Philippians 2

⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.

There is a truly haunting photograph of a young lady looking out of a manhole cover in the city of Bucharest.

She lives down there, along with thousands of young people and small children who have been forgotten, abandoned. One man, John Nolan, a Christian who became heartbroken when he learned about the plight of poor children in Romania while in a prayer meeting, decided to go and do something about it. He went down underground to meet and get to know these young people. He speaks of his shock at the condition of these kids.

I remember meeting a boy who kept stubbing cigarettes out on his arm and another boy who was set on fire. These street children have no identities, no papers so they can’t get a job. They feel no one cares for them so they are nomads, ghosts, wandering the streets, high on glue. Many live in sewers, destitute, and because the police don’t go to check on them, some die.’[1]

A Christianity Today article speaks of another man who has determined to reach these children living underground.

As another cold night falls on the East European city of Bucharest, Marshall McKenna prepares to visit the hidden homes of the hundreds of Romanian street children.

Heading for a manhole on a side street, Marshall easily pulls away the heavy lid and quickly disappears down the ladder. Four yards below street level, the inky darkness closes in around him. But the young South African knows his way and walks on confidently.

After several minutes, someone ahead strikes a match and lights a candle. It’s Ionel in his winter nest, which is nothing more than a large, filthy blanket on the concrete floor. Ionel and countless other abandoned Romanian children seek shelter under the streets of Bucharest, keeping warm near the underground steam pipes that crisscross the city.[2]

This is just amazing to me: that a person would be so driven by concern, so driven by love for those hurting down below the surface, that they would look at a manhole cover and think, “Yes. I will go down there.” I do not suppose I have never looked at a manhole cover and thought, “Yes. I will go down there.” But these kindhearted people do. Why? Because they are followers of Jesus. And why does that matter? Because Jesus looked down upon our dark and rebellious and lost and wounded world and Himself said, “Yes. I will go down there.”

And this is even more amazing. It is one thing for a man to go beneath a manhole cover. It is another for God Himself to go down beneath the veil of tears into this fallen world. But that is exactly what Jesus did. And His coming down was so startling, so powerful, that Philippians 2:7 tells us that He “emptied himself” in order to do so.

That idea of “emptying himself”—the Greek word is kenōsis—is an idea about which theologians and interpreters of scripture have debated, but is an idea that we simply must get right. So what does kenōsis mean? What does it mean that Jesus “emptied himself” to come down to us?

Kenōsis does not mean that Jesus emptied Himself of His deity.

To understand the full context for this idea of Jesus emptying Himself, we need first to understand the wider context of Philippians 2:5–8. In these amazing verses—which possibly constitute an ancient hymn—Paul writes:

⁵ Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, ⁶ who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, ⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

In verse 5, we are told to take on the “mind of Christ.” It is “ours,” we are told, when we come to Jesus in faith. And what is the mind of Christ? It is revealed in certain amazing realities:

• Jesus did not decide simply to stay in Heaven in His eternal, pre-existent state, to stay and “grasp” His equality with the Father.
• Instead, Jesus “emptied himself.”
• He did this by taking the form of a servant and being born a human being.
• And, ultimately, He did this by dying on a cross.

There are some who assert that Jesus’ kenōsis means that Jesus abandoned His deity in His incarnation. But this must be rejected. As we saw in our consideration of John 8:56–59, Jesus asserts His pre-existent deity so clearly that the people seek to kill Him over it. John, in John 1, asserts the deity of “the Word,” Jesus (1:1), who “became flesh” (1:14). And there are numerous other scriptural arguments besides.

For our purposes, our text does not assert that Jesus in some way takes off His full deity in His emptying of Himself. The very idea is profoundly problematic, as Frank Stagg makes clear.

This passage gave rise to “kenotic” Christology (kenōsis is Greek for emptying), that in some sense the preexistent Christ surrendered his divinity in order to become man. But how could God divest himself of deity? Christ’s divinity is not a cloak which may be taken off and later be put back on. One may surrender privileges or give up a favorable situation, but he cannot lay aside his nature. The chief weakness of the kenōsis theory is that it is unreal and meaningless. Christ did not and could not empty himself of his divinity, in preexistence or otherwise.[3]

Stagg and many others have rightly pointed out that Philippians 2:7 must be informed by and held alongside Colossians 2:9, and vice versa. Consider:

Philippians 2

^7a but emptied himself…

Colossians 2

⁹ For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily

Philippians 2:7 speaks of kenōsis, or “emptying,” but Colossians 2:9 speaks of plerosis, or “fullness.”

