Question
Gramps,
This may seem like a basic question, but why do we address each other at church as “Brother Jones” or “Sister Brown”? Would it be more friendly to say “Brother James” or “Sister Mary?”
Janet
Answer
Janet,
In the earliest days of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, spiritual equality was embedded in the very fabric of community life. Historical records show that early members addressed one another as “Brother Joseph” and “Brother Brigham”—using first names to reinforce a sense of spiritual kinship and familiarity. This familial language signaled that, regardless of background or personal achievements, members were united as brothers and sisters in faith.
Michael Austin, writing for By Common Consent, notes,
These forms of address functioned very differently in the early Church. The ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ forms of address were designed to go with first names, to enhance the familiarity. Among adults in our culture, the use of a first name implies friendship and intimacy, and the addition of ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ enhances the intimacy by extending our sense of family into the friendship.”
Even in the revelations given to Joseph Smith about the “School of the Prophets,” a deep equal spirit shines through. Instructions directed that “he that cometh in and is faithful before me, and is a brother, or if they be brethren, they shall salute the president or teacher with uplifted hands to heaven…” Members would pray together, extending this form of brotherly address as a symbol of spiritual cleanliness and unity in the house of the Lord.
This language extended beyond spiritual ceremony and permeated everyday conversation in the young Church. It expressed a radical idea: the Saints were not just fellow parishioners but members of an extended covenant family, bound by spiritual ties that transcended biological kinship.
Over time, however, this warmth of address began to cool. As the Church grew in size and structure, the ways members addressed each other shifted. Instead of “Brother Brigham,” it gradually became “Brother Young.” Instead of “Sister Eliza,” it became “Sister Snow.”
Why this shift? According to Austin:
When we use the ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ title with a last name, we increase the formality and decrease the sense of kinship. ‘Brother Austin’ is a much more formal way to address me than just ‘Mike.’ It creates a distance, signals an institutional connection rather than a personal one, and (because family connections are usually identified through a last name) emphasizes the fictive nature of our kinship rather than the kinship itself.
The move toward last names coincided with the growth of ecclesiastical organization and an increasing desire to clarify roles and maintain propriety in a rapidly changing religious society. As the Saints dispersed across the West and later the world, these language conventions helped provide boundaries and signposts in a much larger and more complex community.
This formalizing tendency, however, is not without controversy. Some argue it brings necessary respect and order; others feel it loses the intimacy that once defined the faith’s earliest days. This tension remains at the heart of how Church members relate to each other today.
As the Church’s organizational structure became more elaborate, additional titles—“President,” “Elder,” “Bishop,” “Sister”—entered the Saints’ daily language, especially with the restoration and development of priesthood offices and women’s auxiliaries.
One of the most distinct titles in current usage is “President,” as in “President Nelson,” “President Oaks,” or “President Eyring.” Why use this secular-sounding designation rather than “Prophet” or “Apostle”?
The First Presidency is the highest presiding authority on earth. As a quorum, these three men hold and exercise the keys of the kingdom and ultimately make the decisions that guide the Church. Since they preside over all other quorums on the earth, including the Quorum of Twelve Apostles, each of them can appropriately be called ‘President.’ Note that the members of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles are not called by the title ‘Apostle,’ but by that of ‘Elder.’ Any General Authority… may be appropriately addressed as ‘Elder’ or ‘Brother.
The use of “President” is thus less about lauding status—and more about recognizing function: someone who presides. The President of the Church is first among equals. When members speak of “President Nelson,” they are recognizing his presiding role, as opposed to an honorific or title of personal greatness.
Church missionaries—both male and female—are addressed as “Elder” or “Sister” followed by their last name. This title, both venerable and unique, sets these representatives apart as spiritual emissaries. These designations, echoing scriptural traditions, remind both the missionaries and those they serve of their sacred calling.
Just as the term ‘Elder’ sets the missionary apart, so does the term ‘Sister.’ I fear the person who considers ‘Sister’ a disrespectful title. Do these sound like ‘lesser’ members to you? We have powerful, leading women in our organizations and in our own families. These women are pillars in our congregations and a blessing to the saints. I thank God for them.
This language emphasizes two ideas: first, that both men and women can be set apart for special service; and second, the Church strives (though imperfectly) to balance authority with inclusion, even as it retains traditional gender distinctions in roles and responsibilities.
While the family-centered address of “Brother” and “Sister” is intended to foster kinship, the designation can unintentionally morph into status symbols. Scholar Hugh Nibley cautioned against allowing offices or titles to become objects of aspiration, cautioning that “personal feelings of friendship and association ought to sink into comparative insignificance and have no force in view of consequences so momentous to the people of the kingdom of God.” He warned against “the tendency to form exclusive groups and cliques, as bestowing prestige and influence,” and observed that “Martin Harris and others actually left the Church because their services were not recognized by high office.”
In Nibley’s reading, gifts of the Spirit—not office or title—are what truly bestow spiritual power and unity. He argued that “we are told repeatedly both to ask for gifts and seek for gifts… On the other hand, we are commanded not to ask for or seek for office. Yet nobody seems particularly interested in asking or seeking for gifts, while men constantly plan, scheme, and aspire to office.”
Language also plays a subtle role in shaping gender expectations. In Sunday meetings, sisters preside over their own organizations and are addressed as “Sister,” just as men are called “Brother.” There are, of course, differences—“Elder” is reserved for priesthood holders, “President” typically for those presiding over certain organizations, and “Sister” remains the only common ecclesiastical title for women apart from “President” as head of Relief Society or Primary.
Some have questioned whether these conventions unintentionally perpetuate inequality. But Church leaders have reaffirmed, in both word and practice, core principles of equality and partnership. Scriptural admonitions—that husbands love their wives as themselves, and that men who “abuse his wife…is unworthy to hold the priesthood”—make clear that unrighteous dominion is strictly against Church doctrine.
This living, evolving language reflects a constant negotiation between old informality and new structure, between kinship and authority, and between charity and aspiration. Members today navigate these subtleties every time they send an email, stand at a pulpit, or greet a neighbor at church.
Gramps
