Introduction — The Art of Unselfish Living
When Jesus explained why He came, He kept it simple and direct. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” He came to serve and to give. Not to be served. Not to grab the spotlight in the center ring.
Centuries earlier, God had said through Isaiah, “Behold, My Servant. He will not cry out or raise His voice. A bruised reed He will not break.” How strange that must have sounded back then. God promised a Savior who would change the world and bring real justice, but not with loud speeches or threats. He would do it with love, gentle as a lamb. And because He came as a gentle servant, He changed the world forever.
The trouble is that serving and giving don’t come naturally to the rest of us. Living an unselfish life is an art, and it has to be learned. This book isn’t meant to give you warm fuzzies. It’s meant to be applied. You don’t have to be brilliant or gifted to pull off these truths in your life. But you do have to be willing.
Chapter 1 — Who, Me a Servant? You Gotta Be Kidding!
Look around, and you’ll see that hoarding and flaunting have replaced sharing and caring. But Romans 8 says God has one major goal for all His people: to conform us “to the image of His Son.” Jesus came to serve and to give, so God starts building that same heart into us.
Jesus spelled it out when His disciples got upset over who would get the places of honor. “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them,” He said. “It is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant.”
You’re probably thinking, “But there has to be leadership to get the job done.” Yes, there does. But it has to be servant-hearted leadership. How your church is organized matters a lot less than whether everyone, leader or not, sees himself as someone who serves and gives. The finest model after Christ may be Paul, who went from a strong-willed official in Judaism to a bond servant of Jesus. Almost every letter he wrote opens the same way: “Paul, a servant.”
So how can you tell if humility is real? Here are two tests. The first is a nondefensive spirit when someone confronts you. It shows you’re willing to be held accountable. Real humility runs on a simple idea: nothing to prove, nothing to lose. The second is staying in touch with what other people are going through, and always looking for ways to help.
None of this means turning into someone you’re not. Be who you really are, and let God grow in you a way of serving that fits you. That’s harder than it sounds, because the world pulls the other way.
Chapter 2 — A Case for Unselfishness
Someone once said, “The trouble with success is that the formula is the same as the one for a nervous breakdown.” Think about that formula. Work longer hours. Push ahead. Don’t let anything slow you down, not your family, your conscience, or your health. Be aggressive, and mean if you have to. It’s the same old line about fortune, fame, power, and pleasure we’ve been fed for decades.
Peter points to a different road. “God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time.” Following God’s way brings the one thing the world’s promises never deliver: a deep, lasting sense of satisfaction. Call it the forgotten side of success.
The problem is how easily the opposite comes out of us. We ridicule, we dominate, we criticize. We cut people to ribbons with our words. Then we find ways to avoid admitting it. “I’m not judging, I’m discerning.” “I’m not stubborn, just confident!”
Paul gives the cure in Philippians 2. “Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus.”
That gives us a picture of the servant the next three chapters will fill in: not a getter, but a giver. Not one who holds a grudge, but a forgiver. Not one who keeps score, but a forgetter. Not a superstar, but a servant.
Chapter 3 — The Servant As a Giver
The New Testament is full of “one another” commands. Be devoted to one another. Serve one another. Encourage one another, and build one another up. A good place to start is a simple prayer: “Lord, show me how You would respond to others, then make it happen in me.”
When God answers that prayer, things change. Instead of always thinking about what we’ll get, we start looking for ways to give. Instead of holding grudges, we’re eager to forgive. And instead of keeping a record of who we’ve helped, we enjoy forgetting it and going unnoticed. Giving, forgiving, and forgetting. That’s the servant’s path, and it starts with giving.
The best picture of it comes from the churches in Macedonia, in northern Greece. They were poor and going through hard times, and yet Paul says “their abundance of joy and their deep poverty overflowed in the wealth of their liberality.” They actually begged Paul for the chance to help other believers in need. And here’s the key: “they first gave themselves to the Lord.” They gave themselves first, and then they gave their gifts.
That’s still the right order. Giving starts with the person, not the wallet. Jesus did it first. “Though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.”
