I’m a new elder.
For years, I’ve aspired to the office. I’ve memorized 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1. I’ve read books on eldership and attended elder meetings. But until recently, I’ve never actually served as an elder.
I’ve especially been reflecting on one parable as I begin. It’s probably not at the top of your “Scriptures for elder training” list—it certainly wasn’t on mine. But take a look at Luke 14:7–11, the parable of the wedding feast.
Not Just Banquet Etiquette
Luke 14 isn’t merely about banquet etiquette. Jesus exposes the quiet desire to seek honor from others and asserts that in his kingdom, the way up is down.
If you’re a new elder, you may feel tempted to prove yourself. Taking the low seat means resisting that urge. Here are three ways new elders can do that.
1. Speak less; listen more.
One of the most practical ways a new elder can take the low seat is with his words.
You’re likely eager. You finally sit at the table. You finally have a vote. Perhaps you’ve aspired to this for many years. As you listen, you notice things that could be improved. You have ideas. You have energy. You want to contribute. That desire isn’t wrong. But it can drift into something else: the urge to prove yourself.
In Jesus’s kingdom, the way up is down.
Proverbs 18:13 warns, “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.” Take time to hear—because you need time to understand. Don’t lose your eagerness. Just let your ears be more eager than your mouth. Hold back your “answers.” Listen long enough to learn.
In Jesus’s parable, the man who takes the high seat risks being told, “Friend, move down.” That’s not what you want to hear in your first year of eldership. You don’t want to be pulled aside after a meeting for responding too quickly, speaking too sharply, or offering solutions before you fully understand the problem.
If anything, you want the opposite. You want the other brothers to tell you, “Friend, move up higher. We’d like to hear what you think.”
In my previous church, a veteran elder advised new elders not to say anything in elder meetings for their first six months. That’s not a universal rule. Every elder board is different in size, experience, and culture. But the instinct is wise: As a new elder, assume you should speak less and listen more.
You may be more trained than some other elders, but they’ve been in the trenches of your church for years. They carry battle wounds you haven’t yet seen. They’ve buried members, counseled struggling marriages, and wept over prodigal children long before you sat at the table.
New elder, take the low seat—and for now, let your ears do the work.
2. Learn context, and assume the best.
Your elder work didn’t begin with you. And that’s a gift.
From ministry practices to staffing structures to budget lines, you’re stepping into decisions you didn’t make. Some of it may seem unclear to you. Perhaps even unwise.
But taking the low seat requires humility. Before you critique, learn the context. Before you propose a change, understand the history. Assume there are good reasons behind the decisions you’ve inherited, even if you don’t yet see them.
C. S. Lewis writes, “If you join at eleven o’clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said.” You’re entering a conversation that began long before you arrived. Learn what happened at eight, nine, and ten o’clock, and assume the best when you don’t yet understand.
In a recent meeting, a fellow new elder modeled this well. At several points, he asked, “Have we dealt with this in the past?” It’s a simple question, but it communicates humility. It says, “I may not know the whole story yet.”
In time, you may propose a change, and your ideas may prove helpful. But for now, take time to learn the context, and assume the best.
3. Remember your role.
You may be tempted to put too much weight on elder meetings. You may think of them as “the room where it happens,” to borrow a phrase from Hamilton.
But remember your role. Elders are shepherds, not shareholders. A shareholder walks into the meeting thinking, Now my work begins. But a shepherd walks out of the meeting thinking, Now my work begins.
Before you critique, learn the context. Before you propose a change, understand the history.
Peter exhorts elders to “shepherd the flock of God that is among [them]” (1 Pet. 5:2). The meeting is only a small part of the work. Pray for the flock. Feed them God’s Word. Pursue the wandering. Protect them from wolves. At the end of the day, the most important work in an elder meeting doesn’t concern the budget or the building. It concerns souls.
As a new elder, you’re not there to win arguments. If you’re there to feel important, you’ve already taken the wrong seat. Take the low seat by asking, “How are Joe and Mary doing?” Even more, by praying for them and inviting them over for dinner.
Care for souls. Be a shepherd. The meeting serves the ministry, not the other way around.
Look to the Chief Shepherd
You’re a shepherd, yes. But don’t forget: You’re an undershepherd. The church doesn’t belong to you. The honor isn’t yours to claim. Beware of self-exaltation. Jesus says, “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled” (Luke 14:11).
Taking the low seat doesn’t mean ignoring biblical conviction or becoming a “yes man.” It means choosing humility rather than grasping for honor. It means seeing your fellow elders as gifts, not rivals. It means remembering that the church belongs to Christ and acknowledging the price he paid for her.
Jesus didn’t merely teach us to take the low seat. He took it himself not at a banquet but at the cross. Though honor was rightly his, he didn’t grasp for it. If the Chief Shepherd took the lowest seat, how can his undershepherds reach for the highest?
In Christ’s kingdom, the way up is down. It’s true at wedding feasts. And it’s true in elder meetings.
The Gospel Coalition