I remember it so well, like it was yesterday. I was part of a cricket tournament. My enthusiasm knew no bounds. I kept running for every ball and every hit. I felt like I could run all day.
Then one of the leaders stopped me and said something that embarrassed me in the moment and has left a mark on me to this day: “There is no need to serve other people; it is not respectable.”
In India, we are addicted to respectability. Very early in life, we learn it is better to be served than to serve. We look up to those who are visibly shown respect. People stand up when they walk into a room. People carry their bags. Someone is always waiting nearby, ready to serve their every need. No wonder one of the most common things a child hears growing up is: log kya kahenge (what will people say)?
Sadly, we see the same reality play out in our Indian church culture. The church often builds its entire discipleship structure around the pursuit of this kind of respect. The people who are served are considered greater. Success means finally reaching a place where others do things for you.
I want to affirm that it is important to give honour and respect where it is due (Rom. 13:7). Scripture calls us to honour our parents, our elders, and those mature in the faith (Eph. 6:1-3; Lev. 19:32; 1 Tim. 5:1-2; 1 Thess. 5:12-13). But this gets tricky when respect is demanded based on position or on keeping up appearances.
When Respect Becomes the Goal
If I am honest, I am also addicted to respectability. I want to be seen as a responsible leader in the church: with a good education, a good job, a good marriage, respectable children, and leading a respectable Christian life. This subtle but real shift in thinking can dramatically affect our community. Intentionally or unintentionally, it can create a culture where we end up discipling people toward respectability rather than holiness.
Here are some practical ways this shows up, especially for those of us in leadership.
- When our children throw a tantrum in public, are we more concerned about their hearts or about how this will reflect on us? Are we longing for our children to experience more of Jesus through their struggles—or are we wrestling with this thought: I am a leader in this community, and if my children don’t behave, that reflects on me.
- In our church gatherings, are we concerned about where we sit or who gets to speak first? Do we feel slighted when we are not acknowledged at a gathering, a wedding, or a prayer meeting? I wonder how often we speak more than we need to simply because this battle is playing out in our hearts.
- When a conflict arises with someone in the community, are we willing to truly humble ourselves and acknowledge what we have done? Or do we think: If they see my weakness, they’ll stop respecting me?
I have lost count of how many times a leader, even a senior pastor, has confided in me about a personal struggle with sin. They felt they could not share with anyone in their community because they feared losing respect and reputation if people ever found out.
So, we resort to keeping up appearances. We maintain the status quo. We smile our way through fellowship after Sunday service. As long as people think we are doing well, we start to believe we are too.
When Jesus Picks Up the Towel
The disciples in the upper room were caught in the same trap (John 13). In the first century, people walked everywhere. Roads were dusty, open drains ran through the streets, and most people wore sandals. By the time you arrived at someone’s house, your feet were filthy.
It was customary to wash feet before a meal, but that task belonged to the lowest servant in the household. Jewish servants were often exempt from washing feet. It was considered too degrading, so it usually fell to a Gentile slave.
Imagine the scene. The disciples enter the room. They all know their feet need washing. But no one volunteers; everyone is protecting their status. Luke tells us that around the same time, they were still arguing about who among them was the greatest (Luke 22:24-30). The last thing someone who wants to be “the greatest” does is pick up a towel.
Then Jesus stands and takes the towel. The One who made all things (John 1:3). The One who knows the Father has put all things under his power (John 13:3). He does not use his authority to demand service; he uses it to serve (Matt. 20:28).
Can you imagine how uncomfortable that must have been? One by one, the creator of the universe takes into his hands the dirty feet of fishermen, tax collectors, zealots, doubters, and eventually, Judas himself (John 13:5). The hands that flung stars into space now wash dirt from human feet.
When Servanthood Is Real Respectability
In our contexts, we instinctively know who serves whom. Who sits at the head of the table, who travels business class, and who has someone to carry their bags. In many of our homes, someone cooks, someone cleans, someone serves the tea, and we rarely confuse the roles.
Imagine the chairman of a company quietly cleaning the office toilets before everyone arrives for work. A High Court judge stopping to polish the shoes of the lawyers appearing before her. The CEO serving lunch in the company cafeteria while everyone else sits down to eat. It feels wrong because people with power do not move downward. They expect others to move upward toward them.
That is the same discomfort Peter must have felt when Jesus reached for his feet (John 13:8). It is not just that the disciples had never seen anything like it. It is that everything in them knew it was not respectable. Which is why Jesus did it.
The Gospel and Respectability
Jesus is not just modelling humility for us to imitate. He shows us what his own worth was built on, and it was not status. He does not kneel to earn honour; he already has all of it, permanently (Col. 1:15-17). Jesus is secure in his identity (John 13:3). That is exactly what frees him to serve.
It is good news for the rest of us addicted to respectability. Our worth does not come from climbing (Matt. 20:25-27). We are already fully known and fully loved in Jesus (John 15:9). We do not need anyone’s hierarchy to tell us who we are (1 John 3:1).
Every one of us is being discipled in one direction or the other. So the question is worth sitting with: are we protecting our respectability? Or are we secure in our standing in Jesus, and therefore free to serve others wholeheartedly?
