The Incarnation's Appeal to Humility (Part 2)

Introduction 

In the last entry, we discussed how Christ’s incarnation, as noted by the early hymn of Philippians 2, appeals to the importance of humility. With the humble model that Christ provided, the believer should follow suit if he or she is truly a Christ-follower. The first half investigated the humble authority and humble assistance (i.e., his willingness to serve others). The second half of our series examines two additional truths that permeate through the humility of Christ’s incarnation. The last two points relate to the importance that faith, or trust, in God has on one’s humble state.

 

The Incarnation’s Appeal to Humble Acceptance (Phil. 2:8)

Humble acceptance of our state is probably among the most difficult of the virtues listed in this article. The hymn notes that Christ “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross” (Phil. 2:8). Christ’s obedient actions correlate with the prayer he encouraged his disciples to pray, saying, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10). Christ realized that the Father’s mission would send him to the cross, and Christ was obedient to accomplish the Father’s will. Reread the last sentence. Contrast this with the muscled-up celebrity pastor who wears flashy apparel and don teeth that are unnaturally white. More to the point, compare Christ’s life to the message being purported by celebrity pastors. Often, they say that God wants you to live your best life, wants you to have a life free from trouble, and that any form of sickness or trial derives from a lack of faith. Is it just me or does this completely contradict the humble lifestyle of Jesus? This is not even a minor interpretive issue. The life of Jesus thoroughly exhibited humility and his messages, particularly the Sermon on the Mount, taught others to live in like manner. If one accepts the validity of messianic prophecy as I do, then it was even prophesied that Jesus would live in such a manner in the Suffering Servant motif of Isaiah 53. Jesus was willing to obey the Father, no matter what the Father’s plan demanded. The flashy, muscular, me-centered Christianity often asserted by the fashionable speakers of our age is quite foreign to the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth.

 

The Incarnation’s Appeal to Humble Assurance (Phil. 2:9–11)

The hymn concludes with a point of great optimism and assurance. The humble life of Jesus would be rewarded. All was not in vain. The hymn declares that Christ …

“humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross. For this reason God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow—in heaven and on earth and under the earth—and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, the to glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:9–11).

As my preacher friends would say, “That will preach!” The first sentence of the stanza ends with Christ’s death on the cross. The next line begins with Christ’s exuberant victory! While space is unavailable to discuss all the nuances and exhilarating details of this passage, suffice it to say, Christ’s humility led to his glorification through the Father’s promises. Does this mean that we should be humble simply to find a reward in heaven? Certainly not. Humility should come from our acknowledgment of God’s glory and our dependence upon him. However, Christ does promise that “everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11). Ultimately, rather than living for an eternal reward, what is called for is faith in God’s promises. It may be that we will not see the fullness of our work until we reach God’s throne. However, if we trust in God’s promises, we know that the blessings he provides us in eternity will far outweigh any temporary afflictions that we may endure. Paul understood this concept, writing, “For our momentary light affliction is producing for us an absolutely incomparable eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17).

Conclusion

This exploration leaves me with a haunting question: If Jesus were to come today, would we recognize him? Would we desire to follow him, particularly with his message, which often contradicts the individualistic, aggrandized, glorification of the self? I am often left to wonder if we have sold the soul of Christianity to create altars for ourselves. To bring a resurgence of authentic Christianity, each of Christ’s followers needs to take time to reflect on the biblical portrayal of Christ. During this Advent season, we have an opportunity to reflect on the life and ministry of Christ. Many churches will hold special services, lighting of the candles, plays, and cantatas. As you participate in these services, allow the Spirit of God to guide you in such a reflection period. Maybe Advent would be a good time to push away social media to spend time with God in his Word. Additionally, consider reading books on the incarnation of Christ. One good resource to consider is Athanasius’s On the Incarnation of the Word of God which can be found online.[1] This Christmas season, stay humble my friends, and keep the faith.

   


 

Brian G. Chilton is the founder of BellatorChristi.com, the host of The Bellator Christi Podcast, and the author of the Layman’s Manual on Christian Apologetics. Brian is a Ph.D. Candidate of the Theology and Apologetics program at Liberty University. He received his Master of Divinity in Theology from Liberty University (with high distinction); his Bachelor of Science in Religious Studies and Philosophy from Gardner-Webb University (with honors); and received certification in Christian Apologetics from Biola University. Brian is a member of the Evangelical Theological Society and the Evangelical Philosophical Society. Brian has served in pastoral ministry for nearly 20 years and currently serves as a clinical chaplain.

https://www.amazon.com/Laymans-Manual-Christian-Apologetics-Essentials/dp/1532697104

 

© 2021. MoralApologetics.com.


