In the quiet dawn of history, two paths of leadership emerged – one paved with force, the other with service. As we navigate our complex world today, the distinction between these paths has never been more critical to understand.

There are various kinds of leaders. Some lead by force, imposing their will upon others – the dictators of our world. Like towering oaks that block the sunlight from the forest floor, these leaders cast long shadows over those they rule and even claim to serve. The allegiance they elicit is not freely given but coerced, often by denying people’s fundamental rights. This style of leadership stands perpetually on precarious ground, always at risk of crumbling beneath the weight of popular uprisings. History’s pages are stained with the stories of such faltering regimes. Our own American story began this way – colonies under British rule where people, feeling unjustly treated and unfairly taxed, rose up against what they termed: tyranny. The soil of revolution is always fertilized by the seeds of oppression.

Then there exists another path – a less-traveled road that winds upward rather than outward. This preferable leadership is one that leads by example – the leadership of service to those in one’s charge. Like a candle that consumes itself to provide light for others, these leaders burn with purpose that transcends self-interest. We might call this the leadership of love – where the leader genuinely loves the people he serves, listens to their concerns, and seeks what is truly best for them. This rare and precious form of leadership echoes the words of Scripture: “No greater love does a person have than to lay down his life for his friend”( John 15: 13).

Our world today hungers desperately for such leadership. Yet confusion abounds, fueled by propaganda that clouds judgment. In this fog of competing voices, minds can be manipulated into following paths that ultimately harm rather than heal. This isn’t leadership but manipulation – using people rather than serving them.

The Catholic Church recently mourned the loss of Pope Francis, a remarkable leader precisely because of his Christ-like example. His leadership wasn’t proclaimed from golden thrones but demonstrated in washing prisoners’ feet, embracing the disfigured, and choosing simplicity over pomp. People responded not to his title but to his testimony – the lived witness of one who understood that greatness lies in service. As I was writing this blog, the Cardinals of the Catholic Church, in conclave, elected a successor to Pope Francis, Pope Leo XIV, the first American Pope. He has also been called to lead the Church according to the the model of Christ, the Good Shepherd. Let us keep him in our prayers.

The Good Shepherd is, perhaps, the most powerful image of authentic leadership in Scripture. Christ frequently returns to this image, drawing from it a portrait of perfect leadership. The Good Shepherd, as Christ pointed out, knows intimately his flock, and they in turn know him. They follow not out of fear but love, instinctively attuned to his voice and example. What many miss in this beautiful imagery is a cultural detail rich with meaning: In Semitic, shepherd culture, the shepherd didn’t drive the flock from behind with barks and sticks. No. He led from the front, with the sheep quietly followingly. The contrast couldn’t be clearer – willing allegiance is not achieved by forced compliance, but by love.

The shepherd’s role extended beyond mere guidance. He served as protector, placing himself between the flock and danger. Christ takes this imagery further, describing himself as “the gate” through which the sheep pass safely. When predators prowled, the shepherd literally became the barrier between life and death for his flock. This image directly applies to Jesus, Himself: “I am the Good Shepherd. I know my sheep, and my sheep know me, and I lay down my life for my sheep”( John 10: 11-18). In essence: “I know my people. My people know me. And I offer my life for them.”

The essence of true leadership is service, not transaction. It’s not about calculating what personal benefit might be extracted from followers. Like water that seeks the lowest place yet sustains all life, authentic leadership flows toward need rather than advantage. We must distinguish between those merely occupying leadership positions and those who are genuine leaders. The chasm between these realities stretches wide as heaven from earth. A real leader devotes himself entirely to those he serves. This is Christian leadership in its purest form.

While we often discuss leadership in grand political or ecclesiastical terms, the simple truth is that each of us is called to exercise true leadership. The parent guiding children, the teacher shaping minds, the nurse caring for patients – all exercise leadership that ripples outward in ways we seldom fully comprehend. I’m reminded of Betty Sullivan, an elderly parishioner who never held formal authority yet led her neighborhood through quiet acts of compassion. When illness struck a family, her casserole appeared on their porch. When children needed after-school supervision, her living room became their haven. Without title or recognition, she demonstrated leadership that transformed her community, one act of kindness at a time.

This servant-leadership isn’t an abstract ideal but a practical reality accessible to everyone. It manifests in daily choices: to place others’ needs before our comfort, to listen before speaking, to serve rather than demand service. It is manifested, not by dominance, but by example – the lived witness that inspires others to do the same, not because they must but because they witness something authentic and transformative.

As we navigate these challenging times, let us pray for all those in positions of authority – that they might discover the power of humble service. Leaders have power, but it is only safe in the hands of those who humble themselves to serve. In a world enamored by power, may we have the courage to embrace the towel and basin of service in our own lives. For, as Jesus said: “The greatest among us must always be the servant of all” (Matthew: 23: 11).

—Fr. Hugh Duffy, Ph.D.