A Mission Accepted

The mindset that shapes Mitt Romney's candidacy was formed in 1968 during his mission in France: One does not merely strive for leadership; he is called to it through prayer and circumstance. (Courtesy Of Romney For President)

And then came an even scarier realization: As assistants to the mission president, Romney and McKinnon would be left in charge. This mess fell at their feet.

"We were young, and we were used to everyone else taking care of the hard part," McKinnon said. "Then it just crashed all around us. It's not like we had any choice. We had been called to serve."

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On a brisk fall morning last month, Romney embarked on a whirlwind campaign tour through South Carolina, because he believes that he has been called to serve again. Despite a long string of 14-hour days on the campaign trail, Romney had managed to wake up at 5 a.m. to squeeze in his customary three-mile jog. Then he shoveled down some of his wife's homemade granola and gave a short speech to supporters at a children's museum in Columbia, S.C. After almost an hour of post-speech handshakes and small talk, two aids ushered Romney out through a rear entrance and into the back seat of a large SUV.

Behind black-tinted windows, Romney rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt and smoothed wrinkles from his tie. The car rolled out of the parking lot, and Romney stared out the window. He had already spent about 50 days campaigning in South Carolina this year, adhering to a rigorous schedule that often kept him away from his wife of 38 years, his five sons and his 11 grandchildren. Today's afternoon engagement was in Myrtle Beach, but Romney had long ago stopped keeping track of his own schedule. When the car eventually came to a stop, he found himself parked in front of the Columbia airport.

"Oh," he said, visibly disappointed. "Are we flying somewhere?"

Romney doesn't particularly like all that running for president entails. He entered the race mainly because he had the opportunity to do so, he said, and it would have been irresponsible not to seize it. Mormonism instilled in him the desire to serve and the confidence to lead. And, ironically, Mormonism now presents perhaps his biggest obstacle to fulfilling those tenets.

Romney's success in winning the conservative vote depends largely on how he appeals to evangelicals, some of whom consider Mormonism a cult. During campaign events, Romney has tried to cast himself as a run-of-the-mill Christian. He tells voters that, like many folks, he believes Jesus is his savior and that the Bible is the word of God. He denounces his church's long-abandoned practice of polygamy and repeatedly asserts his firm belief in the separation of church and state. When asked about some of Mormonism's particulars -- the practice of baptizing the dead, the requirement to wear holy undergarments -- Romney defers questions to church leaders.

"There are some who would have a presidential candidate describe and explain his church's distinctive doctrines," he said last week in a speech at the George Bush Presidential Library that was designed to allay public misgivings about his Mormon faith. "To do so would enable the very religious test the founders prohibited in the Constitution. No candidate should become the spokesman for his faith. For if he becomes president, he will need the prayers of the people of all faiths."

His religious beliefs aren't the only reason that he has had trouble with evangelicals. Romney was elected governor of Massachusetts in 2002 as a moderate Republican who supported abortion and gay rights. In his run for the GOP presidential nomination, he has repositioned himself as a conservative who favors overturning Roe v. Wade and not allowing gays in the military. His transformation has left some voters with the impression that he is a politician of convenience, willing to say whatever is necessary to win an election.

Romney has tried to counteract that perception by talking, constantly, about values. His father, who was elected governor of Michigan in 1962, brought his mother, Lenore, a fresh-cut rose every day, and Romney has shaped himself in his father's image. On George's advice, Romney went on his Mormon mission, made money in business before entering politics and raised a family loyal to the Mormon church. Romney likes to say that he and his wife, Ann, "have been going steady since high school." His campaign centerpiece is to "strengthen the American family," and he offers up his own family -- from his deceased parents to his grandchildren -- as a worthy example.