The Surprising Side of Servanthood

Some things are especially hard to put into words ... but as a preacher, I feel obligated to try!

This year during chapel I have been preaching through a sermon series entitled, "Descending into Greatness: Lessons on Leadership from the Servant King," based on the life and leadership of Jesus. As I prepared for the final installment in this series recently, which focused on the foot-washing episode in John 13, I felt impressed to enact this particular passage rather than try and explain it. My hope was that participating in an actual foot-washing service would help each of us move from a merely intellectual understanding of servant leadership to an experiential one. As with most sermons, no one needed this message more than the preacher himself.

John 13 is one of my favorite passages in the Bible. I have preached and taught on it many times. In the past, however, I have typically placed primary emphasis on the conclusion of this story, where Jesus admonishes his disciples to follow his example by serving others in humble, loving obedience to their Lord and Master. But this time the first part of the story really jumped out at me. As I was sitting in a circle, surrounded by a small group of fellow students and colleagues, I began to understand in a new way the level of discomfort that Peter may have had that night in the upper room.

After three intense years of learning, growing, and working with their beloved Teacher, Jesus capped it all off with a dramatic "graduation ceremony" that was unlike anything they could have expected. While Peter (and the rest of the disciples) certainly would have been prepared to serve Jesus in any way possible, just as they had done so vigorously for the past three years, the Teacher turned the tables on the students and served them instead. "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me," the Master said.

As I meditated on this reality, prayerfully preparing to serve the others in my circle that day in chapel, I was surprised to find that someone was already taking the initiative to serve me. It was my daughter, Sarah. My child, the one that I have held, fed, clothed and bathed, was washing my feet. Before I had time to recover, I found yet another student picking up the bucket and the towel. This time it was Jesse, one of my pastoral ministry majors. My student, the one that I have taught, advised, mentored and discipled, was washing my feet. To borrow the words of Brennan Manning, I found myself "dazed, dumbstruck, weeping, and suddenly seized by the power of a great affection." Sarah and Jesse may have been holding the towel that day in chapel, but there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that it was Jesus himself who has doing the washing.

And it hit me like a ton of bricks: Before we can serve others, we must first be served by Christ.

This is the same reality that has been at the center of my doctoral studies in leadership and spiritual formation at George Fox Evangelical Seminary during the past few years, and it all came to a head on Friday night during the hooding ceremony in Portland. After three years of strenuous learning, growing and working with my faithful teachers in the DMin program at Fox, the Lord Jesus "washed my feet" through the events that took place that night. My teachers who served me so well throughout the program - not only by offering faithful instruction, but by befriending me, encouraging me, affirming me and believing in me - washed my feet one last time as they presented me with a doctoral robe, hood, medal and a bound copy of my dissertation (to which they attached additional expressions of honor and appreciation).

Taken together, this ceremony provided a dramatic exclamation point to the whole doctoral process, a surprisingly powerful expression of the Lord's amazing love for me. There is no greater gift than to be loved by God, and no greater expression of servant leadership. I pray that I may be empowered to give away this same measure of love as freely as I have received it.