The Towel Before the Throne
The Towel Before the Throne
Tolu Olowoyeye · September 30, 2026
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On the last night before the cross, John records a detail he clearly wants us to sit with. Jesus, "knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands" (), got up from supper, laid aside His garments, wrapped a towel around His waist, and began to wash the disciples' feet. This was slaves' work, the lowest task in the house, reserved for the least person present. The Son of God did it, and John frames it with that astonishing clause: knowing all authority was already His.
We usually assume humility and greatness pull in opposite directions, that to serve is to shrink and to lead is to rise above the serving. Jesus dismantles that in a single act. He did not kneel because He had forgotten who He was. He knelt precisely because He knew exactly who He was. His identity was so settled that He had nothing to protect, nothing to prove, no rank to defend. That is what freed His hands to take the towel.
Insight: Insecurity climbs to be seen. Security stoops to serve. The most secure person in any room is usually the one willing to do what no one else will.
This is why so much of our reluctance to serve is really a crisis of identity. We resist the low task, the unseen role, the thing beneath our gifting, because some part of us still needs the room to affirm our importance. We cannot afford to bend low, because we are not yet sure we would still be somebody after we straightened up.
Jesus could. And He turns to the disciples afterwards and tells them plainly: I have given you an example; do as I have done. Kingdom greatness is not the absence of service. It is service that flows from a heart that no longer needs a throne to feel like a king.
The towel comes before the throne, always. Ask the one who wore both.
Pray this: Lord Jesus, settle my identity so deeply in You that I have nothing left to prove. Free my hands to take the towel. Let me find, in the lowest service, the greatness You called me to. Amen.
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