
Although it took place years ago, I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the evening service on missionary emphasis day of Hollow Rock Camp Meeting in Northeast Ohio. The preacher was preaching a powerful sermon from Philippians 2 about what he referred to as the “downward spiral of humility” of the incarnation. At the conclusion of his sermon, the song leader led the congregation in the singing of the old hymn,
I’ll Go Where You Want Me to Go, as the responsive made their way to the altar.
I remember singing that old hymn in a new way like I never had before. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I could actually sing the words and mean it.
I’ll go where You want me to go, dear Lord, O’er mountain, or plain, or sea; I’ll say what You want me to say, dear Lord, I’ll be what You want me to be. Something transpired that evening in the innermost recesses of my soul. A change of some kind occurred in my heart and I could sing this song with honesty.
What was it that prompted this change? Why could I declare to God my unreserved availability to Him like never before? What brings a person to the point where they are willing to tell Jesus that they are totally at his disposal?
Perhaps the answer can be found in the content of the preacher’s sermon. What transformational nugget of truth lies hidden among the words of Paul’s epistle to the church at Philippi? The text came from the second chapter in which Paul exhorts the recipients of his letter that “your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus (v. 5, NIV).” He then goes on to describe the very character of the incarnate Lord Jesus who in humility became a man and gave his life for the sake of others.
This incarnational reality struck a chord in me that night. There is something profoundly stirring in this concept that upsets the equilibrium of an attentive heart. That God would become a man, the ultimate example of condescension and accommodation, is something virtually incomprehensible. And yet that is the essential truth of the gospel. The incarnation gives us crystal clear insight into the very nature of the Triune God. God the Father gives up God the Son for the salvation of the world. God the Son obeys the will of God the Father and in a perfect, willful, and free act of humility takes up residence in human flesh. There is no elbowing for attention or grasping for authority in the life of Jesus, only self-emptying determination to go, say, and be something redemptive for the sake of others.
Paul’s exhortation is for this very same attitude, or mind, that was in Jesus to be in those who bear his name. It is not enough that the believers in Philippi experience unity or comfort or tenderness and compassion. If they are to experience the fullness of what it means to be a Christian it will involve a like-mindedness among them characteristic of the very mind of Christ. This has nothing to do with intellect or education but has everything to do with
orientation. It is the very mind of Christ that does “nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility [considers] others better than yourselves (v. 3).” It is a mind singularly focused on the welfare of another over and above, and often at the expense of, oneself. It is a fundamentally outward disposition of one’s very being.
It’s not the numbers or statistics that will ultimately compel Christians to go, say, or be something redemptive for the sake of God and others. It’s not the passionate plea for help by those laboring in understaffed mission fields. It’s not the coverage the media might give to a nation plagued with poverty, disease, war, or natural disaster. It’s not the guilt many of us Americans feel when we truly consider just how good we have it in our own country. Yes, these things might contribute to someone making a decision to take action of some kind, but decisions like these are built on an unstable foundation that can be shaken at the drop of a hat. No, we need something real to restore an outward curvature to our hearts bent inward. We need something fundamental in our orientation to be radically changed.
Transformation alone precedes true motivation. Thankfully God is in the business of transforming lives at the deepest levels of space and time.
That is what took place in my own heart and mind that night at camp meeting. The truth of the incarnation of Jesus, and everything that it entails, fundamentally changed me. In the mugginess of that hot July evening something occurred within my spirit that permanently altered the way I view the world and my place in it.
I can only hope that Christian leaders make it a point of emphasis to show people who Jesus really is, for it is in Jesus alone that we can gaze into the inner Triune life. Once we fully hone our attention in on who God is we will finally discover the true ground, the true originating source, of our mission and purpose in the world.