ἐκένωσεν / kenōsis: “emptying” (Philippians 2:7)

πλήρωμα / plerosis: “fullness” (Colossians 2:9)

There is a sense, then, in which the incarnation means an emptying but another sense in which it means a filling, and this is determined by which direction one considers the incarnation: from the up/down perspective of Heaven or the down/up perspective of earth. The late Baptist theologian Dale Moody is correct when he writes:

Kenosis is from the side of man, and plerosis is from the side of God. Looking at the existence of Jesus Christ in one way, Christ emptied himself into the man Jesus, and at the same time the man Jesus was filled with the Christ.[4]

This is a beautiful way of thinking about this! The “fullness of deity” continued to dwell in the incarnate Christ. Yet Christ emptied Himself. Whatever this means, it certainly does not mean that the incarnate Christ ceased to be God!

Kenōsis has more to do with Jesus emptying Himself than it does Jesus’ emptying out certain attributes of Himself.

There is one very obvious answer to the question of what Paul means by Jesus emptying Himself in verse 7, and that is that the idea is actually explained outright in the latter half of verse 7 and in verse 8. Watch:

⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

The words following “emptied himself should be seen as the explanation of what that means. Jesus emptied Himself:

• by taking the form of a servant;
• by being born in the likeness of men;
• by going to the cross.

These actions, then, are His emptying of Himself. Notice that Paul does not indulge in specific examples of Jesus setting this or that attribute aside. Rather, Paul, in explaining this “emptying” of Himself, simply points to (a) the incarnation and (b) the crucifixion.

It is most helpful, then, to believe that kenōsis has more to do with Jesus emptying Himself from heaven to earth than it does His emptying out of any particular attributes or qualities. Gordon Fee asserts that “Christ did not empty himself of anything; he simply ‘emptied himself,’ poured himself out, as it were.”[5] His emptying is His incarnation, is His birth, isHis crucifixion. Jesus is emptied out, poured out, from Heaven to earth!

God has come to earth, and He has come as a servant, born of the Virgin Mary, and born to die on the cross! The great Christmas hymn captures this so well:

Christ, by highest heaven adored,
Christ, the everlasting Lord,
late in time behold him come,
offspring of the Virgin’s womb:
veiled in flesh the Godhead see;
hail th’incarnate Deity,
pleased with us in flesh to dwell,
Jesus, our Immanuel.

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
risen with healing in his wings.
Mild he lays his glory by,
born that we no more may die,
born to raise us from the earth,
born to give us second birth.

We rightly marvel at the kenōsis, the emptying of Jesus from Heaven into flesh!

Yet, Jesus’ kenōsis does mean certain very real changes from His pre-incarnate state.

That being so, Jesus’ incarnation was yet marked by certain very real changes from His pre-incarnate state.

⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

What changes did the incarnation bring with it?

The most obvious is that Jesus now experienced the limitations of flesh, of having a body. He got cold. He got hot. He sneezed. Sometimes He did not sleep well. Sometimes He got leg cramps. He got hungry. He got thirsty. This, of course, was quite different from Jesus’ pre-existent, non-incarnate state. Jesus had a body!

Theologian Millard Erickson wisely writes:

By taking on human nature, he accepted certain limitations upon the functioning of his divine attributes. These limitations were not the result of a loss of divine attributes but of the addition of human attributes.[6]

Yes, previously omnipresent, for instance, the incarnate Jesus was for thirty-three years bound to the limitations of fleshly existence.

Robert Culver has very helpfully delineated other changes that came with Jesus’ emptying of Himself. Culver has written of “Five Changes Involved in Incarnation.” These changes help us get at what is involved in kenōsis, in this emptying of Himself. They are:

1. There was a change in His dwelling place.
2. There was a change in His possessions.
3. There was a change as to His glory. (“…for thirty-some years on earth the Son of God was incognito in respect to his divine glory, even though muffled glory flashed forth on occasion…”)
4. There was a change in position in relation to the Father.
5. There was a change from form of God to fashion as a man.[7]

We must remember that these changes were (a) embraced willingly by Jesus and (b) were embraced for the duration of His earthly, incarnate state, those thirty-three years of His earthly existence. Indeed, some have spoken of “a retraction of attributes” as opposed to “an abandonment of attributes.”[8] “Retraction” is more temporary than “abandonment.” This would be more accurate.

