A Portrait of Christ
Phillipians 2:1-11
Although all Scripture is inspired by God, and profitable for teaching, one still finds passages of Scripture in which great amounts of truth seem concentrated. These passages are treasure-mines into which the church has dug deep for precious stones to build her doctrine. They are oft-quoted and much studied. Even the greatest theologians approach such passages with a deep sense of inadequacy, and how much more one of us! Such a passage is before us today, for Phil. 2:1-11 teaches us directly of Christ, with whom we have everything to do. In these verses, Paul paints us a bold portrait of Christ in his incarnation, death, resurrection, and exaltation. In summary form, Paul presents us with his Christology. Paul informs us of his understanding of Christ. Let us not let the depth of the passage discourage us, however. As an art collector might carefully and lovingly examine a Van Gogh or a Renoir, let us gaze with adoration at this picture of Christ so skillfully drawn by the apostle's pen.
First of all, the incarnation. Verse 6 clearly teaches us that Jesus Christ was equal to God the Father. They are both God. This is a stunning statement when you consider what it really means. Everything, every quality, every attribute, that belongs to the Father belongs to the Son. As the Westminster Shorter Catechism Q/A 7 has it, the Son is "one God" with the Father, "the same in substance, equal in power and glory." All the divine attributes that belong to the Father, everything that the Father is, belongs equally to the Son.
To expand on the language of the Confession, Jesus is the same "substance" as the Father. To put in terms that a child might understand, this simply means that Jesus and the Father are made out of the same "stuff." In more theological terms, they share the same "mode" of being: whatever is essential to being God, both the Father and the Son share it. Jesus said of his relationship with the Father "I and the Father are one."
Jesus and the Father are equal in power. We see this illustrated any number of times in Scripture. In John 1 we learn that Jesus was God's active agent in creation. By healing and bringing the dead to life, on his own authority, Jesus showed the same creative, redemptive power that God the Father showed in designing and creating the universe. As a fruit of the resurrection, Jesus has been raised to the right hand of God the Father. In ancient times, such a position was considered the practical equal of the one who sat on the left. In Heb 1:3, we read that by his word Jesus himself sustains the world in which we live.
Jesus is the equal of the Father in glory. "Glory" is rather an old-fashioned concept these days. For many people it's just an empty word with no real content. In ancient times, glory was both the greatness of a person and the recognition of that greatness. It was to a large extent the reputation of that person. Synonyms include "splendor" and "renown." For Jesus, this means that he shares in all the privileges that God the Father enjoys. He has the same greatness. He deserves the same recognition and praise. Jesus as well as the Father rightfully possesses the majesty and splendor that belong to the creator and ruler of the universe. We are permitted equally to give praise to both the Father and the Son. To honor the Son, Jesus himself tells us, is to honor the Father, and one cannot know the Father unless one first knows the Son.
And yet, what did Jesus do with all this power and privilege? This same Jesus "did not consider equality with God something to be grasped." This same Jesus who had the same greatness as God the Father "made himself nothing." This does not mean that he stopped being God in any way or put off any of his divine power, but it means, in the words of the KJV and the NKJV translators, that "he made himself of no reputation." Jesus put his glory aside to serve the greater purposes of redemption. In other words, this is a reference to his humiliation. He did not cease from being God. He did not give up any of the divine attributes. But by taking on human flesh, he chose to be viewed as a human being rather than as God Almighty. This is humiliation indeed.
Now, we tend to use that word humiliation, but do we really think about it and try to feel what it means? It means that Christ gave up the honor and glory, the praise and recognition that every created being owes him. It means he was willing to be misunderstood. It means that instead of being confessed as "Very God of very God" he was willing to be treated simply as the carpenter's son from Nazareth. How often have you been misunderstood? Have you ever had someone tell you something you know perfectly well, instructing you on procedures in which you are an expert? How does it feel when people walk away from you with a wrong first impression, perhaps denigrating your character or your reputation? How does it feel? Yet for Jesus, it must have been far worse.
How can we begin to imagine what it means to share the privileges of God and then voluntarily give them up? The King who becomes a slave, or the rich man who becomes a begger, doesn't come close to capturing the reality of the situation. At the High School where I used to teach, our art teacher did a photo-essay on homeless people as part of her M.A. in Art. As part of this, she essentially became a homeless person, dressing like them, living among them, sharing with them, getting to know them. She took the old adage, that artists must suffer for their art, perhaps a bit too literally! However, at the end of the day, her husband would meet her at a designated location, and home this pseudo-homeless person would go. When Jesus, on the other hand, became a human being, it was for eternity…
Somewhat better is the science-fictionesque analogy of the scientist who studies rats. In the course of his study, a great love for the creatures grows in his heart. He learns something that would greatly improve their lives (get them out of the rat race, so to speak), but there is only one way to communicate this truth: to become a rat himself. Now, if such a thing were possible, is it something you would really like to do? Think of what you would have to give up, in terms of human comfort and privilege, to do this. Yet even this analogy gives us only a glimmer of what the sacrifice of Christ must have meant, for the distance between man and God is infinitely greater than the distance between man and a rat.
