'And He came to Capernaum: and being in the house He asked them, What
was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way? 34. But they held
their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who
should be the greatest. 35. And He sat down, and called the Twelve,
and saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be
last of all, and servant of all. 36. And He took a child, and set him
in the midst of them: and when He had taken him in His arms, He said
unto them, 37. Whosoever shall receive one of such children in My
name, receiveth Me: and whosoever shall receive Me, receiveth not Me,
but Him that sent Me. 38. And John answered Him, saying, Master, we
saw one casting out devils in Thy name, and he followeth not us: and
we forbad him, because he followeth not us. 39. But Jesus said, Forbid
him not: for there is no man which shall do a miracle in My name, that
can lightly speak evil of Me. 40. For he that is not against us is on
our part. 41. For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in
My name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall
not lose his reward. 42. And whosoever shall offend one of these
little ones that believe in Me, it is better for him that a millstone
were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea.'--Mark ix.
33-42.
Surely the disciples might have found something better to talk about
on the road from Caesarea, where they had heard from Jesus of His
sufferings, than this miserable wrangle about rank! Singularly enough,
each announcement of the Cross seems to have provoked something of the
sort. Probably they understood little of His meaning, but hazily
thought that the crisis was at hand when He should establish the
kingdom; and so their ambition, rather than their affection, was
stirred. Perhaps, too, the dignity bestowed on Peter after his
confession, and the favour shown to the three witnesses of the
Transfiguration, may have created jealousy. Matthew makes the quarrel
to have been about future precedence; Mark about present. The one was
striven for with a view to the other. How chill it must have struck on
Christ's heart, that those who loved Him best cared so much more for
their own petty superiority than for His sorrows!
I. Note the law of service as the true greatness (verses 33-35). 'When
He was in the house, He asked them.' He had let them talk as they
would on the road, walking alone in front, and they keeping, as they
thought, out of ear-shot; but, when at rest together in the house
(perhaps Peter's) where He lived in Capernaum, He lets them see, by
the question and still more by the following teaching, that He knew
what He asked, and needed no answer. The tongues that had been so loud
on the road were dumb in the house--silenced by conscience. His
servants still do and say many things on the road which they would not
do if they saw Him close beside them, and they sometimes fancy that
these escape Him. But when they are 'in the house' with Him, they will
find that He knew all that was going on; and when He asks the account
of it, they, too, will be speechless. 'A thing which does not appear
wrong by itself shows its true character when brought to the judgment
of God and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. (_Bengel_).
Christ deals with the fault with much solemnity, seating Himself, as
Teacher and Superior, and summoning the whole Twelve to hear. We do
not enter on the difficult question of the relation of Mark's report
of our Lord's words to those of the other Evangelists, but rather try
to bring out the significance of their form and connection here. Note,
then, that here we have not so much the nature of true greatness, as
the road to it. 'If any man would be first,' he is to be least and
servant, and thereby he will reach his aim. Of course, that involves
the conception of the nature of true greatness as service, but still
the distinction is to be kept in view. Further, 'last of all' is not
the same as 'servant of all.' The one phrase expresses humility; the
other, ministry. An indolent humility, so very humble that it does
nothing for others, and a service which if not humble, are equally
incomplete, and neither leads to or is the greatness at which alone a
Christian ought to aim. There are two paradoxes here. The lowest is
the highest, the servant is the chief; and they may be turned round
with equal truth--the highest is the lowest, and the chief is the
servant. The former tells us how things really are, and what they look
like, when seen from the centre by His eye. The latter prescribes the
duties and responsibilities of high position. In fact and truth, to
sink is the way to rise, and to serve is the way to rule--only the
rise and the rule are of another sort than contents worldly ambition,
and the Christian must rectify his notions of what loftiness and
greatness are. On the other hand, distinguishing gifts of mind, heart,
leisure, position, possessions, or anything else, are given us for
others, and bind us to serve. Both things follow from the nature of
Christ's kingdom, which is a kingdom of love; for in love the vulgar
distinctions of higher and lower are abolished, and service is
delight. This is no mere pretty sentiment, but a law which grips hard
and cuts deep. Christ's servants have not learned it yet, and the
world heeds it not; but, till it governs all human society, and pulls
up ambition, domination, and pride of place by the roots, society will
groan under ills which increase with the increase of wealth and
culture in the hands of a selfish few.
