NOTES for Mat 18:1-5

When the Lord gives us a child as an example, He says that our task for attaining the Kingdom is to turn and become like children. What, then, is the main difference between an adult and a child? In particular, it is that a child trusts his parents without any conditions or reservations. He may not understand the necessity or see the meaning in words, prohibitions, and requests, but he trusts. The path of growing up for any person most often passes through a gradual increase in disobedience, rejection of the parents' experience, and accumulation of one's own.

In our relationship with God, we too often find ourselves facing things we do not understand, things the Lord treats as given and does not explain very much. We must protect life, we cannot kill, lie, or betray, we must love one another, and the more complicated a concrete life situation becomes, the less ready we are to trust God, and the more often we say, "and why exactly should I?" In such situations, truly childlike behavior is to turn to the Father and accept what He proposes that we do or not do.

It is so hard to take in that the Kingdom of Heaven is unlike earthly kingdoms in every respect. Therefore the question "who is greater?" asked by the disciples vividly shows not only their level, since despite their closeness to the Teacher they are still guided by earthly ideas. This question reflects the state of our whole fallen nature, with its notions of domination and subordination that have belonged to it, and have become so familiar, over many thousands of years.

Whenever anyone tries to justify the principle of domination, it is not hard to notice the hope of the one doing the justifying that he himself will be the one to dominate. But Christ, as in many other cases, gives us here a completely different view of the problem. He proposes that adults, solid people accustomed to respecting themselves, become like children. We are advised to reject what we are used to considering valuable, not only social status, but also, to some extent, experience. But if it is the experience of a life saturated with sin, it may not have the value of genuine life experience. Christ invites us to open ourselves toward the Father like a child trustingly receiving everything new from elders. Only, unlike adult people, the Father will never abuse a child's trust.

And it is no accident that immediately after these words Christ speaks about temptations. How easy it is to traumatize a trusting child for life, and how bitter it is when people who have sincerely reached toward the light run into Pharisees and false teachers. The stern words about cutting off body parts may seem like a call to self-mutilation, but in reality what we have before us is a call, expressed in its most extreme form, to be demanding toward oneself, to overcome the evil that nests within us. This evil destroys not only us, but also threatens those nearby. And especially those who have managed to become childlike in their openness.

The question of evil's origin and nature in the world has long occupied and tormented humanity. Hardly anyone could have told us more about it than Jesus, who was to confront the world's evil. Yet He does not say very much to His disciples about the devil and the world's evil; He tells them only that the devil is defeated and that the day will come when this becomes clearly visible to everyone.

Instead, He speaks to His disciples and followers at length and in detail about how to resist evil in everyday life. One of this life's most serious temptations regarding evil deeds and actions is the temptation to imagine oneself powerless before the evil being done. The issue is not even whether it is possible to stop those who do evil, but whether refraining from evil is pointless. The logic of evil suggests that your participation or nonparticipation will change nothing: if not you, then someone else. By trying to resist evil, even simply by refusing to participate in it, you only make your own life more difficult without accomplishing anything at all, for there will be no less evil in the world.

This logic seems temptingly simple, and it would be conclusive if the untransformed world were the only and final reality. Fortunately, it is not. A person who refuses to participate in evil has good reason to act as he does. The issue here is not only, or even chiefly, the world lying in evil, but the person and his spiritual destiny—whether he will be able to enter the Kingdom or remain in “outer darkness.” Even if a situation in the fallen world is indeed often beyond human control—“it must needs be that offenses come”—a person's own choice is always within his power. Jesus apparently gives no weight at all to what is called environmental influence, social determinism, and other similar justifications for the evil a person commits.

Of course, this does not mean that He fails to take account of the situation in which a person must make his choice. He says only that one must not consent to evil or inwardly surrender to it, accepting it as normal simply because it is normal in the fallen world. The norm of the fallen world is no norm but a perversion, and everyone who agrees to become a conduit for the powers of evil must remember this, for “woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.” It may certainly happen that even by refusing to participate in evil, a person will be unable to prevent that evil. But he can keep evil from entering his own heart and thus preserve it for the Kingdom.

The question of what it means to be like children has concerned Christians for many centuries. This is understandable: it is a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. Most often, people mention childlike innocence and childlike naivete. In reality, however, innocence and naivete are not so simple.

