One of the favorite proof texts for Trinitarians is found right here in Paul's letter to the Philippians. And I want to read it with you today from an unlikely source — the Catholic Public Domain Version of the Bible.
Why that translation? Because it would be pretty hard to accuse a Bible from the church that established the Trinity back in 381 A.D. of being anti-Trinitarian. So let's use their own text.
But here's what I want you to do. I want you to try something difficult. I want you to read this as if you've never read it before. No Trinitarian lens. No anti-Trinitarian lens. Just the words.
“Let nothing be done by contention, nor in vain glory. Instead, in humility, let each of you esteem others to be better than himself. Let each of you not consider anything to be your own, but rather to belong to others. For this understanding in you was also in Christ Jesus: who, though he was in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something to be seized. Instead, he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and accepting the state of a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient even unto death, even the death of the Cross. Because of this, God has also exalted him and has given him a name which is above every name, so that, at the name of Jesus, every knee would bend, of those in heaven, of those on earth, and of those in hell, and so that every tongue would confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father.” ( Philippians 2:3-11 CPDV)
Now, before we get into any Greek word studies, I want to ask you some simple questions just from reading those words plainly.
Who exalted Jesus and gave him a name above every other name?
God did.
So if Jesus is God — if they are co-equal persons in the same Godhead — did God exalt himself? Did he give himself a name above every other? And if God already eternally holds a name above every other, why does Jesus need to receive it as a reward for his obedience?
And notice how Paul writes this. He doesn't blur the lines between the two. He refers to God as the Father, and to Jesus as the Lord. Two distinct persons, one rewarding the other. Does any of that make sense if Jesus simply is God?
I'll let you sit with that for a moment.
Now, a Trinitarian will zoom straight past all of that and land on verse 6.
"…though he was in the form of God…"
The Greek word there is. And the Trinitarian argument goes like this: morphē doesn't just mean outward appearance. It refers to the essential, defining nature of a thing — what something fundamentally is. And since Paul uses the same word in verse 7 — Jesus took on the morphē of a servant — the argument is that morphē means the same thing in both places. If Jesus genuinely and really became a servant, then he must have genuinely and really possessed the essential nature of God.
It sounds airtight. But there are several serious problems with it.
Problem one. The symmetry cuts both ways.
If morphē means essential nature, then when Jesus took on the morphē of a servant, he essentially and genuinely became subordinate, dependent, and obedient to another. Not temporarily. Not as a performance. In his actual nature. But classic Trinitarianism also insists that the divine nature is immutable — it cannot change, it cannot become something it was not. So the very argument Trinitarians use to establish Jesus' divinity simultaneously undermines one of the other pillars of their own doctrine. It proves too much.
Problem two. A servant is a relational category, not an ontological one.
When Paul says Jesus took the morphē of a servant, he is describing a role — how Jesus positioned himself in relation to others; not a metaphysical transformation of substance. And if that's the right reading in verse 7, it's available in verse 6 as well. Morphē in both places can simply mean: how something expresses and presents itself. Jesus expressed the character of God fully. And he expressed the character of a servant fully. Neither requires us to go all the way to the level of divine essence, substance, or nature.
Problem three. The argument assumes what it's trying to prove.
The claim that morphē means "essential nature" is the conclusion the Trinitarian wants to reach — and then it gets quietly slipped in as the premise. If you already accept the Trinitarian definition of morphē, the argument works. If you don't, the parallel construction doesn't settle anything — it just ensures the word means the same thing in both places, whatever that turns out to be.
But there's something even more fundamental here that almost never gets addressed. And this is critical, so stay with me.
In English, God — with a capital G — functions as a proper noun. We've taken a title and turned it into a name that refers to one specific, unique being. This matters enormously, because the Trinitarian argument about morphē meaning "nature" or "essence" slides right past it.
Here's an illustration. If a woman says to a man, "Father is looking for you," what do you immediately assume about them? That they're siblings. That they share the same father. She doesn't need to say "my father" — the proper noun usage identifies a specific person, not a category of being. We do the same with other titles like Dad or Papa. We turn them into proper nouns in some cases, that is, essentially a name for a specific person.
Now, if she says to her brother, "You're the spitting image of dad," she is not saying they share the same nature as humans. She's talking about resemblance in character and expression.
Even if I were to concede — and I don't — that morphē means nature in this passage, that still would not make Jesus equal to God. My being human and my father being human does not make us equal. Shared nature does not equal shared identity or equal standing.
God is not a nature. God is a name — a proper noun — referring to the supreme, almighty being. His name is not synonymous with his nature or essence — particularly when we're talking about the one who created nature, essence, and substance. Those categories don't contain him. He created them.
Now let's go back to that word the Catholic translation renders so accurately: seized.
"…did not consider equality with God something to be seized."
The Greek word is harpagmos. And here is where it gets vivid.
Harpagmos is the root from which we get the English word harpoon. And what is a harpoon? It's a barbed spear, hurled with force, designed to pierce something and hold on. The barb is the whole point — once it's in, it doesn't come out. You use a harpoon to violently take hold of something you don't already possess, have no legitimate right to, but want anyway.
Now think about who that description perfectly fits.
The devil wanted equality with God. Not equality in power — that was never achievable. But equality in position. He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted obedience. He wanted what belonged exclusively to God.
Jesus, though existing in the form of God, did the opposite. He refused to imitate the devil. He did not drive a harpoon into a position that wasn't his to take. He didn’t try to seize what was not his. Instead, he obeyed. He humbled himself. He took on the form of a servant, lived as a human being, and willingly surrendered his life in obedience to his Father.
And because he did that — because he refused to seize equality with God — God gave him the level of authority that the devil cravenly tried to steal. Only God the Father, Yehovah, is above Jesus now.
"God has also exalted him and has given him a name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus, every knee would bend... and every tongue would confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:9-11)
Here is what I want to leave you with.
When you read Philippians 2 through a Trinitarian lens — when you make this passage primarily about establishing the divine nature of Christ — you rob it of something profound.
Paul was not writing a theology lecture. He was writing a practical exhortation. He was telling ordinary people in Philippi: have this same mind in you that was in Christ Jesus. The whole point of the passage is that Jesus is your example. His humility, his obedience, his refusal to grasp at what doesn’t belong to him — these are things you can imitate. This is the example you are being called to emulate.
But if Jesus is the eternal, co-equal second person of a triune God temporarily wearing human flesh — how is that an example for you? You are not a divine being capable of setting aside divine prerogatives. You cannot follow that example because you are not that kind of being.
If, on the other hand, Jesus is a man — the son of God, filled with the expression of God's character — who faced the same temptation to grasp, to seize, to elevate himself, and who refused, then you have something to work with. Then Paul's exhortation has teeth.
So I'll ask the question plainly: who benefits from a Trinitarian reading of this passage?
Not you. Not the person trying to live humbly before God. Not the one trying to follow the example of Jesus.
Think about that.
Thank you for watching all the way to the end. And thank you for your continued support of this channel. Stay with us — there is much more ahead in this series.