The Kingdom's Upended Hierarchy Text: Mark 9:33-37
Introduction: The Poison of Self-Promotion
The disciples of Jesus, the men who had front row seats to the greatest display of humility in the history of the world, were still thoroughly infected with the spirit of the age. And we must not be too quick to look down our noses at them, because the spirit of our age is the same spirit, just dressed in different clothes. It is the spirit of self-promotion, of jockeying for position, of measuring greatness by the number of people who serve you instead of the number of people you serve. It is the spirit that asks, "How can I get ahead?" instead of "How can I get behind and push?"
Jesus had just told them, for the second time, that He was going to be betrayed, killed, and would rise again. This was the central hinge of all human history, the great sacrifice that would establish His kingdom. And what was their response? They didn't understand it, and they were afraid to ask. Instead, their minds immediately turned to the org chart of the coming administration. Who gets to be Chief of Staff? Who will be Secretary of Defense? Who gets the corner office with the best view of the New Jerusalem?
Their argument on the road to Capernaum is a perfect snapshot of the fallen human heart. It is a heart that is curved in on itself. Even when following the incarnate Son of God, it is constantly looking for ways to leverage that association for personal gain and status. This is the raw material that Jesus has to work with. It is the raw material He has to work with in us. And what He does next is not simply a mild course correction. It is a complete demolition of their worldly understanding of power and greatness. He is about to teach them that in the kingdom of God, the way up is down.
This is not just a lesson for the twelve; it is a fundamental law of the kingdom. If we do not grasp this, we will misunderstand the very nature of the gospel. We will create churches that look more like corporate ladders than communities of servants, and we will produce Christians who are more concerned with their reputation than with their Savior's. Let us attend, then, to this radical, world-altering lesson.
The Text
And they came to Capernaum; and when He was in the house, He began to question them, "What were you discussing on the way?" But they kept silent, for on the way they had discussed with one another which of them was the greatest. And sitting down, He called the twelve and said to them, "If anyone wants to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all." And taking a child, He set him before them. And taking him in His arms, He said to them, "Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me."
(Mark 9:33-37 LSB)
The Awkward Silence (v. 33-34)
We begin with a question from Jesus that brings their foolishness into the light.
"And they came to Capernaum; and when He was in the house, He began to question them, 'What were you discussing on the way?' But they kept silent, for on the way they had discussed with one another which of them was the greatest." (Mark 9:33-34)
Jesus, being God, already knew what they were arguing about. His question was not for His information, but for their conviction. He was drawing the poison out into the open. He brings them into the house, a private setting, and puts the question to them directly. This is how the Lord often deals with us. He corners us with the truth of our own hearts.
Their response is telling: "they kept silent." This is the silence of shame. They knew, instinctively, that their conversation was entirely out of step with the character of their Master. They had just been walking with the one who was on His way to be "last of all," and they were busy arguing about who would be first. Their silence was a confession. They knew they were wrong. They were embarrassed to have their petty ambitions exposed before the King of the universe.
This desire to be the "greatest" is the primordial sin. It is the sin of Satan, who said "I will ascend." It is the sin of Adam and Eve, who wanted to be like God. And it is a sin that is deeply embedded in the heart of every one of us. We are natural-born status seekers. We compare, we compete, we measure ourselves against others. Our culture feeds this sin constantly with its celebrity worship, its obsession with influence, and its endless promotion of self. The disciples were simply acting like unenlightened, fallen men. And Jesus is about to give them the cure.
The Kingdom Paradox (v. 35)
Jesus then sits down, taking the formal posture of a rabbi about to deliver a weighty teaching. He doesn't rebuke them for wanting to be great; He redefines greatness for them.
"And sitting down, He called the twelve and said to them, 'If anyone wants to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all.'" (Mark 9:35 LSB)
This is one of the great paradoxes of the Christian faith. The world says, "If you want to be first, you must climb over others, promote yourself, and make sure everyone knows how important you are." Jesus says, "If you want to be first, you must go to the back of the line and start serving." He completely inverts the pyramid of power.
Notice He says "last of all and servant of all." To be last is a matter of rank and status. To be a servant is a matter of function and action. The truly great man in God's kingdom is the one who voluntarily takes the lowest position in order to do the most good for others. He is not concerned with his rights, but with his responsibilities. He is not looking for perks, but for opportunities to help.
This is not a call to become a doormat or to cultivate a cringing, false humility. True biblical humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. It is an inference you draw when you are rightly occupied with the greatness of God. When you see Him as He is, you see yourself as you are, and the desire to jockey for position seems as absurd as it truly is. This servanthood is not abdication. In fact, true authority flows from this kind of sacrificial service. A man who gives himself away for the good of others, like Christ did, is the man who will be given genuine authority by God. The world's way is to grab power; the kingdom's way is to be given authority as a result of faithful service.
The Object Lesson (v. 36-37)
To drive the point home, Jesus provides a living illustration. He doesn't just give them a principle; He gives them a picture.
"And taking a child, He set him before them. And taking him in His arms, He said to them, 'Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me.'" (Mark 9:36-37 LSB)
We must understand the cultural context here. In the first-century Greco-Roman world, a child was a non-entity. They had no status, no power, no rights. They were at the absolute bottom of the social ladder. They were not sentimentalized as they are in our culture. They were seen as weak, dependent, and unimportant. By taking a child into His arms, Jesus was identifying with the lowest of the low.
He is saying, "You want to know what greatness looks like? It looks like this. It looks like stooping down to welcome and care for the most insignificant person in the room." To "receive" a child means to welcome, to serve, to care for them. It is an act of humble service toward someone who can offer you nothing in return. They cannot advance your career. They cannot increase your social standing. They cannot repay you. This is pure, unadulterated service.
And then Jesus connects this act of service directly to Himself. "Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me." When you serve the lowly for Jesus' sake, you are serving Jesus Himself. He takes it personally. This is a staggering thought. Every act of humble service, every diaper changed, every meal served to the needy, every moment spent with the forgotten, when done in the name of Christ, is an act of worship rendered directly to the King.
But He doesn't stop there. He takes it all the way to the top. "And whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me." By welcoming a helpless child, you are welcoming the Son of God, and by welcoming the Son, you are welcoming God the Father. The path to fellowship with the sovereign God of the universe runs straight through the nursery. It runs through the soup kitchen. It runs through the humble, unseen acts of service that the world scoffs at. The hierarchy is completely upended. The way to the throne room is through the servant's quarters.
Conclusion: The Great Reversal
The disciples wanted a crown, and Jesus offered them a towel. They wanted a throne, and Jesus offered them a child to hold. This is the great reversal of the kingdom. God measures greatness not by how high you have climbed, but by how low you have stooped to serve.
This is not just a moral lesson; it is the very shape of the gospel. The one who was truly the greatest, the eternal Son of God, became the last of all. He became the servant of all. He took on the form of a slave, humbled Himself, and went to the cross. He received the lowest place so that we, the truly least, could be received by the Father. He welcomed us when we had nothing to offer Him but our sin.
Therefore, our pursuit of greatness must be a pursuit of Christ-likeness. It means we must repent of our secret score-keeping, our comparisons, and our selfish ambition. It means we must actively look for the "children" in our midst, the lowly, the inconvenient, the forgotten, and receive them in the name of Jesus. It is in losing our lives in this kind of service that we truly find them. It is in becoming last that we discover what it means to be first in the eyes of the only one whose opinion truly matters.