No Half Measures - Philippians 2:5-11

Introduction

A few years ago in Queens, someone spotted a pressure cooker sitting unattended in public. Just sitting there. No owner in sight. They called 911.

Within minutes, streets were shut down. Police blocked traffic. And then the bomb squad rolled in — full protective gear, robots, controlled-detonation protocols. Not a patrol officer with a flashlight. The bomb squad. All because of… cookware.

When they finally examined it, there was no threat. No explosives. No wires. Just a discarded pressure cooker. From the outside, it feels almost ridiculous. An entire tactical response for something you can buy at Target. It seems like overkill.

Until you remember that a pressure cooker had just been used to kill and maim people at the Boston Marathon. Here’s the thing: the response only feels like overkill if you assume the threat is small. When something has been used before to cause massive destruction, you don’t take half measures. You don’t send one officer to poke it with a stick. You bring everything you’ve got.

God’s Word

Paul looks at division in the church the same way. We treat it like cookware. He treats it like something that has destroyed worlds. In verse 5 he says, “Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.” And the “this” is counting others more significant than yourselves. He’s addressing something so common we barely notice it — selfishness. Pride. The quiet instinct to put ourselves first. This is what was what was threatening to divide this church.

We’re tempted to shrug and say, “Well, we’re all a little selfish.” Paul doesn’t shrug. He detonates a theological warhead. He brings out the biggest guns he has. Because what looks like a small church squabble carries the same DNA as cosmic rebellion.

And notice how he does it. He quotes a hymn they already sing. He quotes this hymn so they can reflect upon how different their selfishness is from the King they’re following. This hymn has two major movements, and we’re going to us that to ask Two Questions to Obliterate Selfishness (headline):

“Who” are you living for?

Royalty fascinates us because of what comes with it — estates, jewels, ceremony, inherited authority. King Charles doesn’t have to earn privilege. He was born into it. Just by the sheer fact that he is who he is, his life is one of incredible privilege.

Now, imagine he addresses the nation and announces that he is permanently abdicating. Not because of scandal. Not because of pressure. But because he has chosen to for the common good. He liquidates the royal estates, auctions the crown jewels, dissolves the Duchy holdings, and funnels the billions into a global nonprofit devoted to eradicating extreme poverty.

He then explains that he’s taking a personal vow of poverty. No palace. No motorcade. No titles. He’s going to sleep on the dirt in a place where no one knows his name, living on minimum wage and serving others. It’s a story so incomprehensible that the main question everyone would have is: What’s he hiding? What’s the real story? Because no king would do that willfully and without coercion.

And that’s why what Paul says about Jesus in Philippians 2 is so shocking. That’s why the gospel is explodes our selfishness, conceit, and pride.

Our king “enjoyed” every “due.”

Philippians 2:6 “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped”

There are two phrases in 2:6 that are significant. The first is “he was.” That verb matters. Paul doesn’t say Jesus became something. He says he was. Before Bethlehem. Before the virgin birth. Before there was a world to enter, Christ already existed. He did not begin in a manger. He did not come into being at Christmas. He was. He predates time. He stands before creation. He is not part of the universe — the universe is part of his handiwork. He “was” because he is the great I AM.

The word morphē refers to the true nature expressed outwardly. It means the essential attributes belonging to someone as they are fully displayed. So when Paul says Christ was in the “form of God,” he is saying that the Son eternally possessed and displayed everything that makes God, God. He did not resemble deity. He did not approximate divinity. He shared fully in it.

All things were made by him, through him, and for him. He is the sovereign King of the universe. He upholds all things by the word of his power. Every atom answers to him. Every throne derives authority from him. Every angel has, from the moment of its creation, declared his glory: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.”

That is, as the King of glory, from all eternity past, He was enjoying every due owed to his name, BUT THEN…

Our king “emptied” his “dignity.”

Philippians 2:6–7 “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.”

You’ll notice that the word morphē — “form” — appears again in verse 7. He was eternally in the form of God, and yet he took the form of a servant. The word “servant” is stronger than we often realize. It means slave. Bondservant. One who exists to obey. Do you feel the contrast Paul wants you to feel? “Form of God.” “Form of a slave.” “Very God of very God,” as Nicea puts it, becomes — at the same time — “very slave of very slave.”

