How would you handle ultimate freedom in your job?
You wake up tomorrow the 8th richest person in the world.
You’re not Elon rich—don’t be crazy. Only a quarter of his wealth.
Still, everything would be at your fingertips. You run a successful company. Maybe two. You have global reach. A few other public companies have you sitting on their boards, adding some healthy compensation; and of course, you maintain a philanthropic arm for bragging rights (though you never say that). You pay a whole team to handle the mundane of your life. You set your schedule. You work on what matters to you. And, who cares if you accomplish it, because no one is going to lay you off.
What would you do? Anything you wanted, you held.
One person knew the feeling.
During Jesus’s last meal, there is this line that startles me: “[K]nowing that the Father had given all things into his hands . . . .” John 13:3
It’s impossible to comprehend what Jesus felt in that moment. I am sure it was nothing like being a billionaire. What certainty, security, peace Jesus must have embodied. Comfort, yet clarity and focus. But also, what power and strength and wealth came with this knowing—every subatomic particle, distant star, and stream of water his to command.
He could do anything. Ultimate freedom.
Jesus somehow chose something shocking.
When I think of what drives our work . . . what our goal setting does . . .why are we in a moment which seeks to optimize everything . . . why is discipline critical and necessary . . . what is it all for?
To accomplish more? Yes.
To rest more? Yes.
To earn more? Yes.
To work on what matters? Yes.
Bragging rights? Even if internally?
Jesus is different. At the pinnacle of his earthly power, he descends again. He chooses to serve.
Knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, he rose from supper and washed his followers’ feet.
What a paradox.
Reed Hastings (the founder of Netflix) tells a similar story. Thirty years ago, he’s sitting at a desk in an office coding software as a junior engineer. With long hours and late nights, Reed makes a mess of his desk leaving dirty coffee cups each day to clutter his station. Eventually, a janitor would wash his cups, giving him a fresh start. Typical office life.
One morning, Reed shows up before the sun. His desk is renewed, so he heads to the kitchen for a clean coffee cup. There, in front of the sink is the CEO of his company, washing Reed’s mugs.
“Are those my coffee cups?”
“Yeah”
“Have you been cleaning my cups all year?”
“Yeah. . . it’s the least I can do.”
As we climb, as we garner success, accomplish our goals, accumulate resources, we earn the freedom or the right to orchestrate our lives in any gratifying way that we please.
But, with the universe in his grasp, Jesus rose from supper. Leaving the comfort of conversation. Ignoring the excruciating task approaching him in the coming hours.
He does nothing productive.
He humbles himself to serve the people below him.
Floored by his CEO’s humility, Reed reflects: “I would follow this guy to the ends of the earth.”
There is something more beautiful at the top if you descend.