Two more things mark a real giver. First, a great proof of true servanthood is anonymity. The servant doesn’t need the credit. Second, the servant gives gladly, “not grudgingly or under compulsion; for God loves a cheerful giver.” And don’t wait to be asked. How many people are hurting but don’t feel free to say so until someone reaches out first? Become a giver, and watch God open the hearts of others to Himself.
Chapter 4 — The Servant As a Forgiver
Forgiveness isn’t an elective in the course of servanthood. It’s a required course, and the exams are always tough to pass.
It starts with remembering how much we’ve been forgiven. Psalm 103 says, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” And Ephesians 4 draws a straight line from God’s forgiveness to ours: “Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.”
Jesus told a story about this in Matthew 18. A king was settling accounts, and one of his servants owed him an incredible debt, about $10,000,000. He had no way to pay it. So he fell on his face and begged, “Have patience with me, and I will repay you everything.” The king felt compassion and forgave the whole debt.
But then that same servant walked out, found a fellow servant who owed him a hundred denarii, and grabbed him by the throat. “Pay back what you owe.” The man begged with almost the same words: “Have patience with me and I will repay you.” But the forgiven servant had him thrown in prison. When the king heard about it, he called him back. “You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt. Should you not also have had mercy on your fellow-slave, even as I had mercy on you?”
The point is hard to miss. We’re to forgive as we’ve been forgiven. So let go of the poison of all that bitterness. Pour it out before God, and tell Him you sincerely want to be free. And forgiving has a partner that’s just as hard: forgetting.
Chapter 5 — The Servant As a Forgetter
Love “does not take into account a wrong suffered,” Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13. Love isn’t touchy. It doesn’t keep a ledger.
So when we talk about forgetting, we mean three things. Refusing to keep score. Being bigger than any offense. And letting go of a judgmental attitude. Jesus was blunt about that last one. “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?”
Paul knew how to forget. In Philippians 3 he counted his impressive religious past as loss for the sake of Christ. Then he wrote, “I don’t mean to say I am perfect. But I am bringing all my energies to bear on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race.”
Woven into those words are three statements. “I have not arrived.” “I forget what is behind.” “I move on to what is ahead.” Each one shows a mark of a servant: vulnerability, humility, and determination. Near the end of his life, Paul could write, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.”
So ask yourself two honest questions. First, is there someone or something I’ve refused to forget, and it’s keeping me from being happy and useful? If so, say it openly to the Lord, and ask Him to take away the pain and the bitterness. Second, am I a victim of self-pity, stuck in despair? If so, stop excusing it, and hand it over to the only One who can remove it.
Giving, forgiving, and forgetting all start in the same place. They start in the mind.
Chapter 6 — Thinking Like a Servant Thinks
Thinking like a servant isn’t the same as having your mind controlled. Some groups use a kind of mind reprogramming on their followers. It turns a person into a puppet, with no dignity, no freedom to think or ask questions, and no joy in serving willingly. Weak and meek people can become prey for these self-appointed messiahs. The result isn’t spiritual growth. It’s exploitation.
God’s way is completely different. Paul puts it this way in Romans 12: “Present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Nobody forces this on you. You offer yourself, and God renews your thinking from the inside.
Living differently begins with thinking differently. A life of serving others starts in a mind that’s convinced of that kind of life. That’s why the great passage about Christ taking on the form of a servant opens with the words “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.”
And the mind is a battlefield. In 2 Corinthians 10, Paul says we tear down every proud idea raised against God, and we take “every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.” That’s where a servant’s heart gets built. A good prayer for it is a short one: “Make me a man who asks of You and of others, ‘What can I do for you?’”
So what does that kind of mind look like once it’s lived out? Jesus answered that in the most famous sermon He ever preached.
Chapter 7 — Portrait of a Servant, Part One
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” We love asking kids that. Now imagine asking Jesus what He wants us to be when we grow up. Suddenly it’s a whole new question. Swindoll believes He’d give every one of us the same answer: “I want you to be different. I want you to be a servant.” Yet Swindoll can’t remember anyone ever saying they wanted to be a servant when they grew up.
