← Back to Bookshelf

Improving Your Serve

The Art of Unselfish Living

Charles Swindoll

Why Read This

What it looks like to genuinely serve others without an agenda, recognition, or a running tab.

The greatest leaders in history were servants first. Swindoll identifies the attitudes that distinguish genuine servants from people who merely perform acts of service: humility, transparency, generosity, and an absence of self-promotion.

Pillar: Faith Theme: Serve Read: ~5 min
10 Insights Worth the Read

The Book in Bullets

Everything Swindoll wants you to walk away with

1

The greatest leaders in history were servants first — servanthood isn't a stepping stone, it's the pinnacle of character.

The world measures greatness by how high you rise. Jesus measured it by how low you'll go to meet someone's need. The towel and basin — washing his disciples' feet — is the defining image of what real leadership looks like.

2

Real servanthood has no agenda, needs no audience, and keeps no score.

The moment you serve primarily for recognition, you have stopped serving and started performing. Genuine service is done because the need exists, not because anyone is watching or keeping track.

3

The spiritual discipline is serving in ways no one will ever see or acknowledge.

Hidden service purifies motive and reshapes the heart more deeply than any public ministry can. The servant who cleans up after the event, who prays in secret, who gives anonymously — they're doing the real work of character formation.

4

Serving is easy when people notice — and nearly impossible when they don't. That's the test.

Most people are willing to serve when there's a stage. The question is whether you'll do it when there's no applause, no thank-you, and no one even knows your name. That's where servanthood becomes something real.

5

Humility, transparency, generosity, and the absence of self-promotion — these are the attitudes that distinguish genuine servants.

You can perform acts of service without having a servant's heart. The difference is in the attitudes beneath the actions. Swindoll identifies specific internal postures that separate genuine servants from people who merely look like them.

6

A servant's heart is revealed not in how you treat people who can help you but in how you treat people who can't.

It's easy to be gracious to your boss or your biggest client. The real measure is how you treat the waiter, the janitor, the person who has nothing to offer you in return.

7

Jesus didn't just teach servanthood — he lived alongside his disciples so they could absorb it.

Servanthood is caught more than taught. It's transmitted through proximity, shared meals, ordinary moments. The people in your life learn far more from watching you serve than from hearing you talk about it.

8

Selfishness is the natural default — servanthood requires daily, deliberate choice.

Nobody drifts into genuine service. Your flesh will always prefer comfort, recognition, and self-interest. Becoming a servant means fighting those defaults every single day — and doing it cheerfully, not as a martyr.

9

Generosity of time is harder than generosity of money — and usually more valuable.

Writing a check is relatively easy. Giving someone your undivided attention, your Saturday, your inconvenience — that costs something money can't measure. The servant who gives time gives a piece of their life.

10

You can lead with your title or lead with your hands — the latter produces followers, the former produces compliance.

Servant leadership isn't soft — it's the most demanding and most effective form of influence. People follow servant leaders not because they have to but because they want to. The difference shows up in loyalty, trust, and lasting impact.

These notes are inspired by direct excerpts and woven together into a readable guide you can follow from start to finish.

Introduction — The Art of Unselfish Living

When Jesus took the time to explain His reason for coming among us, He was simple and direct: to serve and to give. Not to be served. Not to grab the spotlight in the center ring. The very words He chose cut against every natural instinct — “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Centuries earlier, Isaiah had prepared the announcement. God declared: “Behold, My Servant. He will not cry out or raise His voice, nor make His voice heard in the street. A bruised reed He will not break, and a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice” (Isaiah 42:1–3). God was proclaiming, ages before it happened, that the Savior would come as a gentle servant — a leader who would transform the world and bring forth justice, but not with loud harangues or offensive threats. He would do it with love. Gentle as a lamb.

Serving and giving don’t come naturally. They never have. Living an unselfish life is an art — and like all art, it must be learned, practiced, and pursued with intention. 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!

God is committed to one major objective in the lives of all His people — to conform us to the image of His Son (Romans 8:29). After bringing us into His family through faith in Christ, the Lord God sets His sights on building into us the same quality that made Jesus distinct from all others: He came to serve and to give. Jesus was direct about what that looks like in practice: “whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Matthew 20:25–28).

