It is perfectly delightful to contemplate the moral triumphs of Christianity_the victories which it
gains over self and the world, and the marvelous way in which such victories are obtained. … A
beautiful illustration of this is afforded in Philippians 2 in which we have a series of examples of
self-surrender, commencing with a divinely perfect One, the Lord Himself.

But before we proceed to gaze upon this exquisite picture, it may be well to inquire what it was
that rendered it needful to present such a picture before the Philippian saints. … It was not a
splitting into sects and parties, as at Corinth. It was not a return to the law and ritualism, as at
Galatia. It was not a hankering after philosophy and the rudiments of the world, as at Colosse.
What was it then? It was a root of envy and strife. The sprouting of this root is seen very distinctly
in the collision between those two sisters, "Euodias and Syntyche" (chapter 4:2), but it is glanced
at in earlier portions of the epistle, and a divine remedy supplied. . . .

Paul loved the saints at Philippi, and rejoiced in their love to him, and tasted the fragrant fruit of
that love again and again. But then he saw that it was one thing to love and be kind to a distant
apostle, and quite another thing to agree among themselves. Doubtless, Euodias and Syntyche both
contributed to send a present to Paul, though they were not pulling harmoniously together in the
wear and tear of daily life and service. This is, alas! no uncommon case. Many sisters and
brothers too are ready to contribute of their substance to help some distant servant of Christ, and
yet they do not walk pleasantly together. How is this? There is a lack of self-surrender. This, we
may rest assured, is the real secret of much of the "strife and vainglory" so painfully manifest in
the very midst of the people of God. It is one thing to walk alone, and it is another thing to walk
in company with our brethren in the practical recognition of that great truth of the unity of the
body, and in the remembrance that "we are members one of another." … Now, it is when we are
called to walk in the actual acknowledgment of this great truth that there is a demand for self-
surrender…. If Euodias and Syntyche could have walked alone, there would have been no
collision, no strife. But they were called to walk together, and here was the demand for self-
surrender.

And be it ever remembered that Christians are not members of a club, of a sect, or of an
association; they are members of a body, each connected with all, and all connected, by the fact
of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, with the risen and glorified Head in heaven.

This is an immense truth, and the practical carrying out of it will cost us not only all we have, but
all we are. There is no place in all the universe where self will be so pulled to pieces as in the
assembly of God. And is it not well? Is it not a powerful proof of the divine ground on which that
assembly is gathered? Are we not_should we not be_glad to have our hateful self thus pulled to
pieces? Shall we_ought we to_run away from those who do it for us? Are we not glad_do we
not often pray, to get rid of self? And shall we quarrel with those who are God’s instruments in
answering our prayers? True, they may do the work roughly and clumsily; but no matter for that.
Whoever helps me to crush and sink self does me a kind turn, however awkwardly he may do it.
One thing is certain, no man can ever rob us of that which, after all, is the only thing worth
having, namely, Christ. This is a precious consolation. Let self go; we shall have the more of

Christ. Euodias might lay the blame on Syntyche, and Syntyche on Euodias; the apostle does not
raise the question of which was right or of which was wrong, but he beseeches both to be "of the
same mind in the Lord."

We may range through the wide domain of inspiration and not find a more exquisite model of self-
surrender than that which is presented to us in the opening lines of Philippians 2. … Let us
approach the marvelous picture, and, gazing intently upon it, seek to catch its inspiration.

"If there be therefore any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the
Spirit, if any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye my joy, that ye be likeminded, having the same love,
being of one accord, of one mind. Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in
lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own
things, but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind be in you, which was also in
Christ Jesus:who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; but
made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the
likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient
unto death, even the death of the cross" (verses 1-8).

Here, then, is the divine remedy for envy and jealousy, strife and vain glory_in short, for self-
occupation in all its hideous forms. The inspired penman introduces to our hearts the self-emptied,
humble, obedient Man, Christ Jesus. Here was One who possessed all power in heaven and earth.
Divine majesty and glory belonged to Him. He was God over all, blessed for ever. By Him all
things were made, and by Him they subsist. And yet He appeared in this world as a poor man_a
servant_one who had not where to lay His head. . . . We never find Him taking care to supply
Himself with anything. His was a life of perfect self-surrender. He who was everything made
Himself nothing. He stood in perfect contrast with the first Adam, who being but a man thought
to make himself like God. . . . The Lord Jesus, who was the Most High God, took the very lowest
place among men. It is utterly impossible that any man can ever take so low a place as Jesus. The
word is, "He made Himself of no reputation." He went so low that no one could possibly put Him
lower. "He became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." … He was the despised,
neglected, self-emptied, meek, and lowly man, from first to last. He gave up all, even to life
itself. In a word, His self-surrender was complete.

And, now, mark the results:"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a
name which is above every name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in
heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (verses 9-11).

The blessed Lord Jesus took the very lowest place; but God has given Him the very highest. He
made Himself nothing; but God has made Him everything. . . . What does all this teach us? It
teaches us that the way to get up is to go down. This is a grand lesson, and one which we very
much need to learn. It would effectually deliver us from envy and jealousy, from strife and
vainglory, from self-importance and self-occupation. God will assuredly exalt those who, in the
spirit and mind of Christ, take the low place; and, on the other hand, He will, as assuredly, abase
those who seek to be somebody.

Oh! to be nothing! This is true liberty_true happiness-true moral elevation. And then what intense
power of attraction is found in one who makes nothing of himself! And, on the other hand, how
repulsive is a pushing, forward, elbowing, self-exalting spirit! How utterly unworthy is this of one
who bears the name of Him who made Himself of no reputation! Is it not an established truth that
ambition cannot possibly live in the presence of the One who emptied Himself? No doubt. An
"ambitious Christian" is a flagrant contradiction of terms.

