And he came to Capernaum, and being in the house, he asked them, Of what were ye reasoning by the way?
On the road to Capernaum the Lord had told His disciples that He would be handed over to men and killed. Now, indoors and away from the crowd, He asks what they had been talking about on that same road. Their silence answers Him. It raises the question the whole scene turns on: what happens when the desire to be great goes unjudged among God's people?
The Lord waits until they are indoors before He raises it. Where He corrects them matters as much as what He says.
While they were "on the way" with Him, they forgot whose disciples they were. Their Master was gentle and humble in heart. He was made a little lower than the angels. He had come, humbling Himself, not to be served but to serve. On the road to Capernaum the apostles argued hotly among themselves about which of them ranked first. The Lord rebuked them, but not publicly.
The disciples had just heard Him speak of His death, and it did not go in. One writer traces that to something already at work inside them.
At first sight how strange, yet how common, is this inability to enter into the words of Jesus! What causes it? Self unjudged. They were ashamed to let the Lord know the real reason, but the Lord brings it out... No wonder there was little power in the presence of Satan; no wonder there was little understanding in the presence of Jesus. There was a dead weight behind — this spirit of thinking of themselves, of wanting some distinction to be seen and known by men now.
On that road His mind was on the cross ahead. Theirs was on something else.
The Lord's heart was full of the sufferings that came with it, and of the cup He had to drink. It was full too of the need for His disciples to understand this path and to take up their cross. But what were the disciples' hearts full of? They were thinking about who should be the greatest. How incapable our heart is of receiving God's thoughts, of thinking about a Saviour humbled to death for us!
A question can do more than gather information.
He did not ask for information, for He knew everything. He asked so that they might feel the shame of what they had done. In His presence they were speechless. They were in the presence of the Lord of glory. He had veiled His divine glory and stooped down into lowly circumstances. He had just told them that the Son of Man would be killed and rise on the third day. And yet they argued about who should be greatest.
What they argued about that day did not stay in that day.
How often since that day the desire to be the greatest has been the real root of many a dispute among the people of God. Whatever the subject being discussed, underneath there has often been a great deal of self in the dispute. Self not only wants to be great, it wants to be "the greatest." If a believer wants to be the greatest, sooner or later that will lead to a dispute. In it he will seize on any small slip in a brother, to belittle him and so exalt self.
Their silence tests us too. The argument lived in one place and died in another.
Out of His presence they argued among themselves; in His presence they were silent with shame. So with us. Our quarrels and our empty pride only prove how little we have lived and walked with a conscious sense of His presence. Think of our difficulties and conflicts. How much of what we said and did could never have been said or done at all, if we had been aware that we were standing in the presence of the Lord!
Left alone, this rivalry does not stay small. One writer traces Peter's later fall back to it.
Peter's fall seemed to come very suddenly, but the rivalry among them shows us that the secret roots of it went a long way back into the past.
The Lord brought a hidden road-side argument into the light. One writer sees in that a small picture of a day still to come.
When we are safely housed, not in Capernaum but in heaven, will He not have good reason to say to us, "What were you discussing on the way? What is it that through all these centuries of My absence has caused so much contention and strife?"
- Cause. Self went unjudged in them, so the news of the cross meant nothing — "a dead weight behind."
- Contrast. His heart was full of the cup He had to drink; theirs was full of who would rank first.
- Exposure. He already knew the answer. He asked so that they would feel the shame of it.
- Reach. One root runs under most quarrels among God's people. Whatever the stated topic, someone wants to be great.
- Result. Argument lives away from His presence and dies in it. What we leave unjudged now, as with Peter, surfaces later.
And they remained silent, for by the way they had been reasoning with one another who [was] greatest.
Just before this, the Lord had spoken plainly about His coming death. On the road His twelve disciples argued about which of them ranked highest. In the house He asks what they were discussing, and their answer is no answer at all — they say nothing.
One writer sets the two conversations side by side: the Lord full of the cross, the disciples full of themselves.
The Lord's heart was full of the sufferings that this path brought. He thought of the cup He had to drink. He thought of how His disciples needed to understand this path and to take up their cross. But what filled the hearts of the disciples? They were thinking about who would be the greatest. How unable our heart is to take in God's thoughts, and to think of a Saviour humbled to death for us!
