Senior Saint Spins Scintillating Stories, Stirring Spiritual Strength

The order of the speakers in General Conference almost always add an interesting element of interpretation to the talks, and the pair of cardiothoracic surgeons who spoke one after the other proved no different.  Upon hearing the woeful tale of the demise of Elder Renlund's young heart patient Chad, participants were given but a few short verses of "How Firm a Foundation" before President Russel M. Nelson took his place at the pulpit.

President Nelson has long been characterized by his predominantly jagged, avian-like features, which juxtapose nicely his warm, inviting smile and tone.  When he speaks of levity, he elevates this tone: When his topic is something of a grave matter, he drops to almost nothing, occasionally finishing his sentences with brief aposiopesis (Pauses brought about by oncoming waves of emotion), evoking powerful pathological connections with his listeners.

His talk began as an encomium, of sorts, of the deceased apostles (whose replacements had finished speaking only a few chords prior), and he established his ethos largely through his personal stories about each of their lives and passings.  Emotional pauses were aplenty as he described vividly the experiences of each surviving wife, and a picture of Sister Packer and her late husband were even thrown in for good measure.

Perhaps the most powerful persuasive moment, however, occurred as he shared his experience in losing not one, but two of his patients on the operating table: the two patients being sisters, and the third child lost to those parents.  Given Elder Renlund's emotional conveyance of a similar story only moments prior, the audience's fresh wounds were opened, and the impact of both stories hit as President Nelson described himself lying on the living room floor, completely inconsolable.  In this moment, President Nelson became so human- so relatable, despite the difference in years and knowledge between us. This ecphrasis made me want to do whatever it was he asked: and he made sure to ask, using his wife's response as a means of telling women to "speak up and speak out."

All in all, President Nelson provided a well-articulated experience showcasing many of the powers of rhetoric.  While I didn't largely notice his logos, that could well be due to its lack of impact on me; it's a lot easier to analyze what I personally connect with.