ris3n's Apologetics Codex

Concept

Kenosis

kenosis, Kenotic Christology, Kenoticism, He Emptied Himself, Emptied Himself, Philippians 2 Kenosis, kenoo, Carmen Christi, self-emptying

Intro

There are ads on our codex that pay for hosting and keep the codex free. If you can, please consider whitelisting ris3n.com or allowing scripts to support the work.

Sponsored

Brands, events, influencers advertise here

Philippians 2:7 says that Christ "emptied himself." The Greek verb is kenoō, and the noun formed from it, kenosis, has become the name for a whole family of views about what happened to the Son of God at the incarnation.

The question is simple to state and easy to get wrong. Emptied himself of what?

The answer most people assume, that he set aside some of his divine powers in order to become human, is the one the sentence itself rules out. Paul never says what Christ emptied himself of. There is no "of" in the sentence at all. What follows instead is a pair of phrases explaining how he emptied himself: by taking the form of a servant, and by being made in human likeness. The emptying happens by addition, not by subtraction. He did not become less; he took on more.

This matters far beyond exegesis. A whole school of nineteenth-century theology built a Christology on the subtraction reading, and it produced a Jesus who was God with the divine attributes switched off. That view has a name, kenotic Christology, and its problems are severe enough that using it to answer a challenge usually concedes the challenge. If someone objects that Jesus got hungry and tired and therefore cannot have been God, reaching for a kenosis that means "he gave up being omnipotent for a while" hands them the argument. The orthodox answer runs the other way, and it is stronger.

In full

The kenosis hub, treating Philippians 2:5-11 exegetically, the nineteenth-century kenotic Christologies historically, and the boundary conditions any account must satisfy to remain within Chalcedonian orthodoxy. Sibling to Extra Calvinisticum, which supplies the positive doctrine that does the work kenoticism was invented to do, and to Communicatio Idiomatum, which governs how the two natures' properties are predicated of the one person.

The term derives from ekenōsen heauton in Philippians 2:7, within the hymn or encomium at 2:6-11 conventionally called the Carmen Christi. The passage is among the most heavily worked in the New Testament, and three separate disputes run through it: the meaning of morphē, the meaning of harpagmon, and the force of the participles following ekenōsen. Only the third is decisive for the doctrinal question, and it is the one most often skipped.

The distinction that organizes everything below is between ontological kenosis, the claim that the Son actually divested himself of divine attributes or properties, and functional kenosis, the claim that the Son voluntarily refrained from the independent exercise of divine prerogatives while retaining them. The first is the nineteenth-century innovation and it sits badly with Chalcedon, with divine immutability, and with the New Testament's own statements about what the Son was doing during the incarnation. The second is compatible with catholic orthodoxy and is roughly what the tradition had always meant.

The text

What Philippians 2:6-7 actually says

The structure, laid out clause by clause:

  • who, existing in the form of God (en morphē theou hyparchōn)
  • did not consider equality with God something to be grasped (harpagmon)
  • but emptied himself (heauton ekenōsen)
  • taking the form of a servant (morphēn doulou labōn)
  • being made in the likeness of men (en homoiōmati anthrōpōn genomenos)

The decisive grammatical point

There is no genitive of content. In ordinary Greek, when a verb of emptying takes an object of what is removed, that object appears. Paul supplies none. He writes heauton ekenōsen, "he emptied himself," absolutely, and then attaches two aorist participles, labōn and genomenos.

Those participles are best read as participles of means or manner: they specify the mode of the emptying. He emptied himself by taking the form of a servant. The self-emptying is not a prior subtraction that made room for the humanity; it is the assumption of the humanity, described in the language of self-abasement.

This is the majority reading among modern commentators across confessional lines, including Gordon Fee, Peter O'Brien, Moisés Silva, and Markus Bockmuehl. It also explains why the passage never says what was surrendered: nothing was.

Any ontological-kenotic reading has to supply the missing genitive from outside the text, and the choice of what to supply, usually omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence, comes from a theological program rather than from Paul.

The context is ethical, not metaphysical

The whole point of the passage in its setting is exhortation: "have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus" (2:5), following the appeal at 2:3-4 to regard others as more important than oneself. Paul is grounding humility in the pattern of the incarnation.

That context tells against the subtraction reading in a way that is easy to miss. The Philippians are not being asked to divest themselves of their properties. They are being asked to use what they have in the service of others rather than for their own advantage. The analogy works only if the emptying is about the disposition of what is possessed, not about ceasing to possess it.

