The Example of Christ’s Humility (Part 1)

By Anthony Wood

When I was a boy, a visiting pastor taught us about humility He opened his Bible and began, “Any preacher not wise enough to tremble when asked to preach on humility should not be preaching at all.” The congregation chuckled.

The pastor’s preaching then echoed through the church, enveloping the congregation in a sense of reverence and awe. The hush that followed was broken only by the soft rustle of pages turning as those gathered opened their Bibles to the passage about Christ’s humility.

Paul records the humiliation of Christ as:

…although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, being made in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Php 2:5-8, NASB)

As they read, the words seemed to take on their own life, painting a vivid picture of the Son of God laying aside His majesty to suffer for His creatures. They pictured Him leaving the glory of heaven to enter a world of violence, malice, and injustice. They imagined Him laboring for years as a carpenter, submitting to John’s baptism, and patiently enduring the taunts of religious leaders.

And then they saw Him, betrayed by His closest friend, arrested, and beaten mercilessly during an illegal trial. They saw Him stripped naked and hung on a cross, dying alongside common criminals. Moreover, they felt the weight of the darkness that covered the earth as the wrath of God was poured out on Him.

However, even amid this darkness, there was a glimmer of hope, for they knew that the truth of Christ’s sacrifice would permeate and protect them and that the theology of Calvary would encourage them and strengthen them in their faith. They knew that when they lived daily in the shadow of the cross, they would be surrounded by God’s holiness and immense love.

And so, they worshiped, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and awe. They marveled at the thought that God would pour His wrath out on His own Son, the focal point of His eternal delight, for their sake. Further, they knew that this truth would ultimately perfect them, transforming them into the likeness of Christ Himself.¹

Since most who have read Voice have taught on the famed kenosis of Philippians 2, I have elected to list the text with a brief explanation in the hopes of devoting ample space for reflections and devotions, prayerfully allowing this piece to serve as foundational “heart material” to the treasured articles sure to follow. So, let us consider how these truths permeate, protect, and will ultimately perfect us.

His Humility Will Permeate Us

What Christian has not realized that the gospel, which saved him, is also the truth that progressively sanctifies him? More so, what is the hope that encourages him? The theology of Calvary, like a best friend, should permeate our thoughts and affections daily.

When meditation on Christ’s sacrifice fades from our minds, a subtle weakening of our spiritual “nervous system” follows. As true believers, we will never deny the faith or significance of Christ’s death. However, when the cross is no longer first in our hearts, other pursuits will quickly take center stage, sabotaging our joy and ministry vitality.

Yet when we live daily in the shadow of Calvary, both God’s holiness (Ex 34:29-30; Isa 6:5) and His immense love (Ro 5:8; 1Jn 4:9) surround us. We are confronted afresh with the striking reality of perfect justice and mercy, a courtroom, as it were, where the Judge walks from the stand to pay the penalty for guilty criminals.

In this reflection, our Trinitarian worship grows, attempting to imagine (ever failing to comprehend!) that God would pour His wrath out on the One, who is God of God, and God with God, the focal point of His eternal delight, so holy and pure.

Frederick Leahy eloquently details,

Again and again, the Savior casts himself on the Father’s bosom in earnest supplication, but there is no answer to his anguished cry. Heaven remains silent. He rises and falls, rises and falls, but it seems God was thrusting him away. For the moment, the door of his Father’s house remains fast closed, despite his repeated knocking…the cup of horror, does not pass from the trembling sufferer; on the contrary, its contents become every moment more bitter.²

How that scene dismembers our proud outlook and grumbling. To complain of our earthly “inequities” for even a moment, be it an unfair employer, a disdainful relative, or a prodigal child, the “woe is me” so familiar to man fades in light of such sacrifice.

The crown of thorns, flagellum, wrought iron nails, and heaven’s silence remind us that every injustice in our life, no matter how malicious or painful, could never parallel what Christ undertook. We sent Him to the cross. Our sin held Him there. However, He so kindly embraced it.