Chapter VIII – The Character of Christ: His Death

For let this disposition be in you, which is in Christ Jesus also, Who, being inherently in the form of God, deems it not pillaging to be equal with God, nevertheless empties Himself, taking the form of a slave, coming to be in the likeness of humanity, and, being found in fashion as a human, He humbles Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.

genomenos (BECOMing) hupEkoos (OBEDIENT) mechri (UNTO) thanatou (DEATH) de (YET) tou (OF-THE) staurou (PALE)

Two Deaths

“It has been said, and truly said, ‘The supreme crises of history are centered in the disobedience of the first man (Adam) and in the obedience of the Second (Christ).’ Adam disobeyed the only command God had given to him and, in so doing, revolted against the authority of God. The second Man ‘humbles Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross’ (Phil.2:8).” – Dean Hough, Unsearchable Riches, Volume 98, p. 174

There are two aspects to the humbling of Christ:

1.    His obedience unto death

2.    His obedience unto the death of the cross

Both are deserving of their own consideration, and we will do so. Considerable length will be given to the latter, but it is important to stress the former before anything else, for the Trinitarian disbelieves it, and the Socinian often ignores it, through their own claims on the passage.

Obedience Unto Death

Death is humiliating. It is absent from the concept of “nature,” which we briefly touched upon in the last video, and which I (Stephen) touch on when considering Rom. 2:14 in my Romans study. It is directly affiliated with sin (Rom. 5:12.) Where there is sin, there is death. Where there is death, there is sin. The proof that we are imperfect is found in the degradation of our bodily functions over the course of our lives.

Unfortunately, because we psychologically come to take horrific things as a matter of course, death is not treated as the enemy that it is. Mankind, especially in the 21^st century, has taken up an unhealthy nihilism, in all ways turning its nose up at scripture while hardly observing scripture’s answer to the great problem of death.

Scripture answers death in the name of Jesus Christ. It takes the Image of God, changes His form, and establishes Him as a human embryo on the earth. He goes from the form of God – from observing creation at its beginning, properly representing the Father, saying, “It is good” – to a crying baby. He was the most helpless Subjector in the universe. He needed help with the umbilical cord. He was plopped in a cow trough, in the middle of nowhere. He cried, with only His mother’s warmth to console Him.

There are many exhortations on the life of Jesus, His growth in wisdom and stature (Luke 2:53,) His baptism, in which it is affirmed for Him that He is the Son of God (Matt. 3:16,) and His various signs for the Jewish community. Through all of these, Jesus’ body grew. It changed. He got hot. He got cold. He was hungry – sometimes went hungry. His body appeared older than it was (John 8:57.)

The previous paragraph baffled the apostles. They knew there was something off about Him (Matt. 8:28.) They recognized His position as a Son of God (Matt. 16:15-16.) They struggled with His bold claims, as everyone else did (John 6:61-62.) If this One truly represented what the title – Son of God – truly implied, then why was He like them?

Such juxtaposition, in my opinion, finds its zenith in the four accounts in John 13–

Jesus, being aware that the Father has given all into His hands, and that He came out from God and is going away to God, is rising from dinner and is laying down His garments, and, getting a cloth, He girds Himself. Thereafter He is draining water into the basin, and begins washing the feet of the disciples and wiping them off with the cloth with which He was girded.

He is coming, then, to Simon Peter. And he is saying to Him, “Lord, You are washing my feet!”

Jesus answered and said to him, “What I am doing you are not aware at present, yet you will know after these things.”

This One – that has received all from the Creator of the universe – gets down on His knees and washes the feet of some hick fisherman. This was so radical, that even the fisherman was uncomfortable. But it drives the point home perfectly. Jesus’ disposition is not one of haughty impatience, but humility in light of the allotment He held.

The shame of His body’s decay, then, cannot be understated. And here, in Philippians, Paul deepens our understanding far and away above John’s epistle. He continually pushes us to consider things from the celestial perspective, which is why He began the greatest example of self-abasement with Christ’s emptying. Here, Jesus was not merely coerced into a frightening situation, as one could reason out from the four accounts. Even before His ministry, before He may have even been aware that He was doing it, His spirit became (middle voice form of gennao) obedient unto death.

To this day, the celestials must still be marveling at such an event. Until this point, they evidently believed that control by the numbers functioned best. Various religions of man have died off over the last 2,000 years, and many celestials have instead dared to adulterate scripture to conquer again. Yet Christ’s complete lack of pride in self stands tall, regardless of their opinions or moves. They themselves are destined to be reconciled through these events, and that, I theorize, is as startling an effect as the self-abasement itself.