[1] See Athanasius of Alexandria, On the Incarnation of the Word of God, in Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 2nd series, Archibald Robertson, trans (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1892), https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/2802.htm.

The Incarnation's Appeal to Humility

Humility seems to be a lost spiritual discipline these days. If not completely lost, it is not practiced that often. Fast-talking, foul-mouthed, egocentric personalities seem to be elevated to the point of heroic status, possibly because those individuals are representative of those who take little flak from anyone or anything. Arguably, the antihero has risen to the status of the American ideal. But does this represent the nature of the One whose birth we celebrate every December 25th?

From the time of Thanksgiving until Christmas, the church enters the phase of the liturgical calendar called Advent. This is a time of preparation for Christmas when the birth of Christ is celebrated. Much ink has been spilled concerning the correct dating of Jesus’s birth.[1] Are we celebrating the correct date of Jesus’s birth, or should we celebrate in the spring or fall? To be honest, the older I get, the less importance I see in pinning down the exact date of Jesus’s birth, outside of academic interest alone. While theories abound, it may be impossible to know with any degree of certainty what the precise date of Jesus’s birth is.

The more important issue is to take time each year to contemplate the birth of Jesus and what it means for the Christian faith. In AD 335, Athanasius of Alexandria penned one of his most famed and endearing works entitled On the Incarnation of the Word of God. In his work, Athanasius writes, “For He became Man that we might be made God: and He manifested Himself through the body that we might take cognizance of the invisible Father: and He underwent insult at the hands of men that we might inherit immortality.”[2] Athanasius points to the humility of Christ as exhibited by the sacrifice that he would ultimately make.

The most remarkable aspect of Christ’s incarnation is that he left a state of perfect bliss to enjoin himself with humanity. Philippians 2:6–11 is an amazing passage of Scripture. Most likely, it is an early Christian hymn that predates the New Testament writings. The hymn makes the connection of Christ’s humility as exhibited through his incarnation. Before citing the hymn, Paul teaches that believers should “Adopt the same attitude as that of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:5).[3] What can we learn about humility from Christ’s incarnation? I argue that we can learn four spiritual principles from the humility in Christ’s incarnation. The first article will examine the first two, whereas the second will peer into the last set.

 

The Incarnation’s Appeal to Humble Authority (Phil. 2:6)

The hymn begins by noting that Christ, “who, existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God as something to be exploited” (Phil. 2:6). The term aJpagmo;n (hapagmon), translated “exploited,” indicates something that is not held on to forcibly.”[4] The Moody Bible Commentary, in my opinion, rightly interprets verse 6 as saying that “Jesus does not exploit His equality with God for selfish ends.”[5] Jesus remained God, and his position did not change when he became a human being. Rather, Jesus humbly walked among humanity. Even though he had greater authority than any living human being ever had, or ever would have, Jesus continued to live a humble life. In like manner, believers must walk even more humbly, as we have far less authority than Jesus. Rather than being obsessed with power, authority, or prestige, believers would do well to remember their humble state when compared to the awesome authority of God.

 

The Incarnation’s Appeal to Humble Assistance (Phil. 2:7)

The hymn continues by noting, “Instead [Christ] emptied himself by assuming the form of a servant, taking on the likeness of humanity” (Phil. 2:7). Throughout his life, Jesus taught, led, and modeled servant leadership. Even though he held more authority than anyone ever could ever imagine, he led by serving. The text says that Christ “emptied himself.” Theories abound on what this means,[6] but all would agree that this is humility personified. Imagine this: The King of kings, who was in the highest court of all time (i.e., the divine council), allowed himself to be born in a dirty, stinky manger.

Compare this to the modern mindset that many hold today. I worked in an environment a few years ago, where the employees had been asked to assist the custodian with his duties, where possible. The custodian had suffered from some heart problems. His doctor had discouraged him from lifting anything heavy, including trash bags, which could weigh well over 20 lbs. To assist him until he could fully recover, leadership requested that we the employees help him by throwing away the trash bags into the trash bin. Most of the employees were more than willing to help the custodian. To assist the custodian, I grabbed a couple of the trash bags and loaded them into the cart so that they could be taken out. At the time that this occurred, I was still working on my bachelor’s degree. One employee looked at me and said, “I have earned a master’s degree. I don’t do things like that anymore!” This startled me. Did the individual take out their own trash? One would think so. Furthermore, does obtaining degrees in higher education remove the need for one to perform menial tasks? Now that I am working on the last phases of my dissertation for my Ph.D. program, I need to talk to somebody, because something has not worked out right for me. After all, I am still required to perform daily tasks like taking out the trash. (In case your sarcasm detector is broken, I am, of course, speaking tongue-in-cheek.)

