Reason to Boast
(Acts 26:4-18)
If anyone had reason to boast, I did. I was born of the house of Israel, but then baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, an illustrious pedigree. I served a mission in Russia. I graduated first in my class from Brigham Young University’s law school. I was sealed for all eternity in the temple. My conversion story was featured in NPR and published in a book on conversion stories. I was well regarded among fellow Mormon apologists and defenders. I bore my testimony each month of Joseph Smith, the restoration, and that we were members of Jesus Christ’s one and only true Church led by living prophets and apostles. The members of my congregation looked upon me as an expert scriptorian, a teacher, and a leader. And I loved it. I thought that I would live and die a Latter-day Saint. I was all in.
Like Paul I went about valiantly trying to prove to myself and to others that I already had all the truth and was favored by God. I cried out against cheap grace. And I defended the need for additional covenants and ordinances to show my worthiness.
But God knew my pharisaical heart. He knew that I had gloried in myself and my own righteousness. He saw that my heart was filled with pride rather than worship. He saw that I had begun to worship idols—my Church, my forever family—rather than Him. He understood the anxiety in my soul that stole away my peace and hope in Christ.
In a blinding flash of light on my Damascus Road, God appeared to me. He showed me my emptiness and His holiness. I stood before God a wretched sinner, my white robes stained with my own wickedness. And I understood that my own righteousness would never get me into God’s presence. That all my striving and work could never bring me peace.
Like Paul the scales fell from my eyes. I had preached and testified and even baptized in the name of Christ. But I had not yet surrendered my whole self to Him. I had studied and taught God’s word, but never saw how all of God’s promises pointed irrevocably and completely towards Christ alone. I didn’t need a latter-day restoration or new scriptures or living oracles, only Christ—the great high priest who once and for all nailed my sins to the cross and declared that it was finished.
Like a man dying of thirst, I drank and drank and drank. Living waters filled my soul and I was born again: Indwelled with the Holy Spirit, I was given a new heart. Filled with gratitude rather than anxiety, I was able to rest in Christ alone for the first time.
I knew that I would lose friends, titles, and prestige. I would be looked at as mad by many that had once revered me in my former Church. But with Paul I understood “the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Anything I lost would be as worthless as garbage or dung compared with truly knowing Christ and being able to boast in him and his righteousness alone.