Through Christ’s early life, and well into His ministry, He was being perfected. He had to learn obedience (Heb. 5:8.) It has been asked, “Does this mean that Christ, at any time, was disobedient?” The answer is no. He was without Sin (2 Cor. 5:20.) We may safely infer, then, that He would have been obedient without realizing it. Such a concept should be true regardless of when you believe Christ was created. Christ was always obedient to the Father’s will, and in this case, His Father willed that Christ was to be obedient unto death – but this was not tested until the sufferings He endured (Heb. 5:8.)

The process of dying, for Christ, continually educated Him toward what it meant to obey such a master. If Christ had, at any time, disobeyed this master, then He would have, in turn, disobeyed God’s will for Him at that time, and thus there would be no grounds for His rousing. This yet again reinforces the fact that Christ had a spirit completely unlike ours. Whereas we are infected with Rebellion itself, Christ held no such infirmity. His spirit, unlike ours, gave life – abundant life, the likes of which only God could convey.

The clear implication here is that, in all ways, Christ was handicapped. He had a superhuman spirit, yet had come to be in our likeness. He was alone in the crowd – alive, yet practically buried in a crypt. He was mortal only in the sense that He could die – not in the sense that He was indeed dying, or He would not have had to “obey” death.

What Sayest Thou, Theologian?

It has, through all of this, been apparent that your average Trinitarian simply disbelieves the passage. Rationally, no Trinitarian can claim that Jesus was obeying death and remain a Trinitarian, for they are inherently claiming that God Himself became subject to the dying state that He had inflicted on the unrighteous. This would be completely out of character with all of His prior action in the Old Testament – demanding that the Israelite raise himself up to righteousness, and refusing to arbitrarily lower the standards of right and wrong for anyone. For Him to turn around and suddenly do just that casts a pall over all of His prior actions, making Him unjust.

Worse still, if the Creator places Himself under death, then no one can get Him out. If it is argued that He “can magically choose to get Himself out of it at any time,” then He is not truly obedient unto death. If He proceeds to the death of the cross, and yet somehow magically resurrects three days later, then He would have needed some kind of conscious awareness even in death, in order to know how and when to raise Himself – and thus He is not truly obedient unto death. And, most of all, if you must argue some elaborate ontological stance in order to say, in short, something like “God could die and then raise Himself and this is completely normal and okay,” then you will simply not be treated as a rational individual from any true scripture student, as you are throwing personal theology in there as a direct means of evading both the simple truth that Christ is inherently “in the form of God” – not God Himself – and twisting the concept of death, so as to deny the sacrifice Paul warns us not to deny.

The Socinian’s case is not much better. Keep in mind that, up until this point, the Reformation theologian has turned this passage into a figurative mess. Let us briefly track this view through Liam McAllister’s video on ‘Christ’s Incarnation.’ To Liam, recall, “Form of God” is some “rank or station,” or “role” which Christ held – an internal title, not an outward appearance (he says, in more recent videos on the subject, that “role” and “appearance” are one and the same; such a claim is irrational.) Thus, he claims, Christ enters the “form of God,” that is, as His “only-begotten Son” (alluding to Clyde Pilkington’s commentary) when He begins His ministry (thus making the “likeness of an image of a corruptible man” the outward appearance of God.) Worse still, at the point of contact – the moment Christ is brought into chains in the Garden of Gethsemane – He is said to undergo a “role change,” so that He no longer has the role of “only-begotten” (per Clyde’s commentary, or “Agent of God,” per Liam’s commentary,) when He is at the cross, and this is what is meant by “role of a slave!”

Worse still, to “empty Himself” is, according to Liam, “a way of describing Christ’s humble disposition… even though He was God’s Son, He humbled Himself, and became a servant. Every time Jesus voluntarily submitted His will and desire to His Father’s instead of asserting His own, He effectively emptied Himself – not of His ‘divine nature,’ or of a body… but of His pride… of all ambition, self-preservation, and selfish desire.”

