Truly, truly, I say to you, no servant is greater than his master…John 13:16

Imagine this scenario.

There is a need in your church for someone to take on a particular ministry. Your Pastor makes the request to the body, but the body is slow to respond. A lot of hands suddenly become heavy as boat anchors. The request is neither long term nor difficult – and it is something you know how to do. So you say, OK, I’ll take that on. You certainly don’t need to serve in one more area, but at the time, the request seems worth while and reasonable.

The task requires a little extra time and a small dose of effort. It takes place in the background of churchy things, as much ministry actually does. You show up dutifully and follow through. But then by the second or third time, you notice things. First you notice that you’re all alone in this. Then you notice that others appear to be doing far more important things than what you are doing. Mostly you notice an awful lot of folks who tend to mill about, chatting, drinking coffee, having a lot of time on their hands – precious time which you’ve now given over. You ask yourself that impertinent question: “And where were they when Pastor called for help? “

Suddenly, your response to serve becomes burdensome and meaningless.  Inside of fruit, there is the tiniest seed of resentment which grows too quickly. Instead of your heart quickening with joy and love, your heart constricts into a coil. You feel put upon and invisible. You no longer have the heart of a servant.

Does this scene sound even faintly familiar? As Beth Moore often puts it in her videos, “Am I speaking to anyone out there?” Indeed so. I am describing myself more than any one else more times than I want to admit. Recently as I struggled through a similar episode, the Lord reminded me of a different story.

It is the last few days of Jesus’ life on earth, shortly before His crucifixion. Knowing all things that will take place, Jesus partakes of the Passover with His disciples in the Upper room. He eats supper with them and ministers to them one last time for one reason only – because of how fervently He loved them.

“Then He said to them, With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” Luke:22:15

Jesus then leaves them with a final, unforgettable lesson about being a Servant.  After supper,   He kneels down in front of each one and with the true heart of Servant, he washes twelve  pairs of filthy feet.

… He rose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself. After that He poured water into a a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel with which he was girded.”John:13:4-5

Jesus’ fervent desire was to eat with His disciples for the last time, but was it not also His fervent desire, his divine burning love which held their filthy feet, washed them clean and toweled them dry? About to die most horribly, Jesus , the Word made flesh and Master of all Creation, knelt down to do a slave’s work.

I can picture the story so clearly. Jesus; the perplexed disciples; the laden Passover table. Jesus’ garment folded on the floor. The towel knotted around His waist. I know this Servant Lord and what He endured for our salvation just hours later. I know the price He paid for our transgressions prophetically fulfilling Isaiah’s Suffering Servant. The Jesus whom Isaiah described as “smitten by God and afflicted, a Man of Sorrows, wounded for our iniquities, despised and bruised”, the Messiah whom the prophets never got to see is the Servant Jesus with the bowl of dirty water washing His friends’ feet.

My ministry  complaints are infantile  in the light of Jesus’ majestic, humble,  fervently loving  servanthood.

Imagine another scenario. Who else might have been in that Upper room? Who else might have witnessed Jesus washing feet?

Before the Passover, there are servants already in the Upper Room. The Word tells us that Jesus instructed Peter and John to prepare a room for the Passover, but it doesn’t give any details. Perhaps, just perhaps, there were house slaves bustling about for the Passover celebration. Someone had to help Peter and John  prepare the food, to set out all that was needed. Someone had to buy all the ingredients, cook the food, bring in the special Passover dishes. Someone had to provide Jesus the water and the towel. Working silently these unnamed servants watched Jesus and the twelve during the meal,  anticipating  their needs. And surely there were those who cleaned up the table and the room after Jesus and the disciples went out to the Garden.

I am touched to the heart by this picture of unknown, unrecognized servants who themselves served the Lord. What did they think about this strange Rabbi and his small band of followers? How could they have ever been the same after being witness to Jesus’ shocking actions in the Upper Room? Surely their lives were not the same. If I were there, would I not have done anything and everything to serve Jesus with all my heart? Wouldn’t even the most menial, ordinary task to serve Him be a privilege like no other? Wouldn’t I have run to the well for water and gladly taken the sodden towel from Him? Pleasing my Lord as His servant-slave would be all that I fervently desire!

Then why would being a servant of Jesus, for Jesus be any different now? In fact it is not. Being His Servant  is never about us at all.

EAG