Augustine already observed that children are by no means innocent; they simply do not yet have the strength and skill to sin "like adults," but it is impossible to speak of their sinlessness, or even of their lesser sinfulness compared with adults, because all great sinners naturally grow out of little ones if they do not try to resist their own sinfulness. Naivete is not simple either: children usually understand much more than they tell adults, though, as a rule, in their own way, within the framework of their own logic and their own ideas about the world.

There is, however, one essential difference between children and adults, at least up to a certain age: children are usually little concerned with how they look in the eyes of those around them and what place they occupy in the "adult" world. During this period of their life, children simply ignore the reference points of the "adult" world, while at the same time understanding that it is an objective reality. Adults usually perceive such a child's existence as an ongoing game, more important to the child than the life adults consider "real."

For the child at this time, what is important is what he himself considers real and genuine, not what is conventionally considered so according to generally accepted rules, in which adults themselves often do not quite believe. This childlike attitude toward life is a priceless treasure for everyone who strives for normal, full spiritual life. Normal spiritual life is impossible if one does not live by what one recognizes as genuine, authentic, and real.

As we grow up, to a greater or lesser degree we learn to give up what we ourselves consider real and authentic in favor of what is conventionally considered such, and we pass from reality into illusion, in whose reality we strive with all our strength to convince ourselves and others. To be like children means to refuse such self-deception. This, of course, is only the first step on the path to the Kingdom, to authentic spiritual life, but without the first step there will be no later steps, and therefore no path.

The evangelist connects the words about the children we must become in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven with a small parable about a shepherd and a lost sheep, and this immediately puts everything in its place. The point is not only that we become weak, defenseless, and dependent, although at times we really do need to feel like children before God; Christ is clearly speaking here about a "new childhood," that is, about a second birth - not only about feeling like children in comparison with God, but actually becoming children of the Heavenly Father (and here any childishness is out of place; this calling is too high).

Understood this way, the familiar commandment "be like children" becomes an incomprehensible call to become participants in God's life, to become beloved sons and daughters in the beloved only-begotten Son - the path opened before us in Christ's Resurrection...

How are we to understand the words that we need to become like children in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Surely everyone who is at least somewhat familiar with little children knows that they are by no means angels, though their angels do stand before the throne of the Most High in heaven. Perhaps the point is precisely their smallness, defenselessness, and dependence on their parents, since the Lord speaks specifically about humbling oneself (v. 4). They are especially vulnerable to temptation, deception, and the action of the world's evil, and therefore they so need God's love and protection. Apparently this very kind of relationship with God is the realization of the Kingdom of Heaven.

What does Jesus mean when He speaks of children as ideal inhabitants of the Kingdom? And what do adults lack in this sense? Of course, when we think or speak about children, we first remember what is usually called "childlike spontaneity," as well as "childlike innocence." But on closer examination the picture is not so simple: a child's psychology is no simpler than an adult's, and anyone who has ever encountered manifestations of childish cruelty can easily doubt that innocence.

But there is something that children certainly have, and that is trustfulness. Even sly and malicious children sometimes show astonishing trustfulness, although, of course, they can be trained out of it if someone wants to. Still, in order to train a child not to trust, especially not to trust his own parents, one has to work very hard. And this, as we can see, is precisely the trust Jesus speaks about when He sets children before adults as an example.

Of course, this too is only a parable: childlike trustfulness, especially in relations with parents, belongs to the order of things that has not yet been transformed; it is a purely natural attachment. And if it remains only that, it will inevitably disappear over time. Then, of course, parents will wonder why their child, so trusting and affectionate in childhood, has suddenly grown distant from them. Jesus, of course, uses the image of childlike trustfulness, which as a rule is quite organic to a child, to describe the goal that everyone seeking the Kingdom must set for himself.

The point, of course, is not to return to childhood in the form of naive religious infantilism or frenzied "spiritual" "obedience" to people from whom a normal person would prefer to keep away. The point is to learn to trust God and the Savior as naturally and organically as a child trusts his parents (in a normal case).

Of course, on a purely natural level (whether we are speaking of physiology or psychology), such relationships are impossible for an adult: fallen man is selfish by nature. They can become possible only in the process of the transformation of human nature, which begins from the moment of the first contact with the Kingdom and ends with the complete and final renewal of human nature at the end of time. And such transformation is important not only for the person himself, but also for the Kingdom: after all, the Kingdom is founded on relationships - the relationships of its inhabitants with one another, of each of them with Christ, and of Christ Himself with His heavenly Father. And the stronger such relationships become, the fuller the Kingdom will be.

