On the desk Chinaza inherited, there was a brass plaque. It had been a gift to her predecessor from a leadership seminar in Abuja, and it said, in raised capital letters, SERVANT LEADER. She had been appointed general manager of a packaging plant in Agbara after eighteen years in the company, the first woman to hold the post. On her first morning she sat behind the desk, looked at the plaque for a long moment, and put it in the bottom drawer.
“I did not feel I had earned it,” she told me. “And I was not sure he had either.”
Her first rainy season came in June. The Lagos-Badagry road flooded, as it does, and traffic stood still for hours. One morning Chinaza drove in before six and saw a cluster of young women standing under a pedestrian bridge at the junction, soaked to the skin, holding their bags over their heads. She recognised two of them. They were machine operators coming off the night shift, waiting for the staff bus to take them home.
She asked the transport officer later that morning why the bus was so late. He looked puzzled by the question. The bus had always gone first to Ikeja and Ogba to collect the managers for the day shift. It came back for the night-shift operators afterwards. On a good day they waited forty minutes. In the rains, two hours. It had been that way for as long as anyone could remember, and nobody had thought to change it, because nobody who decided the route ever had to wait under the bridge.
Chinaza changed the route that week. The bus would collect the night shift first. Managers could take the second run or drive themselves. Two of her senior colleagues came to her office to complain. One of them used the word protocol. Another said, half joking, “Madam, you are turning this place upside down.”
He was closer to the truth than he knew. Turning things upside down is exactly what Jesus did with leadership. And the plaque in the bottom drawer is a good place to begin, because the title a leader gives himself is the least important thing about whether he is serving.
Two brothers and a blank cheque
The setting matters. Jesus and His disciples were on the road to Jerusalem, and He was walking ahead of them. Mark says they were amazed and afraid. Jesus took the Twelve aside and told them, for the third time and in the plainest detail yet, what was about to happen: He would be betrayed, condemned, mocked, spat upon, scourged and killed, and on the third day He would rise again (Mark 10:32-34). It is hard to imagine a more solemn moment.
Then this happened:
And James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come unto him, saying, Master, we would that thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall desire. And he said unto them, What would ye that I should do for you? They said unto him, Grant unto us that we may sit, one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left hand, in thy glory. But Jesus said unto them, Ye know not what ye ask: can ye drink of the cup that I drink of? and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with? And they said unto him, We can. And Jesus said unto them, Ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of; and with the baptism that I am baptized withal shall ye be baptized: But to sit on my right hand and on my left hand is not mine to give; but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared. And when the ten heard it , they began to be much displeased with James and John.
Look at the opening request: “Master, we would that thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall desire.” They wanted a blank cheque before they named the amount. That is the instinct of power everywhere. It wants authority first and explanations later. And what they wanted was seats, one on His right hand and the other on His left, the places of highest honour when He came into His glory.
Jesus did not shout at them. He asked whether they understood what they were asking. “Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of?” In the Old Testament the cup is often the cup of suffering or of God’s judgement. The baptism He speaks of is an immersion in suffering. They answered, with the cheerful confidence of men who had no idea, “We can.” And Jesus told them they would indeed share His cup. James would become the first of the apostles to be martyred (Acts 12:2). John would live long and suffer exile. They would get the cup. The seats were another matter.
Then Mark adds the line that exposes all twelve: “And when the ten heard it, they began to be much displeased with James and John.” The ten were not offended by the ambition. They were offended that the brothers had asked first. The whole group shared the same picture of leadership. It was a ladder, and the question was who would climb it fastest.
Greatness turned upside down
Jesus called them together and gave the teaching that has become the charter of Christian leadership. The rulers of the Gentiles, He said, “exercise lordship over them.” But “so shall it not be among you: but whosoever will be great among you, shall be your minister” (Mark 10:43). The word for minister is diakonos, a servant who waits at table. Then He went further: “whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all” (Mark 10:44). That word is doulos, a bondservant. And He grounded it all in Himself: “the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).
