I don’t have an exciting or interesting conversion story. My conversion was a gradual one and I don’t know the exact time when I was saved. Whenever asked to share my testimony, I don’t ever think it is captivating enough to enthuse anyone. The more interesting ones, it seems, are told by those who used to live a life of utter immorality and then to live in complete opposite of their previous lifestyle upon conversion. I was never a heavy drinking party girl, a druggie, a prostitute, a murderer, etc. My old life wasn’t sinful enough to be interesting. It seems that the greatness of God is more magnified when a “filthy” sinner gets saved than an average joe like me.

I went to China for a short-term missions trip right after graduating from college, and one of the requirements was to write out my personal testimony. I don’t remember what I wrote exactly but all I remember was that I wrote a very complex and theological treatise. During the trip, one of the team member’s testimony was selected to share with the Chinese locals for the outreach night. I wasn’t surprised that mine wasn’t selected. After all, it wasn’t interesting enough to captivate the lost.

I have pondered this for a long time and only now am I able to put words to my thoughts. I did a study on Martin Luther when I was in college. I was intrigued by his life and his obsession with the sins in his life. He didn’t live an immoral life like St. Augustine, yet he felt the need to confess every little sin in his life in order to be right before God. Luther was a man who understood his own sinfulness all too well. His problem was that he didn’t understand the justification and grace of God. I came away with this study with the thought of, “Wow. . . this man is psychotic.” Anyone who read his life would probably utter the same thing. This study had a great impact on me because for the first time I saw that every “little” sin is sin and it is not trivial before God. Even though we may compare ourselves with others and come away with the understanding that we are better than those immoral folks, God doesn’t grade on a curve. In other words, just because I am better than some people, it is still not right before God.

In light of this, there is a problem with thinking that some testimonies of conversion — such as those I mentioned at the top — are more radical and worth sharing than others. This view erroneously assumes that the emphasis of our conversions should be how visible or drastic our sins were, measured according to “worldliness.” Instead, we should see that even the most “petty” of sins are a desecration of God’s glory and as much prove a basis for an eternity in hell as the most “vile” sins. If we are testifying of how bad we were based on our perception of those sins, we are practically contradicting a Biblical understanding of sin, which is rooted in the glory of God and not the mere ugliness of the sin.

Put another way, it’s easy to persuade someone that drunkenness and sexual immorality are sinful. Try persuading unbelievers that a proud heart is sinful and worthy of eternal punishment. The first type of sin is most common in popular testimonies, and yet the latter is far more common and what really keeps men from God. I wonder if the church does both the lost and the gospel a disservice by emphasizing testimonies of turning from external sins instead of the internal ones that are at the heart of what separate men and women from a holy God. After all, you won’t have any trouble persuading a drunkard that he’s dead in sin. But the average suburbanite American? Just as dead in sin, but unaffected by testimonies of drastic conversion, and perhaps even made to feel good enough about himself (vs. “that former drunkard”) not to need “that kind of religion.”

Ultimately, God’s greatness in saving a “decent person” like me is awesome because before Him, my “little” sins are still loathsome and offensive. My heart was dead in sin and under judgment as any other. God’s grace and mercy in bringing me to Him is no less miraculous and amazing than His grace in granting life to the “chief” of sinners. It’s interesting that Paul, a religious zealout for all of his life, referred to himself with that title — not those who happened to have very “worldly” lifestyles.

What then? Hopefully, we can shape the way we share our “testimonies” in a fashion that more accurately reflects God’s perspective on our sin, and God’s power in changing dead hearts, no matter how “decent” we may seem. A testimony can then present how God takes dead hearts and makes them anew, and in so doing, present the gospel in a fashion that would impact every hearer.