Now we must be careful here. Jesus did not empty himself of deity. He did not cease to be what he was. The Son did not subtract Godhood. He added humanity. As one commentator wisely puts it, the question is not, “What did he empty himself of?” but “What did he empty himself into?”

He emptied himself by taking the form of a servant. He ‘emptied’ the fullness of God into the brokenness of humanity. He ‘emptied’ the invincibility of God into the fragile flesh of man. He ‘emptied’ the eternal into the temporal. He ‘emptied’ the adoration of the angels for the rejection of men. He ‘emptied’ his command of angel armies to wash the feet of his own betrayer. ‘He made himself nothing!’ Jesus did not empty himself of his deity, but of his dignity.

And verse 6 tells us why: he “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped.” That word “grasped” carries the idea of clinging to one’s rights, exploiting one’s status. Adam reached for equality with God — something that was not his. Christ, the Second Adam, refused to cling to what was rightfully his.

The first Adam grasped and brought ruin. The Second Adam released and brought redemption.

When we grasp for status and live for ourselves, we fracture our families and divide our churches. When we follow the Second Adam — when we loosen our grip on what we want or what we believe we’re owed — we become instruments of reconciliation and life, we bring our families and churches together. So the question is simple and searching: Who are you living for? Are you living for yourself, or are you living for your King?

You see, He didn’t just empty his dignity…

Our king “embraced” his “dishonor.”

Philippians 2:7–8 “but made himself nothing, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Isaiah 53:7 “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.”

The Christ hymn reminds us that there are two primary reasons that Jesus became a man. The first was the He came to succeed where the first Adam failed. The first Adam failed and brought death, but He came to succeed and bring life. The second reason He came was to do what God couldn’t otherwise do: DIE.

Look again at verses 7-8. What you see is that Jesus, like Paul, didn’t believe in half measures. There were no half measures. He didn’t just lower his status. He didn’t just endure discomfort. He went all the way to death — and not a dignified death, but the most shameful death the ancient world could devise. Think of that. The greatest king from the highest throne climbed down the ladder to the very lowest death.

Willingly. Voluntarily. “he made himself nothing… he humbled himself… he became obedient.” This was not forced upon him. This was willing obedience. And when you hear that, you should hear Isaiah 53 echoing in the background. Isaiah 53 teaches us about the Suffering Servant who would come to be pierced and broken because of our sins and transgressions. And, in Isaiah 53, we encounter the first consenting sacrifice we find in the Old Testament. Old Testament sacrifices had to be restrained. They resisted the knife. But this Lamb consented. Isaiah 53:7 “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.” This is not a victim overwhelmed by events. This is a King who chose the cross.

(slide) And, this Servant is here asking us: Who will you live for? Jesus is calling us to walk in the opposite direction of virtually every voice we’ve ever heard. Madison Avenue tells you, “Indulge yourself.” Jesus says, “Deny yourself.” The sexual revolution says, “Free yourself.” Jesus says, “Take up your cross.” American self-helpism says, “Focus on yourself.” Jesus says, “Forget yourself.” Our culture says, “Protect your peace.” Jesus says, “Lay down your life.” Our world says, “Live your truth.” Jesus says, “Lose your life.” Who will you listen to, and who will you live for — your king or yourself? One divides, one holds together.

“When” are you living for?

Isaiah 52:13 “Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.”

Paul’s concern in Philippians 2 is that we live as citizens of the Kingdom. That’s the larger context. But here’s the tension: the Kingdom has begun, yet it hasn’t fully arrived. We belong to heaven, but we’re still living in a broken world.

So Paul gives us the Christ hymn to reset our expectations. Our path to the Kingdom follows Jesus’ path to the throne. Before he was exalted, he was humiliated. Before he ascended, he descended. First suffering — then glory. But don’t miss this: there is glory.

It’s easy to hear “count others more significant than yourselves” and assume the Christian life is nothing but sacrifice. As if loss is the whole story. It’s not. The Christian life is not ultimate loss — it’s delayed gain. It’s trading instant gratification for eternal glorification. Jim Elliot said it well: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

It’s not sacrifice to give up peanuts when you’re promised a kingdom. And Isaiah shows us this pattern. Before the Servant suffers in Isaiah 53, God declares in Isaiah 52:13, “Behold, my servant shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.” Yes, there is a cross. But there is also a crown.

