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As we read the writings of the Apostle Paul, we begin to get a sense through the Spirit that we are given the privilege to overhear his heart and soul. Not only is he a dedicated disciple, but also a very confessional preacher. For Paul to stop and ask something from prison is not out of character for him. When Paul makes those personal requests, it is a red flag, signaling a time to pay close attention, for here is the heart of the matter. This is the key to understanding. Paul's statements of instruction are more than instructions. He will draw a line in the sand. Then he will dare you to step across it. These statements are more like a test or a final exam: "Having the same mind, and the same love, being of one accord, and of one mind."

About five years ago, in the Windy City, Chicago, a few friends and I were out looking for a good place to eat. Someone said Morialli's Italian Restaurant was the place to eat. There was one slight problem: I didn't know exactly how to get there. I was driving and talking to the couple in the back seat, and as I looked up, it became apparent that I had just gone through a traffic light that was red. I cautiously scanned the area for local officials, hoping that my mistake had gone unnoticed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw no blinking red lights and heard no sirens. We drove a couple more blocks and decided that we had no idea where the restaurant was located. Seeing a group of people waiting to get into a pub, I pulled over to the curb to ask directions. Being parked improperly, the next thing I knew was that blue and red lights were doing a dance in my rearview mirror. I watched as two of Chicago's finest approached my car. One stood at the back and the other slid down the side. I put my window down, expecting a request for my license, but instead it was a question. "Well, you ran a red light, and you double parked. Are there any other city ordinances you would like to break tonight?" I did not know what to say, for it was not a question. It was a test, a final exam, and she really was not looking for an answer.

I have discovered that there are many questions in life that are not questions but final exams. For instance:

Honestly, son, have you done everything you possibly can on your homework?

I understand that you are expecting me to stay with the children tonight while you play tennis?

Do you love me? I mean really love me?

There was an even deeper one of these from the passage in Philippians 2. The situation is this: Paul is in prison. He is trying to encourage the Christians at Philippi. He writes to express a strong commitment. Paul's desire for the believers there is that their commitment will grow and develop, and someday surpass his own commitment, that tireless and ever--zealous discipleship.

Paul begins this section of the letter with some rapid--fire statements of loyalty and faith. Then he makes the heart of his argument, and it turns from being a statement of encouragement to a test. Paul did not want information, for he already knew the right answer: to have the same mind as he had in faith. All he wanted was for the believers to respond with and by faith. It was not a question; it was a final exam. Paul wanted self--disclosures on the part of the Philippians. It was almost as if he were saying, "It is easy enough to sit around and theorize what discipleship looks like. But we are called to be in the world." And here the world comes knocking on the door of the church, rapping on the window of the day care center, or a telephone call in the middle of the night - the teenager who is now pregnant; the hypodermic needles found in the parking lot; the man who sleeps in the breezeway of the church. The real world is coming and the question is: "Are we really disciples of Jesus Christ? Are we willing to give what it takes to show our love?"

What do you think the response should have been? What do you think we should say? Well, it seems to be a multiple choice test.

They could have given answer A, and maybe that is the answer Paul wanted. Answer A is the answer of those discerning disciples. This is the answer of people who know it is their obligation to roll up their sleeves in the face of human need and be ambassadors of reconciliation. These disciples understand that discipleship cannot be done in the abstract, but knee--deep in the murk and mire of human experience. This must be the answer Paul wants: "Lord, we will do it all." We do not know how. We do know, however, that Jesus gave his life for us, and with him all things are possible.

These disciples, if they were discerning disciples, knew that answer A was not the answer, for even the most dedicated disciple would not assume to be all that Jesus Christ was and is. I recall being on the board of the CPE program and one of the students saying, "I hate this job." We all asked, "Why?" She said, "There is so much human pain I cannot touch."

While I served a church in Calhoun, Georgia, I stopped by Mrs. Inez' home one morning. We sat and visited then she asked, "What will you be doing today?" I said, "Well, I need to run to Rome and visit the hospital." She paused for a moment, then said, "You must go by and see an old friend of mine. She is very sick and lonely." That afternoon after I did the visits on my list, I turned my attention to the note Mrs. Inez had written for me. The woman's name and room number were printed clearly on the card. I stopped by, and a small sign on her door read 'no visitors' so I immediately checked with the desk nurse. The nurse promptly inquired and came out saying the woman would like to see me. I opened the door into a dimly lit room and there was an elderly woman sitting up in bed with pillows to support what little weight she had. As I approached the end of the bed, she said, "So, you are a preacher?"

"Yes, Ma'am," and I told her my church affiliation.

With almost a glare she said, "Tell me who Lot's wife was."

I stood there a moment thinking, trying to remember the story of Lot and his family. I said without thinking, "The pillar of salt."

Her eyes brightened and she smiled. She said, "Sit down. I don't have a preacher."

We visited a bit and then as I departed I asked her permission to have prayer with her, and she agreed as someone who wanted but did not want payer. I asked if I could visit again, and she said she would like that. A few days later I went by again. This time the notice on the door was different, and there were flowers and a small welcome on the sign. The room was much brighter. We visited and I told her I would come again. Only two days had passed and now the sign had changed again. The sign had been removed from the door. I again inquired at the desk, and the nurse checked, but this time the answer was, "She said she will see you, but only you." Later that day Mrs. Inez called and said her friend had passed away. I think I did some good ministry with that woman, but she should have had more. She should have had the support of friends, family, and church, and not just a preacher she knew very little about. It cannot be answer A "Lord, we will do it."

So it must be answer B. This is the answer of the theologically discerning disciples. "Paul, how can we have the mind that our Lord Jesus Christ has? He is, after all, the savior of the world. And, it is presumptuous to think we can do anything with the human need in the world. Paul, your request has surely brought us to our knees. Paul, you are an apostle and, Jesus, you are the Lord. How can we be the disciples you need? I am not so sure."

There is something wrong with this answer too. It is the response of being a passive person, saying, "Be warmed and filled, for God will take care of you, but as for us, Sunday school is at 10 a.m. and worship is at 11 a.m." The mind of Christ brings us back to the reality of such a large task.

A few weeks ago, as I sat with a family in the hospital, I met a woman whose daughter had been in the hospital for three weeks. The problem was cancer. She asked me if I would visit her. When I went in, she sat up in the bed and thanked me for coming. She said, "I sing in the choir, but none of my church family has come to see me. They think it is something I did, so all they did was send me a card." There must be something more than "be warmed and filled" that is keeping us out of it.

Paul knew something that other disciples needed to know. He knew that God could use him in prison or on the seashore and he could take the meager resources and transform them into a strength and power. The mind of Christ, the transforming power of God, is still available to us as well as we go forth to do calls, or hospital visits, or hospice, or whatever it is that we are called to do as disciples of Jesus.

I attended a gathering of a spiritual renewal group. One night a successful businessperson spoke. Accompanying him was his family. His speech began to center on his family. He told about his spouse and three sons, and then told about his daughter. He said it was a surprise when they found out his wife was expecting. Then when she was born, they could tell by the characteristics that she had Down Syndrome. He told about the struggles they had early on knowing that their daughter would not have a life as they would have planned. Then he said something that seemed surprising. "She is the best thing that has come into our family." He then called his daughter up and as she hugged him, with tears in his eyes, he said, "She has the mind of Christ."

He could not fix the problem, but he could love, honor, and treat her with respect. It was obvious they had what thousands of other relationships did not have, and that was the presence of God. He used this scripture to talk about the way God used his heart and mind to love, help, and spread the news about God's goodness.

Yes, he said with his heart full of the morsels of mercy, "She has the mind of Christ."