The employee’s reaction is commonplace in modern society. Many people, myself included, have sought to obtain positions and statuses where others look up to us. I am, quite honestly, startled how social media has brought out our incessant desire to be seen, heard, and appreciated. Being seen, heard, and loved are not necessarily bad things, mind you. Such desires merely illustrate the needs of the human heart. However, the problem comes when these desires overwhelm us and become obsessive, to the point of exhibiting narcissistic traits, where others are cast down at the altar of our own ego. When we become infatuated with the number of likes our posts hold, the number of awards we have, and the standing we have among others, we are not focused on the virtues of Christ. Such actions stand directly opposed to the model that Christ afforded and expects from us.

Conclusion

Thus far, we have learned that Christ’s incarnation emphasized humility in his authority. That is, even though Christ had the highest authority that any could hold, he did not flaunt his authority and neither did he use his authority as a means to boast. Rather, he assumed the role of a lowly servant. By this point alone, we should all stop to consider how counteracts some segments of Western Christianity that appeals to the idea of domination by force. Secondly, we noted how Christ’s incarnation speaks to the need of humble assistance. That is, the believer should not seek to be served, but rather to serve. Already, the incarnation has challenged us to the core regarding humility—or at least it has me. In the next entry, we will investigate how Christ’s acceptance and assurance speaks to our need for humility.


[1] I have written on the different possibilities of Jesus’s birth date at BellatorChristi.com. See Brian Chilton, “When and What Time Was Jesus Born,” BellatorChristi.com (12/19/2017), https://bellatorchristi.com/2017/12/19/when-and-what-time-was-jesus-born/.

[2] Athanasius of Alexandria, Athanasius: On the Incarnation of the Word of God, 2nd ed, T. Herbert Bindley, trans (London: The Religious Tract Society, 1903), 142.

[3] Unless otherwise noted, all quoted Scripture comes from the Christian Standard Bible (Nashville, TN: Holman, 2020).

[4] 57.236, in Johannes P. Louw and Eugene Albert Nida, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains (New York: United Bible Societies, 1996), 583.

[5] Gerald W. Peterman, “Philippians,” in The Moody Bible Commentary, Michael A. Rydelnik and Michael Vanlaningham, eds (Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers, 2014), 1861.

[6] Three theories provide a possible interpretation. 1) The kenotic theory holds that Christ emptied himself of his divine attributes while on earth. 2) The incarnation view asserts that Christ merely emptied his nature into humanity by assuming the form of a servant. 3) The Servant of the Lord portrait views the term “emptying” as a metaphor of the Servant of the Lord motif in Isaiah 53. As Hansen notes, the Philippians hymn could provide an interpretation that holds some elements of all three. Walter G. Hansen, The Letter to the Philippians, Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans; Apollos, 2009), 146.


Brian G. Chilton is the founder of BellatorChristi.com, the host of The Bellator Christi Podcast, and the author of the Layman’s Manual on Christian Apologetics. Brian is a Ph.D. Candidate of the Theology and Apologetics program at Liberty University. He received his Master of Divinity in Theology from Liberty University (with high distinction); his Bachelor of Science in Religious Studies and Philosophy from Gardner-Webb University (with honors); and received certification in Christian Apologetics from Biola University. Brian is a member of the Evangelical Theological Society and the Evangelical Philosophical Society. Brian has served in pastoral ministry for nearly 20 years and currently serves as a clinical chaplain.

https://www.amazon.com/Laymans-Manual-Christian-Apologetics-Essentials/dp/1532697104

 

© 2021. MoralApologetics.com.

Good King Wenceslas: An Allegory of Advent

Good King Wenceslas, illustrated in Christmas Carols, New and Old

Good King Wenceslas, illustrated in Christmas Carols, New and Old

One Advent night in 1982 we attended a Christmas choral concert in the Bristol Cathedral in England.  Though I knew the “Good King Wenceslas” carol, I had never paid attention to the lyrics.  That night the majestic orchestra, joined with the cathedral choristers and choir, dramatized the Wenceslas lyrics in such a way the joy and awe of the Gospel message transfixed me.  As we share verse by verse this carol’s allegory, rejoice this Christmas season. God entered His world to rescue helpless souls like you and me!

