Introduction
We’re taking a short break from our Marathon Matthew series for the rest of this month so that we can focus on the Christmas story.
When I was a boy, I confess that on several occasions I secretly peeled back the Sellotape to peek at some of the presents with my name on under the tree.
It seems that in one respect I’ve never grown up because when I looked at the index of our Advent devotional book Good News of Great Joy, I noticed that the last chapter was entitled “My favourite Christmas text.” Well, I couldn’t resist thumbing ahead to take a quick peep, and I was pleased to see that it is the very passage I was thinking I should preach on today. I’ll read that in a moment, but first…
In October 1971, on the 2,500th anniversary of the foundation of the Persian Empire by Cyrus the Great, the Shah of Iran held a celebration to mark the occasion. In fact, “celebration” is something of an understatement. The Guinness Book of World Records describes the event as the most expensive party in history.
Cyrus’ desert tomb was transformed into a sumptuous garden oasis by importing and planting 15,000 trees, 15,000 flowering plants and 50,000 songbirds. Snakes, scorpions, and other undesirable creatures were painstakingly removed.
They built an 18-hole golf course, there was a dazzling sound and light show, an impressive military parade all done in hand-stitched period costume, and music performed by world class musicians.
250 brand new Mercedes Benz limousines ferried the VIPs; royalty, and heads of state and government, to and from the site. 65,000 armed troops oversaw the massive security operation.
The Shah ordered the construction of a high-class five-star resort called the golden city with luxury apartments and a vast banqueting hall, all with air conditioning and every convenience.
10,000 porcelain plates were commissioned for the banquet decorated in turquoise and gold with the shah’s coat of arms. The catering was masterminded by the revered, Michelin starred restaurant Maxim’s which closed its doors in Paris for two weeks so that all the chefs and waiters could be there. They bought in exotic delicacies and fine wines from all around the world.
If you’re starting to stress about organising your Christmas dinner, just think how Monsieur Blouet felt, coordinating all that!
The cost of this three-day extravaganza ran to about $170 million in today’s money. At the same time, half the population in Iranwent to bed hungry every night.
And the Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, did all this to honour himself. The whole show was essentially all about him and his ego. He bestowed upon himself the title Šâhân Šâh, meaning king of kings. Other titles he was pleased to accept include “Sovereign of the Order of Splendour,” “Light of the Aryans,” “Knight of the Order of the Lion and the Sun” and, my favourite, the admirably self-deprecating “Pivot of the Universe.”
That party was the last word in opulence and indulgence. Arranged to celebrate two and a half millennia of the Persian kingdom, ironically it precipitated its collapse.
Because the shah’s show of excessive wealth, while his people starved, only fuelled widespread resentment. Within a few short years, there was a popular uprising, and then a coup. The shah became gravely ill, he was exiled in disgrace, and he died shortly afterwards.
I wanted to describe that event to you to contrast it with the passage of scripture I want to set the tone for our preparations for Christmas.
It’s in Philippians 2, and I think it contains the most powerful sentence in the Bible on the Christmas miracle. Here is what it says.
[Jesus], "being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, or used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness, and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death - even death on a cross!"
Amazing journey
Some say the moon landings in the 1960s and 70s are the greatest achievement in human exploration thus far. Anyone who knows me will not be surprised to hear that I agree with that assessment. I find NASA’s Apollo programme endlessly inspiring and impressive.
But James Irwin, who was lunar module pilot on Apollo 15, the eighth astronaut to walk and the first to drive on the surface of the moon, when he returned from his mission said this; “Jesus walking on the earth is far more important than man walking on the moon.”
What a thing to say! In what I just read from Philippians 2, you have in just sixty-one words, the most stunning account of the single most significant journey of all time.
This year at King’s we have delighted in welcoming and dedicating four beautiful babies. The arrival of a newborn is an emotional and awe-inspiring event. Whose heart does not melt at the sight of the precious bundle of cuteness that is a little human who has just lately come into the world?
Looking at a fully formed newborn baby, all wrapped up and sleeping soundly, it is hard to get your head round the fact that he or she has grown from an embryo smaller than a grain of sand.
From as early as week three of a pregnancy, over eight months before birth, a baby’s heart starts to beat and pump blood, and the digestive system and the eyes begin to develop. Just a week later, at four weeks’ gestation, limbs appear, and by week 12, measuring by now about five centimetres, all the organs are there, are in position and are functioning correctly. All this of course was true of embryo Jesus as well when the word became flesh.