Such a view is startingly foolish, for two reasons. First, to change the personality of Christ from one of inherent selflessness and love to one plagued with the internal qualities of sin is one of the worst demarcations of our Lord that I’ve ever read (and I’ve read a lot of Christian literature.) Our Lord did not empty Himself of qualities which He never internally battled, or of which He never held (2 Cor. 5:21, 1 Pet. 1:19-20.) If there is a way to read Philippians 2 as if Christ was non-existent at the beginning of the story, this would certainly not be the re-write necessary to attain such a view.

The second reason is shown in Liam showing he has not studied the concordant media on this passage (now compiled and freely available in the “Concordant Course” Google drive.) Time and time again, it is asserted by students of the Concordant Greek Text that “empties” is not limited to a “body” or of some “nature.” Ambiguous terminology should be thrust aside. Christ empties Himself of all. There is, again, naught which He held in the form of God which He takes into the form of a slave, given the force of the term “empties.” No qualification of the verb is given; to add one is to add to the word of God.

Besides these major problems concerning Liam’s perception of our Lord, there is another major issue which begs our attention. On the phrase “likeness of humanity,” Liam claims that this is only “re-affirming Christ’s humble status when He conformed Himself to the disposition of an ordinary man.” Such a statement is bafflingly contradictory to Paul’s foundational claim concerning the ordinary man’s disposition toward God – enmity (Rom. 8:7,) and in emotional terms, “irreverent” and “unjust” (Rom. 1:18.) The ordinary man’s disposition is not one of humility; it is the mature man’s disposition of humility that we are entreated to grow into (Phil. 2:3-5, 3:15-16.)

It is further problematic to presume that the Image of God would, for some reason, have needs to conform to the disposition of an “ordinary man.” If Christ is the Image, the Just Representative of God, then at no point should His disposition have to “change.” He would accurately reflect God at any given point during His existence, irrespective of His form. By claiming that His disposition “changed” into the “likeness of man’s,” there must be the logical concession that it was unlike man’s at some other point (worse still, if we are following Liam’s opinion, then Christ’s disposition must have been like God’s disposition, making it all the more confusing that He would have any reason to change that disposition at the cross when He alone is supposed to beat sin. If He’s in the ultimate battle against Sin herself, then there is no scriptural reason for Him to take the disposition of man, who knows nothing of how to beat sin. He would have to maintain the disposition of the One who beats Sin!)

Yet even this is all a red herring. Paul does not say “likeness of man’s disposition,” but “likeness of humanity.” He does not say “being found, in fashion, as a man’s servitude,” but “being found, in fashion, as a man.” Liam’s view seems to presume that everything following “empties Himself” in this passage is repetitious, saying practically the same thing with little difference – Christ conforms Himself, and also conforms Himself, and too conforms Himself. Such repetitious writing is flawed, and leaves room for the idea that God’s word is imperfect.

With all of this illogical service (which, by the way, has hardly dared to confront a single point presented both in this article, and the writings of other prolific writers in the body of Christ, such as A.E. Knoch or the previous writings of Thijs Amersfoort,) how, may we ask, does Liam deal with the two uses of death in Philippians?

The answer is that he doesn’t deal with it at all. As far as I’ve seen, there has not yet been mention of the two uses of “death” in the passage from the Socinian camp.

…I’m sorry, I know. I was building that up for a little bit, there. I wanted the let-down to be as impactful for you as it was for me. If you are ready to knock Liam for ignoring the first use of death completely, I kindly ask that you do not do this. You would be missing the forest for the trees. I would recommend, instead, that you knock the poor reasoning that led to ignoring this phrase completely, which is not limited to Liam. To maintain this reasoning, and intentionally dismiss the facts which oppose it, indicates that one is caught in a trap, and in need of much consolation.

It has been suggested (as is briefly hinted by Peter Meye in his three and a half hour treatise,) that the two uses of death are simply for “emphasis,” and nothing more. Yet this could not be further from the truth. The Greek, simply put, does not repeat words like this for emphasis. If a phrase is ever repeated, it is structural (see ‘anathema’ in Gal. 1:8-9, or “rejoice” in Phil. 4:4.) Otherwise, any repetitious terminology is separated by conjunctions, prepositions, and particles (see examples like Rom. 1:17, 2 Cor. 2:16, 4:17, and 8:22.) Notably, in every repetitious use, the thought is expanded upon, noting a progression of thought, as opposed to merely “repeating the same idea in a different way,” or “exclaiming” or “clarification.”

In other words, every time Paul employs this repetition, both terms are inherently valuable to his thought, yet the second term always expands upon the first.

