Last of all and Servant of all
There is an indefatigable lady who moves like the energizer bunny between activities at my new parish. In the short time that I am there, I have come to rely on her as the go-to-person to get things. There is one such lady in my old parish as well. I believe you have met persons like this in your course of work. They do things, without counting the cost in time and effort.
When I read the lines in this week’s Gospel Mark 9: 30-37 ‘And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, ‘If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all’ I thought of her and all the lady volunteers that make our parishes function. Without them the parishes would come to a halt. They are seldom called to make a speech, they are not addressed in the opening of a speech, and are usually included as ‘all the others who made this enterprise possible’.
Yet, they are the ones who embody the true spirit of Jesus. They work quietly behind the scenes, often unnoticed, yet their contributions are invaluable. Their humility and dedication reflect the very heart of the Gospel, as they put others before themselves, serving with joy and selflessness. These women are the lifeblood of our parishes, ensuring that every event, Mass, and community outreach happens smoothly.
Mothers are also like this, selfless, servant to their children, ensuring they are dressed properly for school and have their book bags and lunch boxes packed, often without a thought of themselves. When I see them, I am reminded of Jesus’ words, that true leadership lies in service to others. Their legacy is written not in applause, but in the lives they touch and the communities and families they sustain.
The modern world celebrates the alternative leader, the mythical knight in shining armour, the lone ranger, the one who embodies individualism and personal glory. However, true Christian leadership, as Jesus teaches, is the exact opposite. It’s not about standing out or being celebrated, but about humbly stepping in where needed, supporting others without seeking recognition.
The quiet mothers, the tireless volunteers, and the humble servants in our communities are the true heroes, they embody the strength of sacrificial love, the kind that transforms lives without fanfare or reward. Their leadership is grounded in compassion, patience, and persistence, and it reflects the love of Christ more profoundly than any grand act of heroism ever could.
As I return from the hilltop cottage overlooking the sea to my role as pastor to my parish, my thoughts turn to how I can embrace this attitude and style of quiet, humble service in my ministry. It is a reminder that true pastoral care is not about being at the forefront, but about walking alongside others in their journey, supporting them in the small, unnoticed moments.
Like those quiet mothers and tireless volunteers, I pray that I, too, may serve without seeking recognition, but with a heart full of compassion, patience, and Christ-like love. For it is in those unseen acts of service that we truly live out the Gospel and build a community and family rooted in faith, hope, and love. What about you my friend? How can you also embody this leadership style at home and in your course of work?