Jesus Chose the Servant's Role

I have kids, which means I regularly witness a very specific phenomenon. The trash will be overflowing. The dishwasher will be clean and ready to be unloaded. There will be, somehow, a single piece of trash sitting on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, and everyone just… moves around it. They see it. They know it needs to be taken care of. They are fully capable of doing it. But instead, they step over it, push the trash down a little more, grab a clean dish without unloading the dishwasher. Their commitment to not doing is honestly kind of impressive. The more I read this passage, the more I realize—I do the exact same thing.

When the disciples sat down for that meal, the setup was obvious. The water wasn’t there, and the task was clear. Everyone in the room knew exactly what should happen next—but no one moved. This wasn’t confusion or a lack of information. It was hesitation.

We tend to think the biggest barrier to growth is knowledge. If we just learned more, understood more, listened to the next audiobook, or dialed in a better routine, we would do better. But most of us are not lacking clarity. We are carrying around a long list of things we already know to do. We know we need to reach out. We know we need to apologize. We know when someone needs help. We know when something in us needs to change. Awareness is not usually the problem. Movement is.

So what stops us? Sometimes it is status—”this feels beneath me”. Sometimes it is awkwardness—”what will people think if I do that”? Sometimes it is straight up bystander apathy—”someone else will take care of it”. Sometimes it is the quiet hope that if we wait long enough, the moment will just pass. The disciples were not bad people, and they were not selfish in some obvious way. They just hesitated.

Jesus doesn’t pause to give another teaching. He doesn’t say, “Let me explain servanthood one more time.” He simply gets up. He takes the role no one wanted–the same one that felt beneath them, awkward, and avoidable. In doing so, he exposes something uncomfortable: it is possible to be close to Jesus, to KNOW what matters, and still not move.

Obedience is often a little disruptive. It interrupts our rhythm, feels socially off, and requires someone to go first–which is probably why we do not.

Everyone in the room knew what needed to be done. Jesus just refused to leave it undone. Maybe that is the invitation for us, too—not to know more, but to finally move on what we already know. So here’s the question I don’t want to rush past: Where am I hesitating, even though I already know what love requires of me? Where am I waiting, when I already know?