The Kingdom's Gatekeepers and the Kingdom's Heirs Text: Mark 10:13-16
Introduction: A Crisis of Importance
We live in an age that is desperately confused about what is important. Our culture is obsessed with celebrity, with influence, with platform, with the kind of self-important swagger that gets you noticed. We measure a man's worth by his followers, his bank account, or his political clout. And because this is the air we breathe, it is very easy for the church to begin to think in the same way. We start to think that the kingdom of God advances through impressive strategies, through polished presentations, and through rubbing shoulders with the right kind of people. We begin to believe that the work of God is for the serious, the important, the adult. And in the middle of all our strategic planning and our Very Important Meetings, the children are often seen as a distraction, a sideshow, something to be managed and kept quiet while the real work gets done.
This is not a new problem. This is precisely the problem that Jesus confronts in our text today. The disciples, the inner circle, the future leaders of the church, had already begun to think this way. They had appointed themselves as the Lord's gatekeepers, his schedulers, his bodyguards. They were trying to manage His time, to protect His energy, to ensure that only the "important" people got access. And in their worldly wisdom, they concluded that a gaggle of noisy children and their mothers did not make the cut. They were an interruption. They were unimportant.
But what the disciples saw as an interruption, Jesus saw as the entire point. What they saw as a distraction, Jesus saw as a demonstration of the very nature of His kingdom. In this brief, potent encounter, Jesus does not just correct a minor administrative error. He detonates the world's definition of importance. He turns the whole value system of honor, status, and power on its head. He shows us that the entrance to the kingdom of God is not a grand, triumphal arch for the strong and the accomplished, but rather a low door, a humble gate, that can only be entered on your knees, with the dependent, receiving faith of a little child.
This passage is a bucket of cold water in the face of all our self-important religiosity. It is a direct challenge to our pragmatic, results-driven, "big people" way of doing church. And it is a glorious, wide-open invitation to all who will come to Jesus with empty hands and trusting hearts.
The Text
And they were bringing children to Him so that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw this, He was indignant and said to them, “Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.” And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them.
(Mark 10:13-16 LSB)
The Bouncers at the Gate (v. 13)
We begin with the scene as it unfolds:
"And they were bringing children to Him so that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked them." (Mark 10:13)
Parents were bringing their children to Jesus. This was not for healing, as we see in other places. The text says they wanted Him to "touch them." This was an act of seeking a blessing. In the Old Testament, the laying on of hands was a way of imparting a blessing, a patriarchal benediction (Genesis 48:14). These parents recognized Jesus as a man of God, a prophet, a rabbi, and they wanted His favor to rest upon their children. This was an act of faith. They believed something good would happen if this man simply touched their little ones.
But the disciples see this as a problem. They "rebuked them." The word for rebuke here is a strong one. It is the same word used when Jesus rebukes demons. The disciples are not being polite. They are sternly, harshly turning these families away. Why? They were likely operating under a few worldly assumptions. First, they saw themselves as protecting Jesus's time and energy. He had been teaching on weighty matters like divorce, and He was on His way to Jerusalem to face the cross. This seemed like a triviality. Second, in that culture, children were not seen as important. They were on the bottom rung of the social ladder. They were to be seen and not heard. The disciples were running the ministry like a modern corporation: focus on the high-value targets, and don't get bogged down with the small fry.
This is a perpetual temptation for the church. We create programs, we build institutions, and we can quickly begin to think that the institution is the important thing. We get so busy running the "ministry" that we forget who the ministry is for. The disciples were trying to serve Jesus by protecting Him, but in reality, they were preventing people from getting to Him. They had become bouncers at the door of the kingdom, deciding who was and was not worthy of the Lord's time. And they got it completely, utterly wrong.
The Indignant King (v. 14)
Jesus's reaction is one of the sharpest in all the Gospels.
"But when Jesus saw this, He was indignant and said to them, 'Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.'" (Mark 10:14)
Mark tells us Jesus was "indignant." This is righteous anger. He was not merely annoyed; He was deeply offended. What offended Him? The disciples' pride. Their spiritual blindness. Their worldly calculus of importance. They were hindering the very people who best illustrated the nature of His kingdom. Their actions were a direct contradiction of the gospel He came to preach.