Part of the reason is that serving people, especially people who can’t pay us back, brings no glory from anyone but God. Still, to be a servant of God, we have to be a servant of people.
If you had to name one theme for the Sermon on the Mount, it would be “Be different!” Again and again Jesus says, “You have heard, but I say to you.” The key verse is “Therefore, do not be like them.” Jesus saw through the pride of the religious leaders, and He wanted humility and honesty in His disciples instead.
The sermon opens with the Beatitudes, the most descriptive word portrait of a servant ever recorded. There are eight traits, and they’re not a multiple-choice list where you pick your favorites. This chapter covers the first four.
The first is “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” In Hebrew, the word poor described the humble, helpless person who put his whole trust in God. It’s someone who sees himself as spiritually bankrupt and turns to God in total trust, like a child counting completely on a parent. Admitting that poverty is the one condition for a place in the kingdom.
The second is “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” A fair paraphrase might be “How happy are those who care deeply about the hurts and sorrows and losses of others.” At the heart of this trait is compassion, and we badly need it today.
The third is “Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.” Gentleness is strength under control. It means staying calm when things get heated, calming down angry people, and showing the kind of tact that lets others keep their dignity. Jesus used the same word for Himself: “I am gentle and humble in heart.”
The fourth is “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” The true servant has a huge appetite for what’s right. It starts with a longing to walk with God and please Him. But it’s practical too. Servants grieve over the corruption and unfairness around them, and instead of shrugging it off, they keep pressing for what’s right.
Before going on, ask yourself honestly: Am I really different? The bottom-line question isn’t “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s “What are you becoming, now that you’re grown?”
Chapter 8 — Portrait of a Servant, Part Two
The fifth trait is “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” Mercy is ministry to the miserable. Merciful servants get inside the other person’s skin. Instead of watching from a distance, they get involved and do something that eases the pain.
James pushes hard on this. “If you had a friend who is in need, and you say to him, ‘Well, good-bye and God bless you; stay warm and eat hearty,’ and then don’t give him clothes or food, what good does that do?” True servants are merciful. They care. They get involved. They get dirty if they have to. They offer more than pious words.
The sixth trait is “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Purity of heart isn’t just doing the right things. It’s doing the right things for the right reasons. For the opposite, look at Matthew 23. Instead of eight blessings, Jesus pronounces eight woes on the religious leaders. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside they are full of robbery and self-indulgence.”
The Pharisees were big on rules and little on godliness. Big on appearance and little on reality. In fact, the word hypocrite comes from the old Greek plays. An actor would hold a big grinning mask in front of his face and deliver his comedy lines while the crowd roared. Then he’d slip backstage, grab a frowning mask, and come back with tragic lines while the crowd wept. He was called a hupocritos, one who wears a mask. Servants who are pure in heart have peeled off their masks.
The seventh trait is “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” This doesn’t mean blessed are those who avoid all conflict, or who want peace at any price. A peacemaker is someone who, first, is at peace inside, and so isn’t abrasive. Second, a peacemaker works hard to settle quarrels, not start them. And look at the promise. They’ll be called God’s children. Few things are more godlike than peace.
The eighth trait is the hardest. “Blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of righteousness.” Notice that Jesus doesn’t say “if” people revile you. He says “when.” It’s tough to bear. Sometimes the only way a servant gets through it without turning bitter is by focusing on the reward Jesus promises. He even tells us to “rejoice, and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great.”
So there’s the full portrait. Poor in spirit. Mourning. Gentle. Hungry for righteousness. Merciful. Pure in heart. Peacemakers. Persecuted. It sounds like a quiet, easily overlooked sort of life. But Jesus went straight on to say how much influence it would have.
Chapter 9 — The Influence of a Servant
Right after the Beatitudes, Jesus told that handful of Palestinian peasants something surprising. Their influence would be nothing short of remarkable. They would be “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” And so will we. Neither salt nor light is loud or flashy, but both are essential.