As such, there is no plausible way to assume that the first use of “death” is the same as the second use of “death.” The first use of “death” is given no specification, while the second use of “death” is specially regarding the cross. The first use of “death,” then, must relate to the frail figure that Christ was found in, and which led to His humility, as the prior two clauses indicate, apart from the cross, and cannot include it.

Thus the Socinian spins for himself another insoluble conundrum: If Christ is said to “become obedient unto death” at the cross, then Paul is redundant for repeating the same phrase twice, making a mockery of God’s perfect writing. Further, the Socinian defeats his own existential argument. Christ must be Man, indeed, for the sacrifice to eventually reconcile all creation, but by claiming that Christ became obedient unto death at some point during His ministry or at the cross, it is conceded that He is somehow unlike man, for unlike man, He would not have suffered the death process as we all have suffered hitherto. He would thus have to give credence to the scriptural claim that we are reading – that Christ existed prior to His physical birth.

Moreover, if He was involuntarily subject to death prior to the cross, then He is a tarnished sacrifice, and both law and the old creation would still be rampant, since a regular guy was murdered – not the Son of God (Rom. 8:3-4.) And, if He achieved the ability to “become obedient” unto death at the cross, then ironically, the Socinian has turned humility into a standardized, impossible disposition to attain, for we would be striving to “become obedient unto death,” which not one since Christ has effected, nor would anyone ever be able to attain it.

A Brief Treatise

By the time we have reached the final clause concerning Christ’s humiliation – “even the death of the cross” – it should be readily apparent that neither the Trinitarian nor the Socinian understand the passage as a whole. Many interpretive aspects must be called into question for both – their ability to apprehend the progression of the aorist, their recognition of the character of Christ, their ability to retain simple definitions and terms, their ability to spot logistical errors in their own arguments, and their ability to debar personal philosophy from the passage. It follows that there should be no real reason to endorse any teaching made by these men on these grounds, as our apostle testifies concerning other believers (1 Tim. 6:3-5.) For if these men retain such questionable practices on one passage, then who is to say they are not conducting the same questionable means on another?

For example… If the pre-supposed methodology of both of these parties is to be taken at face value, then we may employ it on passages from major points in Romans as a means to deny plain statements. In Romans 3:22, we read that apart from law, there is “a righteousness of God through Jesus Christ’s faith, for all and on all who are believing.” Why can’t we treat faith as a metaphor, as the Socinian does here? Why can’t we simply change “God” to “Christ,” as the Trinitarian does? Take, maybe, a look at 1 Corinthians 15:22-28. Why don’t we pre-suppose that being “in” Christ comes down to personal choice? According to Socinian logic, we are firmly able to pre-suppose this, since we are able to dismiss the progression of the text wherever necessary to admit our personal views. Why can’t we simply change verses 27-28 to some past event, so that the Son is only subject to God because He is in a humiliated state, to appease a Trinitarian rhetoric?

Even if, say, men in either camp were to take a proper stance concerning belief in the evangel, or the eons, or some other scriptural truth, how could that stance be trusted, even if its conclusion is valid? If A.E. Knoch argued that “God is the Saviour of all mankind because He is the Saviour of all mankind,” it would not matter if he is dogmatically correct. He would turn people away from this great truth because his argumentation is severely lacking. How could these men make their claims rationally without shaming the scriptural stance by arguing under confused means? How can anyone watch or read their content without grave suspicion that they are not being taught how to think, but being taught what to think? Such a disposition is opposite of the passage we are reading, and does not establish intelligent reverence, but emotional piety.

Even

Believers in Paul’s evangel should have no trouble identifying the word translated “even” in Philippians 2:8. It is the conjunction de, appearing most notably in Romans 3:21, as “yet” in the clause, “yet now.” This is followed by a packed introduction to the evangel of God, concerning our justification through Jesus Christ’s faith, in God’s grace. It is employed to great effect, juxtaposing the hopeless conduct of mankind with the glory of God.

Yet this is not its sole function. It is sometimes translated as “now” instead of “yet,” to account for its other quality. Sometimes, it is “adversative,” in which case it will be translated as “yet.” On other occasions, it is “continuative,” in which case it will be translated as “now” (see its uses in Matt. 1:2-15 as clear examples of this.)

This use of de is evidently continuative (translated “even” to account for English idiom.)

