Luke 18:15-17

The Kingdom's Heirs and the Bouncers at the Gate Text: Luke 18:15-17

Introduction: The Great Inversion

We live in an age that worships at the altar of adult sophistication. Our world prizes credentials, experience, and the kind of cynical pragmatism that passes for wisdom. We want our experts to be experts, our leaders to be accomplished, and our religion to be, above all else, respectable. Children, in this economy, are often seen as a project, a hobby, or a nuisance. They are pre-adults, not-yet-persons, to be molded and managed until they can finally contribute something of value. They are cute, to be sure, but not central to the serious business of the Kingdom.

This is not a new problem. It is an ancient one, and it is a problem that Jesus confronts head-on in our text this morning. The disciples, the inner circle, the men who should have known better, were infected with this very same worldly virus. They saw the Kingdom of God as a serious, adult enterprise. It was about overthrowing Rome, establishing a new political order, and debating important theological matters. And into this high-stakes meeting, some mothers have the audacity to bring their babies. Their noisy, drooling, non-contributing babies. You can almost hear the disciples sighing. "Can't you see we are busy with the Messiah here? Take the kids to the nursery."

But Jesus, as He so often does, detonates their categories. He turns their entire value system upside down. He doesn't just tolerate the children; He declares that they are the very models of citizenship in His Kingdom. He doesn't just welcome them; He rebukes the ones who would hinder them. This passage is not a sentimental Hallmark card about how sweet children are. It is a polemical declaration about the nature of God's Kingdom, the nature of faith, and the nature of the covenant. It is a shot across the bow of every form of self-important, works-based religion, both ancient and modern.

What Jesus does here is foundational. He is defining the terms of entry into His Kingdom. And He does so by pointing to the most helpless, dependent, and un-credentialed members of the human race. If we misunderstand this, we will misunderstand the gospel itself. We will create a church for the competent, a faith for the accomplished, and a kingdom for the respectable. And in doing so, we will find ourselves on the wrong side of the gate, standing with the very bouncers Jesus rebuked.


The Text

And they were bringing even their babies to Him so that He would touch them, but when the disciples saw it, they were rebuking them.
But Jesus called for them, saying, “Permit the children to come to Me, and 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 never enter it.”
(Luke 18:15-17 LSB)

The Unwitting Bureaucrats of the Kingdom (v. 15)

We begin with the actions of the parents and the reaction of the disciples.

"And they were bringing even their babies to Him so that He would touch them, but when the disciples saw it, they were rebuking them." (Luke 18:15)

Notice the specificity of the word Luke uses. These are not just children; they are "babies" (Greek: brephe). This is the same word used for John the Baptist leaping in Elizabeth's womb. These are infants, nursing children, entirely dependent and incapable of making a reasoned theological decision for themselves. And what do the parents want? They want Jesus to "touch them." This is not a casual request. In the Scriptures, a touch from a man of God, a prophet, is a conferral of blessing. Think of Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manasseh. These parents are acting in faith, bringing their covenant children to the head of the covenant to receive a covenant blessing.

This is a beautiful picture of covenant succession. These parents understood, in a way the disciples did not, that God's promises are for believers "and for their children" (Acts 2:39). They were not bringing their children for a photo-op. They were bringing them for an impartation of grace. They believed that the blessings of the Messiah were for their entire household.

But the disciples, in a fit of what we might call administrative pragmatism, "were rebuking them." They saw this as an interruption. Jesus was engaged in important, grown-up work. He was teaching profound truths, healing significant diseases, and heading toward a confrontation in Jerusalem. They saw themselves as the gatekeepers, managing His time and importance. In their minds, these babies had nothing to offer. They couldn't understand the sermon on the mount. They couldn't tithe. They couldn't take up a sword against the Romans. They were, in short, a drain on resources. This is the mindset of every sterile, bureaucratic, and dying church. It is a mindset that measures spiritual value by worldly metrics of utility and contribution.

The disciples were not being malicious. They were being practical. And their practicality was a direct contradiction of the economy of grace. They were trying to protect Jesus, but they were actually hindering the work of the Kingdom by setting up a barrier that God had never established. They were enforcing a standard of entry, maturity, understanding, self-awareness, that would have excluded themselves, had they truly understood their own spiritual state.


The King's Edict (v. 16)

Jesus's response is swift and decisive. He doesn't just overrule His disciples; He issues a royal command that establishes a permanent principle for His Kingdom.