His command is sharp and direct: "Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them." Stop blocking the way. Get out of the way. This is a standing rebuke to any church, any pastor, any system that makes it difficult for people to come to Jesus. Whether it's through legalism, or stuffy traditionalism, or a high-brow intellectualism that scoffs at simple faith, anything that becomes a barrier between a seeking soul and the Savior is an object of Christ's indignation.
Then He gives the reason, and it is a bombshell: "for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." He does not say the kingdom will belong to them when they grow up, or after they've been properly catechized, or once they can make a mature and nuanced profession of faith. He says it belongs to them, now, in their childhood. This is a foundational statement for our understanding of covenant theology. The children of believers are not little pagans who need to be evangelized into the kingdom. They are born inside the covenant community. They are to be treated as members of the kingdom unless and until they prove otherwise by unbelief. This is why we baptize our children. We are marking them as what they are: citizens of the kingdom, holy unto the Lord (1 Cor. 7:14).
The Low Door into the Kingdom (v. 15)
Jesus then takes this specific situation and turns it into a universal principle for all who would follow Him.
"Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all." (Genesis 10:15)
This is the punchline. The disciples thought the children were the problem, but Jesus says the disciples are the problem. They need to become like the children, not the other way around. What does it mean to receive the kingdom "like a child"? It does not mean we are to be childish: ignorant, silly, or immature. Paul tells us to put away childish things (1 Cor. 13:11). Rather, it means we are to be childlike.
What are the characteristics of a child's reception? First, utter dependence. A small child does not bring anything to the table. They do not have a resume. They cannot negotiate terms. They are entirely dependent on their parents for everything: food, shelter, protection, life itself. This is how we must come to God. We come with empty hands. We do not come with our good works, our spiritual accomplishments, or our moral resume. We come as beggars, utterly dependent on His grace. Second, simple trust. A young child trusts their father. They receive what he gives them as a gift, without suspicion, without demanding to see the fine print. They simply receive. This is faith. It is not a work we perform, but a resting in the work of another. It is taking God at His Word.
The proud man cannot enter the kingdom because he is trying to earn it, to deserve it, to climb his way in. But the gate is too low for him to enter standing up. You must stoop. You must humble yourself. You must become as a little child, receiving the kingdom as a pure, unmerited gift. There is no other way in.
The Open Arms of the Savior (v. 16)
The scene concludes with a beautiful and tender picture of our Lord.
"And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them." (Mark 10:16)
After rebuking the gatekeepers, Jesus does what the parents had hoped for, and more. He doesn't just touch them. He takes them up in His arms. He embraces them. This is a picture of intimate, personal affection. These are not projects or statistics to Him. They are beloved individuals. And He "began blessing them." The verb suggests an ongoing, fervent blessing. He laid His hands on them, the very hands that shaped the cosmos, and imparted His divine favor.
This is the heart of God. While his self-important disciples were trying to keep people away, Jesus was drawing the smallest and weakest to Himself. He is not a distant, aloof deity. He is the good shepherd who knows His sheep, even the littlest lambs, and holds them close. This is a profound comfort for every Christian parent. When you bring your children to Jesus in faith, when you raise them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, you are bringing them to one who is eager to receive them, to embrace them, and to bless them.
Conclusion: Are You a Bouncer or a Child?
This passage forces a question upon us. In our dealings with others, and in our own approach to God, are we acting like the disciples or like the children? Are we gatekeepers, or are we receivers?
It is very easy to become a disciple-bouncer. We do it when we look down on those whose theology isn't as tidy as ours. We do it when we value order and decorum in our church services more than the messy reality of people's lives. We do it when we make Christianity into a complex system of rules and regulations that only the spiritual elite can navigate, rather than a simple call to "come to Me." We hinder people when our pride, our fussiness, or our judgmental spirit gets in the way of them seeing the open arms of Jesus.
But fundamentally, the call is to come as a child ourselves. Have you received the kingdom as a gift? Or are you still trying to prove you are worthy of it? Are you resting in the finished work of Christ with simple, dependent trust? Or are you trying to build a portfolio of righteousness to present to God on the last day? The gospel is not a reward for the competent. It is a rescue for the helpless. It is not a prize for the important, but a gift for the childlike.
Jesus Christ did not come for the spiritually self-sufficient. He came for those who know they are needy. He welcomes those who come with nothing in their hands. Let us, therefore, repent of our proud, adult foolishness. Let us stop hindering others. And let us come to Him again, and every day, as little children, ready to be picked up, embraced, and blessed by the only one who can give us the kingdom.