Evan McGlinn for The New York Times

The Mormon Temple in Belmont, Mass. When initial plans in 1996 called for a larger structure, incensed neighbors filed suit. Mitt Romney tried to smooth relations between the church and the town.

BELMONT, Mass. — In ticking off his credentials on the campaign trail — management consultant, businessman, governor — Mitt Romney omits what may have been his most distinctive post: Mormon lay leader, offering pastoral guidance on all manner of human affairs from marriage to divorce, abortion, adoption, addiction, unemployment and even business disputes.

Bryce Clark was a recipient of Mr. Romney’s spiritual advice. Late one summer night in 1993, distraught over his descent into alcoholism and drug use, Mr. Clark, then a 19-year-old college student, decided to confess that he had strayed from his Mormon faith. So he drove through this well-heeled Boston suburb to Mr. Romney’s secluded seven-bedroom home.

As the highest-ranking Mormon leader in Boston, Mr. Romney was responsible for determining whether Mr. Clark was spiritually fit for a mission, a rite of passage for young Mormon men. Mr. Clark had previously lied to him, insisting that he was eligible to go. But instead of condemnation that night, Mr. Clark said, Mr. Romney offered counsel that the younger man has clung to for years.

“He told me that, as human beings, our work isn’t measured by taking the sum of our good deeds and the sum of our bad deeds and seeing how things even out,” recalled Mr. Clark, now 37, sober and working as a filmmaker in Utah. “He said, ‘The only thing you need to think about is: Are you trying to improve, are you trying to do better? And if you are, then you’re a saint.’ ”

That encounter with Mr. Clark provides a rare glimpse into the way Mr. Romney — now a Republican candidate for president — expresses his faith and exercised authority as a religious leader. From 1981 through 1994, he was a powerful figure in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which is run almost entirely by volunteers beyond its headquarters in Salt Lake City.

First as bishop of his own congregation, and later as Boston “stake president,” overseeing a region akin to a Roman Catholic diocese, he operated as clergyman, organization man and defender of the faith, guiding the church through a tumultuous period of rapid growth.

He confronted anti-Mormon sentiment and management challenges, supervising youth programs, the church’s social welfare system, missionary training and outreach to Hispanic, Portuguese and Southeast Asian converts, including Cambodian and Laotian refugees whose teenagers were joining the church in droves.

Later, when his official duties were complete, he contributed handsomely to the construction of the grand — and controversial — Boston Temple, high on a hilltop in Belmont, its steeple topped by a golden angel, just minutes from the Romney home. “Mitt’s Temple,” some local residents called it derisively.

Some Mormons, like Mr. Clark, found Mr. Romney thoughtful and compassionate; one mother recalled his kindness to her dying son. Others, including a group of Mormon feminists demanding a greater role for women, found him condescending, doctrinaire or just plain bossy. He clashed with a married mother of four who sought to terminate a pregnancy; the incident made news years later, when Mr. Romney ran for United States Senate as a supporter of abortion rights — a position he has since abandoned.

“Mitt is the type who liked to be called Bishop Romney or President Romney,” said Judy Dushku, a professor of government at Suffolk University in Boston and a Mormon feminist leader. “He is very conscious of his place in the hierarchy, but not yours.”

Mr. Romney declined to be interviewed for this article. Facing a primary electorate in which Christian conservatives are a powerful force, he is trying to keep his religion from becoming a barrier to his election. When his faith has become an issue — a Texas pastor supporting a rival candidate recently proclaimed Mormonism “a cult” — Mr. Romney has not offered a full-throated defense, but instead called for civility.

BELMONT, MASS. – In ticking off his credentials on the campaign trail — management consultant, businessman, governor — Mitt Romney omits what may have been his most distinctive post: Mormon lay leader, offering pastoral guidance on all manner of human affairs.