In very nature God…
Philippians 2 though, says that Jesus, before he developed in the womb, before he was barely visible to the naked eye, started out as almighty and invincible and omnipotent God.
Before stars and galaxies and black holes (or any physical matter), before gravity and mass and density and energy, before laws of thermodynamics and relativity, before time itself, he existed already, eternally, and gloriously.
Co-equal in every way with the Father and the Holy Spirit, filling heaven with the splendour of his glory, he was already unsurpassable, the superlative of everything worthy of praise.
When we speak of the Trinity as one God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we can sometimes make the mistake of picturing Jesus as in some sense a step down from God the Father almighty.
But Philippians 2 doesn’t let us do that. He was, it says, in very nature, in very essence, God. No less than the Father, no more than the Spirit. As the Nicene Creed says of the Son; “Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, being of one substance, one essence, with the Father; through him all things were made.”
Meaning Jesus was eternally there before creation, reigning in unity with the Father and the Holy Spirit. He has never not been.
Colossians 1 says of God the Son, “all things were created through him and for him, he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
In very nature a servant
But it says in v6 here that, despite his glory and pre-eminence, he completely let go of status. It says, ‘though he was in very nature God, he did not consider equality with God as something to be - the next word in the original Greek is ambiguous and can mean either ‘grasped’, or ‘used to his own advantage.’ Perhaps Paul had both meanings in mind.
Have you ever watched people in the Black Friday promotions or the January sales? Queuing all night, then bursting through the doors as soon as they open, running through the store, grabbing what they can, fist fights if necessary, every man for himself...
But that is the total opposite of Jesus’ attitude and model of life with respect to his divine privileges when he came at Christmas. He didn’t grab and grasp his divine nature when he became one of us. Instead, he became downwardly mobile, it was a riches to rags story. It was the ultimate demotion.
To start out where Jesus started, to then become a barely visible spot, tinier than a pin head, in a peasant girl’s womb, has to be the most dramatic and staggering downgrade ever.
We don’t like downgrades. Imagine you book a seat on a plane with extra leg room, and you pay a little bit more for it, but then you learn the airline has overbooked and you have to go in cattle class, three rows further back. How blessed do you feel about that?
Actually, I read once about a man to whom this really happened, and he went ballistic, shouting that he would call his lawyer to sue the airline as soon as the plane landed.
But imagine that’s you, and you are annoyed, but you don’t make a fuss because what can you do? And imagine that when you land, you go to hire a car and are told at the desk that the model you selected online is now unavailable. “I’m sorry, but we only have available cars from the category below?” Are you feeling any better?
Then, after your demotion on the plane and your downgrade at the car rental desk, you arrive at your hotel, looking forward to your room with a view of the sea. But the receptionist informs you that the previous guest trashed the room, so you are apologetically offered an alternative - with a view of the city dump.
Could it be any worse? We hate downgrades. We despise demotions.
But Jesus, though being in very nature God, not only did he willingly lower himself, more than that, he made himself nothing, taking the very nature (same words) of a servant.
Mainstream Christianity has always held that Jesus is fully God and fully man. In very nature both.
But, as a man, he voluntarily set aside his heavenly majesty. He chose gladly not to draw on his omniscient knowledge or make use of his omnipotent strength. He did not deploy at any point during his life on earth his divine power although at any point he could have done so.
And that, incidentally, means that his miracles were not done as the all-powerful Son of God, but as the all-humble Son of Man, filled with the Holy Spirit. Which is why he said we can do the same in his name, and indeed greater things still.
He emptied himself of all his glory and he embraced all his life the role of a simple domestic servant.
He was born far from home, with none of the usual comforts. His family was poor with minimal prospects. His mother’s delivery room was makeshift and shared with livestock. His cot was a feeding trough, and his first clothes were second hand bandages. He had to flee as a refugee when he was a small child. He had no worldly wealth and little status.
He suffered hatred by his people’s leaders, scepticism within his own family, rejection in his own hometown, derision from common criminals, he was spat on and beaten and flogged and made fun of. The full force of imperial Rome’s ruthless killing machine was visited on him.
