Sunday Devotional: Philippians 2:7

But he emptied himself, by taking the form of a bondservant, by coming to be in the likeness of men, and by being found in form as a man.

As our thoughts turn to the Incarnation this weekend, this verse is perhaps not the first that springs to mind. It’s from the “Carmen Christi,” or “hymn to Christ” in Philippians 2:5-11, possibly an early hymn known to at least the Philippian church that Paul quotes. In context, Paul is urging his readers to be humble, to consider others more important than themselves (v.3), and to look out for the interest of others, not just one’s own interests. Christ is, of course, the perfect example of such humility, which is why Paul quotes this hymn.

Paul starts by saying that Christ was “God in form” (v. 5). In other words, prior to the Incarnation Jesus had a divine nature, possessing the fullness of deity. This was a state of being that Christ had every right to, and was under no moral compulsion to change. He could have remained in that state and let the whole of humanity perish in their sin, and he would have been just and right in doing that. However, such was God’s love for His people, that Jesus was willing to “empty” himself for our sake.

What does it mean that he “emptied” himself? Theologians have debated this for many years, giving rise to a whole area of theological contemplation referred to as “Kenotic Christology” (after the Greek verb kenoō, “to empy”). What exactly did Christ empty himself of? Certainly not his divinity. Perhaps certain divine attributes? I think the answer to the question is given to us in the text. If we remember this is a hymn and grant a certain amount of poetic license, the “emptying” here is a way of describing Christ’s humility. He “emptied” himself, or made himself “less” not by divesting himself of something, but by taking on something, namely, a human nature. The phrase “He emptied himself” is followed by a series of phrases each of which I introduce in my translation with the word “by”– a translation which is allowed by the grammar, and I think helps clarify the verse.

There are three ways in which this verse describes Christ’s emptying, or humiliation:

1. He took the form of a bondservant or slave. Jesus was in the form of God, he had a divine nature, and he took on the form of a slave, the complete opposite of what he was. In doing this, Jesus’s divinity was veiled. He was still divine, but instead of descending into the world in full shekinah glory, wielding divine power over everyone, he walked the streets of Galilee as a servant, ministering to people, feeding crowds, washing feet, and being mocked, beaten, and ultimately crucified like a common criminal. And he was willing to do that for our sin and for our salvation.
2. He came in the likeness of men. Some translations say that he was “born” in the likeness of men. This is not incorrect, but the verb here is not the verb “to be born” but rather the verb “to be, to happen, to come about” (ginomai). The point is that when Jesus arrived on the scene, birthed from Mary and lying in the manger, he looked like one of us. There was no halo over his head or any mark or sign that would indicate that he was something special. If they hadn’t been told otherwise, the shepherds and wise men wouldn’t have recognized him as anything other than an ordinary Jewish child born to an ordinary Jewish couple.
3. He was found in form as a man. To everyone who met him, Jesus was an ordinary human. As Isaiah prophesied, “He has no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should desire Him” (Isaiah 53:2, LSB). People weren’t dropping at his feet when he walked by nor were they blinded by his radiance. Flowers didn’t suddenly bloom as his shadow passed over them. His mere presence didn’t demand the worship of the Jewish leaders or Pilate. When people saw Jesus, they saw a Jewish man, even though he was God incarnate.

These are true not because Jesus gave up his divinity, or exchanged his divinity for humanity, but because he took on a human nature that and his divinity was, for most of his life, veiled. Though he was God, he walked this earth being treated by most as an ordinary man, and even as the lowest of ordinary men: a slave.

The hymn goes on to tell us that Jesus’s humility extended even to death on a cross, and he suffered that death as any other human would. The beating and scourging hurt him as they would you or me. He felt the nails as they were driven into his hands and feet, severing nerves and muscles, just as they would for you and me, and he would have screamed in agony with every hammer blow.

And Jesus, though he was God, was willing to do this for us, so that our sins might be forgiven, that we could be made right with God, enjoy His favor, and live for Him for eternity. At any moment, Jesus could have unveiled his divinity and put a stop to all the mockery, pain, and suffering. But he knew it had to be this way for our redemption.

As we look upon the manger scene this Christmas season, let’s not forget who that ordinary baby nestled in the straw actually is. And let us not forget what he set aside to be that baby in the manger and to be our perfect substitute and Saviour.