It is striking that the disciples needed to hear this more than once. Luke records the same quarrel breaking out again at the Last Supper itself, with the bread and the cup on the table between them:
And there was also a strife among them, which of them should be accounted the greatest. And he said unto them, The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and they that exercise authority upon them are called benefactors. But ye shall not be so: but he that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger; and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. For whether is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? is not he that sitteth at meat? but I am among you as he that serveth.
Notice the word benefactors. The kings of the nations liked to be called Euergetes, benefactor. Several rulers of Egypt and Syria carried it as an official title. They used power for themselves and called it generosity. Jesus noticed how easily power gives itself flattering names. The modest title costs nothing. What matters is the direction in which the benefit actually flows.
Then Jesus asked a question every culture can answer. “For whether is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth? is not he that sitteth at meat?” Of course it is. In Lagos, in Jerusalem, at any party where someone is carrying the trays, the guests at the table outrank the person serving them. And then He turned it over: “but I am among you as he that serveth.”
Here is something we should not miss. Jesus did not simply teach this. He placed His teaching alongside His example. In Luke the words come at the supper table. In John, at the same supper, we see what He did with His hands. The teaching and the towel belong together. A leader who quotes Mark 10 but never picks up the towel has only half the lesson. A leader who does menial tasks for show but never surrenders his privileges in real decisions has missed the other half.
He knew who He was
John’s account of the foot-washing begins with a sentence that deserves careful reading: “Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God; He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself” (John 13:3-4).
Look at what Jesus knew before He knelt. He knew that all things had been given into His hands. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was going. He was not confused about His authority. He was the most secure person in that room.
And it was precisely that security that set Him free to kneel.
Foot-washing was the work of the lowest servant in a household. Roads were dusty, sandals were open, and feet were filthy by evening. Jewish tradition generally did not require even a Hebrew slave to wash his master’s feet; it was considered too demeaning. On this evening no servant was present, and none of the disciples volunteered. They had just been arguing about greatness. Whoever picked up the basin would be admitting he was the least.
So the Lord of glory did it. “After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded” (John 13:5). He washed the feet of Peter, who would deny Him that night. He washed the feet of Judas, into whose heart the devil had already put the betrayal (John 13:2).
This is the deepest secret of servant leadership. Insecure leaders cannot serve. They need the seat, the title and the protocol, because without them they are not sure who they are. Every act of service feels like a threat to their standing. But a leader who knows he is loved by the Father, whose identity was settled in Christ before he ever received a position, can take the basin without fear of losing anything. Identity comes before activity, in leadership as in every part of the Christian life.
PunchlineJesus knelt with the basin because He knew who He was. Insecure leaders need the seat; secure leaders are free to pick up the towel.
Know ye what I have done to you?
Peter, characteristically, objected. “Lord, dost thou wash my feet?” And then, more firmly, “Thou shalt never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me” (John 13:6-8). Before Peter could ever serve like Jesus, he had to let Jesus serve him. That is where every Christian leader begins: not with our service to others, but with being washed by Christ. We lead out of what we have received.
Then Jesus put His garments back on, sat down, and explained:
So after he had washed their feet, and had taken his garments, and was set down again, he said unto them, Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.
“Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am.” Jesus did not wash feet by pretending He had no authority. He did not say, “Do not call me Lord; I am just one of you.” He affirmed His authority in the same breath as He explained His service. “If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
This corrects a common misunderstanding. Servant leadership does not mean the absence of leadership. Jesus still taught, decided, rebuked and directed. He set the agenda for His disciples’ lives. What servant leadership changes is the purpose and manner of authority. Real authority is used for the good of others, and it is willing to pay the cost itself.
Some Christian traditions practise foot-washing as an ordinance, and where it is done with sincerity it can be a moving reminder. Most believers understand Jesus’ command to reach beyond the literal act to the whole pattern of humble service it represents. Either way, the final sentence applies: “If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.” The blessing is not in knowing. It is in doing.
The mind that went down
Paul took the foot-washing and showed the whole shape of the incarnation behind it. Writing to a church troubled by rivalry and self-interest, he said: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:5-7).
