Sent to Serve

Sent

A few years ago, a small-town newspaper ran a story about a manufacturing plant that had been struggling to meet deadlines. The company’s new CEO decided to visit the plant unannounced. The workers didn’t recognize him—he wasn’t in a suit or tie. He showed up in jeans and a faded baseball cap, quietly walking the floor, asking questions, and listening.

At one point, he noticed a pile of debris left near a machine. Instead of calling for maintenance, he grabbed a broom and started sweeping. The employees froze—no one knew who this man was, but they could tell he wasn’t there to make a scene.

Word spread quickly: “The new boss is cleaning the floor.” That one simple act changed the tone of the entire company. Morale lifted. Departments started cooperating. Not because of an email or a policy change—but because the one in charge showed what leadership really looks like.

A few weeks later, when the CEO revealed who he was, the same workers who once avoided management now lined up to shake his hand. Why? Because he didn’t just talk about teamwork—he embodied it.

Spiritual Connection

That’s a glimpse of what Jesus did in John 13. The disciples called Him Teacher and Lord, yet He got down on His knees, grabbed a towel, and washed their feet. And Paul tells us in Philippians 2 that this same Jesus—though being in very nature God—did not cling to His status, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant.

The world says influence comes from power, position, and prestige. But in God’s Kingdom, true greatness begins with a towel, not a title.

The Mission on the Ground

What does that mission actually look like on the ground? How are we supposed to live out this calling in the world? The world has a loud opinion about what it takes to make a difference. It says, “If you want to matter—get power. If you want to be respected—get status. If you want to be noticed—get ahead.” Climb the ladder. Grab the spotlight. Make your mark. And before we know it, that voice becomes the rhythm we live by. We start to measure our worth by titles, likes, promotions, and applause.

But Jesus speaks into that noise with a completely different rhythm—one that sounds almost upside down: “If you want to lead, take the lowest place. If you want to influence, serve.” (John 13:14)

In John 13, we see this not as a theory but as a living picture. The disciples had gathered for dinner, their feet dusty from the road. No one had volunteered to do the menial task of washing feet—it was beneath them. But then, in a moment that must have left the room silent, Jesus stood up. The One they called “Lord” took off His outer garment, knelt down, and began to wash the grime off their feet.

He didn’t just teach humility with words—He embodied it. He showed them, and He shows us, that true influence in God’s Kingdom doesn’t come from position or prestige. It comes from servanthood. It flows from love that’s willing to stoop. When Jesus finished, He asked a simple but piercing question:

“Do you understand what I have done for you?” (John 13:12)

That’s the question we have to sit with today. Because being sent by Jesus isn’t about carrying a title—it’s about carrying a towel.

This week, we’re going to explore what it means to be sent not just to act for Jesus, but to adopt His posture—the posture of a servant. To let humility, love, and service shape how we engage with the world, even when it’s inconvenient, uncomfortable, or unseen.

So let’s begin here: If Jesus sent you into your home, your workplace, your school, or your community this week, what would serving look like? Who would you bend down to help? Where could you put others first—not to be seen, but to show Him? Because sometimes the most powerful way to show the world who Jesus is…is by doing what no one else is willing to do.

Jesus Redefines Greatness

The Teacher’s Bible Commentary Into the Shadow (John 13:1–38)

Contrary to what one might expect, the supper did not begin in a quiet mood of devotion. To understand the disciples’ frame of mind is the only way to know what happened.

Jesus rose to wash their feet because they were angry with one another (v. 4). A bitter debate had arisen among them because of pride (

The Teacher’s Bible Commentary Into the Shadow (John 13:1–38)

Great attention to detail is given to the scenes in the upper room and the hours that follow—five chapters. No other event in the Gospels receives so much treatment. The intimate experiences of the last supper were not shared by the public. The curtain has closed, and only his willing followers receive the purifying and strengthening for the end.

You can almost hear Peter insisting, “I walked on water.” John reminding everyone, “I’m the one He loves.” The tension would have been palpable—friends, partners in ministry, still thinking that influence and respect are earned by status, not service. And in that moment, Jesus quietly stands. He takes off His outer garment, wraps a towel around His waist, and fills a basin with water. Then, without a word, He kneels.

The sound of water splashing against rough feet must have stunned the room. No one spoke. No one moved. Because this wasn’t a job for a rabbi or a leader—this was work reserved for the lowest servant in the house. Feet were filthy from dirt roads and open sandals. Yet here is their Lord—the One who commands storms and casts out demons—doing what no one else wanted to do. Jesus doesn’t just flip the script; He rewrites the definition of greatness. He shows them—and us—that in God’s Kingdom, leadership is about service, not status. Influence is about love, not position.

Mark 10:43-45 records His words plainly: “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” And Paul, reflecting on that same moment years later, drives the truth even deeper in Philippians 2:5-7: “In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus, who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage; rather, He made Himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant.”