The words warning us not to despise these little ones are spoken immediately after the warning about the danger of stumbling blocks. But are only children among the little ones mentioned? If Christ tells adults to become like children, then all kinds of people in any age group can be little ones.

In advising us not to despise anyone, He gives us a very difficult commandment. Many of us are used to treating with contempt those who do not suit us. It is very convenient to feel that you are better than other people, those unpleasant people. More than that, many of us are used to "improving ourselves morally" by comparing ourselves with "bad people" and looking good against their background.

But here too the Lord sees and acts differently. Those whom we habitually place below ourselves may turn out to be much more precious to Him than some "proper" people, precisely because we have increased the pain of the rejected with our "proper" blows.

And let us remind the comfortable people whose arithmetic cannot make sense of Christ's rule, according to which one may leave the whole vast flock in order to save a single lost sheep, that no one has a guarantee that he will never become that sheep. And then the Good Shepherd, leaving everything, will go to save him too. After all, He wants every last one to be saved.

Today the Orthodox Church celebrates the Day of the Holy Spirit. The Epistle to the Ephesians reminds us that 'the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness, and truth' (v. 9), and calls us to 'be filled with the Spirit' (v. 18). The apostle Paul calls this new state of the human being 'light in the Lord'; the apostle John also turns to this image of light when he speaks of brotherly love among believers (1 John 2:10). In the spirit of love we are called to 'seek those who have gone astray' (Matt 18:10-14), to resolve problems in our relationships (Matt 18:15-18), and, finally, to receive God's grace in unanimous prayer in the name of Christ and in His presence, just as we were promised.

It is very important that today, on the day of the Holy Spirit, the Church reminds us of the Lord's promise to be among us when two or three of us gather in His name. At the time when Christ spoke these words, the apostles hardly understood how the Teacher could always be present with all those who gather "in His name." Until they learned this and were convinced of it with their own eyes, through their own experience, these words remained a mystery to them. Christ, foreseeing this, still sent the apostles this "package," which reaches its addressee in time.

And precisely on the day of Pentecost this package was delivered: "But the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything that I have said to you" (John 14:26). On that day the Spirit gave the apostles the sense of the living presence of their Teacher among them, just as real as it had been when they walked together along the roads of Palestine. Perhaps even more real: the Spirit "provided" His presence both among them and in each one of them at the same time. For they were truly gathered in His name.

It is possible that, while awaiting the descent of the Spirit, the apostles were doing exactly what Paul lists in the Letter to the Ephesians (Eph. 5:9-19). After all, this is a concrete embodiment of the words "in His name"; it is truly what is worth doing while waiting for the Spirit. In any case, the apostles truly took Christ's words to heart and remained together. And their shared disposition, their faithful waiting during the ten days from the Ascension, was what the Lord wanted from them. It was the one step in response to which He does far more: He pours out His grace on us.

For today's Day of the Holy Spirit, let us quote words from the liturgy written by St Theophanes the Branded, who lived in the first half of the ninth century.

Source of life, in whom we believe, stream of goodness, Holy Spirit of God, bring my deadened mind to life and by Your action raise it up to sing of Your divinity.

O Spirit of wisdom and the fear of God, Spirit of truth, counsel, and understanding, Giver of peace, dwell in us, so that, sanctified by Your indwelling, we may sing without ceasing in the night: We glorify You, Lover of humankind.

Almighty and Lord of all, who preserve all creation from decay, grant us sanctification and enlightenment, so that, filled with Your light, we may sing without ceasing in the night: We glorify You, Lover of humankind.

Come to us, Holy Spirit; make us partakers of Your holiness, of unfading Light, of divine life, and of Your fragrant gifts, for You are the stream of the Godhead, proceeding from the Father through the Son.

How are we to understand the words that we need to become like children in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Surely everyone who is at least somewhat familiar with little children knows that they are by no means angels, though their angels do stand before the throne of the Most High in heaven. Perhaps the point is precisely their smallness, defenselessness, and dependence on their parents, since the Lord speaks specifically about humbling oneself (v. 4). They are especially vulnerable to temptation, deception, and the action of the world's evil, and therefore they so need God's love and protection. Apparently this very kind of relationship with God is the realization of the Kingdom of Heaven.

