The Mystery of Righteousness

A Few Words Over the Pulpit on Father's Day

I once knew a man who was born and raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints but came from a broken home. He had a loving, devout mother, but there was no man of God at the head of that household. Their husband and father had chosen to break sacred covenants and remove himself from their lives. Thus, from his infancy this young man had no father to put a loving arm around him, guide and teach him.  As he entered young manhood, he became more than his good mother could manage. Falling in with questionable friends, he began to engage in behavior that departed from his mother's counsel and ran contrary to what he had been taught down the street every Sunday morning in Mormon Sunday school.  On the threshold of adulthood, he was an undisciplined, lazy, unfocused, dishonest, irreverent rascal. 

At that critical, pivotal moment in his life, with his childhood and frivolous early youth behind him, when the profound flaws in his character might have begun to have deadly and irretrievable consequences in his life, he was stopped in his tracks by a stunning confrontation with the love and power of God, a miraculous, transforming encounter that had no less impact upon him than did St. Paul's experience on the road to Damascus or Alma the Younger's confrontation with an angel of God whose voice shook the earth and called a halt to Alma's trouble-making. These experiences transformed both Paul and Alma and set them on new paths in life. 

So it was with this man. Though the circumstances were different, he knew he had by miraculous means been in the presence of God, had experienced the love of God, been spoken to, admonished and promised a new life - "a whole new day will be yours, for you will come under the redeeming power of Jesus Christ". 

From that transforming moment of spiritual rebirth, he knew he had a father, a Father in Heaven, who knew him, loved him, had a purpose for his life and had the power and intention to communicate with him. He knew he had experienced that "mighty change of heart" spoken of in scripture. He had a new heart and new desires. 

Keenly aware of his unworthiness, he was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the undeserved gift that had been given him and felt from that moment a determination never to betray or disappoint the Giver of that sweet gift. He looked forward joyously to moving ahead into the bright new day that had been promised him.

But the plot thickens...

Consequent to this marvelous manifestation, he, not surprisingly, felt heavily upon him the obligation to live a godly life in obedience to all the commandments of God. Surely someone who had received such a marvelous manifestation should be able to live as God requires, should he not? But, in the years that followed, instead of sailing gloriously on into that bright day of perfect obedience, he found himself humiliated and embarrassed before the Lord, repeatedly falling short, continually failing to live up to the standard of behavior the commandments of God and the Spirit of God required. 

As hard as he tried, it seemed a godly demeanor was beyond his reach. He longed for it, struggled for it and was determined never to give up the fight to achieve it. During those days he thought no words better expressed his predicament than those of St. Paul, written after Paul's miraculous encounter on the road to Damascus:

"I do not even acknowledge my own actions as mine, I for what I do is not what I want to do, but what I detest... it is no longer I who performs the action, but sin that lodges in me... for though the will to do good is there, the deed is not. The good I want to do I fail to do, but what I do is the wrong which is against my will, and if what I do is against my will, clearly it is no longer I who am the agent, but sin that has its lodging in me. I discover this principle then: that when I want to do the right, only the wrong is within my reach. In my inmost self I delight in the law of God, but I perceive that there is in my bodily members a different law, fighting against the law that my reason approves, making me a prisoner under the law that is in my members. Miserable creature that I am, who is there to rescue me out of this body doomed to death?" (Romans 7)

In an impressive economy of language, a modern-day comedian, Flip Wilson, reduced this cosmic dilemma to just six words:

 “The Devil made me do it!”

In the midst of this ongoing spiritual struggle, this man prayed that God would never allow him to rationalize his sinfulness, even if he had to live his whole life with a guilty conscience, failing to measure up to God’s holy standard. Knowing what God requires but forever falling short and suffering in mind and spirit because of it was better, he knew, than a living with a deadened conscience. Notwithstanding the suffering, there was hope in the struggle to do right, but no hope in a dead soul.