Derek Tidball in The Message of the Cross says it so well: “Jesus was denied liberty, hounded relentlessly, stripped shamefully, flogged mercilessly, mocked ruthlessly, degraded utterly, until nailed excruciatingly and lifted high on cross.”
He was obedient to death, says v8, an atoning death for you and me, so we can have peace with God, freedom from guilt, removal of shame, so we can be saved forever from the eternity of weeping and gnashing of teeth our sins deserve. From the highest of heights to the lowest of depths.
And that's shocking to hear because all our lives, people are telling us to do the opposite. Climb higher. Earn more. Promote yourself. Flaunt your talent. Achieve. Make your mark. Be influential.
But the point of this passage of scripture is not just to appreciate what Jesus did, but to insist that what he did must be a template for our own way of life. Let’s read it in context:
"In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped or used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant…"
Making yourself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, we call that “humility.” Making yourself something, taking the very nature of a master, we call that “pride”.
The influential New York church leader Tim Keller, who died last year, once said, “Pride is like the carbon monoxide of sin. It silently and slowly kills you without you even knowing.”
And, I would add, just like carbon monoxide, which is invisible and has no odour, pride is very hard to detect.
As a pastor, people regularly come to me and ask for help with marriage difficulties, or with addiction issues, or about doubts, or about practical problems like unemployment or financial struggles. No one has ever come to see me saying, “Can you help me? I'm really struggling with pride.” Because hardly anyone thinks they're proud.
I’ve been in environments where it is quite obvious to me that I haven’t got an issue with pride because everyone around me is much prouder than I am. So much so that, actually, I feel very pleased with myself that I am easily the humblest person in the room!
Pride is being full of yourself. Instead of being full of the Holy Spirit. As I said, pride is hard to detect in ourselves. But it’s easy to spot in other people though; think of someone you know, someone loud, who never stops talking about him- or herself, who never listens, who always knows best, who’s always going on about how brilliant they are.
And there’s snobbish pride as well; think of someone you know with an effortlessly superior persona, who always seems to look down on you. This kind of pride is common in religious people.
This week, I read about an event for Christians at a prestigious London venue. And one of the leaders who was there said, “I felt quite annoyed when a young girl turned up - late - in outrageous clothes and sat at my table, texting throughout the entire mealtime. “But then they showed a film,” he said, “and I suddenly recognised her on the video as one of the recently converted prostitutes from the Christian ministry we had gathered to celebrate.”
He said, “I felt deeply ashamed because I got a glimpse of the proud, holier-than-thou Pharisee that lurks inside me, and which can lurk inside you too. And he finished with a question. “How dare we write anyone off for salvation, when Jesus has shown us that he loves to write them in?”
The place where our culture is darkest is the very place where grace shines the brightest.
The glory
And that’s where Philippians 2 leads us next. Having spoken of Christ’s eternal glory and his mind-blowing lowering of himself, it says this:
"Therefore, God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."
I began by talking about that lavish party, the epitome of ego and excess and self-exaltation. But human glory always fades and dies.
The Ottoman empire lasted 700 years. The Roman empire stood for 500 years. The British empire, on which the sun never set, lasted about 350 years. The first Ming dynasty in China endured 280 years.
The Soviet Union with its satellite states in eastern Europe survived barely 70 years before it collapsed in failure. Hitler promised a thousand-year Reich only to see it crumble in ignominy after just 12 years.
All these empires and dominions seemed fearsome and invincible in their day. People marvelled at their military might or their cultural impact or their territorial dominance. But these superpowers all came and went. Every last one of them is history.
Human empires come and go. But Christ is still exalted to the very highest place, still adored by millions. His name utterly outshines every other. One day, says v10, every knee will bow in submission before him on the Day of Judgement.
Ending
Christ’s kingdom, when he returns in glory to judge the living and the dead, will endure eternally. He will reign forever. His dominion is from everlasting to everlasting. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.
On the day of his glorious return, according to Revelation 11, an angel will sound his trumpet, and loud voices in heaven will say: “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.”
And twenty-four elders, will fall on their faces and worship God, saying: “We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, the One who is and who was, because you have taken your great power and have begun to reign.”
It’s why at Christmas we sing:
Christ by highest heaven adored
Christ the everlasting Lord…
Mild, he lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die.
And, Come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord!
Sermon preached at King's Church Darlington, 8 December 2024.