Bryce Clark was a recipient of Romney’s spiritual advice. Late one summer night in 1993, distraught over his descent into alcoholism and drug use, Clark, then a 19-year-old college student, decided to confess to Romney, the highest-ranking Mormon leader in Boston, that he had strayed from his Mormon faith.

Clark had previously lied to him. But instead of condemnation that night, Clark said, Romney offered counsel that the younger man has clung to for years. “He told me that, as human beings, our work isn’t measured by taking the sum of our good deeds and the sum of our bad deeds and seeing how things even out,” recalled Clark, now 37, sober and working as a filmmaker in Utah. “He said, ‘The only thing you need to think about is: Are you trying to improve, are you trying to do better? And if you are, then you’re a saint.'”

That encounter with Clark provides a rare glimpse into the way Romney — now a Republican candidate for president — expresses his faith and exercised authority as a religious leader. From 1981 through 1994, Romney was a powerful figure in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, first as bishop of his congregation and later as Boston “stake president,” overseeing a region akin to a Roman Catholic diocese.

Some Mormons, like Clark, found Romney thoughtful and compassionate. Others, including a group of Mormon feminists, found him condescending. “Mitt is the type who liked to be called Bishop Romney or President Romney,” said Judy Dushku, a government professor at Suffolk University in Boston and a Mormon feminist leader. “He is very conscious of his place in the hierarchy, but not yours.”

Romney declined to be interviewed for this article. Facing a primary electorate in which Christian conservatives are a powerful force, he is trying to keep his religion from becoming a barrier to his election. Tony Kimball, a close aide when Romney was stake president, said culture, rather than political calculus, may keep candidate Romney from talking about faith. “It’s kind of considered bad form by a lot of Mormons to wear it on your lapel,” he said, “and Mitt is not that way.”

GOP candidate Governor Rick Perry recently equated homosexuality with alcoholism and his wife Anita now claims they’ve been brutalized due to their faith.

Speaking at North Greenville University in South Carolina last Thursday, Anita said it’s been a rough month and she and her husband have “been brutalized and eaten up and chewed up in the press.”

According to Talking Points Memo, her 15-minutes long speech included many Biblical references.

“It is a comfort to know that I am in this place where I can feel the presence of God. We are being brutalized by our opponents, and our own party,” she said. “So much of that is, I think they look at him because of his faith.”

Mrs. Perry also told the audience God had called her husband and other “true conservatives” to run for president.

“We still feel called to do this,” Anita Perry said. “We didn’t have to do this. We are doing this because we want to do this. Because we want to save our children…we are fighting for the soul of our country.”

Watch a clip from her speech below. 

GOP candidate Governor Rick Perry recently equated homosexuality with alcoholism and his wife Anita now claims they’ve been brutalized due to their faith.

Speaking at North Greenville University in South Carolina last Thursday, Anita said it’s been a rough month and she and her husband have “been brutalized and eaten up and chewed up in the press.”

According to Talking Points Memo, her 15-minutes long speech included many Biblical references.

“It is a comfort to know that I am in this place where I can feel the presence of God. We are being brutalized by our opponents, and our own party,” she said. “So much of that is, I think they look at him because of his faith.”

Mrs. Perry also told the audience God had called her husband and other “true conservatives” to run for president.

“We still feel called to do this,” Anita Perry said. “We didn’t have to do this. We are doing this because we want to do this. Because we want to save our children…we are fighting for the soul of our country.”

Watch a clip from her speech below. 

Evan McGlinn for The New York Times

The Mormon Temple in Belmont, Mass. When initial plans in 1996 called for a larger structure, incensed neighbors filed suit. Mitt Romney tried to smooth relations between the church and the town.

BELMONT, Mass. — In ticking off his credentials on the campaign trail — management consultant, businessman, governor — Mitt Romney omits what may have been his most distinctive post: Mormon lay leader, offering pastoral guidance on all manner of human affairs from marriage to divorce, abortion, adoption, addiction, unemployment and even business disputes.