So, the second movement of this hymn takes us to Jesus’ coronation when His kingdom is consummated, and we see that…

He has his “Name.”

Philippians 2:9–11 “Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Isaiah 45:23 “By myself I have sworn; from my mouth has gone out in righteousness a word that shall not return: ‘To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.’”

The Christ hymn concludes by applying the prophecy of Isaiah 45 to Jesus. In Isaiah 45, God is speaking as the unrivaled King of the universe. The nations are brought low. Idols are exposed as frauds. And over and over again, the Lord declares, “I am God, and there is no other.” And then, in verse 23, he makes a staggering promise: Isaiah 45:23 “By myself I have sworn; from my mouth has gone out in righteousness a word that shall not return: ‘To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.’”

That is not the voice of a local tribal deity. That is the sovereign Creator laying claim to universal worship. Every nation. Every ruler. Every human being. One day, all will bow — to Yahweh alone.

Now come to Philippians 2. After describing Christ’s humiliation — his self-emptying, his obedience to death on a cross — Paul says: Philippians 2:9–11 “Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

The King who once forfeited his rights will soon enough claim his throne and the worship of all peoples. Paul is taking Isaiah 45 — a passage about Yahweh’s exclusive glory — and applying it directly to Jesus. In fact, that’s the significance of “the Name.” In the NT era, Jews so revered the Name of God, YHWH, that they refused to utter it. It was pronounced only by the High Priest on the Day of Atonement and by local priests who pronounced the priestly blessing. So, they used alternative names. And, one of the most common was just simply: “The Name.” With the definite article.

So, the hymn that the early church was singing was: “The God who broke Pharaoh and the God who turned Nebuchadnezzar into a lap dog and the God who established David’s throne — the God who humbles all kings and establishes all kingdoms — has come himself to be OUR King.

So, in Jesus…

We have our “King.”

In Isaiah 45, everything that seems powerful and precious on earth is dragged into the presence of God. Nations. Wealth. Strength. Reputation. The very things we cling to, compete over, divide over — they’re all brought before the throne. And in that light, they shrink.

That’s the point Isaiah makes — and Paul applies in Philippians 2:9–11. When Jesus is revealed in his exalted glory, the illusion breaks. In his presence, idols collapse. Riches evaporate. Power withers. Human honor is forgotten. Everything we spent our lives protecting suddenly feels weightless as every knee hits the ground.

And in that moment you will realize: everything you ever truly wanted — security, significance, joy, permanence — was found in him all along.

And, in that moment, the question that will matter is: When were you living for? You see, every knee — in heaven, on earth, and under the earth — every knee no matter how powerful or how forgotten — every knee to matter how successful or how helpless will bow. If you have lived for the precious things of this world in the here an now, that day will be a terrifying unveiling — the moment you see that your priorities, your pursuits, your self-protection were dust. But if you have lived for the Kingdom to come, if you’ve been living for that day all along, it will be the most glorious moment imaginable. You will bow not in regret, but in recognition. And you will look back at every act of self-denial, every cross you carried, and say, “Now I see. None of it was a loss.”

Here is a concise, emotionally strong landing that zooms back out to Paul’s broader point and ties everything together: Now step back and remember why Paul gave us this hymn in the first place. He’s not writing abstract theology. He’s healing a church.

Can you imagine how beautiful a church would be if every member stopped living for themselves and started living for their King? A church where no one is grasping for status. No one is protecting their ego. No one is jockeying for position. Instead, each person is asking, “How can I serve? How can I honor Christ? How can I count you more significant than myself?” That church would be unified. Gentle. Resilient. Radiant.

Now imagine a church that isn’t chasing instant gratification — not scrambling for earthly trinkets, applause, comfort, or control — but living for future glory. A church that really believes there is a crown after the cross. That glory is coming. That the King is returning. That every act of self-denial now will shine forever then. That church would be fearless. Steady. Joyful. Unoffendable. Unbreakable.

And if that is who our King is —if he did not take half measures —if he did not cling to his rights —if he did not stop short of the cross —Church, how can we?