Last week during our team meeting we were presented with an interesting challenge as part of our worship… to serve each other. The challenge seemed a simple one. How hard is it to make someone a coffee or to pass the veg?
It turns out serving someone isn’t the difficult part. Being served is much harder.
But I like my milk in first.
Not so much broccolli.
I wouldn’t do it like that.
Being served means giving up power. It means allowing someone to help. It means reviewing your ideas of what is ‘right’ and ‘good enough’.
It made us uncomfortable. It made us think.
What if you serve all the time? Do others have the chance to serve? Is being served all the time disempowering? How does that manifest itself?
Last year, my husband and I broke our left collar bones. That meant we had to rely on others for so much – getting shopping; taking us to and from hospital; getting washed (it’s really hard washing hair with one arm immobilised!); doing washing; washing the dishes…; the list goes on and on.
Both of us are really independent and doers. It was incredibly hard letting other help, even when we knew we didn’t have a choice. Again, there was the feeling of impossing on others – they had their own things they needed to do too – and the feeling that’s not how I would do it. Eventually, we did get used to it, though that doesn’t mean we liked it!
Now, I know I’m much more comfortable letting others serve me and allowing them to do it there way. I am also much more aware how frustating people who need served a lot (if not all the time) may find it. Last year’s crash definately gave me an insight of being served that will live with me for a long time.
That’s probably part of the reason why the disciples were so uncomfortable when Jesus washed their feet. Not just their leader doing it, but “I wouldn’t do it that way” etc. Being served is very humbling.