Bryce Clark was a recipient of Mr. Romney’s spiritual advice. Late one summer night in 1993, distraught over his descent into alcoholism and drug use, Mr. Clark, then a 19-year-old college student, decided to confess that he had strayed from his Mormon faith. So he drove through this well-heeled Boston suburb to Mr. Romney’s secluded seven-bedroom home.

As the highest-ranking Mormon leader in Boston, Mr. Romney was responsible for determining whether Mr. Clark was spiritually fit for a mission, a rite of passage for young Mormon men. Mr. Clark had previously lied to him, insisting that he was eligible to go. But instead of condemnation that night, Mr. Clark said, Mr. Romney offered counsel that the younger man has clung to for years.

“He told me that, as human beings, our work isn’t measured by taking the sum of our good deeds and the sum of our bad deeds and seeing how things even out,” recalled Mr. Clark, now 37, sober and working as a filmmaker in Utah. “He said, ‘The only thing you need to think about is: Are you trying to improve, are you trying to do better? And if you are, then you’re a saint.’ ”

That encounter with Mr. Clark provides a rare glimpse into the way Mr. Romney — now a Republican candidate for president — expresses his faith and exercised authority as a religious leader. From 1981 through 1994, he was a powerful figure in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which is run almost entirely by volunteers beyond its headquarters in Salt Lake City.

First as bishop of his own congregation, and later as Boston “stake president,” overseeing a region akin to a Roman Catholic diocese, he operated as clergyman, organization man and defender of the faith, guiding the church through a tumultuous period of rapid growth.

He confronted anti-Mormon sentiment and management challenges, supervising youth programs, the church’s social welfare system, missionary training and outreach to Hispanic, Portuguese and Southeast Asian converts, including Cambodian and Laotian refugees whose teenagers were joining the church in droves.

Later, when his official duties were complete, he contributed handsomely to the construction of the grand — and controversial — Boston Temple, high on a hilltop in Belmont, its steeple topped by a golden angel, just minutes from the Romney home. “Mitt’s Temple,” some local residents called it derisively.

Some Mormons, like Mr. Clark, found Mr. Romney thoughtful and compassionate; one mother recalled his kindness to her dying son. Others, including a group of Mormon feminists demanding a greater role for women, found him condescending, doctrinaire or just plain bossy. He clashed with a married mother of four who sought to terminate a pregnancy; the incident made news years later, when Mr. Romney ran for United States Senate as a supporter of abortion rights — a position he has since abandoned.

“Mitt is the type who liked to be called Bishop Romney or President Romney,” said Judy Dushku, a professor of government at Suffolk University in Boston and a Mormon feminist leader. “He is very conscious of his place in the hierarchy, but not yours.”

Mr. Romney declined to be interviewed for this article. Facing a primary electorate in which Christian conservatives are a powerful force, he is trying to keep his religion from becoming a barrier to his election. When his faith has become an issue — a Texas pastor supporting a rival candidate recently proclaimed Mormonism “a cult” — Mr. Romney has not offered a full-throated defense, but instead called for civility.

Evan McGlinn for The New York Times

The Mormon Temple in Belmont, Mass. When initial plans in 1996 called for a larger structure, incensed neighbors filed suit.

BELMONT, Mass. — In ticking off his credentials on the campaign trail — management consultant, businessman, governor — Mitt Romney omits what may have been his most distinctive post: Mormon lay leader, offering pastoral guidance on all manner of human affairs from marriage to divorce, abortion, adoption, addiction, unemployment and even business disputes.

Bryce Clark was a recipient of Mr. Romney’s spiritual advice. Late one summer night in 1993, distraught over his descent into alcoholism and drug use, Mr. Clark, then a 19-year-old college student, decided to confess that he had strayed from his Mormon faith. So he drove through this well-heeled Boston suburb to Mr. Romney’s secluded seven-bedroom home.