At this point someone usually says, “But there must be leadership to get the job done.” Yes — but it must be servant-hearted leadership. Which form of government a church embraces matters far less than whether everyone involved — whether leader or not — sees himself as one who serves, one who gives. Perhaps the finest model, except Christ Himself, was that young Jew from Tarsus radically transformed from a strong-willed official in Judaism to a bond servant of Jesus Christ — Paul. Almost without exception he begins every piece of correspondence with words to this effect: “Paul, a servant” or “Paul, a bond-slave.”

Two revealing tests expose the presence or absence of genuine humility. First, a nondefensive spirit when confronted — revealing a willingness to be accountable. Genuine humility operates on a simple philosophy: nothing to prove, nothing to lose. Second, a true servant stays in touch with the struggles others experience, continually looking for ways to serve and to give. Being real — that’s the major message of this chapter. Being who you really are, and then allowing the Lord God to develop within you a style of serving that fits you. Servanthood is not one-size-fits-all. It is personal, specific, and deeply individual.

Chapter 2 — A Case for Unselfishness

”The trouble with success,” as it has been well observed, “is that the formula is the same as the one for a nervous breakdown.” And what is that formula? Work longer hours. Push ahead. Let nothing hinder your quest — not your marriage or family, not your convictions or conscience, not your health or friends. It’s the same old fortune-fame-power-pleasure line we’ve been fed for decades. Scripture cuts through it directly: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety upon Him, because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:5–7). Following God’s directives brings the one benefit not found in the world’s empty promises: a deep sense of lasting satisfaction — the forgotten side of success, the success that comes to those who develop the heart of a servant. Consider how naturally the opposite flows out of us. We ridicule, we dominate, we criticize. “I’m not dogmatic, I’m just sure of myself.” “I’m not judging, I’m discerning.” “I’m not stubborn, just confident!” All of this pours out with hardly a second thought. Paul set the alternative plainly: “Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for your own personal interests but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:3–5). The portrait of a servant is simple: not a getter, but a giver. Not a grudge-holder, but a forgiver. Not a scorekeeper, but a forgetter.

Chapter 3 — The Servant As a Giver

The posture of the giver starts with a prayer: “Lord, show me how You would respond to others, then make it happen in me.” Paul paints a picture of what servant-giving looks like in practice: being devoted to one another in brotherly love, giving preference to one another in honor, contributing to the needs of the saints, practicing hospitality (Romans 12:10–13). The calling extends to every believer — you were called to freedom, but not freedom for selfish ends; rather, “through love serve one another” (Galatians 5:13). Encourage one another and build one another up (1 Thessalonians 5:11).

All of this leads to a fundamental shift in orientation. Instead of always thinking about receiving, start looking for ways to give. Instead of holding grudges against those who offended you, be anxious to forgive. Instead of keeping a record of what you’ve done or who you’ve helped, take delight in forgetting the deed and being virtually unnoticed. A great proof of true servanthood is anonymity.

The churches of Macedonia give us one of Scripture’s finest examples. In a great ordeal of affliction, their abundance of joy and their deep poverty overflowed in the wealth of their generosity. They gave even beyond their ability, “begging us with much entreaty for the favor of participation in the support of the saints” (2 Corinthians 8:1–5). Notice what preceded the gift: they first gave themselves to the Lord. The servants in Macedonia gave themselves first and their gifts second. “Let each one do just as he has purposed in his heart; not grudgingly or under compulsion; for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7). How many people are hurting but don’t feel free to say so until someone voluntarily reaches out to them? Scripture promises that “he who is generous will be blessed” (Proverbs 22:9). Become a giver, and watch God open the hearts of others to Himself.

Chapter 4 — The Servant As a Forgiver

Forgiveness is not an elective in the curriculum of servanthood. It is a required course, and the exams are always tough to pass. The starting point is to reflect on the forgiveness you yourself have already received. The psalmist captures the scale: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12). Paul makes the logic explicit: forgive each other “just as God in Christ also has forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:32). Jesus told a parable: a king forgave a slave who owed him ten million dollars — an unrepayable sum — but that same slave refused mercy to a fellow slave who owed him a fraction of that debt, and had him thrown into prison (Matthew 18:23–34). The debt God has forgiven us is infinite. The debts owed to us are finite, manageable, and small by comparison. Release the poison of all that bitterness.

