Servin' on Empty

“but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:7)

Jackson Browne sings about “Runnin’ on Empty.” The lyrics his hit tune describe how his gas gauge is on “E.” In the song, he’s lived his entire life with his foot on the floor and he now realizes it’s been a total waste of time. In Philippians chapter 2, Paul drops the lyrics of what many believe to be a first century hit song. It’s also about running on fumes. But this tank belongs to Jesus. This track tells of how our Savior emptied Himself to serve us. It tells of how our Lord emptied Himself by serving us. Jesus is the ultimate example of servin’ on empty.

The year is AD 61. Paul is serving time in Caesar’s SuperMax in Rome. Four years ago, his enemies falsely accused him of stirring up trouble in Jerusalem (Acts 21:27-36). After sitting behind bars in Judea, the apostle appealed his case to Caesar (Acts 25:11-12). His voyage to Rome makes recent cruise line disasters look like a wimpy (Acts 27:1-28:14). While he waits for his hearing, Paul writes a series of letters to various churches, places like Colossae, Ephesus, and Philippi. The letter to his Philippian friends in the only note he wrote where the apostle is not trying to put out a fire. This epistle drips with joy. He mentions some form of his joy 16 different times in the note. Think about that for moment. He’s doing hard time because of telling others about Jesus. Yet, he’s got joy in the joint!

Here in chapter 2, Paul is so stoked about what the God is doing through the Gospel that he busts out in song. A lot of really smart folks believe Philippians 2:6-11 is a first century worship tune. It’s structure has all characteristics of lyrics or poetry. Could this have been on of the ditties Paul and Silas belted out the night they were locked up in Philippi (Acts 16:25)? Makes you wonder. The first line of describes how Jesus is 100% God (Phil 2:6). He had all the rights and privileges of divinity. But this is where things get interesting. I don’t know about you, but I would have put a hammer lock on any document calling me a deity. As they say on the golf course, grip it and rip it, baby! Hmm, Jay Almighty has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Thankfully, God the Father was smart enough to avoid that particular theological pothole. Instead, Christ is God. But His divinity was something the God the Son held loosely. 

You see, Jesus dropped His Godness because He was God on a mission from God. Jake and Elwood Blues have nothing on our Savior. As part of releasing His divinity, Christ “emptied Himself” (v7). Paul uses the Greek verb keno’o. It means to divest, give up, lay aside, drain, make void, or remove the contents. It paints a picture of taking away the power of significance of something or in this case Someone. The Second Person of the Trinity voluntarily strips away His prerogatives, His status, and His position.

Preachers, scholars, bishops, monks, and ministers have been scratching their noggins for centuries over just what Jesus emptied. The best answer seems to be His constant access to His divine attributes. To go on the ultimate rescue mission, Christ divested Himself of regular and ready use of things such as His all-powerful nature, His ability to be everywhere at once, and His glory. The Son of God only had access to such attributes when His Dad felt it was appropriate. In other words, God voluntarily accepted the limitations of humanity. So Jesus emptied Himself. Can I be frank? That’s just the opposite of what I do most of the time. Most of the time, I’m completely full of myself. He emptied Himself of His real and deserved glory. I fill myself with false glory. My Savior can only fill and use me when I empty the tank of my ego and pride. 

Jesus emptied Himself because He had a very specific mission on His supernatural agenda. He laid all of that aside “by taking the form of a servant” (v7). Paul first says that the Son of God “was in the form (Gr. morphe) of God” (Phil 2:6). To make His divine dumpster dive into our sin, took “the form (Gr. morphe) of a servant” (v7). We see this idea of God as our Servant as part of the Big Story of the Bible. God uses the prophet Isaiah to predict the coming of a Suffering Servant who’s on the way. “Behold, My Servant, whom I uphold, My chosen, in whom My soul delights” (Is 42:1). Isaiah 52 and 53 paint one of the most beautiful and accurate portraits of Jesus you’ll ever see. “Out of the anguish His soul He shall see and be satisfied; by His knowledge shall the righteous One, My Servant, make many to accounted righteous, and He shall bear their iniquities” (Is 53:11). And that was more than 600 years before Joe and Mary turned a feed trough into a bassinet! Jesus emptied Himself to serve us.

All throughout the life of Christ, He demonstrates that the King of Kings has come as the Servant of Servants. Jesus told His crew, “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many” (Mt 20:28). In one of the most amazing scenes you’ll ever see in Scripture, our Savior washes the filthy feet of His disciples the night before His murder (Jn 13:3-20). Don’t miss the fact that Jesus actually scrubs the feet of the infamous Judas Iscariot knowing the dude will sell him out in just a few hours. God doesn’t serve those who deserve it. He serves the criminals, rebels, and enemies. In the words of Tullian Tchividjian, God serves and saves bad people because bad people are all He has to work with. In case you’re wondering, that includes you and me.  

The fact of Jesus’ service to us has a couple of important implications. First of all, it does NOT mean He’s some sort of genie in a bottle that we call on to fulfill our wishes. He’s NOT a supernatural vending machine who responds whenever we insert the proper payment. He’s NOT a heavenly butler who answers to our beck and call. He’s God. We’re not. Don’t let His sacrificial service out of His love for you and me confuse us. Got it? Good. Second, the Servant of Servants motivates us to do for others because of all He’s done for us. We’re served to be servants to those around us. We’re blessed to be a blessing. We don’t serve do He will save us, we serve because He has saved us. It’s an act of gratitude and thanks to Jesus. Now get off your blessed assurance and start serving others!  

Jesus empties Himself as part of “being born in the likeness of men” (v7). Christ served us by becoming one of us. Don’t make the mistake of seeing our Savior like Superman pretending to be human. The Rabbi/Carpenter isn’t a first century Clark Kent with powers and abilities far above those of mortal men. According to Robertson, His humanity is as real as His diety. He’s 100% God and 100% Man. How does that work? I don’t have a clue. Jesus’ best bud John writes, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn 1:14). Christ is so human that He bleeds when Roman executioners drive nails through His hands. He’s so human that He dies when they pierce His heart with a spear. He empties Himself of life as an act of love for you and me.

The Son of God is “born in the likeness of men” (v7) to do for us what we could never do for ourselves. There’s absolutely no way we could ever fulfill God’s law and meet the requirement of perfect obedience in order to be saved. Jesus does what we can’t. “By sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, He condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us” (Rom 8:3-4). Martin Luther liked to call it the Great Exchange. Paul writes about it 2Corinthians 5:21. Jesus gives us His complete perfection and obedience. He takes our total rebellion and disobedience. That’s what happens when we place our trust in Him. We trust in that He lived the perfect life that we completely failed to live. He died the death for our rebellion that we should have died. He rose to a glorious new life that we don’t deserve. By being “born in the likeness of men” (v7), Jesus totally pours out everything He has to do for us what we could never dream of doing for ourselves. 

Now I love me some Jackson Browne. I crank it up when “Runnin’ on Empty” comes on. But that’s nothing compared to how Christ drained His tank on our behalf. Our Savior emptied Himself to serve us. Our Lord emptied Himself by serving us. Jesus is the ultimate example of servin’ on empty.