But there are other samples of self-surrender presented to us in this exquisite chapter; they are
inferior no doubt to the divine model at which we have been gazing, for in this as in all things
else, Jesus must have the preeminence. Still, though inferior and imperfect, they are deeply
interesting and valuable to us. Look at Paul. See how deeply he had drunk into his Master’s spirit
of self-surrender:"Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and
rejoice with you all" (verse 17). This is most beautiful. Paul was ready to be nothing_to be
spent_to be poured forth as a libation upon the Philippians’ sacrifice. It mattered not to him who
presented the sacrifice, or who performed the service, provided the thing was done. Does not this
cause some of us to blush? How little do we know of this excellent spirit! How prone we are to
attach importance to work if we ourselves have anything to do with it! How little able to joy and
rejoice with others in their sacrifice and service! Our work, our preaching, our writings, have an
interest in our view quite different from those of any one else. In a word, self, self, detestable self,
creeps in even in that which seems to be the service of Christ. We are drawn to those who think
well of us and of our work, and retire from those who think otherwise. All this needs to be
judged. It is unlike Christ, and unworthy of those who bear His holy name. Paul had so learned
Christ as to be able to rejoice in the work and service of others as well as in his own; and even
where Christ was preached of contention, he could rejoice.

Then, again, look at Paul’s son in the faith, Timothy. Hearken to the glowing testimony borne to
him by the pen of inspiration. "But I trust in the Lord Jesus to send Timotheus shortly unto you,
that I also may be of good comfort, when I know your state. For I have no man likeminded, who
will naturally care for your state. For all seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ’s.
But ye know the proof of him, that as a son with the father, he hath served with me in the gospel"
(verses 19-22). Here was self-surrender. Timothy naturally cared for the saints; and that, too, at
a moment when all sought their own things. And yet, dear as Timothy was to Paul’s
heart_valuable as such a self-denying servant must have been to him in the work of the gospel,
he was willing to part with him for the sake of the Church. Timothy, likewise, was willing to be
separated from his invaluable friend and father in the faith in order to ease his anxious mind in
reference to the state of the Philippians. This was indeed proof of real devotedness and self-
surrender. Timothy did not talk of these things; he practiced them. He did not make a parade of
his doings; but Paul, by the Holy Spirit, engraved them on a tablet from which they can never be
erased. This was infinitely better. "Let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth" (Prov.
27:2).

Let us finally examine one more figure who occupies a prominent place in Philippians 2. It is
Epaphroditus. Who was he? Was he a great preacher? an eloquent speaker? a preeminently gifted
brother? We are not told. But this we are told, and told most powerfully and touchingly:he was
one who exhibited a lovely spirit of self-surrender. This is better than all the gifts and eloquence,

power and learning, that could possibly be concentrated in any single individual. Epaphroditus was
one of that illustrious class who seek to make nothing of themselves; and as a consequence the
inspired apostle spares no pains to exalt him:"Yet I supposed it necessary to send to you
Epaphroditus, my brother, and companion in labor, and fellow soldier, but your messenger, and
he that ministered to my wants" (verse 25). What a cluster of dignities! What a brilliant array of
titles! How little did this dear and unpretending servant of Christ imagine that he was to have such
a monument erected to his memory!

But what did this remarkable man do? He spent himself! It was not the surrender of his fortune
merely, but the surrender of himself. Let us hearken to the record concerning this man of Christ:
"He longed after you all, and was full of heaviness." Why? Was it because he was sick? because
of his pains, and aches, and privations? Nothing of the sort. Epaphroditus did not belong to the
generation of whiners and complainers. He was thinking of others. "He was full of heaviness,
because that ye had heard that he had been sick." How lovely! He was occupied about the
Philippians and their sorrow about him. The only thing that affected him in his illness was the
thought of how it would affect them. Perfectly exquisite! This honored servant of Christ had
brought himself to death’s door to serve others, and when there, in place of being occupied about
himself and his ailments, he was thinking of the sorrow of others. "He was sick nigh unto death;
but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon
sorrow" (verse 27). Can anything be more morally beautiful than this? It is one of the rarest
pictures ever presented to the human eye. There is Epaphroditus, nigh unto death for the sake of
others; but he is full of sorrow about the Philippians; and the Philippians are full of sorrow about
him; Paul is full of sorrow about both; and God comes and mingles Himself with the scene, and,
in mercy to all, raises up the loved one from the bed of death.

And then mark the tender solicitude of the blessed apostle:"I sent him therefore the more
carefully, that, when ye see him again, ye may rejoice, and that I may be the less sorrowful.
Receive him therefore in the Lord with all gladness; and hold such in reputation." Why? Was it
because of his gifts, his rank, or his wealth? No, but because of his self-surrender. "Because for
the work of Christ he was nigh unto death, not regarding his life, to supply your lack of service
toward me."

Oh! dear Christian reader, let us think on these things. We have introduced you to a picture, and
we leave you to gaze upon it. The grouping is divine. There is a moral line running through the
entire scene, and linking the figures into one striking group. . . . We have the blessed Lord,
perfect in His self-surrender, as in all beside; and then we have Paul, Timothy, and Epaphroditus,
each, in his measure, exhibiting the rare and lovely grace of self-surrender.

(From Short Papers, Vol. 1, by C. H. Mackintosh, Copyright 1975 by Believers Bookshelf,
Sunbury, Pennsylvania. Used by permission.)