Perhaps the most significant change pertained to Jesus’ glory, Culver’s third point. This is significant because this change seems to be being alluded to by those three explanations given by Paul in verses 7 and 9: Jesus coming as a servant, Jesus being born, Jesus going to the cross. None of these are, from the perspective of earth, glorious.

It is amazing, when one considers these three realities, to think of the Son of Man submitting Himself to this. He who previously was heralded by angels and archangels in Heaven, is suddenly born of a woman. He came lowly. He lived humbly. And then, most shocking of all, He goes to a cross! The glory that was His in His pre-existence is only occasionally glimpsed in His incarnate state.

I love how Gregory of Nyssa, in 394, put it. He wrote:

He “emptied himself,” as the apostle says, by contracting the ineffable glory of his Godhead within our small compass. In this way “what he was” remained great and perfect and incomprehensible, but “what he assumed” was commensurate with the measure of our own nature.[9]

This is important. Nyssa asserts that Jesus remained God, but the glory of His deity was now “contracted…within our small compass.” Charles Eerdman, in 1932, observed that “Christ did not and could not cease to be divine, but that he could and he did lay aside ‘the insignia of his majesty,’ the outward manifestation of his deity.”[10]

His glory was therefore shrouded. It remained His, but it was now cloaked. It did peak out here and there: in His miracles and most notably on the Mount of Transfiguration. Otherwise, it was largely cloaked, at least in comparison to His pre-existent glory. Danny Akin very helpfully points to something that Jesus said in His “High Priestly Prayer” to make this point.

In his high priestly prayer our Lord said, “Now, Father, glorify Me in Your presence with the glory I had with you before the world existed.” Jesus did not surrender his deity, but he did surrender his glory. He became in a sense “God incognito,” He laid aside willingly, in humble obedience to the Father (1) the praises of heaven, (2) the position of heaven, and (3) the prerogatives of heaven. The wedding of deity and humanity was permanent. The emptying, however, was only for the time of his incarnation.[11]

Yes! This is so! And yet He remained and remains the God of glory!

I love the Christmas hymn, “What Child is This?” That hymn is asking the most obvious question: Who is this Jesus? Who can this be? What child is this?

This is my favorite Christmas song. It is so beautiful. I have always found it a bit melancholic, a bit haunting, and I like that. There is just enough sadness in the music (the traditional British song, “Greensleeves”) to evoke the reality of the cross there in the shadows of the incarnation. And I love the question/answer format of the song.

It was written by William Chatterton Dix in 1865. Interestingly, Dix had gotten very sick and almost died. He slipped into a severe depression and, ultimately, out of that experience, experienced a profound, personal, spiritual revival. So he wrote this beautiful hymn that we sing today.

What Child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ, the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!

Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.

So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come, peasant, king to own Him.
The King of kings salvation brings;
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.

This, this is Christ, the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary!

I love this. Dix seems to be wrestling with the central conundrum of Philippians 2:7: How can the God of glory come so lowly? What child, indeed, in this? Can this be King Jesus? Yes! Yes it can!

Paul was seeking to answer this question. This child is none other than “God with us,” Immanuel, emptied now into flesh, God, still, but now incarnate, lowly, yet ever-exalted, glory-shrouded, yet worthy of all glory!

What child is this?

This is King Jesus! Marvel at Him! Bow before Him! Worship Him! Give Him your very life!

 

[1] https://www.independent.ie/regionals/wexford/news/street-kids-saviour/35391825.html

[2] https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/1998/may18/8t6050.html

[3] Stagg, Frank. “Philippians.” The Broadman Bible Commentary. General Editor Cliofton J. Allen. Volume 11 (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1971), p.196

[4] Moody, Dale. The Word of Truth. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1981), p.405.

[5] Fee, Gordon D. Philippians. The IVP New Testament Commentary Series. Volume 11 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1999), p.95

[6] Erickson, Millard J. Christian Theology. Second Edition. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2003), p.751.

[7] Culver, Robert Duncan. Systematic Theology. (Fern, Ross-shire: Mentor, 2005), p.486–87.

[8] Garrett, James Leo, Jr. Systematic Theology. Volume 1 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1990 / Logos Version), p.695.

[9] https://catenabible.com/phil/2

[10] Eerdman, Charles R. The Epistle of Paul to the Philippians. (Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press, 1932), p.74.

[11] Akin, Daniel L. “The Person of Christ.” A Theology for the Church. Editor Daniel L. Akin (Nashville, TN: B&H Academic, 2007), p.500.