And the world badly needs both. Paul warned Timothy that in the last days people would be “lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant,” and “lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God.” That’s the world servants live in.
Think about how salt works. It’s shaken and sprinkled, not poured, because too much in one spot ruins the food. That’s a good reminder for Christians to spread out rather than stay huddled together. Salt adds flavor, but nobody notices the salt itself. Nobody says, “My, this is good salt.” They say, “This food is really tasty.” Servants add a zest to life you can’t get any other way.
Light is even more striking, because Christ calls us what He called Himself. “I am the light of the world,” He said in John 8. Then He turned to His followers and said, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.”
Both pictures come down to three words: “I am different.” Probably the greatest tragedy in the history of Christianity has been our tendency to become like the world rather than completely different from it. The culture has sucked us in like a giant vacuum cleaner, and we’ve done an amazing job of fitting in. But being different comes with its own dangers.
Chapter 10 — The Perils of a Servant
Paul described the servant’s life as “always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus.” Serving others isn’t safe. It comes with real perils, and it helps to see them coming.
One peril is the way you treat people who oppose you. Paul told Timothy that the Lord’s servant “must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition.” The goal isn’t to win the argument. It’s that God might lead them to repentance.
Another peril is going unnoticed. More often than not, you’ll be overlooked, passed up, and nearly unknown. Your reward won’t come from outside you, but from within. Not from people, but from the satisfaction God gives you deep down inside.
And then there’s the quiet danger of mixed motives. A servant has to keep asking hard questions. Why am I planning this? Why did I say yes, or no? Why am I excited about this opportunity? Why did I bring up that person’s name? In the end they all come down to one question: What’s my motive? The clearest picture of a pure motive is Jesus Himself.
Chapter 11 — The Obedience of a Servant
Jesus is the most phenomenal person who ever lived. But what was He like on the inside? There’s only one place where He describes Himself in His own words, and He uses just two words. He doesn’t say, “I am wise and powerful,” or “I am holy and eternal.” He says, “Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart.”
Gentle and humble. When God shapes us into the image of His Son, these are the qualities He wants to see. We’re never more like Christ than when we fit His description of Himself. And those qualities show up best in our obedience.
Picture the scene in John 13. In first-century Jerusalem, the streets were mostly dirt paths covered in dust, and several inches of mud when it rained. So a host would put a slave at the door to wash the guests’ feet as they came in. But that night, none of the disciples volunteered. So the room was full of proud hearts and dirty feet. Those men were willing to fight for a throne, but not for a towel.
Jesus didn’t announce, “Men, watch Me demonstrate humility.” That kind of showy pride was the trademark of the Pharisees. He quietly slipped away from the table, pulled off His outer robe, and with a towel, pitcher, and pan in hand, moved from man to man.
Peter wasn’t about to let that happen. Jesus was the Master. No way was He going to wash the dirt off Peter’s feet. But is that humility? Not really. Sometimes it takes more grace to receive than to give, and our reluctance to receive exposes our pride. His answer was sharp. In effect He said, “If you don’t let Me do this, that’s it. Get out!” Being a servant doesn’t mean you’ll never use strong words.
Afterward Jesus explained, “If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you.” He didn’t say, “so you could study it on Sundays.” He wanted action, not theory.
We can’t serve each other from a distance. If someone is drowning in a troubled sea, we get wet. Nobody ever learned to water-ski in the living room through a correspondence course. So be honest. Are you willing to help at least one person in need? Willingness has to come before involvement. The fun comes when we roll up our sleeves, wrap the towel around our waist, and wash a few feet, quietly, graciously, and cheerfully, like Christ.
Chapter 12 — The Consequences of Serving
Americans like things to be logical and fair. If I do what’s right, good things will happen to me. If I do what’s wrong, bad things will. That’s a very logical rule, but there’s one problem with it. It isn’t always true.
If we serve others long enough, we will suffer wrong treatment for doing right things. Peter says it plainly: “It is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong.”
Hebrews 11 tells of people of faith who were beaten, whipped, and chained in dungeons. They all trusted God and won His approval, and still none of them received all that God had promised them.
