Jesus Loves the Little Children

Mark 10:13-16

July 6, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

I recently heard Max Lucado say that when you’re a grandpa, you get to share grandchild stories in sermons. So since Max Lucado said it, I’m going to go with it. One of the best parts about being a grandpa is that you get to experience again life through the eyes of a child. When Easton hangs out at our house, life changes, the pace of life changes, because everything happens on Easton’s schedule and at his pace. And children, especially little ones like him, aren’t in a hurry to get things done. They will go from thing to thing but they don’t have an agenda, and they don’t worry about accomplishing things. They just want to experience everything. And so I am learning (again) to experience life at the speed and through the eyes of a child, and I’m remembering what Jesus said in this morning’s Scripture reading: “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” (10:15). So hanging out with Easton and other children is what I call “kingdom training.”

This morning is the second week in our series leading up to our annual Vacation Bible School, or VBS, “Live It Out.” During these weeks, we’re exploring the stories and themes that our kids are going to learn during VBS because, I believe, these stories and lessons are not just for kids. We need to hear them, too. So last week, Pastor Rick kicked things off by reminding us that we are to “love one another,” which, as we’ve been saying frequently lately, is something we need to hear in the world we live in right now. Truly, what the world needs now is love. But we also need to hear a message Jesus gave earlier in his ministry. Not only do we “live it out” (our faith) by loving others; we also “live it out” by learning again how to “be kind to one another.”

It is rather late in Jesus’ ministry; Mark has him in Judea, southern Israel, on his way to Jerusalem. In fact, at the beginning of the next chapter in Mark’s Gospel we have the Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem. So Jesus is somewhere along the way, maybe in Jericho, but he is at a point in his ministry where he is well-known, popular, even famous. Say “Jesus of Nazareth” and people knew who you are talking about. Some want to celebrate him and some want to eradicate him, but everyone knows his name. So it’s no surprise that when the opportunity presents itself, as it does on this day, that parents bring their children to Jesus and ask him to lay hand on them and bless them. This is an ancient custom, going way back to Genesis, where a blessing is passed on to the next generation by laying hands on the person’s head. It’s similar, of course, to what we do with children when we dedicate or baptize them today. It’s an ancient practice that continues into the present.

So these parents are bringing their children, and as you might guess, it couldn’t have been quiet. Children aren’t quiet. It’s not in their nature. So I picture a noisy crowd making their way through the streets, maybe picking up others as they go. They’ve heard Jesus is in town and they want his blessing because he’s a famous rabbi, teacher. Unfortunately, the disciples notice this gathering crowd, and they think Jesus is far too busy and much too important to be bothered by these children. In their role as Jesus’ bodyguards, without checking with Jesus, they tell the parents, “Take them away.” In the first century, children were more like property than part of the family. They had no status, so social standing, nothing to offer anyone who was set on getting ahead in the world (cf. Walt, The Gospel of the Holy Spirit, pg. 170; Lane, The Gospel of Mark [NICNT], pg. 361). Certainly, children were understood to be a blessing (cf. Psalm 127:3-5), and of course the primary way of continuing the family line, but they were not supposed to interfere with “important, adult things,” like the teaching of a rabbi. So the disciples were only doing what they thought was right, keeping the children out of Jesus’ way. Little did they know how angry they were making Jesus.

Mark says, “When Jesus saw this, he was indignant” (10:14). It’s probably important to remind you at this point that Mark is mainly the remembrances of Peter, the leader of the disciples. Knowing what we know about Peter, he was probably one of the main ones shooing the kids away, so it’s likely he felt the brunt of Jesus being “indignant.” And that word isn’t just Jesus was a little upset. One scholar defines what Jesus was feeling as “on the verge of being infuriated” (Walt 170) or “about to lose his religion.” He’s miffed (McKnight, Mark, pg. 177); he’s angry. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. And part of me thinks he’s wondering, “When are these disciples going to get it?”

Maybe it’s through clenched teeth and with a deep breath that he says the next part: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (10:14). Don’t they remember that just a chapter before Jesus was holding a child in his arms? That time he had said welcoming a child was the same as welcoming him (9:36-37). And don’t they remember how seriously Jesus takes someone causing a child to stumble? He said if you do harm to a child you should have some cement overshoes put on and be dropped into the sea (9:42). How did they miss it? Jesus loves the little children, just like the song says. No wonder he’s indignant.

So Jesus says two things about children and the kingdom in this passage. First he says the kingdom belongs to them. I don’t know how old the children were that were brought to Jesus, but the word that Mark uses indicates a very small child, maybe a toddler or even an infant. “Little children” (10:13). Not teenagers, and probably not even tweenz. To them, Jesus says, the kingdom “belongs.” Now I want you to try to put yourself in the crowd that day, maybe as one of the important religious leaders who were always around, maybe as one of the parents or maybe even as one of the disciples, and imagine what it would feel like to be told that the kingdom of God, this thing you’ve been waiting on and anticipating all your life, doesn't belong to people like you. It belongs to children—value-less, status-less children.

