A fellow I once worked with is now the press secretary for a very powerful political figure – someone you’d know if I “dropped” the name. (I won’t.) He and I were hired on the same day to do similar jobs at a large law firm. He went on, apparently to greater things. I just went on.

My former co-worker handles the affairs of people with influence – and that makes him a person of some influence, as well. Because when powerful people virtually eliminate direct access to themselves, the ones who have it are somehow elevated to a special status of their own.

It’s odd, isn’t it, that one of the hallmarks of power is distance? Few people who have achieved notoriety or power are without “horse-holders,” handlers and other hangers-on. They seem to come with the territory. The powerful don’t fly coach or carpool. They have limos. Drivers. Schedulers. Personal assistants. They occupy corner offices and frequent executive washrooms. They don’t answer their own phones. Ever. Many rarely place their own outgoing calls.

So, how did the busiest, most in-demand, most powerful person who ever lived deal with the pressures and pulls of notoriety? He got twelve men to travel with him. But they weren’t bodyguards or handlers. He called them friends. Sometimes they got confused about their role and tried to “screen” out the nobodies who hungered for their teacher’s eye – but He seldom stood for it. He welcomed children. He spoke to “questionable” women in public. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He let sick men and women reach out and touch him without worrying about infection, or lawsuits. And when they tried to protect him from the soldiers who finally came to arrest Him, He presented Himself openly. He didn’t hide behind anyone – not even those who would have gladly “covered” for Him.

I’m not a powerful person. I probably shouldn’t be. I think coach is a tad confining, and could quickly adapt to first class. I don’t have a secretary, but even now I sometimes employ caller ID in a defensive mode. And the idea of my own ladies’ room doesn’t sound half bad.

But if I ever do become a person of influence, I pray I’ll remember this: the One who should have denied me access gave it. The One who could have refused my call took it. The One who by all rights could have demanded my death gave me life. And today – right now – He’ll hear my request without a handler standing between us.

Now isn’t that something?

“Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges.” (Philippians 2, The Message)

©2003 Leigh McLeroy