I once knew a kid with the distinction of having the thickest student file (ever) in the high school assistant principal’s office. It was not for his academic honors. He was what was called “a discipline problem.” Not so his older sister. She was a Presidential Scholar. Her file in the assistant principal’s office held only the letter inviting her to the White House to receive the award. These with kids with the same parents! Amazingly, they both grew up to become gainfully employed, contributing members of society. But who could have imagined such similar outcomes back in the mid-60s? This family might have been the model for the one in Jesus’ parable. Except in this family, the Good One always did what she was asked to do, and the Naughty One just kept adding to his file.

Was it like this in your family? Was there one kid who could be counted on to be the Good One, one who routinely, automatically did what the parents asked? Wasn’t the good one hard to live with? Or up to? Today’s parable is a little more ambiguous than that, which is why Jesus has to ask, which one was the good one?

The answer is obvious: the one who did what the father asked. Is Jesus telling us this is “how” Christians should act? If that’s true, wouldn’t it be easier to be “good” if God were clear about what we’re supposed to do? Something like instructions on your clock radio in the morning: “Today’s weather will be partly crabby, so cheerfulness is called for at work and school. Be sure to make a complete stop at stop signs today, and volunteer at the resource center.”

Today’s parable, on first examination, is clear: it’s more obedient to do God’s will (even if you said you wouldn’t). What’s fuzzy about that? Nothing. What is fuzzy is, what is God’s will? You’d think a pastor wouldn’t say that. One of my friends told me she has been hearing a strong call from God. Her only question is, “call to what”? She distinctly hears the call and a message, “Say yes.” That’s it. Yes to what? Nice call.

You’d think the apostle Paul would help us out. Paul was the Ann Landers of the early church. His letters are like advice columns, filled with day-to-day operating instructions for Christian living and lists of “do this but don’t do this.” The temptation in sticking to the lists is that, you begin to think that’s all there is, that you are the Good One. Then you’re stuck. Sermon texts seem to have a small set of topics that get harped on over and over. Sin: we’re against it. You aren’t God; let God be God. Take responsibility for your actions. Stick up for each other. Today’s topic is a subset of “let God be God,” namely, don’t limit your relationship with God by putting either yourself or God in a box. The questions the religious leaders asked Jesus weren’t from bad motives. They needed to know “how” to think of him, how to relate. I did my filing this week. Apparently I hadn’t filed since Lent. As I sorted through the papers, I put each item in an appropriate file so I could access it again quickly and efficiently. Our relationship with God should not be like filing: a neatly labeled “God” file, access if and when we need it on our own terms and conditions (even if the terms are broadened by virtue of our being the Good One), but God certainly not cluttering up our daily life or asking us to change. Furthermore, if we are stuck as the Good One, we come to depend on being the Good One. There is a lot of pressure that comes with depending on your own self for getting into heaven and earning God’s love. You may be familiar with this term: self righteous. That’s when what you do is what causes God to love you. Not only is that hard work, it limits God’s work in your life.

We do that mental filing thing for human interaction, though, don’t we? It’s the basis of etiquette, and it streamlines interactions, helping us know how to respond. The guy in the orange and black jersey is in one file, the guy in the green and yellow is in another. The person who takes your order at McDonald’s is in one mental file. The person with the flashing light who pulls your car over to the side of the road is in another mental file. The way you relate to the persons of one file is different from the way you relate to the persons of another file. While saying, “supersize that” is appropriate in one case, you probably don’t want to tell the one with the flashing lights to “supersize.”

Here’s where we get back to Paul. We don’t just mentally file other people, we assume mental files for ourselves. My aunt went to her first Al-Anon meeting with me, years ago. Last week she said she was telling another friend, a psychologist, how grateful she was for Al-Anon. She asked him if he recommended Al-Anon for his clients. He said he did, but that most don’t go. “It’s not who they think they are,” he said. I know what he means. I was convinced that I couldn’t go to Al-Anon. “White girls don’t go there,” I thought. People like me don’t use food stamps. People like me don’t have restricted diets and exercise regimines. People like me don’t have to check in to a hospital to dry out. People like me don’t ask for help. People like me don’t go on mission trips. People like me don’t read the Bible—not every day!

That kind of mental filing is limiting. When Paul says “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” he’s reminding his readers about humility—where we mentally file ourselves in relation to others—humility, for the sake of salvation. So it’s just a tiny step before Paul calls into question how we limit our faith community mental file as well. I’ll be part of this, but not that. Imagine a faith “community” not exactly like us. A community where people don’t drive cars like ours. Where not everyone speaks English as their first language. Where their lifestyles make them vulnerable to AIDS. Where they spend money on things we don’t approve of. Where they know the Four Spiritual Laws. Where people sing and clap and dance in church. Where some people still have questions about this whole God thing. Where others disapprove of how we worship.

Wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier if God just gave us a list of rules to live by? Or put us in groups where we all matched and all agreed? When Paul says, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” I have the impression that he means not just “say you’re going to do what God asks.” He means, as Jesus pointed out, do what God asks. But shoot--! Did God do this on purpose, so we don’t get too righteous on account of our self? There are no detailed instructions about what God’s will is. That’s where the trust thing comes in. Maybe this is the “fear and trembling” Paul talks about regarding working for our own salvation. We don’t get a list of “do this and don’t do this.” What we get is God working. Not, “God is done and now you’re finished.” We get “God at work, God continuing to work, God not done yet.” God working in us “to will and to work for God’s good pleasure.” This means we must be willing to change. Getting there, but not arrived yet. The assurance that, having the mind of Christ Jesus in us, we will be “the Good One.” Not because of what we do, but because of what God does in and through us.