They could not take in what He said about His death. One writer ties that failure to the argument on the road.
They want to be something. This twists their judgment… At first it seems strange, yet how often it happens: they cannot take in the words of Jesus! Why? Because self is not judged… No wonder there was little power in the presence of Satan. No wonder there was little understanding in the presence of Jesus. A dead weight lay behind it all — this spirit of thinking about themselves, of wanting some distinction that others could see and know now. It was clear unbelief about what God feels, and what He is going to display, in His kingdom. For there is only one thought before God: He means to exalt Jesus.
The word translated "argued" carries more than one sense. One writer sets out its range:
The same word can mean "discussing" in general, or more exactly "reasoning", or even "arguing", as in Mark 9:34; Acts 17:2; Acts 24:12; Jude 9… Only the context can decide.
What they could say freely on the road, they could not repeat to His face.
Away from His presence they argued with one another; in His presence they were silent with shame. It is the same with us. Our quarrels and our empty pride only prove how little we have lived and walked with a real sense of His presence. Think of our difficulties and conflicts. If we had known ourselves to be standing before the Lord, we would never have said or done so much of it. In His presence we cannot think or talk about self.
Their silence was not stubbornness. Shame closed their mouths.
One writer treats this desire as the real root of many later disputes among God's people, and as a sign that they had missed what God's kingdom is for.
Ever since that day, how often the desire to be the greatest has been the real root of many a dispute among God's people. Whatever the question being discussed, underneath there has often been a great deal of self in the dispute. Self does not only want to be great; it wants to be "the greatest." If a believer wants to be the greatest, sooner or later it will lead to a dispute. In it, people seize on any little slip in a brother to belittle him and so exalt self. The very thought of being great shows how little the disciples understood the truth of the Kingdom. They failed to see that the Kingdom is there to display all that God is in love, righteousness, grace and power.
Two motives are named and separated: "Strife is the endeavour to belittle others; vainglory is the attempt to exalt self in the eyes of others."
The rivalry did not end that day. One writer traces Peter's later fall back to it.
Peter, full of self-confidence, claimed that he would not stumble, even if all the others did… What lay behind it was the unholy rivalry among them about who should be the greatest… Peter's fall seemed to come very suddenly, but all this shows us that its secret roots went back a long way into the past.
- Contrast. He was full of the cup He had to drink; they were full of who ranked highest — the same road, two different worlds of thought.
- Cause. Self left unjudged is why His plain words about death meant nothing to them. It twists the judgment and leaves little power and little understanding.
- Shame. Shame closed their mouths. What we say away from His presence, we cannot repeat in it.
- Root. Behind many quarrels among God's people is someone wanting to be the greatest. That wish seizes on a brother's smallest slip to belittle him.
- Consequence. Unjudged rivalry does not stay small — Peter's public fall had its secret roots in this argument on the road.
And sitting down he called the twelve; and he says to them, If any one would be first, he shall be last of all, and minister of all.
On the road to Capernaum the twelve disciples argued about which of them was greatest. Jesus had just told them He would be killed. In the house He sits down, calls them, and answers the argument they would not admit to. His rule turns their whole idea of rank upside down.
The disciples stayed quiet about their argument. But He already knew. One writer says the thoughts that filled their minds also shut out what the cross was showing them.
The truth is that other thoughts filled their minds. These thoughts got in the way of the light of God's grace shown in the cross. They also hid the terrible proof the cross gave that man is cut off from God. That same sinful mind, the one that leads man to such an end, was at work in them. He knew it, and laid it bare before their eyes.
He had just spoken of His death; they were sorting out rank. He does not walk away. He sits down to teach, and ends with a question that still tests every reader.
With endless patience, the Lord teaches His disciples. Their hearts were hard. They wanted their own greatness at the very moment He had reminded them He was about to be killed. Even so, He does not stand up in anger and leave them. He "sat down and called the twelve" around Him, and gently teaches them the path of true greatness. If anyone wants to be first in the Kingdom, let them be last on the road that leads to glory. Let them become the "servant of all." We might sometimes be willing to serve some great person, or some devoted saint, and lift ourselves up by doing it. But are we willing to be the "servant of all"?
Jesus does not correct a wrong method of getting to the top. He goes after the wanting itself.
The desire to be first only shows that a person is fit to be last. Such a desire reveals nothing but self. Humility must always be a leading mark of the disciple.
