Guest Columnist

Have you ever noticed, at a

high school or college graduation, who comes in first?

I mean, when the graduates

start to process in and take their places, they are

preceded by lots of folks in robes, caps, little tassels,

and colorful stoles. So, who are these important people

who lead the pack, anyway? And why do they dress like

that?

Basically, it's a matter of

"who's who." According to information from the

University of West Georgia (where my wife is an assistant

professor in nursing and now is numbered among the

"who's who") the custom of wearing a

distinctive dress for academic ceremonies dates back to

the Middle Ages, where people dressed in a manner

befitting their class.

In the United States, the

custom of distinguishing costumes for university

functions began at Harvard in 1636.

Each robe has a meaning, as

does each academic hood. Even the cap worn at graduations

holds a meaning. Those who hold doctorates may opt to

wear a soft velvet cap or, if they choose to wear the

more familiar "mortar board," may elect to wear

a tassel of gold threads. And, if you can't tell who the

really big wigs are by the clothes they wear, the order

they occupy in the procession tells the story.

The position of greatest

honor enters first, followed by those of lesser rank,

distinction, or honor. The president, speakers, guests,

and deans, are followed by full professors, associate

professors, assistant professors, and then instructors.

The graduating students

likewise occupy rank. For example, at most schools,

depending on the course offerings, the highest graduate

is the holder of the Ph.D., or Doctor of Philosophy,

followed by Doctor of Medicine, followed by other

doctoral degrees.

Graduates with master's

degrees are next, with graduates holding bachelor's

degrees and associate's degrees rounding it out.

On the other hand, if you

were to attend a church function where processionals and

such things are practiced, the story would be different.

Rather than the processional being led by the highest

ranking person present, such as the priest, bishop, or

archbishop, at the head of the line will usually be

children.

Often, these children will

enter first and light the candles. Following them are

members of the laity, often children or youth, who carry

crosses, the Bible, banners, and whatnot.

Behind them comes the

singers and musicians, followed by readers of the

scriptures. Then, those who serve as commissioned

ministers march in, followed by the deacons, who are

followed by the priest. If a bishop or archbishop is

present, they enter dead last.

All of this is to put into

focus the teaching that Jesus gave his disciples

regarding servant leadership. He said, of the children,

"of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Of those

who would desire to be great, he said, "the first

shall be last and the last shall be first." He also

shared that whoever would be great in God's Kingdom must

be the "servant of all." In this day of

"he who dies with the most wins," it is still a

good reminder.

Some years ago, I contacted

a "famous" Christian speaker to speak at the

church I was serving. He would come for one service only,

on an off night, for the princely sum of $6,000. This was

almost 18 years ago, so it really was a great deal of

money. He demanded a suite, not a hotel room, fresh fruit

each morning, a limo to pick him up at the airport, and

an attendant that would be assigned to him to tend to his

every whim.

We decided to politely tell

him that he could... well, there's no polite way to say

it. Anyway, we choose not to have him come.

Through the years, I have

met other demanding, arrogant ministers who have

forgotten that they are the servants rather than the

served.

When I was 32, and in a new

church, my denominational official called me, welcomed me

to the state and invited me to lunch in a few days. I

gushed my appreciation. I had never been shown attention

though I had very little money, and bought a new suit.

Two days later, I drove the 90 miles to his office to

meet with him. He greeted me warmly, escorted me to the

parking lot, took me to a very nice restaurant, and let

me order whatever I wanted. I felt so important!

Then, after lunch was

ordered, he leaned over the table and said quietly,

"Brother Epps, you need to know that this office has

loaned your church $5,000. You need to pay it back as

soon as you can."

My heart sank. We only had

about $5,800 in the church account and now that was to be

emptied. I drove the 90 miles back home in a funk. When

my wife asked me how lunch was, I said, "It's the

most expensive meal I've ever eaten." The loan was

paid by the end of the week and I was never invited to

lunch again.

know leaders who have a different approach. One of my

sons was going through a personal difficulty last year.

He called my bishop and the bishop set an appointment.

Then, the bishop drove the 110 miles round trip to where

my son was located, rather than demanding he come to the

office.

Two years ago, I called my

archbishop to seek an appointment with him. His office is

about seven hours driving time one way but I really

needed to see him. The next day, his secretary returned

my call. The archbishop had rescheduled an airline flight

so that he would have a five-hour layover in Atlanta. I

picked him up at Hartsfield Airport, we went to lunch,

and he spent the entire five hours with me. He paid for

lunch and never even asked me for any money. I was moved.

A few weeks ago, the bishop

of South Carolina visited our church. As time neared for

the service, I realized that the bishop was nowhere to be

found. I went in search of him and found him in the

foyer, busily folding bulletins for the service.

Servant leadership has its

downside. A member of our congregation had vehicle

trouble and I offered to take him to work the next day.

Then he shared that I would need to be at his home at

4:30 a.m.! Yow! As the clock alarmed at 4:08 the next

morning I shouted, "Servanthood stinks!"

Maybe that's why so few

leaders want to truly be servants. Anyway, that's why the

Church makes these guys go last in the line. It's a

reminder to them, and to us, that true greatness is found

in humility, in deferring to others, and in choosing to

serve, rather than to be served.

[Father

David Epps is founding rector of Christ the King Church.

He may be contacted at P. O. Box 2192, Peachtree City, GA

30269, or online at [email protected].

<!-------------