As the highest-ranking Mormon leader in Boston, Mr. Romney was responsible for determining whether Mr. Clark was spiritually fit for a mission, a rite of passage for young Mormon men. Mr. Clark had previously lied to him, insisting that he was eligible to go. But instead of condemnation that night, Mr. Clark said, Mr. Romney offered counsel that the younger man has clung to for years.

“He told me that, as human beings, our work isn’t measured by taking the sum of our good deeds and the sum of our bad deeds and seeing how things even out,” recalled Mr. Clark, now 37, sober and working as a filmmaker in Utah. “He said, ‘The only thing you need to think about is: Are you trying to improve, are you trying to do better? And if you are, then you’re a saint.’ ”

That encounter with Mr. Clark provides a rare glimpse into the way Mr. Romney — now a Republican candidate for president — expresses his faith and exercised authority as a religious leader. From 1981 through 1994, he was a powerful figure in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which is run almost entirely by volunteers beyond its headquarters in Salt Lake City.

First as bishop of his own congregation, and later as Boston “stake president,” overseeing a region akin to a Roman Catholic diocese, he operated as clergyman, organization man and defender of the faith, guiding the church through a tumultuous period of rapid growth.

He confronted anti-Mormon sentiment and management challenges, supervising youth programs, the church’s social welfare system, missionary training and outreach to Hispanic, Portuguese and Southeast Asian converts, including Cambodian and Laotian refugees whose teenagers were joining the church in droves.

Later, when his official duties were complete, he contributed handsomely to the construction of the grand — and controversial — Boston Temple, high on a hilltop in Belmont, its steeple topped by a golden angel, just minutes from the Romney home. “Mitt’s Temple,” some local residents called it derisively.

Some Mormons, like Mr. Clark, found Mr. Romney thoughtful and compassionate; one mother recalled his kindness to her dying son. Others, including a group of Mormon feminists demanding a greater role for women, found him condescending, doctrinaire or just plain bossy. He clashed with a married mother of four who sought to terminate a pregnancy; the incident made news years later, when Mr. Romney ran for United States Senate as a supporter of abortion rights — a position he has since abandoned.

“Mitt is the type who liked to be called Bishop Romney or President Romney,” said Judy Dushku, a professor of government at Suffolk University in Boston and a Mormon feminist leader. “He is very conscious of his place in the hierarchy, but not yours.”

Mr. Romney declined to be interviewed for this article. Facing a primary electorate in which Christian conservatives are a powerful force, he is trying to keep his religion from becoming a barrier to his election. When his faith has become an issue — a Texas pastor supporting a rival candidate recently proclaimed Mormonism “a cult” — Mr. Romney has not offered a full-throated defense, but instead called for civility.

ORANGE — An excerpt from Scientific American magazine tells us something that most of us are already aware.

It says, For most people, boredom is a passing, nearly trivial feeling that lifts as soon as your number is called, a task is completed or a lecture ends. But boredom has a darker side: Easily bored people are at higher risk for depression, anxiety, drug addiction, alcoholism, compulsive gambling, eating disorders, hostility, anger, poor social skills, bad grades and low work performance. Men, for example, are generally more bored than women.

The question is not IF we will be bored but more about WHEN and HOW LONG it will last, and most importantly, what effect it will have upon our actions, response to work issues, home issues and life issues in general. Some of the dangers or enumerated in the paragraph above.

I think it is fair to say that even the most spiritually minded man or woman among us (if totally honest) would say they have, from time to time, experienced being bored. However, I must say I have met a few (a very few) who have said they are never discouraged or bored for any reason.

Theologian and author A.W. Tozer writes: there is certainly much boredom in religion these days. The businessman on a Sunday morning whose mind is on golf can scarcely disguise his lack of interest in the sermon he is compelled to hear. The housewife who is unacquainted with the learned theological or philosophical jargon of the speaker; the young couple who feel a tingle of love for each other but who neither love nor know the One about whom the choir is singing” these cannot escape the low-grade mental pain we call boredom while they struggle to keep their attention focused upon the service (Man-The Dwelling Place of God).