"Servant of all" is not vague goodwill. Other people's needs set the measure, and that rules out the very thing the twelve wanted.
Anyone who tries to be great, and to take the lead among Christians, has completely misrepresented what Christian character is. He will be the last of all. The true way to have the highest place is to serve, counting yourself the slave of the needs of other disciples… Seeking to lift yourself up is only the selfishness of the flesh. It is the spirit of the world, which is hostility against God. Love delights to serve — this is what Christ did. Pride and selfishness love to be served, and to be put ahead of others.
The rule is not only a demand on disciples. It describes what Jesus Himself did, and it explains why He stands first.
The only way that leads to real greatness is one that goes right to the bottom, as servant to all. Since this is so, we can see how the Lord Jesus is supreme even apart from His Deity. In His manhood He has taken the lowest place. He became Servant to all in a way that goes infinitely beyond anyone else's service. The one who is most like Him is likely to be first.
One writer reads this scene as a preview. The question He asked in the house at Capernaum is one His people may hear again — and the silence may be the same.
In time, all believers will stand before the judgment seat of Christ, and everything will come into the light. Read Mark 9:33 to 37 for a picture of that day. One day we will be safe at home — not in Capernaum, but in heaven. Will He not have good reason to say to us then: "What was it that you argued about among yourselves along the way? What has caused so much strife and quarrelling through all these centuries while I have been away?" And will we not have to keep silent, as they did?
- Down is up. The road to real greatness "goes right to the bottom, as servant to all" — there is no other route to the first place.
- Down begins in the heart. Wanting to be first is not a mistake in method. The desire itself "reveals nothing but self."
- Down is measured by others. To serve is to count yourself "the slave of the needs of other disciples." It is not about picking impressive people to serve.
- Down is where Christ already went. He "has taken the lowest place," so the one most like Him stands nearest the front.
- Down gets reviewed. His question in the house at Capernaum points ahead to the judgment seat of Christ, where every dispute along the way comes into the light.
And taking a little child he set it in their midst, and having taken it in his arms he said to them,
The disciples had argued on the road about which of them was greatest. They were too ashamed to admit it to the Lord. Jesus does not answer with a lecture. He answers with a living picture: a small child, set where they can all see him, then lifted into His arms.
The child is not just a visual aid. Where He puts the child is itself the correction. Commentators note that the gospels describe the placing in different ways.
The disciples were disputing among themselves about who should be the greatest. So He takes a little child and either sets him in the middle of them, or at His own side. Either way — plainly in the centre of the group, or marked out at His own right hand — He was giving the little child the place of honour. He was rebuking the pride of life, the love of being singled out, that was at work in them then.
Mark alone records the Lord taking the child up in His arms. The rebuke of their self-importance comes wrapped in that gesture.
This leads to the scene of the lowly child, whom the Lord takes in His arms. Only here is the lesson applied to rebuke their self-exaltation. Mark also records what Matthew and Luke have as well: whoever received one such child in His name received Christ, and, in receiving Him, received the Father who sent Him.
He does not just teach the downward path. He walks it in front of them, and calls them to follow.
The Lord has taught the disciples the path of true greatness. Now He illustrates that teaching. He places a little child in the middle of them, and shows how He Himself could stoop to take a little child into His arms of love. The disciple who can receive one such little child, in His Name, will be following the Lord in the path of true greatness. He will be stooping to the lowest in the Name of the Highest.
The child brings nothing of his own. Everything depends on the Name attached to him. That, not rank, settles the disciples' argument.
That child was a small, unimportant scrap of humanity. Yet to receive one such child in His Name was to receive the Lord Himself, and the Father who sent Him too. Receiving a thousand such children in any other name, or on any other ground, would count for very little. The truth is that the Master Himself is so great that the standing of His little servants next to each other is not worth arguing about.
The Name is also the test. It shows what is really great on earth, and what is not.
Then He takes a child and declares that whoever receives such a child in His name receives Christ; and whoever receives Christ receives the Father who sent Him. The name of Christ is the test of everything, the only thing on earth that is truly great to faith.
Ambition wants a promotion it can point to. This scene measures greatness another way: by how a person treats those who can do nothing for him.
