The Leadership Equation

For the previous nine years Scott had been the best quarterback for his age that anyone had ever seen. He was gifted like none other, and as far as his dad and his coaches were concerned, the sky was the limit. By the time he was a sophomore in high school, newspaper write-ups appeared twice a week in the local paper. Even before his senior year began, every major college powerhouse wanted Scott on their team. One college scout assessed Scott this way: “It isn’t just that he is an awesome physical specimen. It isn’t just that he has a cannon for an arm. What makes him so special is that he is the ultimate leader.”

He made his college choice. It was time to fulfill all the expectations that had been set for him. Scott had waited all of his life for this opportunity, and now it was here. The ultimate leader was about to throw the very first pass of his college career. The offensive tackle never saw the outside linebacker blitz around the left side. Unfortunately neither did Scott. He had never felt anything quite like the pain that shot through his knee when it buckled awkwardly. It was beyond repair. Scott would never play football again.

His heart was broken, but because he loved the game so much he was willing to do anything to stay near it. So the school let him keep his scholarship and he became a team manager. His duties varied, but basically he kept up the equipment and picked up dirty towels, uniforms and athletic supporters and washed them. Scott embraced his new position with an unexpected vigor. He seemed to savor every opportunity to be in the locker room or on the sidelines, even though his tasks were considered lowly. A local newspaper reported that one of Scott’s ex-teammates commented with tears in his eyes that the school’s gridiron messiah had become the team slave boy. When told of this, Scott said with a smile, “Please don’t be sad for me. I love this game and I love this team. I consider it an honor to serve them.”

In sports, it isn’t hard to believe that a knee injury could take a person from field general to towel boy. The world has a narrow view of what effective leadership looks like. This story, as sad as it is, really isn’t uncommon. There is a similar story about Jesus in John 13.

The setting was an intimate dinner with friends, not unusual since Jesus and his disciples spent a majority of their time together. But unknown to the disciples, this would be an evening unlike any other, for this was to be their last meal with Jesus before his arrest and eventual death. John 13:1 tells us that Jesus knew what was coming. So now it was time to show them the full extent of his love.

The Son of God was about to engage in the ultimate act of love. What spectacular thing was he about to do? Throughout his life, Jesus was a perfect example of God’s grace and wisdom. He performed astonishing miracles and even raised one of his friends from the dead. The most violent demons were so afraid of him that they obeyed his commands. He had a fascinating rapport with all kinds of people. He could talk with anyone, whether they be an invalid beggar, a sinful prostitute or a highly regarded religious official. He was the best storyteller and teacher. And his courage and fearlessness were unmatched. He was, in fact, the ultimate leader.

To show the fullness of his love was going to be something to see! Would he give each of them whatever they asked for? Or perhaps heal each of them of all their ailments while instilling in them all-knowing wisdom? Or maybe he would call the Father to come down to reveal himself in all of his glory. With Jesus the possibilities were limitless.

In verses 4 and 5 we see this act of love. Imagine all eyes on Jesus as he rose from the dinner table. He removed his clothes and put a towel around his waist. The disciples must have been wondering what Jesus was about to do—this was not his typical after-dinner behavior. He then poured water into a basin and knelt down to do the unthinkable—to wash his friends’ feet! The disciples’ curiosity turned to disbelief.

It was a slave’s job to wash feet; this was not a job for their Lord and teacher! As God, Jesus had every right to keep his place at the table. But he gave up that right, and now he was kneeling, cleaning their tired and dirty feet. Jesus humbled himself, but not because a football knee injury did him in. He humbled himself while he was still Lord, while he still had every right not to. In verses 7–17, Jesus explains that this was more than a lesson in orthopedic hygiene. This was an example of love for us to follow.

A pastor friend of mine was speaking on this very passage one Sunday. He called this foot washing an act of courage. At the time I was uncertain about what he meant. It takes courage to be a servant? But as I studied the passage and the rest of the book of John, I began to understand. Jesus performed an absurd act of love not just at the feet of his disciples, but also on the cross. That took courage. It is important to notice three truths that gave Jesus the courage to serve so freely: Jesus knew who God is, he knew God loved him, and he knew his purpose in life.

1. Jesus knew who God is. A few years ago one of the young women in my InterVarsity chapter came to me in frustration. Her voice was shaking as she spoke. “I’m not sure what I believe about God,” she said. Her eyes began to tear as she continued, “I mean, I know about his characteristics—that he is holy and loving and so on, but if I really believe that he is all that he says he is in Scripture, then why am I so afraid all the time?” She dropped her head in a shamed silence. By the time she looked back up at me she was weeping. “If I trusted him more, I could lay my fears and cares at his feet. I would then be free to take risks and to love people.” That conversation was engraved on my heart because of the way I was humbled that day.

