Ministry Matters™ | Articles | Having the Mind of Christ http://w w w .ministrymatters.com/all/article/entry/1736/having-the-mind-of-christ%23.TmgNljj1jLM.printfriendly September 7, 2011
Philippians 2:5-11
You’ve seen it on bumper stickers, bracelets, rings, dangles in windshields of cars, and lots of other places. “WWJD—What would Jesus do?” It’s not new. Francis of Assisi based his movement on such a question in the early thirteenth century. The Social Gospel movement of the late nineteenth century resuscitated it. It was at the heart of Shelton’s In His Steps. And it has come around again in recent years.
Formulas like that sound awfully simplistic, but this one carries a deeper nuance. To be Christian means to have the mind of Christ (Phil 2:5), to have the living Christ recycle your understanding (Rom 12:2), to exhibit a different way of thinking and acting. The Mind of Christ
We’re talking about something with immense implications for the Christian spiritual life, but Paul did not leave his beloved Philippians guessing as to what the mind of Christ means in essence. They would make him burst with joy if they had unity of mind, heart, and soul, humbly counting others more important than themselves and putting the interest of others ahead of their own—in a word, if they thought and acted as Jesus Christ did. Here Paul quoted what scholars have recognized as a hymn possibly composed by Paul but just as likely a hymn actually sung in churches at this time, probably at baptism, for it suits the theme of dying and rising with Christ. At a cosmic level and at an earthly level, Christ modeled servanthood, humility, and self-giving.
At the cosmic level he did not consider equality with God something selfishly to cling to, but rather he emptied himself, in his human state taking a servant’s form. As the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed phrased it, though “very God of very God,” he “for us and for our salvation, came down from heaven.” He did not come, however, in regal and imperial majesty—surely the way we humans would have expected—but as a menial servant.
At the human level, that of real flesh and blood, he humbled himself and died an ignominious death on a cross. Servanthood in its ultimate expression. Compassion in its ultimate expression. Here, surely, we see how far love will go—trusting himself into God’s hands unreservedly, holding nothing back. His was a humble mind, a servant-minded mind, a God-enthralled mind. Obtaining the Mind of Christ
Notice that Paul’s exhortation to the Philippians can be translated in two different ways. “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” or “Let the same mind be in you that you have in Christ Jesus.” The first would suggest imitation of Christ’s example, the second living a life empowered and directed by the indwelling Christ. In his letters, Paul gives support to both ideas. For Paul the Christian life is, above all, life “in Christ.” The challenge for us is how the mind of Christ may become our own.
Christians throughout the centuries have not assumed that having the mind of Christ would happen automatically. Take the bus and leave the driving up to Jesus. To be sure, when we open our inner doors and invite God in, the living Christ, the Spirit, makes his dwelling in us, so that our lives henceforth are Christ-controlled. For Christ to take control of our thoughts and actions, however, requires more. It takes some time studying and pondering the Jesus story.
It is not by accident that Christian meditation has focused on the Gospels. Although the faithful have spent time with all of Scripture, they have concentrated especially on the story of Jesus, his life and death and resurrection. From early centuries on, Christians have given special attention to the Gospels in corporate worship by standing when they are read and doing other things to call attention other things to call attention to their importance. Most of the great illuminated manuscripts that monastic artists so lovingly created are Gospels. Entering into these opens to us the mind of Christ.
It’s a life-transforming story. Anthony Bloom was a medical doctor in the Soviet Union. An Orthodox priest came and asked him to do something for the church. Bloom said, “But I’m an atheist.” The priest responded, “That’s okay. Here, read this.” He handed him a copy of the Gospel according to Mark. Bloom read the Gospel and became a Christian and soon an Orthdox priest himself. Humility in an Age of Intimidation
In a culture that has made bestsellers of Robert J. Ringer’s Looking Out for Number One and Winning through Intimidation and is reprising the Columbine massacre through computer simulation, humility may not seem to make much sense. Not the meek, as the Beatitude asserts, but the proud and aggressive inherit the earth. Not reserved but pushy people get ahead in sales, advertising, management, whatever. Not modest but swaggering athletes and teams win games. The logic seems sound until one asks whether the world’s present dire situation of violence and disorder do not have their roots in such logic. Have westerners, including many Christians, fallen prey to the fallacious assumption that the use of force and violence can resolve complex problems in human relationships?
Although one can understand the hesitancy of some who have experienced more than their share of oppression (e.g. African Americans and women), to warm to the word “humility,” we must recognize its centrality in Christian spirituality. According to the Hebrew wisdom tradition, God snatches the mighty from their thrones and lifts up the humble (Sirach 10:14; Job 5:11; 12:19; Luke 1:52). In Jesus’ parable it was not the proud Pharisee but the self-abasing tax collector with not one thing he could cite to justify himself who went home okayed by God (Luke 18:14). Warning his disciples not to follow the example of the rabbis, Jesus put it pointedly, “The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted” (Matt 23:11-12).
That verse guided early contemplatives. According to Benedict of Nursia, ascending the twelve steps of the ladder toward God depends on lowliness. Humility does not mean a dog-slinking attitude. Rather, as the anonymous author of the fourteenth century classic The Cloud of Unknowing explained, “In itself, humility is nothing else but a [person’s] true awareness and understanding of himself [or herself] as he [or she] really is.” Where pride, egocentrism, stands in the way of intimacy with God, honest owning of your humanity with all of its faults and needs opens the way to God. Americans seem uncertain which way to turn at this juncture in our history. Could it be that this time of confusion and despair is a good time to do what Benedict of Nursia and Francis of Assisi did in their equally confused eras—to follow Jesus in servanthood? Questions
1. How often and in what ways do we try to force our biases and prejudices on Jesus so that we can have him, in our minds, approving what we are about rather than forcing upon ourselves the true radicality of his example? 2. What is your first memory of reading the Gospels? What were you thinking as the stories came alive in your consciousness? What impact did they make on your thinking? What impact did they make on your actions?