II. Note the exhibition of the law in a life. Children are quick at
finding out who loves them, and there would always be some hovering
near for a smile from Christ. With what eyes of innocent wonder the
child would look up at Him, as He gently set him there, in the open
space in front of Himself! Mark does not record any accompanying
words, and none were needed, The unconsciousness of rank, the
spontaneous acceptance of inferiority, the absence of claims to
consideration and respect, which naturally belong to childhood as it
ought to be, and give it winningness and grace, are the marks of a
true disciple, and are the more winning in such because they are not
of nature, but regained by self-abnegation. What the child is we have
to become. This child was the example of one-half of the law, being
'least of all,' and perfectly contented to be so; but the other half
was not shown in him, for his little hands could do but small service.
Was there, then, no example in this scene of that other requirement?
Surely there was; for the child was not left standing, shy, in the
midst, but, before embarrassment became weeping, was caught up in
Christ's arms, and folded to His heart. He had been taken as the
instance of humility, and he then became the subject of tender
ministry. Christ and he divided the illustration of the whole law
between them, and the very inmost nature of true service was shown in
our Lord's loving clasp and soothing pressure to His heart. It is as
if He had said, 'Look! this is how you must serve; for you cannot help
the weak unless you open your arms and hearts to them.' Jesus, with
the child held to His bosom, is the living law of service, and the
child nestling close to Him, because sure of His love, is the type of
the trustful affection which we must evoke if we are to serve or help.
This picture has gone straight to the hearts of men; and who can count
the streams of tenderness and practical kindliness of which it has
been the source?
Christ goes on to speak of the child, not as the example of service,
but of being served. The deep words carry us into blessed mysteries
which will recompense the lowly servants, and lift them high in the
kingdom. Observe the precision of the language, both as regards the
persons received and the motive of reception. 'One of such little
children' means those who are thus lowly, unambitious, and unexacting.
'In My name' defines the motive as not being simple humanity or
benevolence, but the distinct recognition of Christ's command and
loving obedience to His revealed character. No doubt, natural
benevolence has its blessings for those who exercise it; but that
which is here spoken of is something much deeper than nature, and wins
a far higher reward.
That reward is held forth in unfathomable words, of which we can but
skim the surface. They mean more than that such little ones are so
closely identified with Him that, in His love, He reckons good done to
them as done to Him. That is most blessedly true. Nor is it true only
because He lovingly reckons the deed as done to Him, though it really
is not; but, by reason of the derived life which all His children
possess from Him, they are really parts of Himself; and in that most
real though mystic unity, what is done to them is, in fact, done to
Him. Further, if the service be done in His name, then, on whomsoever
it may be done, it is done to Him. This great saying unveils the true
sacredness and real recipient of all Christian service. But more than
that is in the words. When we 'receive' Christ's little ones by help
and loving ministry, we receive Him, and in Him God, for joy and
strength. Unselfish deeds in His name open the heart for more of
Christ and God, and bring on the doer the blessing of fuller insight,
closer communion, more complete assimilation to his Lord. Therefore
such service is the road to the true superiority in His kingdom, which
depends altogether on the measure of His own nature which has flowed
into our emptiness.
III. The Apostles' conscience-stricken confession of their breach of
the law (verses 38-40). Peter is not spokesman this time, but John,
whose conscience was more quickly pricked. At first sight, the
connection of his interruption with the theme of the discourse seems
to be merely the recurrence of the phrase, 'in Thy name'; but, besides
that, there is an obvious contrast between 'receiving' and
'forbidding.' The Apostle is uneasy when he remembers what they had
done, and, like an honest man, he states the case to Christ,
half-confessing, and half-asking for a decision. He begins to think
that perhaps the man whom they had silenced was 'one such little
child,' and had deserved more sympathetic treatment. How he came to be
so true a disciple as to share in the power of casting out devils, and
yet not to belong to the closer followers of Jesus, we do not know,
and need not guess. So it was; and John feels, as he tells the story,
that perhaps their motives had not been so much their Master's honour
as their own. 'He followeth not us,' and yet he is trenching on our
prerogatives. The greater fact that he and they followed Christ was
overshadowed by the lesser that he did not follow them. There spoke
the fiery spirit which craved the commission to burn up a whole
village, because of its inhospitality. There spoke the spirit of
ecclesiastical intolerance, which in all ages has masqueraded as zeal
for Christ, and taken 'following us' and 'following Him' to be the
same thing. But there spoke, too, a glimmering consciousness that
gagging men was not precisely 'receiving' them, and that if 'in Thy
name' so sanctified deeds, perhaps the unattached exorcist, who could
cast out demons by it, was 'a little one' to be taken to their hearts,
and not an enemy to be silenced. Pity that so many listen to the law,
and do not, like John, feel it prick them!
