most remote and isolated of the 47 branches of the Central American Mission. My assignment in the mission office was to help oversee those branches scattered over six countries.
Dozens of branches and thousands of members were in cities where members and missionaries labored together in thriving organizations staffed with local leaders preparing soon, we expected, to become wards and stakes.
Cobán was not one of those. That small branch of Latter-day Saints, the fruits of earlier missionary efforts, functioned alone with only minimal contact with the mission and no missionaries serving there in summer 1965.
My last assignment as assistant to the mission president in Guatemala, before leaving the country to assist in setting up a new mission home in San Jose, Costa Rica, was a trip to that high, cold — compared to most areas of Guatemala — mountain town in “Indian country.”
Located in the mountains several hours’ bus ride north of mission headquarters in Guatemala City, Guatemala, Cobán was nestled in a valley surrounded by rainforest and lush landscapes. I retain vivid memories still of my only visit to that beautiful and promising place — but surely not the site for a temple.
Cobán was a small, isolated branch in a quaint colonial and Indigenous town.
Why I was sent there in July 1965 escapes me. If there was urgent business needing attention, memory and my journal contain no hint of it. More likely, Mission President Terryl Hansen sent me to reassure the faithful members, carrying on alone with no missionaries assigned to the city for more than a year, they had not been forgotten.
Why I was sent alone also escapes me. That just wasn’t done. But somehow this weekend, I was sent alone.
After reading with joy and amazement of the Cobán Guatemala Temple, I pulled out my mission journal to read about the weekend when I was the only missionary in the town.
I was impressed with the town and its people, with the Spirit and the strength of the small branch and those serving and attending there.
Branch President Morales, a shoemaker, impressed me most. Good people all. I loved the people of Guatemala City, too, where I foresaw great things, but the members of this small branch and the surrounding community impressed me deeply. I sensed future promise and potential.
I’m certain that upon my return to the mission home I urged President Hansen, who would remain to preside in Guatemala City, to put missionaries back in Cobán as soon as practical. The imminent mission split assigned 61 missionaries to serve in the four southern countries — Honduras, Costa Rica, Nicaragua and Panama — of the new San Jose Costa Rica Mission, leaving fewer than 100 for Guatemala and El Salvador.
Surely, as the mission headquartered in Guatemala City filled back up, missionaries were again soon sent to Cobán — and today we see the dramatic results.
That cold summer weekend among a special people in the mountains of Guatemala had given me a glimpse — but clearly only a glimpse — of the enormous promise of the city and its remarkable people.
The small beginning I observed in July 1965 provided a foundation for the Church in Cobán to develop in two generations from a small, isolated branch into multiple stakes with a mission headquarters — one of 19 where we had one — and a magnificent temple.
Ron Esplin’s mission journal
Here is my record of a weekend that I have never forgotten (edited to current Church News style):
Cobán, Guatemala | 1965 July 17 • Saturday
Today the first tangible evidence of the mission split: After seeing the [missionary] picture board for over two years, always full, it now has only 99 pictures. Ninety-nine stay and 61 go; my picture is no longer there. That feels kind of funny.
Tonight I am alone in a quaint little town called Cobán. ... A taxi dropped me off at a boarding house La Monja Blanca. I was doubtful at first, but I am comfortable now and no complaint about food.
After leaving my bag I continued down [the] street – by luck almost directly to the chapel. I knocked without much hope of finding anyone there. Happily enough a half-dozen youngsters were there for Primary, so I soon had a guide to the branch president’s house. I feel very impressed with the branch and the chapel. No missionaries have been in Cobán for over a year; no one from the Church has visited them for over three months; they have 100 members on record. The feeling, the atmosphere is impressive. Neatly kept and painted, the chapel hardly needed the beautiful flowers. They looked like leftovers from last week but still fresh in Cobán’s cool climate. There is a real difference between being in a little town in the desert heat and being in a cool village among the tops of the mountains surrounded by trees and jungle. One is not Lamanite, the other is; one feels like a punishment, the other a challenge and accomplishment. Four hours ago I was a stranger. Now I feel comfortable.
Cobán, Guatemala | 1965 July 18 • Sunday
The chapel was just full of fresh flowers this morning, very beautiful. About 25 people were present, but just one priesthood holder besides the branch president. Soon after the meeting began two men dressed in suits sat down in the back, and I thought: a few men at least. It turned out they were ministers from Church of the Nazarene. The program was nice; five women speakers introduced the theme. Under the direction of a 12-year-old girl, who apparently does most of the Primary work, the children had a number. There is a difference in being a speaker at a meeting and being the main speaker. The responsibility to leave something worthwhile is certainly multiplied. I hope I was able to.
President Morales is a shoemaker, and down here that means a slave to his work. We have in the Church here other shoemakers but I don’t know of any who work in the Church as he does. The members of Cobán all respect him very much. Two things the branch is going to do better with they say are to have visiting teachers among the sisters and have several older women help with the Primary.
I have spent several hours studying some Indian lessons I’ve received from the Navajo Mission. Some good material, but I am certain it can be better adapted to our needs and desires than used directly. I wish I had a couple of weeks to work on it as I would like to.
Cobán, Guatemala | 1965 July 19 • Monday
The last time I have slept eight hours in one night must have been months ago; so two good nights’ rest has surely felt good. And the food was OK, also; clean and a lot of it ($3 board and room daily) so it was a comfortable two days. Nonetheless, by this morning my purpose in coming had been fulfilled; I was ready to get back to the other many things I need to accomplish.
When I got to the Cobán airport they said that my reservation hadn’t come through, and since I hadn’t checked in the office in town, I wasn’t on the list. They already had three too many passengers. I really felt bad. I even offered to pay the $3 I would save in board and room to one of the townsfolk who might go tomorrow as well as today. No luck. I still don’t know just how or why, but after the plane arrived they wrote my name on the bottom of the list — the other extra passengers couldn’t come — and now I am in Guatemala [City]. I am very thankful that I didn’t have to lose a day.
President Morales showed me a little of Cobán this morning. The Indians there wore lighter clothing than several groups of people in the tropic regions. It would seem they had it backwards. In the afternoon, Cobán almost floats with all of the rain; but in the evening a warm sun illuminates a green paradise: everything from pines to palm trees. Beautiful pastureland, beautiful mountains, a beautiful country. The monja blanca, Guatemala’s national flower, is native to Cobán. Cobán is famous for her pure silver replicas of the monja blanca, and I bought some for the elders in the office and for myself.
— Ronald K. Esplin is a longtime historian for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