The Ultimate Humiliation

“The death of the cross” is the final stage of Christ’s journey, as presented in Philippians 2:5-8, proven by the progression of the aorist tense throughout Philippians 2. This is the first reference in the entire passage to Golgotha. To force the death of the cross at any point prior to 2:8 is to jumble the entire passage in a bag, splicing the simple progression into a complicated one, full of jargon that further require man’s judgment and opinion to explain. When in the “form of God,” His glory as the Image of the invisible God, and Firstborn of every creature – lovingly called His “pre-eminent glories” by the concordant crew – are apparent, when the facts concerning the Greek are taken into consideration.

Yet these excellent qualities – supreme above all others in every aspect of creation – do not clearly convey the humility of Christ, and thus cannot display His (thus God’s) heart.

His unjust murder is where His disposition most clearly shines. Here is a glory, a moral excellence, which could not be revealed by Him when in the form of God. That glorious theophany of His origin is not a full-orbed revelation. It needed to be complemented by His course when found in fashion as a man.

Christ, seeing from the vantage point of supremacy over all, can accurately survey the playing field. For Him, there is an impassable gap between God and man. God is above even Christ, and cannot be reached from man’s lowly place. Man, irreverent and unjust, could not ascend to heaven and grasp God. God, in His lofty excellence, could not reach our hearts.

Thus we must see Christ in the midst of misery and woe. Christ recognizes that He alone must bridge this gap. God cannot lay His glory down, but Christ, Who was gifted such a position, and did not earn it, was able to do so. Christ empties Himself, not merely of some position, but of all that He was.

Here it is that God wins our affections through the humiliation of His Anointed. Christ is not born to great fanfare in the halls of a palace. Such would be right, but not enough for this One. Instead, He is born in a cow trough. When He is born, His people are not enthralled to meet Him; instead, Herod sought to murder Him, going so far as to attempt infanticide, as Israel’s Egyptian oppressors once did.

As Jesus aged, He grew in wisdom and stature (Luke 2:52.) His ability to discern the facts became more apparent, and was most clearly displayed at His baptism:

Now, being baptized, Jesus straightway stepped up from the water, and lo! opened up to Him were the heavens, and He perceived the spirit of God descending as if a dove, and coming on Him. And lo! a voice out of the heavens, saying, “This is My Son, the Beloved, in Whom I delight.”

From here on in, Jesus was evidently aware of His imminent death (when we consider passages from John in part 5, which focuses primarily on Jesus’ ministry, we will consider this a bit more.) He knew that He had life in Himself (as opposed to the mocking view that He had selfish desire in Him that needed to be emptied.) He knew that He was God’s sacrifice – the Hebrew scriptures could attest such a fact (Is. 53:9-10.)

He knew the horror of this death. He would be brutally tortured, mocked, and degraded. His blood would be drained, yet not fast enough to make the death painless. The crucifixion He would face was reserved for the most detestable murderers and thieves (Barrabas is God’s thematic example.) Most importantly, He was willing to face this death, and see it through to the end. This was a voluntary sojourn into a death state which would never have come upon Him otherwise. Though, of course, God is absolutely in control of Christ’s will, Christ was made by God to voluntarily empty Himself. This concluded with His humbling – causing Himself to be low when He did nothing to deserve such a state.

It is this grotesque murder which caused Jesus’ deepest agonies. For the Righteous One to be made a sin offering is so confounding to mankind that our reasonings in the body of Christ have still made it difficult to apprehend this fact (2 Cor. 5:21!) Such a career as Jesus’ ministry did not deserve so detestable a death – Him being without sin altogether – yet His Dad deemed it necessary to design her ultimate repudiation (Heb. 9:26.)

God, too, shows His feelings on this matter. During the three hours at the cross, nature itself revolts in despair with its Arbiter. God throws the ultimate tantrum. A sorrow unparalleled cried forth from the sky, turning its color black as night (Matt. 27:45-46.) The heavens wailed in agony as the most Righteous One in the universe took on the role of Sin, and thus appeared abhorrent to His own Father.

Christ is the only One able to effect this role, having a spirit of holiness and aligning with the lineage of David (Rom. 1:3-4.) We will consider this aspect when we study Colossians 1:15-17 more in depth, acknowledging Christ’s role in the plan and purpose of God, His various glories conveyed in the passage, most important of all being the inclusion of all in the Son (as opposed to a false “substitutionary” sacrifice “offered” to the individual, as Athanasius proposed.)