Harpagmon

The disputed noun at 2:6 admits three main construals:

  1. Something seized (res rapta): equality with God was not something he had stolen
  2. Something to be seized (res rapienda): equality was not something he grasped after
  3. Something to be clung to or exploited (res retinenda): equality was not something to be used for his own advantage

Roy Hoover's philological study of the idiom harpagmon hēgeisthai (Harvard Theological Review 64, 1971) and N. T. Wright's development of it (Journal of Theological Studies 37, 1986) support the third construal, which is now widely followed. On that reading Paul is not saying the Son declined to seize something he lacked; he is saying he declined to exploit something he already had. That reading reinforces the addition reading of ekenōsen: possession is presupposed throughout.

The nineteenth-century kenotic Christologies

What they claimed

Beginning with Gottfried Thomasius of Erlangen in the 1840s and 1850s, and continuing through W. F. Gess in Germany and Charles Gore, P. T. Forsyth, and H. R. Mackintosh in Britain, a school of theologians argued that at the incarnation the Son genuinely divested himself of some divine attributes.

The usual form of the proposal distinguished:

  • Relative or physical attributes, omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, which were surrendered
  • Immanent or moral attributes, holiness, love, truth, which were retained

The motivation was serious and worth stating fairly. These theologians were responding to the rise of critical study of the Gospels and wanted a Christology that could accommodate a Jesus who grows in wisdom (Luke 2:52), does not know the day or hour (Mark 13:32), and is genuinely tempted. They judged that the classical account made the humanity look like a costume.

Why the proposal fails

  1. It makes divine attributes accidental rather than essential. If a being can shed omnipotence and remain God, then omnipotence was never essential to deity in the first place. But the attributes are not detachable accessories; on the classical account, defended in Divine Simplicity, God is not composed of parts that could be subtracted. A being who was omnipotent yesterday and is not today was never omnipotent in the sense classical theism means.

  2. It conflicts with divine immutability. See Divine Immutability. A change in what the Son possesses is a change in the divine nature, which is precisely what Chalcedon's "without change" (atreptōs) excludes.

  3. The New Testament says the Son was upholding the universe during the incarnation. Colossians 1:17 says that in him all things hold together, and Hebrews 1:3 describes him as upholding all things by the word of his power, using a present participle. Neither text permits a period during which the Son had laid down the sustaining of creation. This is the doctrine treated at Extra Calvinisticum, and it is flatly incompatible with strong kenoticism.

  4. It does not actually solve the problem it was invented for. The Gospel data about growth, ignorance, and temptation are handled by the two-natures account without any surrender of attributes, since those predicates attach to the human nature. The kenotic proposal pays a very high metaphysical price for a result already available.

  5. Apologetically, it concedes objections rather than answering them. This is the practical point. When a Muslim or Unitarian objector argues that Jesus ate, slept, grew, and was ignorant, and therefore was contingent and not God, the strong-kenotic reply agrees that the Son's divine properties were suspended, which grants the objector's premise and then tries to survive it. The orthodox reply denies the premise: nothing was suspended, and the predicates in question belong to the assumed human nature. See the reduplicative strategy at Communicatio Idiomatum.

The contemporary discussion

Analytic philosophers of religion have revived a more careful version. Rather than saying the Son gave up omnipotence, some propose that the divine attributes be reconstrued as conditional, for instance omnipotent-unless-freely-and-temporarily-incarnate. Ronald Feenstra, Stephen Davis, and contributors to C. Stephen Evans's Exploring Kenotic Christology (Oxford, 2006) develop versions of this.

The proposal is more sophisticated than the nineteenth-century form and it is not obviously heretical, but it faces two standing objections: the conditional attributes look gerrymandered to fit the case they were built for, and the account still has to explain Colossians 1:17 and Hebrews 1:3. Thomas Morris's two-minds model (The Logic of God Incarnate, 1986) and Oliver Crisp's critique (Divinity and Humanity, 2007) are the main alternatives on offer. Donald Macleod (The Person of Christ, 1998) and Stephen Wellum (God the Son Incarnate, 2016) give the standard confessional criticisms.

The codex does not adjudicate the analytic dispute. It holds the boundary: any account on which the Son ceased to possess a divine attribute is outside Chalcedon.

The orthodox account

What the tradition means by kenosis:

  • Addition, not subtraction. The Son took a full human nature into personal union without ceasing to be or to possess anything he was. The result is one person in two natures, treated at Hypostatic Union.
  • Veiling, not divesting. The glory proper to the Son was concealed rather than surrendered. The transfiguration is the moment the veil lifts.
  • Voluntary non-use of prerogatives. In the state of humiliation the Son did not exercise divine prerogatives independently but acted in dependence on the Father and by the Spirit. This is functional and voluntary, and it entails no loss.

The seventeenth-century Lutheran Giessen and Tübingen theologians divided over a narrower version of this question, whether during the humiliation Christ's human nature abstained from using the communicated divine attributes (Giessen) or used them secretly (Tübingen). The controversy is a useful marker of how carefully the tradition tried to keep non-use distinct from non-possession.