Chapter 5 — The Servant As a Forgetter

Love “does not take into account a wrong suffered” (1 Corinthians 13:5). It does not keep account of evil or gloat over the wickedness of other people. And Jesus was pointed about what that demands of us: “Do not judge lest you be judged yourselves. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it shall be measured to you. And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:1–3).

When we talk about “forgetting,” three things are meant: refusing to keep score, being bigger than any offense, and harboring no judgmental attitude. It is not a demand to somehow delete a painful memory — it is a choice to decline the right to use it. Paul demonstrated this with both his pen and his life: “Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God is calling us up to heaven because of what Christ Jesus did for us” (Philippians 3:12–14). Woven into those words are three characteristics of servanthood: “I have not arrived” — vulnerability; “I forget what is behind” — humility; “I move on to what is ahead” — determination. Very near the end of his full and productive life, Paul wrote the grand epitaph of a man who had forgotten his failures and run toward the finish: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

Two questions are worth sitting with honestly. Is there someone or something you have refused to forget, which keeps you from being happy and productive? If so, stop and declare it openly to your Lord, asking Him to take away the pain and the bitterness. And are you a victim of self-pity, living out your days emotionally paralyzed in anguish and despair? If so, consider the consequences of living the rest of your life excusing your depression rather than turning it all over to the only One who can remove it.

Chapter 6 — Thinking Like a Servant Thinks

There is a counterfeit form of servanthood that turns a human being into a puppet — a slave without personal dignity, without the privilege to think and to ask questions, and without the joy of serving willingly under the control and authority of Jesus Christ. True servant-minded thinking is something altogether different. Paul lays the foundation in Romans 12:1–2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Living differently begins with thinking differently. That explains why the great passage describing Christ’s willingness to take upon Himself the form of a servant begins with the words: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). The servant’s prayer captures the whole aspiration simply: “Make me a man who asks of You and of others — what can I do for you?”

Chapter 7 — Portrait of a Servant, Part One

Imagine putting the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” to Jesus Christ. He would give the same answer to every one of us: to be different, to be a servant. Time and again in the Sermon on the Mount, He states the way things were among the religious types of the day, then instructs His listeners to be different. The pattern “You have heard… but I say to you…” appears five times in Matthew 5 alone. The key verse of the entire sermon is “Therefore, do not be like them” (Matthew 6:8).

The Beatitudes — Matthew 5:1–12 — are the most descriptive word-portrait of a servant ever recorded. Eight character traits that identify true servanthood. This is not a multiple-choice list where anyone is free to pick favorites; all eight. The first is poverty of spirit: seeing oneself as spiritually bankrupt, deserving of nothing, turning to God in total trust. The indispensable condition of receiving a part in the kingdom of heaven is acknowledging our spiritual poverty. The opposite attitude is on full display in the Laodicean congregation, whom Christ rebuked with severity: “You say, ‘I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,’ and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked” (Revelation 3:17). The second is mourning — caring intensely for the hurts and sorrows of others; compassion, a servant attitude so desperately needed today. The third is gentleness: strength under control, being calm and peaceful in a heated atmosphere, emitting a soothing effect, possessing tact and gracious courtesy. The same word describes Jesus Himself: “Come to Me… for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matthew 11:28–29).

The fourth is an insatiable hunger and thirst for righteousness — a passionate drive for justice, both upward in a vertical holiness and outward, being grieved over corruption and inequities. What these first four beatitudes promise in return is striking: a place in His kingdom; comfort in one’s own life; inheriting the earth; and an unusual measure of personal contentment. Before examining the final four, the bottom-line question is not “What do you want to be when you grow up?” but “What are you becoming, now that you’re grown?”