The Cross

Many in Christ have already noted that the “cross” is not truly a “cross” at all (like the one you saw in The Passion of the Christ, or on any fashionable necklace today.) As we can read above, the word “cross” is, literally, a “stake” or “pole.” It was not an ornament for us to admire, or to hang on our walls with reverence. It represents the shame and humiliation of Christ, and thus of the entire human race. Mankind’s reverence for the cross itself, while acknowledging very little concerning the One Who hung from it, is indeed a sign of the irreverence of mankind, and proof that God should be discarding the earth swiftly.

The word “cross” appears 28 times in the New Testament (its verb form, “impale,” appears 42 times.) Paul most discusses the concept of the “cross” in 1 Corinthians; much of the information concerning the cross should, of course, already be known to the student of the scriptures prior to reading this Philippians passage. This statement in Philippians carries all the weight of the previous info. Thematically, the Corinthians were the most immature, and thus needed much information concerning the humbling of the Lord. In contrast, the Thessalonians (the thematically mature ecclesia presented to us on the other side of these “perfection” letters) are not deficient concerning this primary knowledge. To accord with this, the words “cross” and “crucify” are nowhere to be found.

In the perfection epistles, the true import of the cross is revealed to us. It is not treated as “yet another” unjust murder, but as the unjust murder. On its own – apart from any recognition of Christ as the Son of God – one could imagine its tragedy. Literally speaking, it is not physically the most brutal suffering ever endured. Christ’s bones were not broken, nor did He suffer for much more than a day, unlike some crucifixions (and don’t even get me started on the horrific death sentences enforced by “Ahura Mazda” fans.)

The cross must be viewed in its thematic relation to the rest of the events in the Bible for its depths to be plumbed, and for the true scope of His sacrifice to be revealed. Christ, in truth, is not like other men. He did have all of the strength and ability that the Pharisees denied of Him. If any other man were in Christ’s place, with the same authority, He would surely have been unable to withstand the degrading pressure and insult from the crowd, nor would they have been able to carry the full weight of sin herself as He did.

The physical murder, then, is no hodge-podge of cruelty. Each and every cut is representative of a much greater spiritual sorrow. His physical body was razed, as the seed of David – yet His spirit faced the ultimate oppression as the Son of God. At the cross, the connection between the Son and the Father were severed for the first time in history. Christ became obedient – not merely to death, but to the death of the cross. This death was so grievous that He was alienated from His Father.

“Eloi! Eloi! Lema Sebachthani!” – that is, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”

It is all well and good to acknowledge the desertion of our Lord by all men. The Jewish nation did not care, envying Him instead of acknowledging His authority over them. They created false charges to murder Him. The strongest power on earth at the time – the Roman empire – hosted this murder. The strongest political and religious principalities on the earth worked together with the strongest celestial principality for His death.

Yet we often ignore the most pressing loss Christ faced, and this is tragic, for it serves as the crux (cross) of our story. There is much emotional weight in the scene, simply as it is – but its weight transcends rational thought when we consider Jesus’ cry. He was hurt by men – but overwhelmed by the loss of God. To become a sin offering, He was placed on the other side of the spiritual “curtain,” so to speak. He was lumped in with all creation. This One, Who had always had God, regardless of His form, truly became like everyone else. There was no one He could rely on – none, it seemed, to feel His hurt with Him. For it was, ultimately, God – His Father – Who had willed for Him to go to that cross (Is. 53:9-10.) Forget mankind, or the celestials – the Power of the universe had brought Him to this ruinous place.

He was alone.

The question, naturally, is, why did the God of love do something like this? How could such a loving God perceive such an outcome as the right course of progression?

As we have discussed throughout our Romans study, it is this murder that has, through its horror, blessed all. Without the cross, we cannot be justified (Rom. 3:21-4:25.) Without the cross, God cannot conciliate (John 12:32, Rom. 5:1-8:30, 2 Cor. 5:18-21, Col. 1:20-21.) This unblemished and perfect sacrifice – not one that “had” sin and “emptied” Himself of it, but of One Who was without sin – is now the permanent basis of all of God’s blessing. The Father and the Son were briefly severed so that a true, familial relationship between you (yes, you, dear reader) and God is established. It is the inevitable outcome of sin’s complete loss, and moreover God’s vast love.

