It isn’t easy to avoid sounding defensive when things we love are belittled. This applies also to critiques of the Brethren themselves. Personally, I view habitual criticism of the Brethren as one of the most pernicious of pastimes, so let me spend a moment on this. I will use the term “Brethren” here because this is an LDS audience and you all know what that term usually means — the general authorities of the Church, and in particular the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles. I try to avoid that term when talking to secular media because it sounds strange, even antiquated, to non-LDS ears, and I generally opt instead for the term “Church leadership.”
If memory serves, I think the first time I encountered an accusing finger pointed at the Brethren was from an English journalist who I’d invited to meet with a visiting apostle while I was managing the Church’s London public affairs office. He asked how we could justify leaders of the Church flying trans-Atlantic jets when Jesus used a donkey. My response to him was that as soon as they invent a trans-Atlantic donkey we would be happy to use it. That may not have been original — I can no longer remember whether I borrowed it from something I’d heard — but it did seem to address the absurdity of the question. I can hardly believe it when I hear people question the motives of the Brethren for the work they do, or when they imply there is somehow some monetary reward or motive.
Let me share the reality. Not all the Brethren have been businessmen, but most have had extraordinarily successful careers by the time they are called to be an apostle. As President Spencer W. Kimball once pointed out, the ability to lead people and an organization is a more-than-helpful attribute in a Church of millions of people, especially when combined with spiritual depth and a rich understanding of the gospel. Because several have been highly successful in business careers, when they become apostles their stipend and allowances may literally be less than a tithe on what they previously earned.
Some of the Brethren have been educators. Elder Scott was a nuclear physicist, Elder Nelson a heart surgeon. Several were highly successful lawyers. Right now we have three former university presidents in the Twelve. President Boyd K. Packer was also an educator by profession, although in his spare time and in his earlier days he loved to carve beautiful things out of wood. That sounds curiously related to another scripturally honored profession — that of a carpenter.
Can you imagine what it would be like to be called to the Twelve? In most cases you have already had a successful career. You know you will continue to serve the Church in some volunteer capacity, but you have begun to think of your future retirement. The First Presidency and the Twelve, of course, do not retire. Neither are they released. With their call comes the sure knowledge that they will work every day for the rest of their lives, even if they live into their 90s, until they literally drop and their minds and bodies give out. Their workday begins early and does not end at 5:00 p.m. The Twelve get Mondays off, and those Mondays are frequently spent preparing for the rest of the week. If they have a weekend assignment, they will often travel on a Friday afternoon. Periodically, even though in their 80s, they face the grueling schedule of international speaking conferences and leadership responsibilities.
What about when they are home? I have the cell phone numbers of most of the Brethren because I sometimes have to call them in the evening, on weekends or when they are out and about. I’m not naïve enough to think that I am the only Church officer to do so. So even their downtime is peppered with interruptions. I invariably begin those calls by apologizing for interrupting them at home. I have never once been rebuked for calling. They are invariably kind and reassuring, even early in the morning or late at night.
Their primary time off each year is from the end of the mission presidents’ seminar at the very end of June through the end of July. And while this time is meant as a break, most of the Brethren use this time to turn their thoughts, among other things, to October general conference and preparation of their remarks. During Christmas break they do the same for April conference. Every one of them takes extraordinary care and time in deciding on a topic and crafting their messages. The process weighs on them for months as they refine draft after draft.
This is not a schedule you would wish on anyone. Yet they bear it with grace and find joy for some overwhelmingly important reasons — their testimony and commitment to be a witness of the Savior of the world and their desire to strengthen His children everywhere. They would be the very first to acknowledge their own faults or failings, just as we can readily point to the apostles of the New Testament and see imperfect people.
As I read the Gospels and the book of Acts, or the various letters written by the apostles to the various groups of members scattered throughout the Mediterranean area, I get a glimpse of extraordinary men — men with individual faults, certainly. Yet I choose not to view Peter through a critical lens that dwells on the impetuous elements of his nature or as the wavering soul who failed to affirm he knew the Christ. I see him more in the winter of his life, having weathered trials and storms to become one of the towering figures of biblical history, whose name and accomplishments have endured for two millennia. The same can be said for many others of the ancient apostles, perhaps especially Paul, whose life transformed him from persecutor to persecuted. And so today, because my testimony tells me that the gospel has been restored, I see the senior Brethren in the same way. Yes, they are individual, mortal men, but the Lord has given them, not me, the mantle to lead the Church and make the tough decisions. I am not lionizing the Brethren. I am not over-awed because I have shaken the hand of an apostle. But I do sustain them with all my heart, and I have a quiet and reassuring confidence born of personal experience and exposure to their councils that the Church is in good hands.