Chapter 8 — Portrait of a Servant, Part Two

The fifth beatitude is mercy: concern for people in need, ministry to the miserable. Rather than watching from a distance or keeping the needy safely at arm’s length, true servants get in touch, get involved, and get dirty if necessary. They offer more than pious words. John pressed deep: “if someone who is supposed to be a Christian sees a brother in need, and won’t help him — how can God’s love be within him?” (1 John 3:17). The sixth is purity of heart — not simply doing the right things, but doing them for the right reasons. In Matthew 23, Jesus delivers eight “Woe unto you’s” to the Pharisees: “You clean the outside of the cup… but inside they are full of robbery and self-indulgence… You are like whitewashed tombs which on the outside appear beautiful, but inside they are full of dead men’s bones” (Matthew 23:25, 27). The Pharisees were big on rules and little on godliness, big on externals and little on internals, big on appearance and little on reality. The very word “hypocrite” traces back to the ancient Greek theater: an actor would hold a large grinning mask before his face for comedy, then slip backstage and return with a frowning tragic mask. He was called a hupocritos — one who wears a mask. Servants who are pure in heart have peeled off their masks.

The seventh is peacemaking — not avoiding all conflict, but working hard to settle quarrels rather than start them. James identifies the deeper root: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits” (James 3:17). A peacemaker is first at peace within himself. The eighth beatitude says not “if” men revile you, but “when” — you will be persecuted, viciously mistreated. But the Savior says you will be blessed when you endure it. The calling has been stated clearly: poor in spirit, mourning, gentle, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking, and willing to be persecuted. Eight traits. All eight.

Chapter 9 — The Influence of a Servant

Strange as it may seem, Jesus told that handful of Palestinian peasants — and all godly servants in every generation — that their influence would be nothing short of remarkable. They would be “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.” Neither is loud or externally impressive, but both are essential. Consider what salt does. It is shaken and sprinkled, not poured — it must be spread out, because too much salt ruins food. It adds flavor while remaining obscure — no one ever comments, “My, this is good salt.” Servants add zest to life, a flavor impossible to achieve without them. Salt is unlike any other seasoning — its uniqueness is its strength, and it must be applied before it is useful. And they carry the light. Jesus had called Himself the light of the world, and now He says the same of us: “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden” (Matthew 5:14). The greatest tragedy of Christianity through its history has been our tendency to become like the world rather than completely different from it. The servant resists by declaring simply: I am different.

Chapter 10 — The Perils of a Servant

Be prepared: more often than not, a servant will be overlooked, passed up, behind the scenes, and virtually unknown. The reward will not come from without but from within — not from people, but from the satisfaction God gives down inside. The most penetrating peril of servanthood is not the opposition from outside but the corruption of motive from within. The questions worth pressing honestly into every act: Why are you planning this? What is the reason behind your doing that? Why did you say yes — or no? What is the motive for writing that letter? These questions are uncomfortable precisely because the answers reveal who is actually being served.

Chapter 11 — The Obedience of a Servant

There is only one place in Scripture where Jesus Christ, in His own words, describes His own inner character. 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” (Matthew 11:29). We are never more like Christ than when we fit into His description of Himself. And how do those qualities reveal themselves best? In our obedience.

In first-century Jerusalem, paved roads were few. The roads and alleys were winding dirt trails covered with a thick layer of dust — and when the rains came, they became liquid slush several inches deep. The custom, therefore, was for a host to provide a slave at the door of his home to wash the feet of dinner guests as they arrived. What is interesting is that none of the disciples had volunteered for that lowly task on the night of the Last Supper. The room was filled with proud hearts and dirty feet. Those disciples were willing to fight for a throne, but not a towel. Jesus never announced, “Men, I am now going to demonstrate servanthood.” He slipped away from the table, quietly pulled off His outer tunic, and with towel, pitcher, and pan in hand, moved quietly from man to man. When He came to Peter, the impulsive disciple dug in — Jesus was the Master, not the servant. Is that humility? It is not. Being willing to receive sometimes takes more grace than giving to others. Jesus left no room for negotiation: “If you do not allow Me to do this, that is it. Get out.”

After washing their feet, 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. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them” (John 13:13–17). The popular misreadings of that last command are endless. “I gave you an example that you should study about it on Sundays.” No. “I gave you an example that you should form discussion groups and meditate on it.” No. Jesus said it plainly. He was looking for action, not theory. We cannot serve one another at arm’s length. If someone is drowning, we get wet. Nobody ever learned to water ski in the living room — you have to get in the water and get personally involved.

Chapter 12 — The Consequences of Serving

Americans like things to be logical and fair. The prevailing axiom goes like this: if I do what is right, good will come to me, and if I do what is wrong, bad things will happen. Right brings rewards and wrong brings consequences. It is a reasonable axiom — there is only one problem with it. It is not always true. Life doesn’t work out quite that neatly.

