Voices of the Bible — When Pride Blocks the Path
Philippians 2:1-13 (CEB) · Fresh Start: When Life Takes an Unexpected Turn
I invite you to connect with the voices of the Bible as we explore one of the earliest Christian hymns, a poem so ancient it appears Paul quoted it rather than composed it, a text that sits at the very heart of what it means to follow Jesus.
We’re in Philippians 2, verses 1 through 13. Paul has just encouraged the church at Philippi to live in unity, looking out for each other’s interests, not just their own. Then he does something remarkable. Instead of just giving them a rule to follow, he points them to a reality. He shows them the shape of divine love made visible in Jesus.
“If there is any encouragement in Christ,” Paul begins, “any comfort in love, any participation in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, complete my joy by thinking the same way, having the same love, being united, and agreeing with each other.” Paul isn’t asking for conformity. He’s asking for orientation. A shared direction, even when people see different things.
Then the hymn begins, and Paul invites his listeners into the staggering reality of who Jesus is and what he did.
“Though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.”
Let that sink in. Jesus had what amounts to the highest status imaginable, equality with the divine nature itself. He had every right to power, authority, dominion. The word Paul uses is “exploit,” which means to leverage something for your own advantage. Jesus looked at his equality with God and chose not to weaponize it. Not to use it to dominate, to control, to ensure his own position. That’s already extraordinary. But it gets more radical.
“But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings.”
The Greek word is kenosis, a pouring out, a voluntary release. Jesus didn’t lose his divine nature. He set aside its privileges. He moved toward the margins. He took the form of a slave, the lowest rung of the social ladder in the ancient world, the most vulnerable position imaginable. And he did it willingly.
“When he found himself in the form of a human, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
Paul adds that phrase, “even death on a cross,” and it would have shocked his listeners. Crucifixion wasn’t just execution. It was designed to humiliate, to shame, to destroy. Reserved for slaves, criminals, and political threats. The Romans understood that crucifixion wasn’t just physical death. It was social death, spiritual death, the loss of all dignity. And the hymn says Jesus went there. Not because he had to. Because love required it. The downward movement reaches its lowest point. The path goes all the way down.
But then comes the word “therefore,” maybe the most important word in the entire hymn. The exaltation doesn’t come despite the emptying. It comes because of it.
“Therefore, God highly honored him and gave him a name above all names, so that at the name of Jesus everyone in heaven, on earth, and under the earth will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
The universe is restructured by this hymn’s logic. The path down is the path up. The way to power is service. The way to life is the cross. The one who emptied himself, who took the form of a slave, who went to the lowest place, received the name above all names. That’s how God’s economy works. It’s precisely opposite to what the world teaches.
And then Paul turns to his listeners, to us, and says: your turn.
“Carry out your own salvation with fear and trembling. God is the one who enables you both to want and to actually live out his good purposes.”
We’re invited into that same downward path. Not once. Not all at once. But daily. Step by step. Choosing service over status. Choosing community over competition. Choosing to watch out for what is better for others instead of constantly scanning for how everything benefits us.
The beautiful promise embedded in this passage is that we’re not alone in it. The same God who exalted Jesus through emptying enables our emptying too. God shapes our desires. God provides the power. We cooperate with a grace that was moving before we noticed it.
This Christ Hymn became one of the most formative texts in Christian history because it shows us, in crystalline form, what it looks like when someone says yes to God’s call. It’s not a call to achievement. It’s a call to something deeper, to reorient our entire understanding of strength, power, and what it means to be fully alive.
The question the hymn asks us is simple and devastating: What would it look like if you stopped protecting yourself and started pouring yourself out? What would change if you released your grip on status and reached out to serve?
This is part of the Voices of the Bible series from Andrew Conard. Each week we explore the scripture passage for the upcoming sermon, helping you encounter the text before Sunday morning.