Stanza One

Good King Wenceslas look’d out, On the feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round-a-bout, Deep and crisp and even.

Brightly shone the moon that night, Though the frost was cruel,

When a poor man came in sight, Gath’ring winter fuel.

 

On the Feast of St. Stephen’s, the day after Christmas or “Boxing Day,” the celebrations of giving and receiving continue.  King Wenceslas is comfortably settled in his great castle.  Fifteen-foot Christmas fir trees grace the palace drawing rooms with their candlelight and royal baubles.  Holly and berry swags adorn huge fireplace mantels.   Golden candelabras throw flickering warmth across the hall.  The king’s fireplaces blaze with forest logs.  His vast tracts of woodlands and forest supply against the coldest winter nights.  The king’s massive palace radiates with family cheer and contentment. He lacks for nothing. 

Good King Wenceslas embodies God.  Sovereign of worlds seen and unseen, He commands seventy sextillion known stars.  He is Monarch of more shining, heavenly spheres than ten times the grains of sand on earth’s deserts and beaches.  The earth is His and “everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.” “For every beast of the forest is mine,” says the Lord.  Wenceslas’ kingdom is the cosmos resplendent with light, order, and plenty.

The St. Stephen’s winterscape captivates the eye – at least from the sovereign’s side of the window pane.  Contented after a day of festivities, King Wenceslas looks out. The snow is “deep and crisp and even,” glistening in the moonlight.  The idyllic picture is betrayed by the fierce cold.  No one dare venture out on a night like this; yet, against the snow a dark figure intrudes into the king’s gaze. What’s that man doing out there on a night like this?  Rummaging for wood on the holiday?  Why does he not have wood?  Was he slack in stocking up in the summer?  Now he is come to trespass on the king’s property? 

This poor man rummaging for wood on a frigid night is every person’s ill state. Prophets painted our picture gloomy: “Cursed is the ground…. Through painful toil you will eat … and the pride of men humbled…. There is an outcry in the streets for lack of wine … all the merry-hearted sigh … people loved darkness … because their deeds were evil.” Ignorance of our blindness and rebellion against God cover like darkness. Human life is lived under sin as “far as the curse is found.”  Pitiable and bound to self and fleshly passions the “flood of mortal ills” and evils overtake us.  Under the power of sin, ruin and misery overtake our paths.  We are the desperate man come into sight scrounging every which way to survive against the cruel winter’s wrath.

 

Stanza Two

‘Hither, page, and stand by me, If thou know’st it telling,

Yonder peasant, who is he?  Where and what his dwelling?’

‘Sire, he lives a good league hence, Underneath the mountain,

Right against the forest fence, By Saint Agnes’ fountain.’

 

 “Come, here, page,” says King Wenceslas to his attendant. “Yonder peasant, who is he, where and what is his home?”  Little does the poor peasant know he is being watched, even by the king himself.  “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation,” said Henry David Thoreau.  “God will never see,” they say.  “The universe is dumb, stone deaf, and blank and wholly blind.”  Oh? Are not “the eyes of the Lord … in every place”?  Is not “his eye … on the sparrow?”   “Where can I flee from your presence?” asks the Psalmist. Under Pharaoh’s whip, Israel was unaware God was witnessing their misery. “I have observed the misery of my people … I have heard their cry … I know their sufferings,” said the Lord.

 King Wenceslas is not gawking.  The monarch is moved by the poor man’s need.   “I have surely seen the mistreatment of my people … I have heard their groaning,” the Lord God said.

 

 

Stanza Three

 “Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, Bring me pinelogs hither:

Thou and I shall see him dine, When we bear them Thither.”

Page and monarch, forth they went, Forth they went together;

Through the rude wind’s wild lament And the bitter weather.

 

One would think the king would snap his fingers, issue a command, and servants would rush to the poor man’s aid.  What? The monarch himself is going?  “You and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither.”  “No sire, this is contrary to protocol.  The Royal Court does not enter the peasant’s world.” “My subject’s welfare is my own.  Forgo the Court’s couch ... leave the velvet slippers and bring me snow boots.” 

 Incognito the king goes into the furious night.  He takes no retinue of riders, carriages, and security guards.  This is no “photo op” for the 6 o’clock news.  This is not to win the peasant’s vote.