Paul is saying, You want to look like Jesus? Then think like Him. Live like Him. Love like Him. The path to greatness doesn’t climb upward—it bends downward. So here’s the point: Greatness in God’s Kingdom isn’t measured by titles, achievements, or recognition. It’s measured by humility and love in action. It’s revealed when you bend down to meet someone’s need, when you put someone else first, when you serve quietly and sacrificially without expecting applause.

That’s the greatness that heaven notices. That’s the influence that changes hearts. So ask yourself this week: where could you step into that kind of greatness? Maybe it’s listening—really listening—to someone who feels invisible. Maybe it’s serving a family member who rarely says thank you. Maybe it’s setting aside your own agenda to lift someone else’s. Because every act of love done in obedience to Jesus ripples farther than you can see. It’s the kind of greatness that doesn’t trend on earth… but echoes in eternity.

It’s one thing to admire what Jesus did in that upper room. It’s another thing to live it out in our own. Let’s be honest—it’s easier to serve when people notice. It’s easier to love when it’s appreciated. It’s easier to humble ourselves when we get something in return. But that’s not the kind of servanthood Jesus modeled.

He washed the feet of men who would abandon Him. He served Judas—knowing full well that betrayal was only moments away. He loved those who didn’t yet understand Him. That’s the kind of humility Philippians 2 describes—not a posture of weakness, but of strength under surrender. Jesus wasn’t forced to serve; He chose to. And that choice revealed more power than any throne ever could.

When Paul says, “Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus,” he’s not just calling us to think humble thoughts. He’s calling us to live a humble rhythm—to walk into every room asking, “How can I bring Christ’s love here?” “How can I lift someone else up today?”

Because when you start seeing yourself as “sent,” you begin to notice opportunities everywhere. You realize that servanthood isn’t confined to the church building or a Sunday schedule—it’s lived out in kitchens, classrooms, offices, checkout lines, and hospital rooms.

It’s the nurse who stays late to comfort a patient no one else sees. It’s the grandparent who quietly prays for their family by name every morning. It’s the worker who gives their best, not for recognition, but because they want their excellence to point to Christ. It’s the teenager who sits with someone alone at lunch.

And here’s the beauty of it: when you serve like that—when you stoop to wash another’s feet metaphorically—you start to see what Jesus saw. You see that the Kingdom isn’t built by big moments; it’s built by small acts of faithfulness that no one else may ever notice.

But here’s where this message starts to turn—because there’s something we often overlook in this story. Yes, Jesus calls us to serve others. Yes, He tells us to follow His example. But the twist is this: we can’t do it on our own. The humility Jesus modeled isn’t something we manufacture; it’s something He forms within us. The towel and the basin aren’t just tools we pick up—they’re symbols of what happens when the Spirit of Christ lives through us.

The same Jesus who knelt before His disciples now kneels in our hearts—transforming pride into compassion, selfishness into service, and comfort into calling. That’s where we’re headed next. Because being “sent” doesn’t just mean doing what Jesus did—it means letting Him keep doing it through you.

The Basin Is Still in His Hands

When we started today, I told the story of a CEO who changed his company not by giving orders, but by picking up a broom. That image stuck with people because it wasn’t what anyone expected from someone in charge. But that’s exactly what makes it powerful.

Now think about this—Jesus didn’t just pick up a broom. He picked up a towel. He didn’t come to command from above; He came to kneel down below. And the night He washed those feet, He wasn’t just giving His disciples a lesson in humility—He was giving them a picture of His heart.

That’s why He said, “Do you understand what I have done for you?” (John 13:12). Because this was more than an object lesson. It was prophecy. A preview of the Cross. When Jesus bent down with that towel, He was showing us what He would do the next day with His life. The basin became a symbol of the blood that would wash us clean. The towel became a shadow of the Cross that would wipe away our sin.

That’s the twist. We’re not just sent to serve like Him—we’re sent because He served us first. We don’t pick up the towel to prove our devotion; we pick it up because we’ve already been washed by His grace. And here’s what’s even more beautiful: The basin is still in His hands. The same Jesus who knelt before Peter still kneels before you—not in humiliation, but in love. He keeps serving, keeps cleansing, keeps shaping hearts that are willing to be used.

Every time you stoop to serve someone, every time you love without applause or give without credit—you are carrying on the ministry of the One who first stooped for you. Christ in you, washing the world through acts of unseen love.

So maybe this week, the mission isn’t to climb higher, but to kneel lower. Maybe greatness isn’t found in being noticed, but in being faithful. Maybe the most Christlike thing you can do…is to pick up a towel.

Because in the Kingdom of God, the hands that serve are the ones that shine the brightest. And the people who look most like Jesus—are the ones still willing to kneel.