There are no simple solutions. The Christian, however, has remedies that are unavailable to  anyone else. For example: And God’s peace [shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace] which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7 Amplified).

For further edification please read: Isaiah 26:3; Romans 12:2; Colossians 3:15; Philippians 4:13

Two questions asked during a regular pediatrician’s visit could help identify youth with drinking problems, according to a national expert group convened by the National Institute on Alcoholism and Alcohol Abuse (NIAAA), which just released guidelines for alcohol screening and treatment.

Despite the national drinking age of 21, about 7% of American 12-year-olds have had more than the odd sip of an alcoholic beverage. By age 18, that proportion rises to 70%. Children who start drinking before age 15 — outside of culturally appropriate settings like religious ceremonies or family meals in wine-drinking cultures — are four times more likely to develop alcoholism than those who start later.

While early deviant drinking doesn’t necessarily lead to alcoholism, it indicates that the young person may be at high risk for alcohol problems and other psychiatric disorders, and may benefit from early treatment.

MORE: Status: Drunk. Can Facebook Help ID Problem Drinkers?

The questions pediatricians should ask according to the NIAAA are these, with wording varied to be age-appropriate:

Do you have any friends who drank beer, wine or any drink containing alcohol in the past year?

How about you — in the past year, on how many days have you had more than a few sips of beer, wine or any drink containing alcohol?

Screening is obviously best done when parents are not present and after the child has been informed about the doctor’s confidentiality policy. Typically, pediatricians keep the information confidential unless the child is at immediate risk for alcohol-related harm by engaging in activities like daily drinking or drinking and driving.

The question about friends’ drinking tends to predict future alcohol use. If the child answers yes to it but no to the second one, the doctor may commend the child for avoiding alcohol, discuss risks of drinking and ways they can avoid drinking if their friends continue to do so.

If the child admits to drinking, the NIAAA’s guide offers doctors information about the level of risk associated with various amounts of drinking at specific ages, as well as guidance on performing what’s known as a “brief motivational intervention” to help the person quit or at least cut back to less risky levels of drinking.

Brief interventions involve “meeting people where they’re at,” rather than demanding immediate abstinence or entry into intensive treatment. During a brief intervention — which literally takes 15 minutes or less —  the doctor discusses reducing or eliminating risky behavior and ways this might be achieved.

MORE: How Teen Dating Influences Teen Drinking

Importantly, however, the focus is on the patient’s goals and desires. The doctor tries to help patients find their own reasons for choosing healthier behavior and then support them, rather than demanding change or “confronting denial.” Follow-up appointments are made to discuss progress, sometimes combined with other medical follow-up appointments if the child does not want to disclose a low-level problem to parents.

Surprisingly, given how short these interventions are, they have been shown to be as effective as more intensive treatment for reducing teen alcohol use. They carry little expense and none of the risk of exposing teens to more deviant peers that can come with group treatment for substance use problems.

If teens are found to have ongoing problems or are engaging in potentially life-threatening behavior like drinking and driving, the NIAAA guide offers parents and doctors referral advice to find the best care, including more intensive treatment.

MORE: How to Find the Best Drug Treatment for Teens: A Guide for Parents

“We know that alcohol is by far the drug of choice among youth,” said NIAAA acting director Kenneth Warren in a statement. “Underage drinking is also a marker for other unhealthy behaviors and it often goes undetected. This new tool was designed to allow busy practitioners who manage the health and well-being of children and adolescents to conduct fast, effective alcohol screens and brief interventions.”

Unfortunately, actually getting doctors to incorporate screening into their practice may prove difficult, given demands on their time. An NIAAA study of 4,000 adult patients found that while 49% were asked about their drinking, only 14% of those whose alcohol use exceeded healthy levels were counseled about it by their doctors in their most recent visit.

