Servant Sergeant

When Jan and I go out to eat at a restaurant, the person greeting us at the door will lead us to the table with menus in their arms. He/she will wait for us to be seated, set the menus before us, and say something like, “Your server will be Atilla the Hun.” That greeter will then disappear to seat the next guest circling in the holding pattern. A few moments later, another restaurant employee will arrive, announcing, “I am Atilla, and I will be your server.”

Throughout the events of the last couple of weeks, I have come to ponder the word “servant.” Jan had a biopsy removed from her hairline above her right eye. It was cancerous and required a more aggressive removal of tissue. Clear margins were attained, and she was cleared for the plastic surgeon to put a permanent fix on the location. The healing got complicated fast, and we found ourselves in the hospital ICU for five days. All is progressing well now, leaving me time to reflect without trepidation. (I would call it fear and anxiety, but some well-meaning believers tell me I am not supposed to fear or be anxious.)

Two observations have caused this pondering on “servant.” The first is Jan’s nurses’ care poured out on her in the hospital. I do not know how their other patients were treated, but Jan was anointed by their servant character and skills. Even the folks from the food service department were caring and encouraging. Jan’s care felt like it was coming directly from the hand of God.

Now, I need to pop in here a truth. “Positive, caring patients will almost always be cared for by positive, caring nurses.” In all my pastoral hospital ministry, I noticed that people who were just grumpy and demanding always got similar nurses. Of course, there have been exceptions but not many.

My second observation of meditation was my own attitude. I remember talking with my dad when Mom’s mental presence had diminished, and her physical presence lagged far behind. He told me that the more he had to serve mom, the more he came to love her. Likewise, I find this principle operating with Jan. The more she needs me, the more I serve her, the more joy I receive in being with her. It’s crazy!

Our word servant comes from an old French meaning “to be in attendance on.” It refers to the person serving a master or lord. So, naturally, my first reaction is adverse because I rebel at having another person demand my vassalage. I always have. “You’re not the boss of me!” was not only my early response but also my children’s and their children’s to anyone telling them what to do. Although, as a mature adult, the sentiment of the phrase quakes just below the surface.

Two familiar words come from that old root, servant and sergeant. From my military experience, I found that interesting. A sergeant was a boss who told me what to do. Sure, he got his directions from his superior, but he still forced me to comply with his desires by abandoning my own.

A happy servant finds the nobility in surrendering total self-absorption to become absorbed in another person’s desires and well-being. This is more than being kind to someone because it makes me feel good. It’s all about making the other person feel good.

This is where my life seems to be headed, to make Jan feel good. And I like it, most of the time.

But there is a greater truth here! Because I believe in the biblical revelation of who God is, what He has done, and what He expects, I choose to learn to shove my self-identity aside and accept the identity as His servant. I am wholly owned by Him and responsible to Him. There will undoubtedly come a day when every human being will come to that conclusion, “every knee will bow.”

For it is written, As I live, says the Lord, every knee will bow to me, and every tongue will give praise to God. So then, each of us will give an account of himself to God. (Romans 14:11-12)

I must confess I find this much easier to do with Jan than any other human. But Jesus didn’t. Maybe this was because Jesus was God’s servant, not humans.

I would rather be a sergeant than a servant on the human level. But once I learn the humility of being God’s servant, He will allow me to act as His sergeant as He cares for His creation.

Photo – The corner of a rock fence surrounding a home near Duhok, Kurdistan, Iraq (north of Mosel, the Old Testament city of Ninevah)