Recently, I listened to a song that captured my attention in a way that music today rarely does—Lower Still by My Epic. It’s not just a piece of music; it’s a powerful meditation on the humility of Jesus Christ and the immeasurable depths to which He descended for our salvation. In a world constantly striving for recognition, comfort, and status, this song is a holy interruption. It’s a stark reminder of what true humility looks like—and why it matters.
To be clear, this isn’t a review of a new song. This song is already 15 years old, but I didn’t know the Lord 15 years ago, so a lot of this sort of content is new to me. I sure could have used as encounter with this song 15 years ago, but I’ll trust God’s timing in revealing it to me at a time where I could appreciate it for what it is.
The lyrics of Lower Still walk us down the steps of Christ’s humiliation. From the glory of heaven to the womb of a teenage girl, from the carpenter’s bench to the Garden of Gethsemane, from trial and betrayal to the final breath on the cross, Jesus continually chose to go lower still. At each point where we would have demanded justice, recognition, or mercy, He went further down—embracing shame, suffering, and even death. And He did it for us.
This is not just good theology. This is the foundation of the Gospel.
As Philippians 2:6–8 says:
“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!”
The song mirrors this passage in spirit and tone, crying out with poetic intensity: “Oh, do you see, do you see just how low he has come?.” This isn’t despair—it’s worship. It’s reverence for a King who stooped lower than any of us ever could, in order to lift us up.
But this song does more than stir our hearts. It challenges them.
If Jesus, who was without sin, went so low for us, how can we not humble ourselves in response? Our pride has no place before the throne of a Savior who washed His disciples’ feet and bore the wrath meant for us. We are called not just to admire Christ’s humility, but to imitate it.
This means living lives that say, “Less of me, more of Him.” It means putting others above ourselves, embracing obedience even when it’s costly, and finding our worth not in status or recognition, but in the fact that we are loved by the One who became nothing so that we could be made new.
Make no mistake. I’m not exalting this band, or the members of it. I don’t know them. I don’t know their lives or struggles. I don’t know the sins they may have committed, or anything anyone on this earth has against them. I’m simply lifting up a song that is deeply foundational in it’s presentation of the Gospel, and I’m celebrating that. I hope you have many songs in your playlists and players that don’t just celebrate Christ’s love for you, but properly revere His endurance on our behalf. What an unsearchable miracle to consider.
Let Lower Still be more than a song in your playlist—let it be a posture of your heart.
In a world that exalts self-promotion, may we be a people who go lower still, not in weakness, but in reverent awe of the One who went lower first.
Let me know if you’d like to add a Scripture reading plan based on the themes in the song or create a devotional guide for a small group using this post.
