And they brought to him also infants that he might touch them, but the disciples when they saw [it] rebuked them.
This scene follows straight on from the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Now it is not sinners but babies that people bring to Jesus, and the disciples wave them away — which raises the real question of the passage: who matters enough to be worth the Lord's time?
The chapter has just taught the humility of knowing you are a sinner. This next scene teaches a second humility: the humility of being of no importance at all.
It is the lowliness of real insignificance, as the former was because of sinfulness. Who would be troubled with beings of such little consequence? Not the disciples, but Jesus. The Lord delighted in them, and that is the spirit of the kingdom of God.
The tax collector who humbled himself has been lifted up; the Pharisee who exalted himself has been brought low. And now they bring babies to Him so that He may touch them, and the disciples — too much like the Pharisees in spirit — rebuke them for doing so... Where God is known and rules, man must shrink into the nothingness that is his by nature.
Luke's word is not the general word for children. It marks the very youngest, and the details the other Gospel writers add show how far the Lord went beyond what was asked.
Luke, the doctor, tells us that they were "new-born babes" (brephos). Mark often records the small details of our Lord's look, or tone, or act. He tells us that Jesus took them up in His arms, put His hands on them, and blessed them. Here the Spirit of God uses a very strong word for bless. It is kept for these little children alone, and used in no other place in the New Testament. It might be translated, He "blessed them with all His heart."
The disciples' fault went deeper than bad manners. By turning people away, they acted as though they decided who may come to Him.
They revealed their own Rabbi-like self-importance, which makes much of ceremony and much of knowledge, and overlooks the power of grace and the open showing of divine affections. But there was more. They took His place. They misrepresented Him, and the God of all grace who sent Him, and the true character of that kingdom He was about to set up.
Mark says the Lord was indignant. Writers point out that this is the only place in the New Testament where that strong word describes Him. It was aimed at His own followers, for keeping little ones away.
The Lord does not just allow the children through. He makes them the pattern for everyone who enters.
The babies were of great value in the eyes of Jesus, though not in the eyes of the disciples... Neither the Son nor the Father looks down on the weak, who plainly depend on others. And that is not all: "to such belongs the kingdom of God." Those who enter His kingdom must by grace receive the Saviour and His word as a child receives the word of its parents. Self-reliance has no place. Dependence on God takes its place, felt in the sense of our own nothingness.
This turns the natural expectation upside down. Growth is not the entry requirement.
Mere babies do not count in the world's scheme of things, but the kingdom consists of such as these. We would have thought the baby must reach up to adult stature to enter. It is the reverse: the grown man must reach down to the baby's level to enter. The first way might have suited the law of Moses, but grace is the question here.
These parents did the one thing they could: they carried their children to Jesus. What we want for them when we come decides what follows.
If we bring them wanting them to stand out and be admired, so that our natural pride and pleasure in them grows... we have no ground for expecting the Lord to act. If we bring them so that He may meet their desperate need and carry their blessing through, He will hear us... We may be Jews or Gentiles, people of little faith or faulty faith, or strong faith. We may even be so overcome by grief that we say nothing out loud. It is all the same... He will deliver. He will bless. He will do it in His own time... and do it tenderly, even taking them up in the arms of His love to bless them.
- Smallness qualifies. After the humility that owns sin comes the humility of being nobody; the babies are Luke's picture of it.
- Smallness draws Him. They asked for a touch; He gathered them up and blessed them with a word used nowhere else.
- Smallness offends men. The disciples' rebuke put them in His place and misrepresented the God who sent Him.
- Smallness is the door. No one grows up into the kingdom; the grown must come down to the level of a babe.
- Smallness is your warrant. Weak faith, or none you can voice, is no barrier — bring the child anyway.
But Jesus calling them to [him] said, Suffer little children to come to me, and do not forbid them, for of such is the kingdom of God.
Just before this scene Jesus told of a Pharisee and a tax collector. Now parents bring their babies to Him, and His own disciples turn them away. His answer shows what He thinks of the smallest and least useful people. It also shows who fills the kingdom of God.
The parable before this exposed pride about sin. This scene exposes pride about size. One writer links the two.
The incident that follows (v. 15-17) shows this even more. They brought infants to Jesus, so that He would touch them. It is the lowliness of real insignificance, as the former was because of sinfulness. Who would bother with beings of such little consequence? Not the disciples, but Jesus. The Lord delighted in them, and that is the spirit of the kingdom of God.
Luke's wording, and the parallel accounts, show how young these children were and how strongly Jesus reacted to those who blocked them.
Luke, the doctor, tells us that they were "new-born babes" (Brephos)… Mark tells us that He took them up in His arms, put His hands on them, and blessed them. Here the Spirit of God uses a very strong word for bless. It is kept for these little children alone, and used nowhere else in the New Testament. It could be translated, He "fervently blessed them." And when the disciples rebuked these mothers, Mark tells us that the Lord was "much displeased." Again the Spirit uses a very strong word, meaning "grieved, indignant, and angry"… But only once do we ever find this word used of our Lord. It was towards His own disciples, when they tried to hinder the mothers bringing their little ones to Him. There is a very grave lesson for us in this word.
Since the babies were being carried, "coming" here is not something they did by their own decision. One writer presses this against those who read it as an appeal for faith.
"Let the children come to Me," He says. Here that undeniably means "let them be brought," since they were being brought. And, one would have thought, it just as undeniably did not mean "let them believe on Me"(!)… Can he mean that the disciples were trying to hinder the babies from believing on Jesus?
