“The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
Matthew 23:11-12
Some years ago, I spent four years working as a local parish priest in an inner city parish in Leeds. As a part of my ministry there, I took a number of funerals for people in the parish. It was a remarkable privilege, being invited into these lives in such moments of family grief and intimacy.
There was one visit to a bereaved lady, though, that took me by surprise. We talked through her loss, and made some plans for the funeral. And as I stood up to leave, I asked if I could use her bathroom.
Her response floored me.
“Oh, I didn’t realise you people needed to go.”
Somehow, somewhere, in this lady’s perspective of me as a Christian leader and priest had me on such a different plane of existence that she assumed that I never needed to pee.
I suppose if she’d thought about it for about three seconds longer, obviously she’d not have been surprised. She probably reprimanded herself for the comment after I’d left. It was a gut response in the moment.
But still, it was revealing. It illustrated something that I’ve felt as a Christian leader on many other occasion in ten thousand more subtle ways.
It illustrated this: titles separate. They lead to the elevation of some which can only lead to the relegation of others. It illustrated that leadership affords an individual a measure of personality power, that can stroke the ego of the leader while leaving everyone else feeling like a second-class citizen. It showed that such thinking creates an unholy meritocracy, where the leaders are viewed as the real participants and everyone else is relegated to spectator.
Such hierarchies can be insidious to the heart of a leader. The pedestal can be alluring. It offers a placebo solution to what the wounded ego craves, making the leader feel better but ultimately doing nothing for their deeper sickness. Jesus’ roasting of the scribes and Pharisees attacks this very narcissism. And while we see in these stinging rebukes a comprehensive demolition of egotistical leadership, His preceding words to His disciples give an insight into what kind of culture Jesus actually looks to build.
His words to them are for something so different.
“…you are not to be called rabbi, for you are all brothers.”
Not hierarchy. Not platform. Not celebrity. Not titles.
But family.
Leadership is real. It is essential. Good leadership can ignite the Church or organisation into fruitfulness and a culture of great vitality. Good leadership is a great gift. Many of you have leadership roles in the workplace or the church.
But the leadership of the Kingdom, Jesus teaches, is never about the elevation of the leader. Rather, it is about how greatly the leader elevates those around them. It is not measured by how many servants they have gathered, but by how greatly they serve.
In a world where platform and celebrity, likes and followers, influence and image, are counted and nurtured with such obsessive precision, the culture of Jesus is radically distinct.
It invites us to swim in the opposite direction. To change our habits and our decisions from being loaded by the motives of self-promotion to the daily question of how much we can promote others.
It changes our priorities, from how greatly we can be seen to how greatly we can serve.
It changes our relationships, from the cold insecurity of competition to the warmth of actual community.
And it purifies our gaze, away from wasting our energy through seeking proximity to celebrities in favour of enjoying the endless proximity we are given to our Saviour.
The journey is downwards. And it is also the journey to beautiful freedom.
Reflect:
Examine my heart.
What one thing can I stop doing today to turn my attention away from my self?
What one thing can I do today that will elevate someone I know?
Pray:
Father,
In some ways, it’s not hard to see all this.
I see it everywhere I look.
And in truth, I see it in me too.
But I also get the feeling that, were I to be able to turn my gaze from the obsessive insecurity about me
I would be happier.
I’d laugh more and love better and be more free.
And so, today,
May this be my movement:
May the elevation of others be my greater priority;
May the obsession with Self die away;
And may my tendency to seek security through proximity to the powerful
Be replaced by the secure knowledge
That I have unending proximity to the King of all Glory
And the Father who binds me to His heart;
That I may walk free,
And I may walk like the Jesus I follow.
In His Name,
Amen.
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Exodus 34:1-36:7 | Proverbs 6:1-19
Love this.