The NIAAA alcohol screening and intervention guide for youth can be found here.

MORE: Does Teen Drug Rehab Cure Addiction or Create It?

Maia Szalavitz is a health writer at TIME.com. Find her on Twitter at @maiasz. You can also continue the discussion on TIME Healthland’s Facebook page and on Twitter at @TIMEHealthland.

Evan McGlinn for The New York Times

The Mormon Temple in Belmont, Mass. When initial plans in 1996 called for a larger structure, incensed neighbors filed suit. Mitt Romney tried to smooth relations between the church and the town.

BELMONT, Mass. — In ticking off his credentials on the campaign trail — management consultant, businessman, governor — Mitt Romney omits what may have been his most distinctive post: Mormon lay leader, offering pastoral guidance on all manner of human affairs from marriage to divorce, abortion, adoption, addiction, unemployment and even business disputes.

Bryce Clark was a recipient of Mr. Romney’s spiritual advice. Late one summer night in 1993, distraught over his descent into alcoholism and drug use, Mr. Clark, then a 19-year-old college student, decided to confess that he had strayed from his Mormon faith. So he drove through this well-heeled Boston suburb to Mr. Romney’s secluded seven-bedroom home.

As the highest-ranking Mormon leader in Boston, Mr. Romney was responsible for determining whether Mr. Clark was spiritually fit for a mission, a rite of passage for young Mormon men. Mr. Clark had previously lied to him, insisting that he was eligible to go. But instead of condemnation that night, Mr. Clark said, Mr. Romney offered counsel that the younger man has clung to for years.

“He told me that, as human beings, our work isn’t measured by taking the sum of our good deeds and the sum of our bad deeds and seeing how things even out,” recalled Mr. Clark, now 37, sober and working as a filmmaker in Utah. “He said, ‘The only thing you need to think about is: Are you trying to improve, are you trying to do better? And if you are, then you’re a saint.’ ”

That encounter with Mr. Clark provides a rare glimpse into the way Mr. Romney — now a Republican candidate for president — expresses his faith and exercised authority as a religious leader. From 1981 through 1994, he was a powerful figure in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which is run almost entirely by volunteers beyond its headquarters in Salt Lake City.

First as bishop of his own congregation, and later as Boston “stake president,” overseeing a region akin to a Roman Catholic diocese, he operated as clergyman, organization man and defender of the faith, guiding the church through a tumultuous period of rapid growth.

He confronted anti-Mormon sentiment and management challenges, supervising youth programs, the church’s social welfare system, missionary training and outreach to Hispanic, Portuguese and Southeast Asian converts, including Cambodian and Laotian refugees whose teenagers were joining the church in droves.

Later, when his official duties were complete, he contributed handsomely to the construction of the grand — and controversial — Boston Temple, high on a hilltop in Belmont, its steeple topped by a golden angel, just minutes from the Romney home. “Mitt’s Temple,” some local residents called it derisively.

Some Mormons, like Mr. Clark, found Mr. Romney thoughtful and compassionate; one mother recalled his kindness to her dying son. Others, including a group of Mormon feminists demanding a greater role for women, found him condescending, doctrinaire or just plain bossy. He clashed with a married mother of four who sought to terminate a pregnancy; the incident made news years later, when Mr. Romney ran for United States Senate as a supporter of abortion rights — a position he has since abandoned.

“Mitt is the type who liked to be called Bishop Romney or President Romney,” said Judy Dushku, a professor of government at Suffolk University in Boston and a Mormon feminist leader. “He is very conscious of his place in the hierarchy, but not yours.”

Mr. Romney declined to be interviewed for this article. Facing a primary electorate in which Christian conservatives are a powerful force, he is trying to keep his religion from becoming a barrier to his election. When his faith has become an issue — a Texas pastor supporting a rival candidate recently proclaimed Mormonism “a cult” — Mr. Romney has not offered a full-throated defense, but instead called for civility.