Analogy warning

Use no analogy here. State the distinction directly. Every popular illustration of the incarnation encodes a heresy, and a knowledgeable opponent will name it:

Analogy What it teaches The error
God putting on a diving suit or a costume The divine person wears the humanity externally and separably Nestorian; Chalcedon's "without division, without separation" excludes it
Water, ice, and steam One substance in three modes Modalist; denies the distinction of persons
A centaur, half one thing and half another The natures blend into a third thing Confuses the natures; Chalcedon's "without confusion" excludes it

The correct move in live conversation is to state the two-natures grammar plainly: one person, two natures, each retaining its own properties, neither converted into the other, and predicates assigned to the person by way of the nature to which they properly belong.

See also

Common questions this page answers

Q: What does it mean that Jesus "emptied himself" in Philippians 2:7?

It means he took on a human nature, not that he gave up divine attributes. The decisive point is grammatical: Paul supplies no object for the emptying. There is no "of" in the sentence, no genitive of content naming what was surrendered. He writes "he emptied himself" absolutely, and then attaches two participles that specify the mode: taking the form of a servant, and being made in human likeness. Those participles explain how the emptying happened. The self-emptying is the assumption of humanity, described in the language of self-abasement. The emptying is by addition, not subtraction. Any reading that says he divested himself of omniscience or omnipotence has to import the missing object from a theological program rather than from the text.

Q: Did Jesus give up his divine attributes when he became human?

No, and any account on which he ceased to possess a divine attribute falls outside Chalcedonian orthodoxy. Three reasons. First, if a being can shed omnipotence and remain God, omnipotence was never essential to deity, which collapses classical theism's account of the divine nature. Second, it contradicts divine immutability and Chalcedon's explicit "without change." Third, and most concretely, the New Testament says the Son was sustaining the universe during the incarnation: Colossians 1:17 has all things holding together in him, and Hebrews 1:3 has him upholding all things by the word of his power, in the present tense. There was no interval during which the Son had put creation down. What the tradition affirms instead is voluntary non-use of divine prerogatives, which is entirely different from non-possession.

Q: What is kenotic Christology and why is it a problem?

Kenotic Christology is a nineteenth-century school, beginning with Gottfried Thomasius at Erlangen and continuing through Charles Gore and P. T. Forsyth in Britain, which held that at the incarnation the Son genuinely divested himself of the "relative" divine attributes, omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence, while retaining the "moral" attributes of holiness, love, and truth. Its motivation was serious: it wanted a Christology that could accommodate a Jesus who grows in wisdom and does not know the day or hour. But it makes divine attributes detachable accessories rather than essential, it conflicts with immutability, and it cannot account for Colossians 1:17 or Hebrews 1:3. It also pays a very high metaphysical price for a result the two-natures account already supplies, since growth and ignorance attach to the human nature without any surrender.

Q: If Jesus was God, why did he not know the day or the hour?

Because that predicate belongs to his human nature, and the two-natures grammar assigns predicates to the one person by way of the nature to which they properly belong. The same person can be truthfully described as omniscient with respect to his divine nature and as limited in knowledge with respect to his human nature, without contradiction, because the qualifications are doing real work. This is ordinary predication for anything with two natures rather than a special pleading device invented for Christ. The kenotic route, saying he gave up omniscience, is not needed to explain the data and creates larger problems than it solves. See Communicatio Idiomatum and Hypostatic Union.

Q: Can I use kenosis to answer the objection that Jesus ate food and therefore was contingent?

Not the strong form, and reaching for it will lose the exchange. If you answer that the Son suspended his divine properties during the incarnation, you have granted exactly what the objector needs and are now trying to survive the concession. The stronger reply denies the premise: nothing was suspended. Christ's human nature is genuinely contingent and began at the incarnation, and conceding that costs nothing, since denying it is Apollinarianism or docetism. What does not follow is that the divine person is contingent. The objection slides from the contingency of an assumed nature to the contingency of the person who assumed it. Pair the reduplicative distinction with Extra Calvinisticum: at the moment Jesus was hungry, the same person was sustaining the wheat.

Q: What is a good analogy for the incarnation?

There is not one, and this is a case where the right move is to use no analogy at all. Every popular illustration encodes a heresy that a knowledgeable opponent can name. The diving suit or costume is Nestorian, because a suit is external, worn, and separable, which is exactly what Chalcedon's "without division, without separation" excludes. Water, ice, and steam is modalist, since it makes the persons modes of one subject. The centaur confuses the natures, which "without confusion" excludes. State the grammar directly instead: one person, two natures, each retaining its own properties, neither converted into the other.