This is, of course, a vivid contrast to His place at the Head of the universe. For this One to have been considered God’s equal in His inherent form, to be brought to such a low position, is even still unfathomable, upon reading it. Christ was as close to God as One has ever been, and ever will be. None had ever approached the Deity except through Him. He is the Chief Messenger (1 Thess. 4:16.) He is the Idol of God, the Emblem of God’s assumption (Heb. 1:3-4.) So far as creation was concerned, prior to Jesus’ death, He was God. He portrayed this outward appearance of God for the universe to communicate with.

Yet, during Jesus’ crucifixion, we face the opposite extreme. In the form of a slave, having the outward appearance of death’s jurisdiction, He was conformed to man’s appearance in dirt. His connection from His Dad had been severed. Instead, He had to endure the mockery of those who claimed to have a closer communion with God than He had ever held. In every conceivable way, He could not have been further from His prior place.

Having been emptied, it was through faith alone that He endured. He did what those who mocked Him never could – He believed that the God and Father, Who in every rational way could not be conceived as “righteous” during that scene, was righteous, and did have a purpose for what appeared to be the most senseless murder ever committed. It is this point at the cross where the faith of Christ shines the brightest (Rom. 3:22, 24-25) – something which could never have been grasped apart from the severity of the ordeal.

Christ Himself cried out to His God. “My God,” Christ cries. This is no error; Christ Himself explicitly proclaims that He has a God. This has been waved off by Trinitarians, who generally claim that “Jesus, while being God, had divested Himself of Godhood while on earth in order to assume the role of a ‘subject.’” This is usually claimed to correlate Christ ‘pre-existent’ and ‘post-ascension’ as “the God.” It simply fails, due to Phil. 2:6, where the simple definition of the word “form” denounces the theory. It is further compounded by Paul’s claim in Col. 1:15, which we will consider later.

God the Father is the Supreme. He has no god. He does not subject Himself to Christ. At no time is the Son treated as superior to the Father. Again, equality necessarily indicates two – not one. If God were dependent on the Son (or creation,) then He would not be absolute. He cannot suffer humiliation from the departure of others. He may be lied about by those others, and He may hurt for their absence, but He Himself is not “made low” by the loss of others. He does not “die,” as if He were subject to higher powers. If He had died, the Spirit which powered creation would no longer function. Nor could He “commit His spirit” to some other higher power. He would be a completely unsuitable sacrifice.

Mankind is the opposite of all of this. Mankind does have a God, yet we are subordinate. Only a Mediator could bridge this gap (1 Tim. 2:5.) He must be found in fashion as a man. He must have a divine spirit (Rom. 1:4.) The fusion of both of these aspects in One is what makes Christ an admissible sacrifice for the sake of all. Christ, shown to be dependent on the Father, shown to lack an “absolute” quality, suffers the greatest experience of evil – and thus the greatest humiliation (Ecc. 1:13, 3:10.) He loses all – even the One Who gave Him such an experience, and Who had always shown Himself present.

*   *   *

I must briefly pause, here, and note that this is certainly not the end of the “cross” discussion. Fans of the Bible may recall that the cross is again mentioned in Colossians 1:20. The thought of the cross, in this Philippians passage, carries the weight of the prior teaching, but the direct stress is not on our blessing. It is indeed on Christ and His disposition during the ultimate suffering. This phrase, “the death of the cross,” is the darkest portion of the passage, necessarily so. The complementary sentences in 2:9-11, concerning the glories post Resurrection hinge upon the consequences of the cross – first, in relation to Jesus (2:9,) second, its effects upon you (2:10-11a,) and finally, the purpose of this humbling (2:11b.)

In a brief addendum, then, we will reflect upon Phil. 2:9-11. We have not exhausted the subject (nor could we rationally hope to,) but it is better to save the practical effects of the cross for all for Colossians, since it concerns the destination of this disposition for all created creatures. Thus “Part III” will detail many nuances to this discussion – especially in chapters 13 and 18.

In the meantime, let us pause and reflect with one of my favorite passages. This is not “related” to our subject, but there is always room for meditation and reflection on the indescribable gratuities of God. Here is Psalm 150–

Praise Yah.

Praise El in His sanctuary;

Praise Him in His powerful atmosphere.

Praise Him in accord with His masterful deeds; Praise Him according to His vast greatness.

Praise Him with the blowing of a trumpet; Praise Him with zither and harp. Praise Him with tambourine and chorus; Praise Him with lute and shepherd’s pipe. Praise Him with resounding cymbals; Praise Him with shouting cymbals.

May all that has breath praise Yah.

Praise Yah.

- GerudoKing