Lowly Position
Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:4-9 (NIV)
4 Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5 And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.
6 “If anyone causes one of these little ones — those who believe in me — to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.
7 Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble! Such things must come, but woe to the person through whom they come!
8 If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire.
9 And if your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell.”
The Lowly Position
Just before this passage the disciples had asked Jesus a question that reveals a lot about where their heads were.
Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?
They were thinking about rank. About position. About how the hierarchy of the kingdom was going to be structured and where they were going to land in it. The question itself is not malicious — it is just deeply human. We all want to know where we stand. We want to understand how the system works and what it takes to move up in it.
Jesus called a little child and stood him in the middle of them.
Not a scholar. Not a leader. Not someone with impressive credentials or demonstrated spiritual achievement. A child. And He said — unless you change and become like this child you will not even enter the kingdom. And whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest.
The disciples were asking how to get to the top. Jesus pointed to someone who had not even thought about the question. A child does not strategise about their rank. A child does not perform for position. A child simply is — dependent, open, present, unburdened by the need to prove anything.
That is the greatest in the kingdom. Not the one who clawed their way up. The one who was willing to go low.
Whoever Welcomes One Such Child
Verse 5 extends the child image into something practical.
Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.
Jesus identifies Himself with the child. With the small, the vulnerable, the easy to overlook. The way you treat the one who has no power to benefit you in return — that is how you are treating Jesus.
This is a principle that runs through the whole gospel. Whatever you did for the least of these you did for me. He is found in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the sick, the prisoner. He is present in the person nobody else is paying attention to.
The question this asks of us is practical and uncomfortable. Who are the children in my world — the ones with nothing to offer me in return, the ones who do not advance my standing or increase my influence — and how am I treating them? Because that treatment is not neutral. It is a statement about how I am treating Jesus Himself.
The kingdom runs on a completely different currency than the world. Welcoming the child is worth more than impressing the important.
The Millstone
Jesus shifts without warning into some of the most severe language in the entire gospel.
If anyone causes one of these little ones to stumble — it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.
This is not gentle Jesus meek and mild. This is the same Jesus who cleared the temple with a whip. Fierce. Protective. Absolutely serious about the vulnerability of those who believe in Him.
The little ones here are not only children in the physical sense. They are the new believers, the spiritually young, the ones whose faith is still fragile and forming. The ones who are just finding their footing in the kingdom and are susceptible to being knocked off course by someone who should have known better.
Jesus takes the causing of stumbling with a gravity that should stop us in our tracks. The person who leads a young believer into doubt or sin or away from faith through their own careless or deliberate action — that person would have been better off at the bottom of the sea.
That is not hyperbole for effect. That is Jesus telling us that the eternal wellbeing of the people around us — especially the vulnerable ones — is something He cares about with an intensity that we had better take seriously.
Woe to the World
Verse 7 broadens the scope.
Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble.
The stumbling blocks are real. The things that knock people off the path of faith — false teaching, moral failure in leadership, hypocrisy, betrayal, the casual cruelty that makes people wonder if Christians are any different from anyone else — these things are real and they do real damage.
Such things must come. Jesus is not naive about the world. He is not suggesting that stumbling blocks can be entirely eliminated from human experience. They are part of the broken reality of living in a fallen world.
But woe to the person through whom they come.
Must come is not the same as acceptable. The existence of stumbling blocks in the world does not reduce the responsibility of the individual who becomes one. The fact that people will be hurt does not excuse the person who does the hurting. Must come is a description of reality. Woe is a statement of consequence.
The question it asks is not — are there stumbling blocks in the world? Of course there are. The question is — am I one of them?
Cut It Off
The language Jesus uses in verses 8 and 9 is deliberately extreme.
If your hand causes you to stumble — cut it off. If your foot causes you to stumble — cut it off. If your eye causes you to stumble — gouge it out.
Jesus is not giving surgical instructions. He is using hyperbole to make a point about the seriousness of dealing with what causes sin in our lives. The point is the radical willingness — the readiness to amputate what is causing the problem rather than keep it and manage the damage.
It is better to enter life maimed than to have both hands and be thrown into eternal fire.
The calculation Jesus is asking us to make is simple but most of us resist it. We prefer to manage the thing that causes us to stumble rather than cut it off. We want to keep the hand and just try harder to use it better. We want to keep the eye and just learn to look away at the right moment.
Jesus says that is the wrong approach. When something consistently causes you to stumble — when a relationship, a habit, a pattern of thought, a regular indulgence keeps pulling you away from God and into sin — the radical solution is not management. It is removal.
What in your life are you managing when Jesus says cut it off?
The Weight of Influence
What sits at the heart of this whole passage is a serious question about influence.
Who are we influencing and in which direction?
We all have people around us whose faith is younger or more fragile than ours. New believers, people who are just beginning to find their way back to God, people who are watching how we live and drawing conclusions about whether following Jesus is worth it.
And we have habits, patterns, relationships and indulgences that either help us be the kind of person who builds up those around us — or make us the kind of person who causes them to stumble.
Jesus is calling us to take both sides of this seriously. The welcome — genuinely welcoming the small and the vulnerable and the spiritually young. And the cutting off — being ruthless about what in our own lives makes us a stumbling block to others rather than a help.
The millstone is a stark image. But the point behind it is love. Jesus is fierce about the little ones because He loves them. And He is calling us to be the same — to love the vulnerable enough to both welcome them and protect them. From the world’s stumbling blocks and from our own.
Walk On
Take the lowly position today.
Welcome the ones nobody else is paying attention to. And be ruthless about whatever in your own life is a stumbling block — to yourself and to the people watching how you live.
The kingdom belongs to the ones who went low. And it protects the ones who are still finding their footing.
Cut off what needs cutting. Welcome what needs welcoming. 🤍
If this reflection spoke to you, consider subscribing to follow along my journey of faith, meditation, and rebuilding — one day at a time. Your support truly means more than you know ❤️