The poor man’s predicament reveals the God who pities our human condition.  “He doesn’t forget the cry of the afflicted…. As a Father pities his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him…. But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious.”  Rich King Wenceslas becomes the poor peasant.  The punishing night is now his.  “Though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, so that by His poverty you might become rich.” Christ who was God gave up everything to enter our world.  “The Word was God…. And the Word became flesh and lived among us….”

 

See the Lord of earth and skies

Humbled to the Dust He is.

And in a Manger lies.

 

The Creator comes into his own universe.  The King enters His own woods. Unheralded and unknown He came to his own home, yet the world did not know Him. He leaves heaven and submits Himself to our sinful existence.  He even dies unjustly on a cursed cross to save trespassing sinners. He did it incognito … disguised … rejected … as just another commoner abroad on a foul night. 

 

Stanza Four

“Sire, the night is darker now, And the wind grows stronger;

Fails my heart I know not how; I can go no longer.”

“Mark my footsteps, my good page, Tread thou in them boldly;

Thou shalt find the winter’s rage Freeze thy blood less coldly.”

 

In stanza four, the king’s page comes to the fore in the story.  He is accompanying the king on the mission.  Jesus called disciples to accompany Him.  They go with Him to join in His mission of salvation. As they go, they encounter opposition. The night grows darker.  The winds blow stronger.  Opposition intensifies.  Inspiration grows weak.  The servant can go no farther.  “Sire, the night is darker now, And the wind blows stronger, Fails my heart I know not how, I can go no longer.”  Ever felt you can go no longer?  Sighing you say, “Lord, I have had enough.” 

Sheet music of "Good King Wenceslas" in a biscuit container from 1913, preserved at the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Sheet music of "Good King Wenceslas" in a biscuit container from 1913, preserved at the Victoria and Albert Museum.

The fleshly servant is not up to his Master’s task.  Nonetheless, in his/her weakness, the disciple discovers God’s strength.  The Master’s greatness is manifest.  The King will save the poor soul … and bring His weak disciple along with Him.  The Sovereign’s grace, solace, help, encouragement, and strength reveal themselves under affliction. “Mark my footsteps, my good page, Tread thou in them boldly, You shall find the winter’s rage, Freeze thy blood less coldly.”  Our Master is ahead of us trodding down the snow, cutting a path, and forming our steps for us. The Master’s very footsteps heat up us servants’ cold.

 

Stanza Five

In his master’s steps he trod, Where the snow lay dinted;

Heat was in the very sod, Which the saint had printed.

Therefore, Christian men, be sure, Wealth or rank possessing,

Ye who now will bless the poor, Shall yourselves find blessing.

 

Indeed, the “Good King Wenceslas” carol dramatizes poignantly our Christian responsibility to the poor and disenfranchised. Nevertheless, I see a deeper allegory.  The King forgoes his palace to enter a fierce world in order to rescue a helpless man.  Christ Jesus leaves heaven, empties Himself, becomes flesh, and suffers death on a cross to save helpless humankind.  The Master calls His servants to go with him in His mission of bringing abundant life to endangered sinners in this dark, rude world.  We offer Jesus Christ and ourselves to helpless sinners in a frightful world.  As we go, He goes with and before us treading out our path.

 


TomThomasStaffPhoto.jpg

Tom was most recently pastor of the Bellevue Charge in Forest, Virginia until retiring in July. Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house. Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary from 1998-2003. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife Pam have two children, Karissa, who is an Associate Attorney at McCandlish Holton Morris in Richmond, and, John, who is a junior communications major/business minor at Regent University. Tom enjoys being outdoors in his parkland woods and sitting by a cheery fire with a good book on a cool evening.

Tom Thomas

Tom was most recently pastor of the Bellevue Charge in Forest, Virginia until retiring in July.  Studying John Wesley’s theology, he received his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Bristol, Bristol, England. While a student, he and his wife Pam lived in John Wesley’s Chapel “The New Room”, Bristol, England, the first established Methodist preaching house.  Tom was a faculty member of Asbury Theological Seminary from 1998-2003. He has contributed articles to Methodist History and the Wesleyan Theological Journal. He and his wife Pam have two children, Karissa, who is an Associate Attorney at McCandlish Holton Morris in Richmond, and, John, who is a junior communications major/business minor at Regent University.  Tom enjoys being outdoors in his parkland woods and sitting by a cheery fire with a good book on a cool evening.