After years in this pattern of life, this fellow finally concluded two things - one, that he was tired of living like this, and, two, there had to be something missing in his understanding. He came to this second conclusion by remembering the sweetness of his miraculous encounter with the Divine and the ineffable expression of divine love that had been extended to him. He knew from that experience that God was not a sadist. God would not by miraculous means give a man a godly conscience, then leave him forever unable to live in harmony with that conscience, thus condemning him to suffer and carry a burden of guilt all his days. A God of love would not do this, so, the man reasoned, there had to something lacking in his understanding of how it all worked.

The man began to pray to for what he did not yet understand.  In his prayers he called it "the mystery of righteousness". What, Lord, is the mystery of righteousness? What is the key that unlocks the door, makes everything work, and opens the way to right-doing, freedom from sin and peace of mind - the inner assurance that one is right with God? 

His prayer was answered. 

The man imagined himself groping his way downward along a dark passageway, descending deeper and deeper into abysmal darkness. He was filled with fear and worry, struggling against the darkness but not prevailing. Finally, the passageway opened into a small room, dark except for a shaded light which hung above a small table in the center of the room. There were two small chairs, one on either side of the table. Exhausted from his long and distressing descent, the man sat down in one of the chairs. Out of the darkness another man, dressed in white, appeared, sat down in the other chair and leaned into the light. 

He said, 

"I am Jesus, and I am here because you have prayed to know what you have not yet understood." 

The man said, 

"Lord, I am tired and afraid. I am not righteous, and I know not what to do."

Jesus said, 

"You know that I love you, and I know the desire of your heart, but you have not yet understood what God requires. In your pride, you have supposed you have of yourself the power to make yourself righteous, power to achieve the perfect obedience God requires. In this you have taken upon yourself a burden you cannot bear, but I can bear it for you and I will, if we today come to terms.

"You have a choice. You can leave this room and continue down the dark corridor of life that brought you here. You can remain as you are, pridefully depending upon yourself, struggling endlessly and hopelessly against the natural man and suffering the unrelenting guilt and pains of conscience you know so well.

"Or you can place your life unconditionally in my hands. You can give me here and now what I require of you - a broken heart and a contrite, submissive spirit - a humble willingness from this day forward to submit to all things whatsoever I see fit to inflict upon you as a child does submit to his father (Mosiah 3:19) - the same spirit my Father asked of me when he sent me to Gethsemane and the cross."

Listening to these words, the man felt terror flash through him like a bolt of lightning. Give control of his life completely into the hands of another? Especially God himself - a being - however good his intentions - known to subject his supplicants to the most brutal, painful and humiliating trials? - even sending his own son to be nailed to a cross and die a miserable death?

“Surely”, the man thought, “I am above all that!”

But Jesus, knowing his thoughts, continued:

"Do not be afraid! Come, follow me! All will be well! I will be your father and you will be my son. I will gather you under my wing, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against you. I will love you, guide you, discipline you and bring you to perfection, so that one day you will be where I am, look into my face and be like I am. Surely I will do it. The blood I shed for you is the seal of my solemn promise. If you agree, your burden of sin will become mine. You will have peace from this moment, ascend from this dark place into the realm of light and move ahead on the path I have set out for you in the world and in the promised glory to come."

And in that moment the man saw his pride. He saw what had separated him from the transforming love and power of God and condemned him to failure. As both Paul and Alma in their later years had thought back on the miraculous encounters that had transformed and given new meaning and direction to their lives, so did this man remember the sweet and overwhelming manifestation of the love of God that had been poured out upon him in his youth. He remembered and knew that God loved him, was his friend, not his adversary, and would not hurt him, would do nothing but what would lift him up, make him God's man, and bring him home safe.

What better thing could he do than give his life into the hands of such a loving Father?

The fear left him, and he said,

"I will, Lord, I will!"

From that day to this, that man has had peace and has lived in the sweet assurance that God's promises do not fail.