Commentators differ on how much weight this phrase carries. Some read it mainly as a description of character — the kingdom belongs to people marked by a child's dependence. Others hold that it places the children themselves inside the kingdom, and they draw a line between the kingdom and the Church.
If we lack a real concern for the most helpless and dependent of God's creatures, we do not truly know the heart of God. The disciples showed their ignorance of God's heart when they rebuked those who brought infants to the Lord for His blessing. But it was the disciples who needed the rebuke. He called those who brought the children, for it seems they were already going away because of the disciples' rebuke. He encouraged the little ones to come to Him, "for to such belongs the kingdom of God." So there is no question that families of believers have their place in the kingdom of God. We could not say the same of the Assembly of God, the Church. Everyone in the Church must be born again and have the Spirit of God living in them.
Entry into the kingdom runs the opposite way from what we expect.
Mere babies do not count in the world's scheme of things, but such as these make up the kingdom. We would have thought the baby must grow up to full size to enter. It is the other way round: the full-grown man must come down to the baby's size to enter. The former might have suited the law of Moses, but grace is in question here.
What the Lord said to those parents was not the end of it. One writer turns it into a direct appeal.
You will remember the words of the Lord Jesus Christ: "Let the children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God." Well, that same blessed Saviour is still calling the little ones. He wants to have them in His own home, where there is nothing but brightness and joy, and you are among the ones He wants. Have you answered to His call?
- Small. These were newborn babies with nothing to offer. The disciples judged them not worth the Master's time.
- Displeased. Scripture records the Lord's indignation only once: against disciples who kept children from Him. There is a grave lesson in that.
- Carried. "Let the children come" means "let them be brought." Nobody asked the babies to qualify. Others simply carried them to Jesus.
- Belonging. "To such belongs the kingdom" — commentators read this either as the kingdom's character or as a real place for the children in it. The Church stays distinct.
- Downward. Nobody grows up into the kingdom; the grown man must come down to the baby's size, and that call still goes out.
Verily I say to you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.
These words close a scene where parents bring babies to Jesus and the disciples try to send them away. From that small moment Jesus draws a rule about who gets into the kingdom of God at all. The question is not what a child is, but what a child does not bring — and why nothing else counts in its place.
This saying sits between two other stories. One writer reads all three as one long attack on the same enemy: self.
The whole context shows self being set aside for the kingdom of God — self in any form you please. The parable rules out self-righteousness. The blessing of the little children rebukes self-importance. And in the rich ruler, self — in the shape of pleasant nature, good moral habits, high position and large possessions — is treated as null and void. The greatest advantages, humanly speaking, of flesh and world are a hindrance, not a help, to the kingdom.
Sin humbled the tax collector in the parable just before this one. The child pictures something different — being small rather than being guilty.
It is the lowliness of being insignificant, while the earlier one came from sinfulness. Who would be bothered with beings of such little consequence? Not the disciples, but Jesus. The Lord delighted in them, and that is the spirit of the kingdom of God. And here too a general moral rule comes out. If a man is to enter that kingdom, all confidence in self must be broken down. He must receive the truth simply, as a little child listens to its mother. If it is not so, God and man have not their place. When He speaks, all I have to do is listen.
The likeness is not innocence. It is the absence of the suspicion that adults pick up along the way.
There was sin in the children, of course. But they showed what God had created — the trustfulness of a child, without the distrust that grows up with a person. The world lives in distrust, miserable at root, but that is not the case with a child. It has no distrust, but a readiness to believe everything — it often gets cheated. And the Lord says that is what He likes. Unless you receive the kingdom as a child you will not enter it.
The verb is the hinge. A child given a gift adds nothing to it. One writer sets that against the question the rich ruler asks next.
A little child receives a gift and does nothing for it. This was the very opposite of the ministry of the law, yet completely true... Eternal life is now the gift of God to those who, like a little child, do nothing for it; otherwise it would not be a gift. After the announcement of this new fact, a certain ruler puts a question that goes to the root of it. He asks, "What good deed must I do to have eternal life?" ... The kingdom of God must be received like a little child receives it, and not by a man who keeps commandments.
A kingdom has a king, and that shapes who fits inside it.
The Lord closed this subject with a declaration. The kingdom is not for self-important men. It is opened only to those who enter as little children. The lowliness of honest, dependent faith is essential in the kingdom of God. In the kingdom you have to do with God. The kingdom is the sphere where God's authority is supreme. So it calls for a spirit of unquestioning submission and obedience.
Ability gives no shortcut here. And this child-like spirit turns out to be the same thing as faith.
It was not only that little children had a warm welcome with Jesus, but that we must all in spirit become little children. The wisest man on earth, with the sharpest mind and the highest achievements, must become a little child to have anything to do with Jesus... Someone may be puzzled and say, How is this? Are we not often told that salvation is by faith? That whoever believes in the Lord Jesus Christ has salvation and eternal life? How then do these blessings here depend on my becoming a little child? They are simply two different ways of presenting the same thing. Faith is this child-like spirit that each must have if he is to enter the kingdom of God. It is not that little children are good and that we must become good like them. Children are sinners and need the Saviour.
- Small. The child pictures the lowliness of being insignificant, not just the lowliness of a guilty conscience.
- Trusting. Christ points to the trust that has not yet learned the world's distrust — a readiness to believe what it is told.
- Receiving. A child takes a gift and does nothing to earn it; that is why "receive" rules out the ruler's "what must I do?"
- Submitting. The kingdom is where God's authority is supreme. Entering means unquestioning dependence, not ability.
- Everyone. The sharpest mind on earth must come the same way. Becoming child-like is not an alternative to faith; it is faith.