If we serve others long enough, we will suffer wrong treatment for doing right things. That is not a warning to frighten anyone away from servanthood. It is preparation for the inevitable. Peter knew it firsthand: “For it is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong” (1 Peter 3:17). Hebrews 11 tells of those who trusted God and were beaten to death, laughed at, their backs cut open with whips, chained in dungeons — “too good for this world” (Hebrews 11:39). Paul’s own record stands as evidence: five times receiving thirty-nine lashes, three times beaten with rods, once stoned, three times shipwrecked, in frequent danger, in labor and hardship through many sleepless nights — “and beyond all the external things, the daily pressure of his concern for all the churches” (2 Corinthians 11:28).

Two truths anchor the servant through such times. First: nothing touches us that has not first passed through the hands of our heavenly Father. Our pain is no accident to Him who guides our lives. Second: everything we endure is designed to prepare us to serve others more effectively. “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:17–18).

Chapter 13 — The Rewards of Serving

Ultimately, we shall spend eternity with God in the place He has prepared for us. And part of that exciting anticipation is His promise to reward His servants for a job well done. There is scarcely a believer who has never thought of being with the Lord in heaven, receiving His smile of acceptance, and hearing His “well done, good and faithful servant.” A Scottish hymn captures the right orientation toward that day: “The bride eyes not her garment, but her dear bridegroom’s face; I will not gaze at glory, but on my King of grace: Not at the crown He giveth, but on His piercéd hand; The Lamb is all the glory of Emmanuel’s land.” Paul lays out the principle in 1 Corinthians 3: the foundation can only be Jesus Christ. “Each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it, because it is to be revealed with fire; and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work. If any man’s work which he has built upon it remains, he shall receive a reward” (1 Corinthians 3:12–14). The world provides certain people with special honors — the Pulitzer Prize, the Nobel Peace Prize, the Academy Awards, the Heisman Trophy; the military offers medals of bravery: the Navy Cross, the Purple Heart, the Medal of Honor. But when it comes to servanthood, God reserves special honor for the day when “each man’s work will become evident.” The fire tests not size or volume or noise or numbers — it tests quality. God’s eye is always on motive, authenticity, the real truth beneath the surface. Which means everybody has an equal opportunity to receive a reward.

No act of serving, well known or unknown by others, will be forgotten. “For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the love which you have shown toward His name, in having ministered and in still ministering to the saints” (Hebrews 6:10). Paul adds: “Nothing you do for the Lord is ever wasted” (1 Corinthians 15:58). “Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we shall reap if we do not grow weary” (Galatians 6:9). Christ even promised an eternal reward for holding out a cup of cool water: “Whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water to drink, truly I say to you he shall not lose his reward” (Matthew 10:42). And in the parable of the sheep and the goats, the King says: “To the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me” (Matthew 25:40).

Scripture promises at least five specific crowns: the Imperishable Crown for those who consistently bring the flesh under the Holy Spirit’s control; the Crown of Exultation for those who faithfully declare the gospel; the Crown of Righteousness for those who live each day anticipating Christ’s return; the Crown of Life for those who endure trials loving the Savior all the way; and the Crown of Glory for those who faithfully shepherd the flock with willingness, sacrifice, and humility. After receiving these crowns, what then? The twenty-four elders in Revelation 4 cast their crowns before the throne, saying, “Worthy art Thou, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power.” Not displaying trophies. Bowing in worship, having cast all crowns before their Lord in adoration, ascribing worth to the only One deserving of praise.

Chapter 14 — A Challenge to Improve Your Serve

It is difficult to cultivate a servant’s heart when you are trying to survive in a chaotic society dominated by selfish pursuits. Jesus phrased the challenge well: “For who is greater, he who sits at the table, or he who serves?” His disciples would naturally answer: the greater should sit, the lesser should serve. But Jesus turned the tables entirely: “Yet I am among you as the One who serves” (Luke 22:27). That is the challenge laid before every one of us. And it rests on four realities that do not change: every act of servanthood — no matter how small — will be remembered by God; He takes special note of the love behind our actions; as servants reach out to others, Christ’s life is modeled; and special rewards are reserved in heaven for those who practice the art of unselfish living.