Becoming a man was humility enough, but Jesus went even farther. He could have chosen to come as king or a great hero or a rich man, but instead he came as a servant. He not only came as a man, he came as a lowly man. As Jesus said in the Gospel of Mark "The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and give his life a ransom for many." And make no mistake about it. The Greek word normally translated "servant" here is the word that is often translated "slave." Practically every English translation, however, in spite of this, has "servant." So many scholars can't be wrong, right? They are so translating, I think, out of respect for the one to whom the word refers. But here I would argue that the translation "slave" is precisely the right one, because Paul is emphasizing just how low Jesus was willing to go to redeem his people. Garth Brooks is not the only one who has "friends in low places," but where Garth goes to party, Jesus went to save.
But Jesus didn't even stop there. Do you notice a progression here? In his love for us he went even lower, for he experienced death. Nor did he experience just any death, but death on the cross. Death by crucifixion was considered the most shameful way possible to die in the Roman world. We no longer much think this way, but in ancient times to die a noble death was very important. A good death was almost as necessary as a good life. A Roman citizen could be executed by the sword, and Roman nobles often committed suicide when faced with other forms of execution (and this was considered honorable by the pagans). But crucifixion was the most shameful death possible. It was reserved for slaves and the worst sorts of criminals. In fact, it was considered impolite even to mention crucifixion. As a result of that, the most detailed description that we have a crucifixion is found right in the pages of the NT, for the literary figures of the day simply avoided the topic out of disgust. People feared and hated the shame of crucifixion almost as much as they hated the intense agony of it. Do you remember how Christ was mocked, both on the way to the cross and during the crucifixion itself? This was a regular part of the practice. In Judea, however, it was even worse than in Rome, for the people remembered the words of Deuteronomy, "Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree." One went naked to one's death in this form of punishment, and one so hung in public view (think of the several OT Scriptures which picture God's judgment on Israel as ripping off her clothes and exposing her shame). This is how far Christ went in his humiliation. The death which he endured to redeem us was the most humiliating way to die that has ever been devised.
But there is a Scriptural principle "Humble yourself in the sight of the Lord, and he will lift you up" (James 4:10). Jesus who descended to the very depths, who was made sin on our behalf, was lifted up as far as he descended. Was his humiliation great? So was his exaltation. Everything that he voluntarily gave up he has received back in full measure. Did Christ lose his life? He has received it back, eternally and fully. Did he enter the pit of hell and degradation and shame? Then he is exalted to the highest heaven where he sits at the right hand of God the Father. Did he come as a lowly servant? He is now the reigning King whom everyone must serve. Jesus has been given a name above every other name. He has been invested with reputation, power and authority unsurpassed by any other. There is no greater in the universe than he. "Worthy is the lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"
"Every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." The word "every" here should be taken in its widest possible sense. The scope of the response to Christ equals the greatness of the one to whom that response is made. "Every knee shall bow…" The believer will bow the knee in joy and gratitude for the salvation that has finally been completed in his life, for he has already bowed the knee to salvation by confessing Jesus as his Lord and Savior in this life. But the unbeliever who refuses so to confess Jesus, who persists in running his own life, will submit because he is forced to submit, because he no longer has a choice. He will bow the knee to judgment, to eternal hell and shame. Christ endured the shame of the cross so that his people would not endure eternal shame, but the unbeliever has no part in this. "How can we escape," indeed, "if neglect so great a salvation?" There will be no question on that final day who runs the universe: even his enemies will be forced to give him glory. And just as a footnote, consider this: Phil 2:10-11 is actually a quotation from the Old Testament, Isa 45:23:
Isa 45:23 By myself I have sworn, my mouth has uttered in all integrity a word that will not be revoked: Before me every knee will bow; by me every tongue will swear.
The "myself" and "me" refer to Yahweh, the covenant name for God in the OT. Paul substitutes the name of Jesus for the name of Yahweh, once again showing their equality.
Well, what a marvelous passage. If I have communicated something to you, even a tithe of the riches it contains, if I have encouraged you to love Christ more and seek to serve him better, than this sermon has been a success. But there's one more thing, something so vital that to miss it is to miss the whole point of what Paul is trying to communicate. This entire, wonderful, theologically treasure-filled passage is not the main point; it's a sub-point. In fact it's an illustration. Much as a preacher will use an illustration to strengthen some otherwise abstract idea in a sermon, so Paul uses Christ as the supreme example of the point he is making. Verse 5 is central to understanding this: "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus..."
What sort of attitude are we talking about? Well you see, the Philippian church was not a perfect church. Is that a surprise? We find hints throughout the letter that the church faces problems. We know that there was a problem with false teachers. And apparently there was a problem with unity as well. We see from 4:2 that two women in the church, Euodia and Synteche, simply couldn't get along. There was conflict, lack of harmony between these two, and it was so severe that Paul directly addresses it and mentions them by name.
