Let the Greatest Among You be a Servant
Recovering the Power of Servant-Leadership in an Age of Self-Promotion
One thing the military never stops talking about is leadership. From the moment you raise your right hand, leadership development becomes the ever-present drumbeat in military courses, evaluations, doctrine, mentorship, and command philosophies. And rightly so. In times of war and peace alike, good leadership can mean the difference between chaos and cohesion, despair and resilience.
But being a chaplain in the military with no command authority, I’ve often found myself asking a deeper question: What does leadership look like when the rank is stripped away? What happens when there’s no chain of command, no uniform, no enforced followership? Only people watching you live. That kind of leadership can’t be mandated. It can’t be ordered. It must be earned. And it’s far more revealing.
There is a kind of leadership that doesn’t begin with titles but with towels. One that doesn’t climb the ladder but descends the stairs. A kind that inspires not by commanding loyalty, but by giving itself away so fully, so consistently, that others freely say, “That’s the kind of life I want to follow. That’s the kind of leader I want to be.”
In a culture obsessed with influence and image, we need to recover something older, stranger, and more powerful: servant leadership. But before we can understand what it truly is, we must first confront everything it’s not.
What Servant Leadership Is Not
To embrace the radical beauty of servant leadership, we first have to name its impostors. Like rust on a sword, these distortions weaken something meant to be strong and sharp. They offer the appearance of virtue, but lack the substance of sacrifice. If we are to lead as Christ leads, we must first expose and discard the masks that often parade as humility.
1. It’s Not a Branding Strategy for Ambition
We live in an age where humility is marketable, and servant leadership is a buzzword used to build platforms, not wash feet. The danger isn’t just outside the Church, it is just as prominent (if not more) within. It’s in every heart that seeks to appear godly while hungering for applause. Too many have learned to sound like servants while secretly strategizing for success. Success isn’t itself bad, but it is when it sees people as only a means to it.
This counterfeit version wears a soft voice and says all the right things, but its core is transactional: I’ll serve you, as long as I benefit too. It manipulates trust to increase influence. It’s leadership that bows outwardly but schemes inwardly.
Christ did not use service to ascend, rather He descended, all the way to death. The true servant does not seek the spotlight; they often carry the cross into the shadows.
Servant leadership is not about curating an image, it’s about crucifying the self.
2. It’s Not Being a Doormat or People-Pleaser
Another distortion is the idea that a servant leader must be endlessly agreeable, always accommodating, perpetually nice, but this isn’t biblical service. This is just fear wrapped in flattery. And fear never produces faithfulness.
Jesus, the model of servant leadership, was compassionate, but He was never cowardly. He spoke hard truths, called out hypocrisy, and challenged entire systems of injustice. He wept with the broken and rebuked the proud in the same breath. His servanthood never meant silence in the face of sin or injustice.
True servant leadership is not passive. It’s not appeasement. It’s the kind of love that wounds only because it longs to heal. It’s the refusal to let others perish in comfort. It’s the courage to confront, the boldness to say, “This is not right,” even when your voice trembles.
The servant leader isn’t weak, they’re meek. And meekness is strength under the reins of grace.
3. It’s Not Leadership by Abdication
Sometimes, in a misguided attempt to “let others lead,” we confuse abdication for humility. But stepping back isn’t always noble. There are moments when backing down is a betrayal of calling.
Servant leadership doesn’t mean being absent, it means being faithfully present. It means leading when no one else will, especially when it’s costly. It means taking responsibility when things go wrong, owning the mission, and standing between the sheep and the wolves.
To serve is not to vanish into the background; it is to be the first to the breach and the last to leave the field. It’s presence in the trenches, not posture on the stage.
Servants don’t disappear, they draw near. They don’t abandon the flock, they anchor it.
Leadership requires action. Servant leadership requires even more because it demands sacrificial action, even when it’s unseen or unappreciated.
4. It’s Not the Same as Being Nice
We touched on this a bit under point #2, but I think this truth demands its own discussion. “Be nice” is something that has been grilled into us since we were all children. And niceness is nice, but it can often be just a pleasant mask for passivity. Niceness is safe. It’s non-confrontational. It keeps the peace, even if it costs the truth.
But Jesus was not merely “nice.” He was good. And goodness sometimes disrupts the comfortable. It breaks social rules for the sake of mercy. It offends the self-righteous. It overturns tables in temples of injustice.
Niceness avoids. Servant leadership engages. Niceness is cosmetic. Servant leadership is cruciform. Being nice doesn’t require personal crosses, but being a servant does.
We need leaders who are kind but courageous. Gentle, yet grounded. Willing to confront injustice with tears in their eyes and resolve in their bones. Leaders who carry the aroma of grace, not the scent of compromise.
So let’s clear the stage. Let’s cast down the illusions of leadership dressed up for the camera, the passive saints who mistake silence for grace, the polished exteriors hiding self-promotion, the people-pleasers who call it love.
What Servant Leadership Truly Is
Once the counterfeits are cleared away, what remains is something raw, radiant, and remarkably rare: a vision of leadership that stoops, suffers, and saves. Not through dominance, but through devotion. Not by force, but by faithfulness.
Servant leadership is not a style, it’s a surrender. It is not a strategy, but the shape of a life bent low, hands open, shoulders bearing burdens not their own. And at its center is not a throne, but a basin and a towel.
1. It Begins with Identity, Not Insecurity
In John 13, we are told something stunning before Jesus washes the disciples’ feet: “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God…” (John 13:3)
That line matters. It wasn’t in spite of His divine identity that Jesus stooped to serve—it was because of it.
Only someone utterly secure in who they are can afford to go that low.
Servant leadership begins not with proving yourself, but with who you are, and more importantly with knowing whose you are. If we try to serve from insecurity, we’ll end up needing affirmation from those we serve. But when our identity is rooted in Christ, we don’t need anything from others. Instead, we are free to give everything for them.
The insecure use people to build their kingdom. The servant leader gives up their kingdom to build others.
2. It Bears What Others Cannot Carry
When the night is darkest, the servant leader doesn’t look for the exit. They look for the weight that needs lifting. Think of Moses interceding on a mountain while Israel battled below. Think of Paul saying, “I endure everything for the sake of the elect.” Think of Christ, bearing a cross no one else could carry.
This is the heart of servant leadership: carrying burdens that don’t belong to you out of love for those who can’t carry them themselves.
The true servant leads by bleeding. They take the hit. They feel the cost. And they keep walking forward for someone else’s sake.
Leadership is not the privilege to be served, rather, it is the call to suffer for others’ good.
3. It Embraces Sacrifice as Strategy
The world teaches leaders to avoid pain. Scripture teaches them to expect it.
From beginning to end, biblical leadership is marked not by comfort but by cost. Abraham left everything. David ran from caves. Jeremiah wept in prison. Paul was beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, and still said, “Follow me as I follow Christ.”
And Christ? He led with thorns in His brow and nails in His hands.
This is not weakness. This is power perfected in weakness.
Servant leadership doesn’t calculate what it can keep. Instead, it offers all it has. It doesn’t ask, “What do I gain?” but “Whom can I love?”
Where the world builds empires, the servant leader builds altars. Where the world collects followers, the servant leader lays down their life.
4. It Elevates Others With No Agenda
One of the clearest marks of a servant leader is this: they lift others without needing anything in return. Their joy is not in being seen, but in seeing others flourish. Their reward is not applause, but transformation.
They rejoice when others surpass them. They celebrate when others shine brighter. They work not to be known, but so others may be known, especially the overlooked, the forgotten, and the voiceless.
Servant leadership sees people not as tools, but as treasures.
The goal is not to climb over others, but to raise them. Not to be honored, but to honor. This is why servant leaders are rare because their work often goes unseen. Nevertheless, it is never unnoticed by God.
5. It Ultimately Looks Like Christ
All of this—every thread above—leads to one pattern: Jesus. He is the Servant King, the Good Shepherd, the Suffering Savior.
He didn’t come to be served, but to serve. And not just with words or gestures, but with sweat, tears, and blood. Philippians 2 says it plainly: “He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant… He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
If you want to lead like Christ, you must stoop like Christ. You must suffer like Christ. You must love like Christ: unconditionally, relentlessly, redemptively.
The greatest leader the world has ever known wore no crown but thorns, carried no sword but a cross, and conquered not by force but by forgiveness. Servant leadership is nothing less than Christlikeness in motion.
This is the shape of real leadership. Not loud, but lasting. Not driven by ego, but forged in humility. Not seeking followers, but forming them.
We now live in a time when trust in leaders is frayed, if not shattered. The world is hungry for something more, for someone who leads not for gain, but for good.
What if you are called to be that someone?
Why This Matters More Than Ever
The world is not starving for more leaders. It is choking on them.
We are awash in influencers, experts, and so-called authorities. There are no shortage of loud voices with polished profiles, promising impact while quietly preserving their own image. Every day, another platform is built. Another headline disappoints. Another leader is exposed, not because they lacked charisma, but because they lacked character.
We are living through a crisis of credibility, not competence.
This is why servant leadership is not just admirable, it is urgent. It’s not a niche virtue for saints or soft-spoken souls. It’s the only kind of leadership that can restore trust in a burned-out world.
For decades, leadership was defined by production: show results, drive success, expand the mission. People followed those who delivered. But somewhere along the way, we began confusing impact with integrity. We’ve seen where that road leads: burned-out teams, toxic cultures, hollow movements.
We need a leadership that doesn’t perform for the crowd, but weeps with the broken. One that doesn’t outsource empathy or delegate responsibility, but bears the weight, quietly and faithfully.
In a world tired of being impressed, people are desperate to be known, protected, and loved. They don’t need more bosses. They need shepherds.
Let’s not pretend this is just a problem “out there.” Some of the deepest wounds have been inflicted not by worldly leaders but by those in pulpits, pews, and religious power.
When churches become empires, and pastors become celebrities, the gospel is obscured behind personality. But servant leadership is gospel-shaped. It echoes the voice of the Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine for the one, who feeds His flock instead of feeding on them, who kneels in the upper room and bleeds on the hill of skulls.
If the Church will not lead this way, who will? If we preach Christ crucified, we must embody Christ crucified, whether it is in our boardrooms, in our homes, in our barracks, or in our neighborhoods.
The towel and the cross are not props for Sunday. They are the posture of everyday faithfulness.
Friend, you don’t need a title to be a leader. You already are one.
There’s someone who’s watching how you respond under pressure… how you treat those beneath you… how you speak about those above you… how you serve when no one notices.
Leadership is not just what you do, it’s what you become. And you are becoming something every day. So what kind of leader are you becoming?
Will your children one day say, “My father led with gentleness and strength?”
Will your friends say, “She lifted others higher than herself?”
Will your Soldiers, Subordinates, or Employees say, “That was someone worth following?”
Because in the end, the greatest measure of leadership is not how many obeyed you. It is about how many you made whole.
This is bigger than culture. Bigger than careers. Bigger than credibility. This is about the Kingdom.
The world changes not when power is seized, but when pride is surrendered. The Kingdom of God advances not by force but by foot-washing. Not by platform but by presence. Not with swords, but with towels and crosses.
Every time a leader chooses humility over hype, sacrifice over self, love over leverage…the Kingdom draws closer. Every time someone walks away from acclaim to care for the least, the unseen, the unthanked…eternity trembles.
And this, friend, is the call:
To be different. To lead different. To follow the Servant King into the fields of a weary world and say, “I am here to serve. I am here to love. I am here to bleed, if need be.”
This is how the glory of resurrection life and power comes. First by dying.
A Closing Reflection
Servant leadership is not about being perfect. It’s about being faithful. It’s not about knowing all the answers. It’s about being willing to go lower, to love longer, and to lead with hands that heal instead of control.
We live in a world that’s deeply tired—tired of performance, tired of pride, tired of leaders who take more than they give. And maybe, if we’re honest, we’re tired too—tired of trying to be impressive, tired of measuring ourselves by the world’s standards, tired of wondering if we’re enough.
But the good news is this: we don’t have to lead like the world does. We can follow Jesus.
We can pick up the towel instead of the spotlight. We can choose presence over posturing, faithfulness over fame, the slow work of love over the quick fix of control.
And when we do, something changes.
In our homes, in our workplaces, in our churches, in our friendships—quietly, steadily, the Kingdom breaks in. Not with noise, but with grace. Not with glory, but with goodness.
So wherever you are, however you lead: Start small, lead well, and love deep.
You don’t need to be great in the eyes of the world. Just be faithful in the shape of a cross. Let Christ, the Servant King, be seen through you. In doing so, you will inspire and influence in ways far beyond anything you can possibly imagine.