It helps to know this ahead of time, because bitterness often grows out of disillusionment. Many Christians today are sitting on the sidelines, eaten up by resentment, because they were mistreated after doing what was right.
Paul had every reason to be one of them. Five times he got thirty-nine lashes. Three times he was beaten with rods. Once he was stoned. Three times he was shipwrecked. He went without sleep, food, and warmth. Yet he could write, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; struck down, but not destroyed.”
He explained that “we have this treasure in earthen vessels.” We’ve been given a priceless treasure, the gospel, in a fragile container, our weak bodies. That way there’s no question where the power comes from. It has to be God’s, not ours. Paul even called it all “momentary, light affliction.” That sounds beautiful on a page. It’s another thing to believe it when all hell breaks loose against you.
So here are two truths to hold onto when it does. The first: nothing touches me that has not passed through the hands of my heavenly Father. We may never know why, but our pain is no accident to Him. Before it ever touches us, it passes through Him. The second: everything I endure is designed to prepare me for serving others better. God uses it to empty our hands of our own resources and turn us back to Him, the faithful Provider. And He knows what will get through to us.
Chapter 13 — The Rewards of Serving
Suffering isn’t the end of the story. One day we’ll spend eternity with God, and part of that hope is His promise to reward His servants for a job well done. Most believers look forward to hearing Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
That doesn’t make the reward the point. An old hymn says it well: “The bride eyes not her garment, but her dear bridegroom’s face. I will not gaze at glory, but on my King of grace.”
Paul describes the day of reward in 1 Corinthians 3. Everyone builds on the one foundation, Jesus Christ. Some build with gold, silver, and precious stones. Others build with wood, hay, and straw. And “the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work.”
The world hands out its own rewards, like the Nobel Prize and the Heisman Trophy. But most of a servant’s rewards come after death, not before. And notice that the fire tests the quality of each person’s work, not the size. We’re impressed by size and numbers. God’s eye is on motive. Because He rewards quality, everybody has an equal chance to receive a reward.
So be assured. When that day comes, no act of serving others, whether anyone saw it or not, will be forgotten. You can be a nobody in the eyes of this world, and God will still reward every act of service you’ve done. As Hebrews 6 says, “God is not unjust so as to forget your work.” Jesus Himself promised a reward for something as small as a cup of cold water given in His name.
He also told a story about the final judgment. The King says to those on His right, “I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in.” Surprised, they ask when they ever did that. And He answers, “To the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”
The Bible names at least five crowns. The imperishable crown is for those who run the race of life well. The crown of exultation is for those who lead people to Christ. The crown of righteousness is for those who live looking forward to His return. The crown of life is for those who endure trials while loving Him all the way through. And the crown of glory is for faithful shepherds of God’s flock.
And then what? Revelation 4 shows the scene. The elders fall down and “cast their crowns before the throne.” Picture it. Are God’s servants strutting around heaven showing off their crowns like peacocks? No. They’re bowing in worship, having laid every crown at the feet of the only One who deserves the praise.
Chapter 14 — A Challenge to Improve Your Serve
It’s hard to grow a servant’s heart when you’re trying to survive in a chaotic world ruled by selfish pursuits. And the saddest part of that kind of life is what it produces: an independent, self-sufficient, survival-of-the-fittest mindset.
Jesus turned that mindset upside down. At the Last Supper He asked, “For who is greater, he who sits at the table, or he who serves?” The obvious answer is the one at the table. People with no clout do the dirty work for people with power. Right? But Jesus turned the tables on them. “Yet I am among you as the One who serves.”
So as you close this book, hold onto four things. First, every act of serving, no matter how small or large, will be remembered by God. Second, He takes special notice of the heart. He knows the love behind what we do. Third, when servants reach out to others, the life of Christ is on display, and it stirs up thankfulness in the people around them. Fourth, special rewards are waiting in heaven for those who practice the art of unselfish living.
That’s the challenge. You don’t have to be brilliant or gifted. You just have to be willing. So start with one person in need, and pick up the towel.