At his inaugural Mass as Bishop of Rome, Pope Leo XIV articulated what he saw as the heart of his ministry: “[Peter] is called to serve the faith of his brothers and sisters and to walk alongside them, for all of us are ‘living stones’ (1 Peter 2:5), called through our baptism to build God’s house in fraternal communion, in the harmony of the Spirit, in the coexistence of diversity.”
Pope Leo’s emphasis on servant leadership and the recognition of others as co-builders in the mission and unity of the church struck me as profoundly fitting—not only for the Vicar of Christ, but for all who serve generously and quietly within our parishes. These often-unseen saints form the living foundation of the church in Australia, a church which remains deeply rooted in parish life.
In a more personal context, Pope Leo’s words evoked the example of my father. Though he claims no formal religious affiliation, he has, through quiet suffering and steadfast generosity, modelled for me the very essence of servant leadership. His life has given form to the ideals that the pope described—leadership expressed not in dominance but in self-giving love.
Several years ago, my father was diagnosed with a severe respiratory condition that brought him close to death. In 2023, he spent nearly three months confined to a bed in Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. His recovery was slow, uncertain, and marked by considerable suffering. Yet, in the mystery of God’s providence, a clear diagnosis finally emerged— pneumonia, concealed beneath a complex web of symptoms. With appropriate treatment, he began to recover and, to our astonishment, eventually regained enough strength to return to the rhythms of ordinary life: dancing once more with my mother and even sharing in the joy of travelling together again.
What moved me most, however, was not merely my dad’s physical endurance, but the strong spirit of service that surfaced in his recovery. One early morning, as I dropped by my parents’ home, I found him already dressed and heading out for the day, to volunteer at the respiratory ward at Westmead Hospital. There he walked alongside patients struggling with the same breathlessness he had known. He offered more than practical support; he brought presence, empathy, and a quiet hope and encouragement born of shared suffering.
In its own way, for me it captured the essence of servant leadership, not as a role or designation but a response to the gift of renewed life. Born not of strength but of vulnerability, servant leadership is a gift shaped by love and offered in gratitude for what has been received. This kind of leadership is needed in the church now more than ever.
The Christian story shows us that servant leadership so often begins in obscurity—in the backwaters of Galilee, among the everyday fisherman of this world, among the tax collectors, tentmakers and widows, the shepherd boys overlooked by their own families, the barren women who dared to hope, the prophets who trembled at their call, and the carpenters who shaped wood long before they shaped history.
Christ’s model remains clear to us today, “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mk 10:45). The wider culture can often associate the influence of leadership with visibility or the ability to control others. Christ reveals a different way—leadership grounded in humility, lived in daily acts of love. This can be preparing meals for the sick, offering a listening ear, praying for the renewal of our own parish, leading our families with faith, and bringing the Gospel into the concerns and challenges of everyday society.
This kind of witness and leadership rarely draws headlines or applause, but it is intimately known to God, and it is known to Jesus who came to serve.
It is important to affirm that such Christ-centred and Christ-shaped leadership is not sustainable by willpower alone. It flows from an abiding encounter with the Lord, in the Eucharist, the Scriptures and the faces of those we serve. Without him, our service becomes performance; with him, it becomes an expression of spiritual communion with God.
This reflection brought me to a crucial distinction to be made in parish life that I think is worth making—the difference between the call to serve and volunteering. While the church is blessed by countless acts of generosity, Christian leadership is not merely about “helping out”. It is most deeply understood as answering a call. As Fr James Mallon has noted in his own reflection on leadership, it is not about what time we can spare, but about what Christ is asking of us.
Volunteering typically begins on our terms while a sense of vocation and call reorders our lives. True servant leaders do not ask, “What do I feel like doing?” or “What time or energy can I spare?” but “What does God ask of me?” This is why servant leadership can be demanding for it requires discernment and surrender. It is a response not of convenience but of conviction grounded in faith.
As we nurture a culture of evangelisation in Sydney, we are invited to move from a desire for volunteers to a culture of active discipleship, where service flows from our identity as baptised members of Christ’s body. As is often said, only disciples make disciples. And disciples lead not by obligation but by mission.
This service is not carried alone or reserved for virtuosos. The early church that we find in Acts of the Apostles grew not through lone efforts but through shared witness and mutual responsibility. As some parishes in Sydney have recognised, this invites us to form leadership teams, discern spiritual gifts through resources such as Called and Gifted courses, and empower others to step forward.
Catholics can often be modest to a fault and underestimate their own ability to help build God’s house, as the new pope puts it. Consider the apostles gathered in the Upper Room after the Resurrection—filled with fear and uncertainty. Had they waited until they felt fully ready or worthy, the mission of evangelising the world might never have begun. Instead, as Scripture reminds us, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8).
The sending of the Apostles was not contingent on their own strength or readiness, but on the Spirit’s empowering presence. As the saying goes, the Spirit does not call the equipped but equips the called. This truth invites each of us to step forward in faith, trusting that God’s Spirit is actively forming and strengthening us for the work to which we are called.
If we fail to serve and call others to serve, we may be refusing the very people God has offered for the renewal of our church. As Paul reminds us, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion” (Phil 1:6). In this promise we find our courage to serve and invite others into God’s mission.
May we find the courage to echo the words of the prophet Samuel: “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening” (1 Sam 3:10). It is in this posture of listening and in the spirit of humble service that the church is truly renewed—not by programs or strategies alone, but through disciples who lead with humility, sustained by hope, and filled with the joy of encountering Christ.