Jesus walked the earth sure of the fact that God was the food for any hunger, refreshment for any thirst, and the ointment for the deepest heart wound. Jesus knew the Father’s heart, what he loved and what he hated. He was full of the Father.

2. Jesus knew his place in the Father’s heart. On the day Jesus carried the cross on his beaten and bruised shoulder, the crowds hurled insults at him and spat at him. He had been betrayed by a close friend, and abandoned by the very men he had poured his life into. But one thing he was sure of—he was deeply loved by his heavenly Father. He was keenly aware that nothing could alter God’s love for him. This was a perfect love without end.

Every Tuesday morning for a year I met with a student named Heather. I don’t think I have ever known anyone with so much anger. Every week she came in mad as a hornet at someone or something. As the weeks went on, I began to discover that Heather disliked herself more than anyone. Gradually she dropped her protective walls, and I began to see her less as an angry woman with a chip on her shoulder and more as one wounded by the people who were supposed to be encouraging her. As a little girl she was painfully bitten by words of abuse hurled at her by her parents. Words like “Can’t you do anything right?” “You will never amount to anything,” and “Your father and I will really begin to enjoy life when you leave the house.” She grew up believing that the things her parents said about her were true. She believed with all of her heart that she was unloved because she was unlovable.

One day I asked her to tell me what she knew of how her parents grew up. It turned out that both of them grew up in very abusive environments. It began to make sense to her that her parents’ perception and treatment of her were dictated by their own tragic experiences as children. Then for the rest of the school year we explored God’s heart for her in Scripture. Her heart was changed as she discovered that God lovingly created her. Who would know her better than he? I remember her tears of joy as she realized that she was his daughter, and that this perfect and complete love could not be altered by her actions.

3. Jesus knew where he came from and where he was going. He was well aware that he was sent to live among us for a purpose. Part of that purpose was to die, and he knew his death was soon to come. But he also knew that he would conquer death and return to the Father and accomplish healing for our relationship with God.

My friend Mark said to me recently, “Sometimes I totally forget that our side wins!” God will be victorious in the end and we will live forever with him. That truth can free us to love fearlessly.

The Leadership Equation

Jesus finished this humble task of foot washing, put his clothes back on and took his place again at the dinner table. All eyes were on him, ears listening intently to what he would say after this unusual display. He was now back in a familiar place, as teacher and Lord. But he told them he was their teacher and Lord even as he was washing the sand and dirt from their feet. Then he gave them a command that rubbed against their nature: “Do as I have done.”

These disciples were to be the first church leaders, yet Jesus told them to be servants. Shouldn’t he have commanded them to work hard so that everything would get done and this church development thing would go well, or told them to brush up on Scripture study to be good teachers? To these men, leadership had meant arguing over who was the greatest, or who got to sit next to God. The equation leadership equals servanthood was not something the disciples naturally grasped. And we don’t find it any easier to grasp today.

Even in the Christian community, many leaders see their position simply as a place of power and prestige, or as a role to accomplish a program, or simply as a job description with a list of tasks to check off. It seems easier that way. We know what needs to be done so we do it, and then we go home and take care of the other things in our lives. But God’s view is much deeper. Our primary role is to represent his kingdom, and his kingdom is made up of a wide diversity of people. Being a godly leader of people means facing real hurts and real needs. Some people will be easy to care for. Others will be difficult to love. Sometimes we’ll be called to sacrifice doing what we want to do when we want to do it. Leadership—by God’s definition of servanthood—can get pretty messy.

During my freshmen year of college I remember being in awe of the student leaders in my InterVarsity chapter. They were popular, and so very cool. I knew that someday I just had to be one of them. That someday came the very next year, when I was asked to be a small-group leader. I pretended that I would pray about it, but in my heart I was thinking, where do I sign up? My co-leader, Jeff, and I decided that we would be the greatest small-group leaders in modern history, even though we didn’t know what exactly we were supposed to be doing. Being the witty and cool young men that we were, we were able to attract a multitude to our first couple of meetings. We told them we wanted them to enjoy their best-ever small-group experience, and that we, as their lovable leaders, would always be at their disposal. At first things were light and easy. We were having a great time and making lots of friends. Jeff and I would get together for an hour and a half each week to pray, prepare for the meeting and call each member. Being a leader was a piece of cake.