“Made himself of no reputation.” The older translations caught something important there. Christ did not cease to be God. He set aside the privileges and display of His equality with God and took the form of a servant. The movement is downward, again and again: from heaven to earth, from glory to the form of a servant, from life to death, and then to the lowest death of all, “even the death of the cross” (Philippians 2:8). At every step He gave up a right He genuinely possessed.
Notice the reason Paul gives this passage. It is not abstract theology. Just before it he writes, “Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others” (Philippians 2:4). The mind of Christ is meant to shape the way believers treat one another in ordinary church life.
Notice too what happens next. “Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him” (Philippians 2:9). Jesus did not exalt Himself. The Father exalted Him. That is the pattern for every servant leader. Our task is to go down. Whether we are lifted up, and when, is God’s business. A leader who serves in order to be promoted has not yet understood the mind of Christ. He is using the towel as a ladder.
Service shows up in decisions
NuggetHere is where servant leadership becomes costly. It is easy to talk about humility in a sermon or put it on a plaque. It becomes real when a decision must be made and someone must bear the cost.
There is a moving story near the end of 2 Samuel. David was hiding in the cave of Adullam while the Philistines held Bethlehem, his hometown. He was thirsty, and he spoke aloud a longing that perhaps he did not mean as a command:
And David longed, and said, Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Beth-lehem, which is by the gate! And the three mighty men brake through the host of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well of Beth-lehem, that was by the gate, and took it , and brought it to David: nevertheless he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the LORD . And he said, Be it far from me, O LORD , that I should do this: is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives? therefore he would not drink it. These things did these three mighty men.
Three of his mighty men heard their king’s wish and risked their lives to fulfil it. They broke through the enemy lines, drew water from the well by the gate, and carried it back. It was the kind of loyalty any leader would treasure. And David would not drink it. He poured it out on the ground as an offering to the Lord, and said, “is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives?”
David refused to treat his men’s risk as a luxury for his own enjoyment. He recognised that leadership had given his casual wishes a dangerous weight, and that the people beneath him would pay for his comforts if he let them.
Every leader’s decisions carry that weight. Who waits under the bridge so that you do not have to? When the budget is cut, whose allowance goes first? When there is credit to be given, whose name is announced? When something has gone wrong, who stands in front of the board to answer for it? In a church, who sits on the plastic chairs while the leaders have the cushioned ones, and who stands in the sun to direct traffic while the ministers are driven to the door?
Servant leadership takes concrete shape in questions like these. It means designing the bus route around those with the least power, not those with the most. It means taking the blame publicly and giving the credit away. It means saying, when redundancies come, “We will reduce senior salaries first.” It means scheduling the meeting at a time that suits the volunteers who work in the market, not just the pastor’s diary. None of this requires a title. All of it requires a decision.
Service shows up in how people are treated
Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, faced a revolt at the very beginning of his reign. The northern tribes came to him and asked him to lighten the heavy burden his father had placed on them. Before answering, he consulted the older men who had served Solomon:
And king Rehoboam consulted with the old men, that stood before Solomon his father while he yet lived, and said, How do ye advise that I may answer this people? And they spake unto him, saying, If thou wilt be a servant unto this people this day, and wilt serve them, and answer them, and speak good words to them, then they will be thy servants for ever.
That is one of the finest pieces of leadership advice in the Old Testament. “If thou wilt be a servant unto this people this day, and wilt serve them, and answer them, and speak good words to them, then they will be thy servants for ever.” Serve them. Answer them. Speak good words to them. Rehoboam rejected the counsel, listened instead to the young men who had grown up with him, and promised to make the burden heavier. The kingdom split that same day, and never fully recovered.
Notice how practical the old men’s advice was. Answer them. Take their questions seriously. Speak good words. Treat them with dignity in the way you talk. Servant leadership is not mainly about grand gestures. It shows up in whether you know the names of the cleaners, whether you correct people privately or humiliate them publicly, whether you return calls from people who cannot help your career, whether you listen to a complaint without becoming defensive.