"But Jesus called for them, saying, 'Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.'" (Luke 18:16)

First, Jesus "called for them." He summons the very ones His disciples were shooing away. He actively invites the interruption. His command is twofold: one positive, one negative. "Permit the children to come to Me" is the positive command. The gate is open. There is no age requirement, no test to pass. The default posture of the church toward the children of believers is to bring them in. This is the foundational text for infant baptism. If Christ welcomes them to His person, on what possible grounds do we deny them the sign of His covenant? To deny the sign of the covenant (baptism) to the children of believers is to do precisely what the disciples did here: to hinder them, to forbid them, to set up a man-made barrier where Christ has declared an open door.

The negative command is "do not hinder them." This is a sharp rebuke. The disciples thought they were helping, but they were actually obstructing. This should be a terrifying warning to the modern church. How many of our traditions, our programs, our worship styles, and our theological systems are designed, not for the simple faith of a child, but for the sophisticated tastes of the consumer adult? How often do we hinder children by making the faith into a complex intellectual exercise instead of a simple act of trust? We create high hurdles of "understanding" and "personal decision" that God never erected, and we pat ourselves on the back for our theological rigor while Jesus is indignant with us for blocking the path to His feet.

Then Jesus gives the reason, and it is staggering: "for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." He does not say the kingdom will belong to them one day when they grow up and make a mature profession of faith. He says it belongs to them now. The word "such" refers not just to those with a childlike attitude, but to the children themselves. These infants, these brephe, are citizens of the kingdom. They are heirs. This is covenant language. The kingdom is an inheritance, and these children are in the line of succession. This is a direct affirmation that the children of believers are to be regarded as members of the visible church, part of the covenant community, until and unless they apostatize later in life.


The Non-Negotiable Terms of Entry (v. 17)

Lest anyone think this is just a sentimental moment about babies, Jesus turns the illustration into a universal, unyielding principle for all who would enter His Kingdom.

"Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it." (Luke 18:17)

With the words "Truly I say to you," Jesus is underlining a foundational truth. This is not a suggestion; it is a divine ultimatum. The entrance requirement for the Kingdom is not what you can do for God, but how you receive what God has done for you. And the required posture is that of a child.

What does it mean to receive the kingdom "like a child"? It means to receive it with empty hands. A baby brings nothing. A baby cannot bargain, negotiate, or impress. A baby can only receive. This is a direct assault on the religion of the Pharisee in the preceding parable, who came to God with his hands full of his own accomplishments. To receive the kingdom like a child is to abandon all pretense of merit. It is to come in utter dependence, trusting not in your own strength, wisdom, or righteousness, but in the sheer grace of the King.

It means to receive it as a gift, not as a wage. Children do not earn their place in a family; they are born into it. They do not work for their inheritance; it is given to them. The gospel is not a deal you make with God; it is a verdict of acquittal that you receive by faith alone. The modern evangelical emphasis on "making a decision for Christ" can often obscure this point, subtly shifting the focus to our action rather than God's gracious gift. The critical action is not our deciding, but our receiving.

This is not a call to childishness, but to childlikeness. It is not a call to ignorance, but to humility. It is the recognition that, before God, we are all helpless infants. We are all spiritually bankrupt. We have nothing to offer, nothing to commend ourselves. Our only hope is to be picked up, held, and blessed by a gracious Savior. The disciples wanted to filter the crowd based on who was worthy of Jesus's time. Jesus declares that the only ones who will ever enter His kingdom are those who admit they are completely unworthy of it.


Conclusion: Are You a Bouncer or a Babe?

This passage forces a question upon us, and it is a deeply uncomfortable one. In the economy of God's kingdom, where do you stand? Do you identify with the disciples, trying to manage the kingdom, protect its respectability, and enforce standards of entry based on worldly wisdom? Are you a bouncer at the gate, checking IDs for spiritual maturity, quietly confident in your own qualifications?

Or do you identify with the babies? Do you recognize your own helplessness? Do you come to Christ with empty hands, with nothing to offer but your need? Do you understand that your only claim to the kingdom is not your own merit, but the sheer, unmerited, covenantal grace of God that He extends to you and to your children?

The gospel is the great inversion. The first shall be last, and the last shall be first. The wise are made fools, and the foolish are made wise. The strong are cast down, and the weak are lifted up. And here, the self-sufficient adults are sent away, while the helpless infants are welcomed into the arms of the King.

Therefore, we must bring our children to be touched by Jesus. We bring them for the sign of the covenant in baptism, marking them as members of His visible kingdom. We raise them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, teaching them that they belong to Him. And we must come to Him ourselves, every day, not as competent managers of our own spiritual lives, but as helpless children, utterly dependent on His grace, receiving the kingdom as the free gift that it is. For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these, and only to such as these.