The evangelist connects the words about the children we must become in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven with a small parable about a shepherd and a lost sheep, and this immediately puts everything in its place. The point is not only that we become weak, defenseless, and dependent, although at times we really do need to feel like children before God; Christ is clearly speaking here about a "new childhood," that is, about a second birth - not only about feeling like children in comparison with God, but actually becoming children of the Heavenly Father (and here any childishness is out of place; this calling is too high).

Understood this way, the familiar commandment "be like children" becomes an incomprehensible call to become participants in God's life, to become beloved sons and daughters in the beloved only-begotten Son - the path opened before us in Christ's Resurrection...

The question of what it means to be like children has concerned Christians for many centuries. This is understandable: it is a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. Most often, people mention childlike innocence and childlike naivete. In reality, however, innocence and naivete are not so simple.

Augustine already observed that children are by no means innocent; they simply do not yet have the strength and skill to sin "like adults," but it is impossible to speak of their sinlessness, or even of their lesser sinfulness compared with adults, because all great sinners naturally grow out of little ones if they do not try to resist their own sinfulness. Naivete is not simple either: children usually understand much more than they tell adults, though, as a rule, in their own way, within the framework of their own logic and their own ideas about the world.

There is, however, one essential difference between children and adults, at least up to a certain age: children are usually little concerned with how they look in the eyes of those around them and what place they occupy in the "adult" world. During this period of their life, children simply ignore the reference points of the "adult" world, while at the same time understanding that it is an objective reality. Adults usually perceive such a child's existence as an ongoing game, more important to the child than the life adults consider "real."

For the child at this time, what is important is what he himself considers real and genuine, not what is conventionally considered so according to generally accepted rules, in which adults themselves often do not quite believe. This childlike attitude toward life is a priceless treasure for everyone who strives for normal, full spiritual life. Normal spiritual life is impossible if one does not live by what one recognizes as genuine, authentic, and real.

As we grow up, to a greater or lesser degree we learn to give up what we ourselves consider real and authentic in favor of what is conventionally considered such, and we pass from reality into illusion, in whose reality we strive with all our strength to convince ourselves and others. To be like children means to refuse such self-deception. This, of course, is only the first step on the path to the Kingdom, to authentic spiritual life, but without the first step there will be no later steps, and therefore no path.

The question of evil's origin and nature in the world has long occupied and tormented humanity. Hardly anyone could have told us more about it than Jesus, who was to confront the world's evil. Yet He does not say very much to His disciples about the devil and the world's evil; He tells them only that the devil is defeated and that the day will come when this becomes clearly visible to everyone.

Instead, He speaks to His disciples and followers at length and in detail about how to resist evil in everyday life. One of this life's most serious temptations regarding evil deeds and actions is the temptation to imagine oneself powerless before the evil being done. The issue is not even whether it is possible to stop those who do evil, but whether refraining from evil is pointless. The logic of evil suggests that your participation or nonparticipation will change nothing: if not you, then someone else. By trying to resist evil, even simply by refusing to participate in it, you only make your own life more difficult without accomplishing anything at all, for there will be no less evil in the world.

This logic seems temptingly simple, and it would be conclusive if the untransformed world were the only and final reality. Fortunately, it is not. A person who refuses to participate in evil has good reason to act as he does. The issue here is not only, or even chiefly, the world lying in evil, but the person and his spiritual destiny—whether he will be able to enter the Kingdom or remain in “outer darkness.” Even if a situation in the fallen world is indeed often beyond human control—“it must needs be that offenses come”—a person's own choice is always within his power. Jesus apparently gives no weight at all to what is called environmental influence, social determinism, and other similar justifications for the evil a person commits.

Of course, this does not mean that He fails to take account of the situation in which a person must make his choice. He says only that one must not consent to evil or inwardly surrender to it, accepting it as normal simply because it is normal in the fallen world. The norm of the fallen world is no norm but a perversion, and everyone who agrees to become a conduit for the powers of evil must remember this, for “woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.” It may certainly happen that even by refusing to participate in evil, a person will be unable to prevent that evil. But he can keep evil from entering his own heart and thus preserve it for the Kingdom.