Jesus, too, is a model of humility: not only did he give up the prerogatives of deity, but he also made himself a servant. Even if he had lived on earth as a king, Jesus would have lowered himself more than we can imagine. Yet he went much further than merely becoming a man. Paul recounts the steps of his humiliation in Philippians 2:6–8: first man, then servant, then obedience, then death. And as if that was not enough, the death he died was death on a cross. So shameful was such a death that the Roman orator Cicero declared:
To bind a Roman citizen is a crime, to flog him is an abomination, to kill him is almost an act of murder: to crucify him is — What? There is no fitting word that can possibly describe so horrible a deed.
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And again:
The very word 'cross' should be far removed not only from the person of a Roman citizen, but from his thoughts, his eyes and his ears. For it is not only the actual occurrence of these things . . . or the endurance of them, but liability to them, the expectation, indeed the mere mention of them, that is unworthy of a Roman citizen and a free man.
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That the Son of God was willing to humble himself in this way must have implications for our own lives and attitudes. Can we call ourselves his disciples—his followers, people who learn from him—and still cling onto our status, our privileges, our dignity, and our imagined superiority over people whom we consider to be beneath us? There are many spheres of life in which this principle can be applied.
6 Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ.