Servant: The Naked Noun

Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.

- Philippians 2.6-7

The psychologists tell us that a person can view power in a couple of ways: as freedom, or as responsibility. When those two roads diverge, one must choose a path, and that choice makes all the difference. View power as personal freedom, and you are on the trail to tyranny. View it as a responsibility to care for others, and become a source of life.

In his famous and culture-forming book Servant Leadership, Robert K. Greenleaf coopted Christ to his cause and it has since been a commonplace to refer to Jesus as a "servant-leader." I disagree: When service becomes an adjective dressed in the livery of leadership it sacrifices its essential character and prostitutes itself as one more means to the true end. Jesus wasn't a servant-leader; Jesus was a servant. He did not serve to gain power; he used whatever power he had in order to serve.

Studies reveal several important facets of service as the proper expression of power. Jesus hits all the markers. 

For instance, pondering the proper use of power makes one more likely to use it well. That is why Paul admonishes us to "let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus," then steers our meditations directly to the cross. Jesus did not go to Calvary despite his status as God but because of it. The cross is not something God allowed; the cross shows us who God is.

Another for-instance: A boss who abandons the corner office to hang out with subordinates grows more responsible and more responsive. Jesus was born in human likeness. As Eugene Peterson phrases it in one of the shining glories of The Message: The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. (John 1.14) If a heavenly detective squad ever dusts the glorified Christ for fingerprints, they'll find ours all over him. (1 John 1.1)

To take yet another example, identifying with followers makes leaders more compassionate. Jesus did not come to earth in disguise, as God dressed in a man-suit, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave. In Greek, the word form is the same as one Paul uses in to describe Jesus as possessing the form of God. This is incarnation, not impersonation. Jesus did not keep one foot firmly planted in glory but emptied himself of all divine privilege. He rebuked sin as one who battled sin, one who went mano-a-humano with Satan in the trans-Jordanian wilderness and was at all points tempted, the King James Version's happy rendering of the Greek perfect tense: well and truly tempted in every possible way. 

One last note: Leaders abandon responsibility and fall back on freedom when someone threatens their power. But Jesus humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death - even death on a cross. In Gethsemane he refused to sign the executive order that would have called in an angelic airstrike to execute a scorched-earth policy against the earthly usurpers of divine prerogative. (Mt 26.53) Jesus remained a servant when people threatened his power because he had no power for them to threaten: He'd already laid it down.

Servant-leadership is a manmade masquerade; service is a divine mandate. Jesus did not come as an undercover boss; he came as a slave with nowhere to take cover. Let the same mind be in you which was in Christ Jesus. 

For more information on this topic, see When Power Makes Leaders More Sensitive.

Forget the Future - Enter Eternity

The younger of them said to his father, "Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me." So he divided his property between them. - Luke 15.12

Paul Brown is a lawyer, business writer, and consultant to the ridiculously wealthy. Recently, he and his wife decided to start giving chunks of their money to their grown children instead of leaving it to the kids in their will.

They had good reasons: The kids need the money now for things like mortgages, college funds for their own offspring, and business startups. They'll get the money eventually anyway, but having it now makes their lives easier. And, well - this keeps 'em from circling their aging parents like buzzards and wondering how much the will cuts them in for. Not that they would. Probably.

Brown's kids didn't let him down. Like wise little piggies, they all bought bricks: One invested in his infant son's college fund. One bought mutual funds. One made a downpayment on a house. One started the restaurant he'd carefully planned. Besides, Brown and his wife didn't empty the till; they have plenty left to live on.

That's not quite how Jesus' parable works.

The father probably wasn't terribly liquid; to meet the younger son's demand, he had to sell off land, sacrificing its future earning potential. Also, he probably had good reason to suspect the kid wasn't thinking about savings bonds or pork belly futures. Finally, instead of preventing the boy from wishing for dad's death, this action amounted to saying, "If you'll pretend you're dead, I'll pretend I'm sorry."

Of course, the miracle isn't that he let the boy go; the miracle is that he let him return. 

The older son (who had probably read all of Paul Brown's books and had signed first editions) disapproved. He reached into the pocket of his thrift store cloak and rubbed the first shekel he'd ever earned and calculated the going rate for beef on the hoof. 

Of course, the miracle isn't that he stayed outside; the miracle is that his dad begged him to come in.

The center of the story isn't the flesh pots or the pigpen, but the party. The issue isn't where we've been or what we've done but where we're going and how we're loved. The lesson isn't good sense, but a good God. The prodigal got one thing right that his big brother got wrong: The Kingdom isn't something we wait for but something we live in now. . .or not. The motto isn't "Carpe diem," but "Carpe eternity, diem by diem."

And anyway, who doesn't love a story where the firstborn isn't the good guy?

For more on this story, see Why I Am Giving My Children Their Inheritance Now

Foot Loose

Do you see those who are skillful in their work? They will serve kings; they will not serve common people. - Proverbs 22.29

The one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal. - John 1.27

Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. - John 13.5

Dr. Holly Jones, a prominent Houston rheumatologist, needed a favor. Her husband, serving in Iraq, had a problem on his base and asked her to call someone with the juice to fix it. She called Rocky Carroll. Problem solved.

Rocky Carroll wasn't on the Joint Chiefs of Staff; he didn't serve on the Senate Armed Services Committee; he wasn't a Congressman or Senator or even a DC lobbyist. He made boots in a strip-mall shop across the street from a Jiffy Lube. But he made them really, really well.

When an intruder wounded Rocky in a shootout, President George W. Bush called the hospital to check on him, and Texas Governor Rick Perry bought him a bigger gun. He made boots for seven presidents and one pope. He flew on Air Force One and spent the night in the governor's mansion in Austin. He died a month or so ago sitting in the back of his shop. He was seventy-nine.

His friend Dr. Jones explained Rocky's appeal: “You don’t have to be this all-pieced-together perfect person. He was a hodgepodge of eclectic, quirky but bright and well-meaning. There was no apology for who he was.” Rocky Carroll was skilled in his work, and he stood before kings.

John the Baptist said he was unworthy to take off Jesus' sandals, which means that he would have been honored to do so. Jesus washed twenty-four dirty feet, none of which wore custom-made cowboy boots and two of which belonged to a traitor. I bet he got them all completely clean. A Christian legend says that the sign over the carpenter shop in Nazareth read, "My yokes fit." As Martin Luther didn't say, "The Christian shoemaker does his Christian duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes."

To what has God called you today? Do it well. You will find grace in influence before the eternal throne; you will rise into the Heavens to meet the Lord of Glory; and you will dwell for eternity in the King's mansion.

For more information, see The Soul and Soles of a Texas Boot Maker

A Taxing Proposition

As he was walking along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, "Follow me."And he got up and followed him. - Mark 2.14

These are the guys who got Capone. Now they're coming for you.

Americans owe some $138 billion in back taxes and the federal government wants it. Congress has adopted a bold new strategy to gin up the shortfall: farming out collection to private agencies which work for a percentage of whatever they squeeze out of delinquent citizens. Eager to earn their twenty-five percent, these mercenaries employ such tactics as suggesting that deadbeats borrow money from their bosses, max out their plastic, or mortgage their homes.

Well, a bold strategy, perhaps, but hardly a new one.

The Roman Empire, like all wealthy regimes, never seemed to have enough money. To feed the beast of a bloated bureaucracy, they laid off the action to locals who agreed to Hoover up the fees with a generous vig tacked on for their services. They didn't much care where the money came from - only where it was going.

Levi was a low-level bagman for this first century mafia. He would have worked for a capo like Zacchaeus, with rake-offs at each level of the flow chart. As a point-of-sale collector, he was the face of oppression for a proud people who found themselves at the bottom rung of the financial food chain. To make things worse, his was a Jewish face. Respectable Jews regarded tax collectors as traitors, excommunicated them from the synagogue, and refused to accept their charitable donations.

Of course, the voice on the phone that pressures you to risk your financial future and threatens you with legal action has no visible face; but imagine if it did. Imagine that the law required a video call or a personal visit. Then imagine that you showed up in church the following Sunday and saw that face sitting in the pew beside you. When he belts out, "Blessed Be the Tie that Binds," all you can envision is a pair of handcuffs ratcheted onto your wrists. When he dumps a fistful of fifties into the offering plate, you want the gift credited to your account. So you complain to the pastor who replies, "Yeah, I invited him. But look at it this way: As long as he's in here, he can't be making any calls."

When Jesus picked Levi for his fantasy follower draft he struck against two powerful social structures: He radically undercut the righteous anger of the religious; he also destabilized the efficient systems of empire. Sure, Levi's boss had another flunky on that corner by the next day - or even sooner - but symbolically at least, Jesus did away with official oppression.

Radical Christian forgiveness strikes at the roots of all kinds of evil. It liberates the forgiven; it liberates the forgiver; and it gives birth to a larger liberty.

For more information, see I.R.S. Enlists Debt Collectors to Recover Overdue Taxes and Outside Collectors for I.R.S. Are Accused of Illegal Practices.