You would probably ask, “Why?” I would. It’s because children know how to receive. Notice Jesus doesn’t say we claim the kingdom and we don’t “earn” the kingdom; it’s not something we can grab onto. The kingdom is something we “receive” (10:15); we have to come with open hands to receive it. And that leads to the second thing Jesus says about children and the kingdom in this short passage: if you’re going to enter the kingdom of God, you have to receive it like a little child. Think about how little ones receive things. For one, they are completely dependent upon their parents or caregivers for everything. They can’t work, they can’t earn, they can’t achieve. Whatever they have is given to them, from the very basics like food and water and clothing to things like toys and a house to live in. Everything they have is a gift, and usually, generally, they receive those things willingly (cf. Lane 361). Offer a child a toy or a snack and it’s unlikely they will turn you down. They might end up not liking the snack, but they will receive it. Jesus says that’s how those who follow him should be: trusting, receiving whatever it is he has to offer, whatever he gives us. We trust him to give us what we need (cf. McKnight 178; Kernaghan, Mark [IVPNTC], pg. 194).

Those with status, however, demand things we want. We’re not content with what we need. When we have status, when we think we have achieved success all on our own, we don’t think we need anyone else and we don’t have to trust anyone else to give us what we need. We can buy it, we can earn it, we can get it by ourselves, thank you very much. We know that Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35), which is true, but it’s also true that it is harder to receive than to give (cf. McKnight 178). I mean, think about when someone gives you a gift. What’s the immediate feeling you have in your gut? For most of us, it’s not “thank you,” it’s more like, “Oh no, now I need to get them something.” If someone brings you a meal, you begin to think that you owe them one and it has to be of equal or greater value, right? We say we’re not trying to outdo the other person, but we really are because it’s harder to receive than to give.

However, Jesus says his disciples receive the kingdom like a little child. It’s a gift, and to be part of God’s kingdom means we have to become childlike, giving up our status and our ideas of our own self-importance. However, being childlike is different than being childish. Because despite children being so much better at receiving than we are, they don’t always act well. Sometimes little ones throw a fit, demand their own way, refuse to be comforted. And sometimes adults do as well, acting in childish ways. That is not what Jesus is talking about here. He’s talking about the ways children gratefully receive and the ways they trust, the ways they don’t care about status or accomplishments. They are happy just to be welcomed and loved. That’s how we enter the kingdom of God.

So how do we become like a child? You might remember Nicodemus asking Jesus a question like that when Jesus told him he had to be born again to see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus said, “How can someone be born when they are old?” (John 3:4). We might ask the same question. How can we become like a child when we are old? How do we approach the world differently when we know so much more than a child does? I want to suggest three things this morning, three ways we can approach being childlike, and the first is that we approach Jesus and his kingdom with open hands. If our hands are closed, if we make a fist and demand this or that, then we can’t receive that Jesus has to offer. Don’t you picture these little children coming to Jesus with their hands open, wanting him to pick them up and hold them? But, obviously, in terms of the kingdom of God, we’re not talking about our physical hands; those are more of a symbol of our heart attitude. The way we approach God’s kingdom like a child is by realizing we’re not in control of it. That’s hard, isn’t it? We like to be in control. We want to make our own decisions, drive our own car, make our own plan and path in life. The American dream is to run your own business so that you are in charge, you are in control. But the kingdom of God doesn’t work like that. We are, in fact, very much not in charge. We are not the king; God is in charge. And that means, then, that we don’t get to decide how the kingdom runs, what is right and wrong, who is in or out, or who gets blessed. He does. I think of this every time I read Scripture. There are things in the Bible that I don’t like very much. There are things that seem unfair. There are things that don’t line up with the majority opinion in the world today. So some people play “pick and choose” with the Scriptures. This part I like, this part I don’t so I’ll ignore all the parts I don’t like and only follow the parts I do like. That’s not how the kingdom of God works. If God is the king, he gets to set the rules and the parameters and define how life works. Our part is to come to him with open hands, like a child.

The second thing flows from having open hands, and that is being willing and waiting on Jesus. A posture of trust and openness says to Jesus, “I am willing to do whatever you ask me to do, and I will wait for you to show me the way before I charge in on my own.” Because I don’t know about you, but I find when I charge in on my own, I usually make a mess of things. I’ve been learning a lot lately about waiting through listening prayer. I realized I had developed a pattern of using my daily prayers to tell God what to do. And it was pretty much the same things every day. Here’s what I’m praying for, Lord, and here’s how you can answer it. And one morning not too long ago it was like God said to me, “How about you let me get a word in here?” If I’m going to learn to wait and be willing, I need to stop talking and listen for God’s direction. Like a child who calls out for a parent over and over again, I get quiet and I call on Jesus, saying his name. Then I get quiet again and listen. I don’t hear a loud, booming voice like in the movies, but I do sense the things he wants to give me. Peace. Contentment. Direction for the day. Whatever it is, the challenge for me is waiting and calling on my heavenly Father. That is how I’m learning to trust more deeply and follow more closely.

