Readings: Philippians 2. 1-13 & Ezekiel 18. 1-4, 25-32
A few weeks ago I preached on Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman and observed that outward conformity does not make for a lively faith. Our Gospel reading today in many ways follows a similar theme and so I thought I’d take the chance to focus instead on that well known passage in Philippians and spend some time rejoicing in Christ.
Because the central part of that reading is that well known passage which may have been an early Christian hymn or creed, hence it being laid out slightly differently in your Bibles. And it rejoices over what Christ has done for us.
Because in the beginning God the Son was there, the second person of the Trinity has always been, just as the Father and the Spirit have always been. As we confess in the Nicene Creed he is God from God, light from light, true God from true God. In every way he is God.
And what does he do with that divinity? He looks at a world which is burning, a world which is tearing itself apart, a world which he created, a world which he loves, a people whom he loves. As we heard in our first reading God is a God of justice, he will not let sin go unpunished, for to do so would be unjust, instead he holds all accountable for their own deeds. And yet all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory. As Paul writes to the Romans, quoting the Psalms, there is no-one righteous, not even one, all have turned away.
And yet we also read in that first passage from Ezekiel that God takes no pleasure in the death of anyone, instead he longs that all should turn from their wickedness and live. And so in this sense there’s a paradox at the heart of God. He longs that all should live, that all should be saved from death and punishment. And yet he also longs for true justice and in a just world we are all rightly condemned, we’ve sinned since we got out of bed this morning. So how will this be resolved? How will this paradox at the heart of God find its resolution?
It finds its solution in the fact that Jesus doesn’t think of himself first, the Son of God, indeed the Trinity, isn’t selfish. Instead as he looks upon this world he is moved with compassion. And so God the Son steps off his throne. He casts aside his riches, lays aside his heavenly glory, he lays down his independence and his favourable position with regard to God’s law. God the Son descends, casting aside everything as he does so. He empties himself and becomes human. The God of the universe descends from the heights and comes into the mess and dirt and brokenness of our world. We fell from glory, we threw it away in rebellion, God the Son freely steps down from glory knowing what that means.
And what does he do when he gets here? Rule over everything? Build an army and conquer? No, he makes himself nothing and takes the nature of a servant. He walks the slums, attends to the needs of others, bringing life and healing. His descent doesn’t stop when he reaches earth, he continues to descend into the depths of human mess and misery, found with the lowest of the low.
But he’s not done descending yet, he’ll stoop even lower. Because the paradox is not yet resolved. He teaches and preaches and brings people back to God, he shows them how to live, the way that God calls us to live. He calls all to repentance, but the very fact that we need to repent speaks of our sinfulness.
So Christ stoops even lower, being found as one of us, as a human being, yet without sin, he chooses to die our death, to bear our punishment, to ransom us from sin and death and hell. Sin must be dealt with in the flesh. It can’t be wiped away with some clever fiddling of the numbers. The debt must be paid, the ransom covered. And so in taking on our flesh God the Son becomes one of us. And in being one of us can die for us, can bear upon himself that punishment.
God steps into our world in order to live the perfect life we could not live, so that he could bear the punishment we could never bear. At the cross all our sin and mess and shame is plunged down into the death it deserves. Christ bears it on himself down into death, down into the hell it deserves. Stoops to the lowest depths carrying our sin with him.
Christ is humble in a ways we could never be. He doesn’t say, look at me I’m perfect, learn from me. He says look to me, as I bear your sins away. There are no depths that God will not go to rescue you, no place he will not stoop to that he might redeem you. There is no darkness in this world that he has not been to looking for you.
Christ is obedient when we could not be, obeys his Father, willingly and joyfully, even to death, the most excruciating death we’ve ever invented, so that we can be brought back to him. Once we were cast out of Eden, out of perfection, from our disobedience, bearing our sin away from the face of God’s glory. Now God walks out of the city, in his glory, in obedience, bearing our sins away from us.
But the Gospel isn’t just about descent, about how far Christ will stoop for us. Because in his stooping he has become yet more glorious. The glory he had before from the foundation of the world is now magnified in his stooping and so God raises him up, raises him to life again, and more than that, not only raises him to life but then sets Christ in the highest place, sets him in the heavens still bearing our humanity, and gives him the name that is above every name. Christ’s Resurrection and Ascension are two parts of one movement. Raised to this life, and further upward into glory. And one day, at the end of time, when Christ returns, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Christ is Lord that the Father might be glorified.
But this rising isn’t merely Christ rising. We are raised with him, for all of us who were once dead in our sins, lost before God, having placed our faith, our hope, our trust in him, having come in repentance, turning from our sins, Christ raises us with him. As we come to Christ we find the resolution to that paradox, sin has been condemned in the flesh, and so in coming to Christ he forgives us, the Father draws us near. It is not just Jesus who has been exalted to the highest place but us with him. We have been raised from death to life. We have been raised from the depths of sin from the dirt of our world, back to life, life in this world and are now being raised with him to the highest heaven.
And on that day when every knee bows, Christ will renew all things. The old order of sin and death will pass away and all will be made new. There will be a new heaven, and a new earth, God will dwell with his people, creation restored. All as it should be. All of creation raised with Christ back to the heights of God’s glory.
He becomes like us, so that we can become like him.
Why is Paul reminding the Philippians of all of this. Why is he reminding them of Christ’s humility and exaltation? Because if Christ is like this with us, we should be like this with one another. Servanthood begins with a proper evaluation of ourselves. And if the God of the universe thinks not of himself but descends from the highest heights to the lowest depths, how much more should we stoop down in humility to serve one another?
And to do so is not burdensome as we may fear. For how did Paul begin this section? If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, any comfort from his love, any common sharing in the Spirit, any tenderness and compassion. We live this way because we are one with Jesus, he is like this and so this way of being flows down to us. We’ve experienced the comfort of his love, his tenderness and compassion and so of course we will show this to our brothers and sisters here, and in all God’s church. We share in his Spirit, the Holy Spirit, who empowers us to live this way.
My brothers and sisters, the true Christian will never say ‘don’t you know who I am’, instead we are to serve one another. Knowing that God has stooped to the lowest place, we also ought to stoop down in service to one another. Knowing that it is God who works in us to fulfil his good purpose. And in our stooping, God will raise us up, with Christ, until at the last, he is all in all.
Amen.