Christ forbids such 'forbidding,' and thereby sanctions
'irregularities' and 'unattached' work, which have always been the
bugbears of sticklers for ecclesiastical uniformity, and have not
seldom been the life of Christianity. That authoritative,
unconditional 'forbid him not' ought, long ago, to have rung the
funeral knell of intolerance, and to have ended the temptation to
idolise 'conformity,' and to confound union to organised forms of the
Christian community with union to Christ. But bigotry dies hard. The
reasons appended serve to explain the position of the man in question.
If he had wrought miracles in Christ's name, he must have had some
faith in it; and his experience of its power would deepen that. So
there was no danger of his contradicting himself by speaking against
Jesus. The power of 'faith in the Name' to hallow deeds, the certainty
that rudimentary faith will, when exercised, increase, the guarantee
of experience as sure to lead to blessing from Jesus, are all involved
in this saying. But its special importance is as a reason for the
disciples' action. Because the man's action gives guarantees for his
future, they are not to silence him. That implies that they are only
to forbid those who do speak evil of Christ; and that to all others,
even if they have not reached the full perception of truth, they are
to extend patient forbearance and guidance. 'The mouth of them that
speak lies shall be stopped'; but the mouth that begins to stammer His
name is to be taught and cherished.
Christ's second reason still more plainly claims the man for an ally.
Commentators have given themselves a great deal of trouble to
reconcile this saying with the other--'He that is not with Me is
against Me.' If by reconciling is meant twisting both to mean the same
thing, it cannot be done. If preventing the appearance of
contradiction is meant, it does not seem necessary. The two sayings do
not contradict, but they complete, each other. They apply to different
classes of persons, and common-sense has to determine their
application. This man did, in some sense, believe in Jesus, and worked
deeds that proved the power of the Name. Plainly, such work was in the
same direction as the Lord's and the disciples'. Such a case is one
for the application of tolerance. But the principle must be limited by
the other, else it degenerates into lazy indifference. 'He that is not
against us is for us,' if it stood alone, would dissolve the Church,
and destroy distinctions in belief and practice which it would be
fatal to lose. 'He that is not with Me is against Me,' if it stood
alone, would narrow sympathies, and cramp the free development of
life. We need both to understand and get the good of either.
IV. We have the reward of receiving Christ's little ones set over
against the retribution that seizes those who cause them to stumble
(verses 41, 42). These verses seem to resume the broken thread of
verse 37, whilst they also link on to the great principle laid down in
verse 40. He that is 'not against' is 'for,' even if he only gives a
'cup of water' to Christ's disciple because he is Christ's. That shows
that there is some regard for Jesus in him. It is a germ which may
grow. Such an one shall certainly have his reward. That does not mean
that he will receive it in a future life, but that here his deed shall
bring after it blessed consequences to himself. Of these, none will be
more blessed than the growing regard for the Name, which already is,
in some degree, precious to him. The faintest perception of Christ's
beauty, honestly lived out, will be increased. Every act strengthens
its motive. The reward of living our convictions is firmer and more
enlightened conviction. Note, too, that the person spoken of belongs
to the same class as the silenced exorcist, and that this reads the
disciples a further lesson. Jesus will look with love on the acts
which even a John wished to forbid. Note, also, that the disciples
here are the recipients of the kindness. They are no longer being
taught to receive the 'little ones,' but are taught that they
themselves belong to that class, and need kindly succour from these
outsiders, whom they had proudly thought to silence.
The awful, reticent words, which shadow forth and yet hide the fate of
those who cause the feeblest disciple to stumble, are not for us to
dilate upon. Jesus saw the realities of future retribution, and
deliberately declares that death is a less evil than such an act. The
'little ones' are sacred because they are His. The same relation to
Him which made kindness to them so worthy of reward, makes harm to
them so worthy of punishment. Under the one lies an incipient love to
Him; under the other, a covert and perhaps scarcely conscious
opposition. It is devil's work to seduce simple souls from allegiance
to Christ. There are busy hands to-day laying stumbling-blocks in the
way, especially of young Christians--stumbling-blocks of doubt, of
frivolity, of slackened morality, and the like. It were better, says
One who saw clearly into that awful realm beyond, if a heavy millstone
were knotted about their necks, and they were flung into the deepest
place of the lake that lay before Him as he spoke. He does not speak
exaggerated words; and if a solemn strain of vehemence, unlike His
ordinary calm, is audible here, it is because what He knew, and did
not tell, gave solemn earnestness to His veiled and awe-inspiring
prophecy of doom. What imagination shall fill out the details of the
'worse than' which lurks behind that 'better'?