A child could not give a man the dignity of greatness. But real care for little ones shows whether a man is great in character. Receiving one of these children was receiving the Lord Himself, whose heart is tender toward the weakest. And all who received Him received the Father who sent Him.
The dispute over who was greatest was the first crack in the group. The remedy He hands them is the same child.
In Mark 9:33-37 we find the first recorded break in the unity of the twelve apostles, and its root comes to light for our instruction: they had argued among themselves about who should be the greatest. The remedy is to grow the spirit of the little child. That is the only way unity can be kept.
- Cause. The argument over who was greatest was the first crack among the twelve disciples. The child is the Lord's remedy for it.
- Gift. Setting the child in the centre gave him the place of honour. Mark alone adds that Jesus took him into His arms — love, not just correction.
- Reach. To receive one such child in His Name is to receive Christ, and to receive Christ is to receive the Father who sent Him.
- Weight. The child adds nothing; the Name adds everything. It is the test of everything, and the only thing on earth truly great to faith.
- Result. True greatness stoops to the lowest in the Name of the Highest. How you treat the weakest shows what you think of Him.
Whosoever shall receive one of such little children in my name, receives me; and whosoever shall receive me, does not receive me, but him who sent me.
The disciples had been arguing about which of them was the greatest. Jesus answered by lifting a child into His arms. Welcoming the smallest person, He says, is welcoming Him — and welcoming Him is welcoming the One who sent Him. So what does a child have to do with greatness?
Jesus does first what He then asks of His followers. He takes the child into His arms.
The Lord had taught the disciples the path of true greatness. Now He shows them what He taught. He places a little child among them, and He Himself stoops to take that child into His arms of love. The disciple who can receive one such little child in His Name will be following the Lord. That is the path of true greatness. He will be stooping to the lowest in the Name of the Highest. By doing this he will find himself in company with Christ, and to receive Christ is to receive the One that sent Him. So, refusing self and self-exaltation, we will find ourselves in company with Divine Persons.
Everything here turns on the words "in my name."
His name is made the motive, condition, or ground for receiving a little child.
If the Name is the ground, rank among the servants stops mattering. That settles their dispute.
He showed that the personality of the servant is of small significance: what does count is the Name in which He comes. The child in His arms was an insignificant scrap of humanity. Yet to receive one such in His Name was to receive the Lord Himself, and also the Father who sent Him. Receiving a thousand such children in any other name, or on any other ground, would mean little. The Master Himself is so great that the relative rank of His little servants is not worth arguing about.
A child can give nothing back. So kindness shown to a child is a true test of a person.
He uses a child as an object lesson, setting him in the midst, then taking him in His arms. A child could not give a man the dignity of greatness. But genuine care for little ones shows whether he is morally great. Receiving one of these children was receiving the Lord Himself, whose heart is tender toward the weakest. And all who received Him received the Father who sent Him.
The second half of the verse pushes the welcome past Christ to "him who sent me." The disciples were messengers themselves, and that is what Jesus turns back on them.
Were they glorying in being Apostles (that is, sent ones), and in being received by the people as such? In that there was nothing to boast of. In receiving a messenger, it is the sender of the message who is thought of, and received. So, taking a little child, and setting it in the midst, He said, "Whoever receives this child in my name receives me." What a rebuke! But more. They were messengers, and He Himself was a messenger (Heb. 3:1). So, whoever received Christ, received Him that sent Him. Who could say a word after that?
Rivalry over position did not stop with the first disciples. The remedy here is a Person, not a rule.
And what is the remedy? In one word, CHRIST. The Lord's reply was to take up a child in His arms and say, "Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me." By this He showed that the only importance any of them had was what belonged to them as representatives of Himself. Nothing else counts. They were each nothing; He was everything.
- The Name is the ground. Christ's Name is the motive and the condition for welcoming the child. It is not a phrase tacked on at the end.
- The Name lifts the lowest. A child adds nothing to anyone's status. Yet the disciple stoops to the lowest in the Name of the Highest.
- The Name outranks the receiver. The servant's own importance counts for little. The Master is so great that arguing over rank is pointless.
- The Name tests the heart. A child can give no honour back. So care for little ones shows whether a person is morally great.
- The Name reaches the Father. Receive the child, and you receive Christ. Receive Christ, and you receive the One who sent Him. Refuse self-exaltation, and you stand in company with Divine Persons.