Isaiah’s portrait of the coming Servant of the Lord, fulfilled in Jesus (Matthew 12:17-21), gives the same emphasis:
Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth; I have put my spirit upon him: he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth. He shall not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth: and the isles shall wait for his law.
“A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench.” A reed that is already cracked, a lamp wick that is barely smouldering: these are the people a careless leader breaks without noticing. The tired worker, the struggling member, the young staff member who made an expensive mistake. The Servant does not finish them off. He handles them with care until they recover. And yet “He shall not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth.” Gentleness and strength belong together in Him.
What servant leadership is not
Because the phrase servant leadership has become popular, it needs some guard-rails.
It does not mean doing whatever people want. Jesus served His disciples’ good, not their preferences. He rebuked Peter sharply when Peter tried to talk Him out of the cross (Mark 8:33). He overturned the tables of the money-changers. Serving people sometimes means disappointing them. A parent who serves a child does not give the child everything he cries for.
It does not mean having no authority or refusing to make decisions. “Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am.” A leader who will not lead, who avoids hard conversations and leaves conflict unresolved in the name of humility, is not serving anyone. He is leaving the weakest people exposed to the loudest ones.
It does not mean that those who serve under a leader must endure mistreatment. Jesus’ call to wash feet is addressed to leaders as their model of humility. It is never a reason for a worker, a junior pastor, a domestic staff member or a wife to remain in a situation of abuse. Where there is violence, sexual exploitation or serious harm, the right response is safety, reporting to the proper authorities and qualified help.
And it does not mean adopting a modest title. In some circles servant of God has become a title of rank, used to place a person beyond question. A leader may call himself the servant of the house and still occupy the best chair, receive the largest envelope, and silence anyone who disagrees. The language of servanthood can become one more benefactor’s title. The test is never what a leader calls himself. It is what his decisions do, and how the people around him are treated.
Chinaza led the plant for seven years. There were hard seasons. When the company went through a painful restructuring in her fourth year, she began by cutting her own allowances and those of the senior managers before a single operator lost a shift. She knew the names of most of the four hundred staff. She was not soft. More than one manager discovered that she could be very firm indeed with people who mistreated those beneath them.
At her farewell, the night-shift operators presented her with a card. It had been passed around the factory floor for a week and was covered with signatures. One line had been written larger than the rest, in careful block letters. You never told us you were a servant. You just made the bus come to us first.
She told me she cried when she read it. Then she went back to her office and opened the bottom drawer. The plaque was still there.
Punchline“I left it for the next person,” she said. “Maybe they will need the reminder. But I hope they put it in the drawer too, and just change the route.”
That is what leading like Christ looks like. Not the plaque. The route. The Lord of glory knew exactly who He was, and that is why He could take the towel. Know who you are in Him. Then go and find out who is waiting under your bridge.
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- Where in your leadership, at home, in church or at work, do people wait so that you do not have to?
- Jesus knelt because He knew who He was. In what ways does insecurity make it hard for you to serve?
- Before Peter could serve like Jesus, he had to let Jesus wash him. How does receiving Christ’s grace shape the way you lead?
- What decision could you make this month that would place the cost on yourself rather than on those with less power?
- Rehoboam’s counsellors said, “answer them, and speak good words to them.” Whose questions or concerns have you been slow to answer?
This Week
This week, choose one routine in your area of leadership, whether a schedule, a seating arrangement, a payment process or a meeting time, and ask honestly who bears its cost. Speak to at least two people affected by it who have little power to change it. If the routine places unnecessary burdens on them for your convenience, change it, and tell them that you have.
A Prayer
Lord Jesus, You knew that the Father had given all things into Your hands, and You took a towel and knelt at the feet of Your disciples. Wash me first, so that I lead from what I have received from You. Settle my identity in Your love, so that I no longer need a seat or a title to know who I am. Show me where others carry costs that I should carry, and give me courage to change it. Teach me to answer people, to speak good words, and to handle bruised reeds with care. Let my decisions, not my titles, show that I follow You. Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.