But that was just the first two weeks. Then came the overload of exams, papers and projects. By October, I realized that if I were to have enough money for tuition for the spring semester, I would have to pick up full-time hours at work. But the real problem was that some of my small group members believed me when I said that I would be at their disposal. Especially Tina.

Tina was a freshmen who had just spent a year suffering from clinical depression. She was quiet, soft spoken and quite needy. All she wanted was for me to hang out with her and listen to what was on her heart. I began to see Tina as an inconvenience and would go out of my way to avoid her. By November, every day was packed with classes and work, and I was still trying to squeeze in time for my friends. I always felt rushed and panicked. The only healthy thing to do was to quit being a small-group leader.

On the way to tell my staff worker, I rehearsed how I would drop the bomb on him. Surely he would see why I had to quit. And surely God would want me to quit so I wouldn’t be so stressed. How could he argue with that? My solution was obvious.

What I thought would be an easy 15-minute conversation ended up being a two-hour lesson in humility. I saw that in taking on the role of a leader, I’d mostly wanted the perks of popularity that came with it. God was calling me to be a servant. God wanted me to touch the lives of this group of people whom he claimed as his children.

I continued to be a small-group leader, but there were some things on my plate that I had to drop. Caring for the people God had put into my life was not one of them. As God shaped my heart that year, I also watched him meet my needs—the ones I had been so worried about earlier. One blessing in particular was my friendship with Tina. I had the privilege of watching her blossom into an incredible woman of God.

Stepping Out—Toward People

The next school year I saw an example of servant leadership that I’ll never forget. I was in a small group led by a student named Amy. She was one of the most gifted leaders I had ever known. She was a strong woman with a sweet spirit and a heart for people. One evening our small group decided to have dinner together in the campus dining hall. All of us had gotten our food and were sitting together at a table—except for Amy. She was last because she always stopped to talk to each of the older women who worked in the dining hall to find out how they were doing. That was Amy, and we were used to her.

I had saved her a place right in front of me, and eventually she came out and walked toward me. All of a sudden she looked over to her left and stopped dead in her tracks. I turned to see where she was looking and saw The Loner. That was what we called her; none of us had bothered to learn her real name. She was a strange young woman. Her skin was pale, not a smooth, pretty, milky skin, but an unhealthy-looking color with lots of red blemishes. She had an overbite and tobacco stains on her teeth. Her hair was jet black, greasy, unkempt and so fine her scalp showed through. She was tall and bony. And always alone. I had never seen her with anyone before, and I had never heard her speak. She would walk through campus clutching her book bag up against her chest, looking down at her feet. I had never even seen her hold her head up. She seemed to be the saddest person on campus.

I watched Amy as she stood there. She looked over at us and then looked back at The Loner who, like always, was eating alone. Then Amy moved forward. Not toward me, but straight toward The Loner. This was absurd!—and I was intrigued. I had to watch, and what I saw changed me forever.

Amy laid her tray down on the table in front of The Loner and asked if she could sit with her. The Loner nodded her head without looking up. For the first ten minutes, Amy—just being Amy—talked a mile a minute without any acknowledgement from her dinner partner. All of a sudden Amy reached over and softly put her hand on top of The Loner’s bony, pale hand. For the first time, she looked up at Amy, and I will never forget the look of tearful joy on her face. A healthy pink color appeared out of nowhere and filled her cheeks. I remember wondering, has she ever been touched so gently?

The Loner gained her first college friendship that day. In the following years, Amy continued to be committed to that friendship, even though it was a painful and difficult one. Amy told me later that she had felt God calling her to that table, and that she had obeyed even though she didn’t want to go. Because Amy was obedient, we learned that The Loner had a name, Patricia. And she became our friend too.

Amy had every right to sit with her small group of friends for a casual dinner, but she gave up that right to wash the feet of a hopeless young woman. Patricia found hope in Christ two months later.

The Equation Question

As you consider your leadership position, think of what God is calling you to. Think of Scott and how he chose to serve for the love of his team and his sport. Think of Amy’s example of touching the heart of a sad, lost woman. Think of our Lord Jesus on his knees washing the grit off the feet of his friends. For in these vignettes you will find the true picture of leadership. Will you merely wear the badge of “leader”? Or will you choose to live by the results of the equation: leadership equals servanthood?

Ray Crompton has worked with students as an InterVarsity campus staff member for ten years. For nine of those years he has served students at Elon College in North Carolina. Ray is hoping to write a book on servant leadership.