Elder Neal A. Maxwell dies at 78
A general authority of the church since 1974, Elder Maxwell was ordained as an apostle on July 23, 1981. Regarded by many LDS Church members as the faith's ultimate wordsmith, Elder Maxwell's public addresses—particularly those during the faith's semi-annual general conferences—included intricately crafted similes, metaphors and alliteration that cut to the core of the faith's most basic doctrines.
He was a prolific author, having written 30 books on religious topics, the most recent of which received a literary prize for LDS literature. His writings also included many articles on politics and government.
In recent years, church members became aware of his struggle with cancer, and he provided inspiration for many facing similar trials. He was diagnosed with leukemia in 1996. Though he preferred to focus on the message of his faith rather than his own illness, he told one group of cancer survivors that a "blessing" associated with his disease was the opportunity to order what is truly most important in life.
Many Latter-day Saints remember his appearance during the church's April 1997 General Conference, during his ongoing treatment for leukemia and were surprised to see him at the pulpit of the Tabernacle on Temple Square. Extensive chemotherapy treatments had left him bald, and he joked about bringing "some different 'illumination' to the pulpit."
No stranger to deep challenges, Elder Maxwell's 2002 biography chronicles several disappointments during his early years as a shy and retiring young boy. His failure to make the Granite High School basketball team, a bad case of acne, criticism of his writing ability and the fact that he raised pigs as a 4-H project made his early years a humbling time, though he would later express gratitude for the lessons he learned as a result.
"It may be that seeing some of these things and feeling them personally has given me an extra bit of compassion."
Although he felt ostracized during those years, he used the experiences as a springboard of caring, looking to see that others would feel valued and included. Those close to him observed his ability to pinpoint the shy person who hung back, unsure of how to become part of a group. If he saw someone leaving a chapel alone, he pursued them down the hallway.
"I don't want them to go away without shaking hands," he said. "I know what it's like to stand outside the circle."
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