I wonder if sometimes we can become a little bit proud of our humility. We know Jesus is the Shepherd, so we are sheep. We know He is Creator and so, appropriately, we bow as the creation. We recognize Him as King, and gladly we take our place in the kingdom as subjects. We own Him as Master, and so we willingly assume the lowly position of servant. Sheep . . . creation . . . subjects . . . slaves . . . all pretty humbling . . . pretty good on us, huh? See what I mean? But this morning I was struck by John the Baptizer’s response to those who asked him, “Who are you?”

They asked him, “Then why are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water, but among you stands one you do not know, even He who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.”   (John 1:25-27 ESV)

There are servants and then there are servants. There are those who serve in the master’s dining room, privileged to approach the table where the master sits and present him with his food. There are those who serve within the household . . . permitted access to all that the master has. There are those who serve in the field . . . given responsibility to labor in a way that provides great increase for the owner of the field. And then there’s the guy, or the gal, who gets to tie up and untie the master’s shoes.

Really? That was a job? Apparently so.

Can you imagine the qualifications and education you needed to be a sandal untier? Pretty much nothing. What about the standing such an occupation has in the community? Less a standing . . . not even a sitting . . . how about a low kneeling? What’s the reaction your child gets when he or she goes to school and tells the other kids what their daddy does for a living . . . “He unties the masters sandals . . . and most times even ties them back up!” Woo-hoo!!!

And John says, I am unworthy of such service considering the nature of the One I serve.

Oh to beware of a pride fueled by humility. To be on guard against feeling like I’m something in the world because I assume the place of being nothing in the presence of Christ. To fight the temptation to lift myself up among others because I bow down to the King of Kings.

My Savior is of such infinite, matchless holiness and purity that even to tend to His shoes is way above what I deserve or am qualified to do. To think that I can draw near to the feet of Him who dwells in unapproachable light (1Tim. 6:16) is privilege beyond measure. To be but a doorkeeper in the house of my God, if but even for a day, is better than a thousand elsewhere (Ps. 84:10).

My high and holy calling to the low and humble place is not something to boast in . . . it is something to marvel at.

That I might, like John the Baptizer, consider myself unworthy to be sandal untier.

That I might, like John the Baptizer, consider it privilege beyond privilege to serve the Master.

By His grace alone . . . for His glory alone . . . amen?