Yet their problem is just a manifestation of a general problem in the church. Chapter 2:1-4 implies this, for anything Paul devotes a paragraph to teach about is almost certainly something the people to whom he is writing need to hear. He tells the Philippians to be likeminded, to have the same love, to be of one accord and one mind. Nothing in Scripture is included to no purpose, and Paul would not have given these instructions unless they needed to be given.
What causes disunity in the church? Despite what we may like to think, rarely in the local church is it because of doctrine and theology. Most churches split over one of two issues: the church choir or the use of the building. Is this an exaggeration? Actually not (people have done research on this issue), but it makes the point. Most church splits are rarely about fundamental issues of doctrine or practice; they are usually about procedural issues and programs in the church.
The problem, then, is not unity of doctrine, but seemingly inconsequential issues. Why is this? I would claim that such issues are simply symptoms of a much deeper problem and this deeper problem is nothing other than pride. Pride is not thinking that you are the best and the bravest; pride is simply, to reverse what Paul says here, regarding yourself as better and more important than others. Pride is the desire and the will to advance "my own agenda" before anything and anyone else. Pride is protecting my goals and objectives and implementing them despite the cost. It can be quiet, with gentle speech and persuasive arguments, or it can be loud, with emotional outbursts and angry words, but it holds on to its own no matter what.
So many of the problems in the church today stem not from a genuine concern to advance God's kingdom, though we often dress up our agendas with such language, but out of a desire to protect power and position. Left to our own devices, we each want to build our own kingdom and protect our own territory. The key to true unity is not conformity, not even conformity to doctrine. Now, I don't want to under-value doctrine. Agreement on doctrine is important, and without it we cannot have unity. Truth is the presupposition of unity. It's necessary, but it's not always enough. Pride destroys unity even among those who are absolutely in agreement about the truths of Scripture. No, the real key to unity, what we have to add to doctrinal truth to get unity, is humility.
And what kind of humility is this? What is the quality of this humility? The same kind that Christ had, the humility that makes a person serve others, the kind of humility that endured even death on a cross, the kind of humility that sacrifices, really sacrifices.
It is this kind of humility which puts oneself second and others first. It's this kind of humility which answers the late night phone call and doesn't hang up until the need at the other end has been handled. This kind of humility listens in love to a contradictory point of view, really listens, listens for the hidden needs and agendas, and thinks deeply before formulating an answer (unlike what we do so often: pretend to listen while we can't wait to get our response out). This kind of humility opens wallets and puts hands and feet into motion when a need arises.
Isn't this exactly the kind of humility that Jesus demonstrated? Jesus put the needs of his people before his right to divine glory and worship. Jesus didn't do it for himself, he did it because it was God's will to save the church. Paul showed this same attitude in chapter 1:21-26. He would much rather depart and be with Christ, yet he chooses to remain. Why? Because this is more beneficial to the church. Our relationships to one another are to be characterized by ministry, in the root sense of the word, because ministry simply derives from the Latin word which means service.
Therefore, people of God, let us consider Christ and then practice putting the concerns of others first, for we cannot do this except from a position of knowing Christ and loving him. We must first submit to him before we can love one another. True humility is not easy, in fact, it is so contrary to what our flesh desires that we cannot attain it unless we have put Christ first. Paradoxically, if we try to be humble, we will fail, because we'll so concentrate on humility that humility will become an end in itself, something for which to strive, rather than a reflex which results from loving Christ. You see, concentrating on humility means concentrating on ourselves, which is precisely what we wish to avoid. The key to humility is simply loving Christ more than anything else. It means so focusing on Christ that we, in effect, forget about ourselves and put Christ's agenda, Christ's agenda for ourselves and others, first. We come to love what Christ loves, for we begin to learn what it means to love Christ supremely. We fall in love with Christ, and we want him more than we want anything else. Then, and only then, may we so order the rest of our lives.
Husbands, how often do you consciously put the concerns of your wife before your own? You claim that you would die for your wife, but how many of us would rather die than do the dishes? Wives, do you do this for your husbands, respecting and loving them as the church is supposed to respect and love Christ?
As a church, how does pride infect us? Does my agenda ultimately hinder or advance the kingdom of God? Am I willing to listen to someone else's point of view, visibly communicating love and concern for that person, or do I have a rigid and unbending spirit, communicating arrogance? Humility will result in true communication, and will win a hearing for what we think. Do I always "know the right thing to say" in every situation, or am I willing to admit, that I might just be wrong, just a little? Perhaps we, as fallible people ourselves, are in need of correction, and the other person has a valid point we need to hear. Having put Christ first, having made his agenda more important than anything else, we are then in a position to listen fairly and compassionately to what others have to say.
This doesn't mean compromising the truth, or rolling over and playing dead every time there is a conflict. Did Jesus do this? Did Paul? Certainly not. When truth was at stake, they stood valiant for that truth. But Paul did so looking to Christ, and Christ did so looking to his Father in heaven. People of God, look to Christ, adore him, contemplate the picture drawn here, and elsewhere in Scripture. There is no greater combination than a sincere knowledge of the truth combined with true humility. Indeed, "Let us have this mind in us, which was also in Christ Jesus."
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