And then thing number three is actually doing what Jesus does to the children in this story: blessing others. Mark says Jesus “took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them” (10:16). When I have pictured that in the past, it’s been kind of like Jesus touched their head and said, “Bless you.” Kind of like we do sometimes. Not much more to it. But the word Mark uses to describe the blessing is euloego, from which we get our word “eulogy.” What is a eulogy? It’s what people share at a funeral, telling you all the good things about the person who has died. It’s a tribute of sorts, but more it’s encouraging the living to carry on the good things about their friend or family member who has died. In this context, then, obviously Jesus is not speaking about someone who has passed; he’s speaking into the life of each child. With that understanding, I now picture Jesus looking each child in the face, maybe tousling their hair, and calling out good things that are already in them. “Johnny, you’re a kind person. Mary, you have a good heart. Simon, you are so obedient to your parents.” And maybe on and on it went, as long as there were children waiting on him. Jesus called out the good in each one as he blessed them.

And we can and should do the same thing. Our bottom line this morning is this: “Be kind to one another,” and while there are many kind things we can do for and to each other, perhaps the kindest thing we can do is to call out the best in our friends and family and church family. The unfortunate thing about a eulogy is that the person who is being honored doesn’t get to hear it—well, at least as far as we know. What if we took time to speak kind words to our children and grandchildren, the people we work with and the people we encounter in our daily lives? What if we made an effort to call out the best in each other? What if we sought to call out the best even in the ones who rub us so much the wrong way? Social media has made us cranky people. I’ve watched as social media has gone from a place where we shared pictures of our families and our food to where it’s now a constant barrage of complaints. I have a friend who does nothing online except complain and comment on current events. I have to say: I don’t know a single person who has ever said to me, “You know what? That Facebook post completely changed my viewpoint.” What happens instead is that friendships are ruined and relationships are destroyed. What if instead of complaints and crankiness we called out the best in others? What if we blessed instead of cursed? What if we did what Jesus did and sought to be kind to one another, from the youngest to the eldest? What kind of world would we have if even just we Christians tried to be like Jesus?

One of my favorites stories has to do with a young man named Charlie, who was in a miserable state, depressed, discouraged and despairing of life. Nevertheless, one Sunday morning he set out to go to church on Sunday even though there had been a snowstorm. He ended up at a Primitive Methodist Church, mainly because the snow was so bad that he couldn’t go any further. He sat down in a the small congregation; maybe a dozen had shown up. Most had not made it because of the snow, including the preacher. But when the time came, someone had to preach, and so a thin, unassuming man got up and read the Scripture text for the day. Charlie said the sermon was terrible, and the man didn’t even pronounce most of the words right. After about ten minutes, the man ran out of anything more to say, and that’s when he spied Charlie. Looking right at him, the man said, “Young man, you look miserable.” Charlie was, and the man went on, saying, “Young man, look to Jesus Christ. Look! Look! Look! You have nothin’ to do but to look and live!” Suddenly, Charlie realized it was so simple and as he looked to Christ, he began to have hope in his heart. He began a real relationship with Jesus at that moment, and because this unknown preacher called out the best in him, untold numbers of other people also found Jesus. Charlie is better known as Charles Haddon Spurgeon, one of the most well-known, most effective preachers of a generation or two ago. Spurgeon is sometimes called “the prince of preachers,” and his ministry touched untold numbers of people all because a simple man dared to bless him, to call out the best in him. What might happen if we did the same to those in our lives? Who might be the next Spurgeon in whose life we make a difference? Maybe one of our children at VBS this year. Maybe a child in your home. Be kind to one another. Bless one another and the world without a doubt will be changed.

So, this morning, as we come to the communion table, I want to encourage you to try something out. Instead of chit chatting as we usually do while others take communion, try blessing someone today. Maybe it’s the person sitting next to you, or someone way across the sanctuary. Maybe it’s one of our children who will be joining us for communion. My heart will be happy if, during these next few moments, not only are we sharing in holy communion, but we are also blessing one another, calling out the best in one another, being kind to one another. You may not think you have the words, but I bet even if you stumble over what you see, you will still bless a heart and a life. Try it—bless someone by calling out the good you see in them. That kind of kindness might even become a habit!

But before we do that, let’s prepare our hearts for holy communion. Will you join me in prayer?