Scripture: Philippians 2:5–11; James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5–6; Matthew 23:12
We end where we began—with Jesus, the ultimate and perfect model of humility. Over these 28 days, we have traced humility through the lives of prophets and kings, widows and warriors, disciples and outsiders, leaders and servants. Yet every example has ultimately pointed us back to Christ, whose descent from heaven to the cross defines humility for all eternity.
Paul writes that Jesus, “being in very nature God,” did not cling to His divine status or exploit His equality with God for personal advantage. Instead, “He made Himself nothing.” This is the great paradox of the gospel: the One who had everything chose surrender; the One who deserved all honor chose obscurity. Humility is not weakness—it is strength restrained for love’s sake.
The Greek word kenōsis, meaning “to empty,” describes Christ’s self-limitation. Jesus did not stop being God, but He chose not to exercise His divine rights. The Creator entered creation. The eternal Word became an infant. The Sustainer of the universe experienced hunger, fatigue, rejection, and sorrow. This is humility’s heartbeat: voluntarily laying down privilege for the good of others.
Yet the descent continued. Jesus “humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.” Crucifixion was the most degrading execution imaginable, reserved for slaves and rebels. The sinless Son of God endured shame, suffering, and abandonment. Why? “For the joy set before him” (Hebrews 12:2)—the joy of redeeming a broken world. Love expressed itself through humility.
Then comes heaven’s reversal: “Therefore God exalted him to the highest place.” The way down became the way up. The cross became the doorway to resurrection. The Servant was crowned King. This is not only Christ’s story—it is the pattern of the Kingdom. “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6).
Throughout this journey, Scripture has shown us this truth repeatedly. Moses trusted God to defend him. Hannah surrendered her miracle back to God. John the Baptist rejoiced to decrease. Andrew introduced others to Jesus without seeking credit. Mary Magdalene remained faithful in the dark and became the first witness of the resurrection. Again and again, humility became the soil where grace flourished.
Humility is not thinking less of yourself—it is thinking less about yourself. It is choosing obedience over recognition, surrender over control, faithfulness over visibility. It is trusting that God sees what others overlook and rewards what the world ignores.
This is a lifelong journey. Humility is not achieved once and secured forever. Pride constantly reappears—sometimes loud, sometimes subtle, sometimes disguised as spirituality. The call of humility must be answered daily: Will I defend myself or trust God? Will I insist on my rights or release them? Will I seek recognition or serve unseen?
But here is the hope: every humble choice forms Christ in you. Every unseen act of obedience aligns you with heaven’s values. “Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time” (1 Peter 5:6). God’s exaltation may not look like applause or influence, but it will look like transformation—and that is far greater.
The goal of humility is not to become impressive but to become Christlike. It is learning to descend so others may rise. It is finding joy not in being served, but in serving. And it is discovering that when you lose your life for Jesus’ sake, you truly find it.
As this journey ends, choose one daily practice that cultivates humility—serving anonymously, celebrating others, confessing pride quickly, or depending openly on God’s grace. Let humility become not a season, but a way of life.
“The way down is the way up—because humility walks the path Jesus walked, and that path always leads to resurrection.”