Loved the Least of These
I looked down the line of metal chairs at my junior high teammates.
It was a Sunday afternoon. We were decked out in our Sunday’s finest, seated in the damp basement of some church a few towns over waiting for the match to begin. To my left, one person held the photocopied chapter of Judges we were supposed to know by heart while a couple of other team members quizzed each other over the most minute of details from the text.
Just before the match began, we all took turns testing out the switch on the board for the Jeopardy-esque match. While every church’s boards were similar–some combination of a button and lightbulb for each team–the switches each church used were different. Because we always wanted to win, we focused a few minutes of our energy before each match figuring out the best way to hit the button with maximum efficiency. After all, the goal of the game was to hit the button to ring in and answer before the other team could do the same.
Since we had a bye for the first round of the round-robin play, we had to wait for the previous match to end before the team we would be playing arrived in the basement to play against us. Soon, we could hear them loudly descending the stairs, bragging about how badly they had destroyed the team they had just played.
We saw it on their faces as soon as it registered that we were their opponents for this round. Immediately, they burst out into laughter, thinking they were going to easily beat this team of junior high kids–mostly their siblings.
My team was unphased as we prepared to take on the other team our church had brought to this Bible Bowl tournament. Despite their cocky attitudes, typical 1990s acid-washed denim jackets, and fluffy teenage 90s hair, we were not intimidated. They might have had a few years on us, but three of our five team members had nearly photographic memories, and we had the chapters of Judges we were being quizzed over completely memorized.
Quickly, it became clear that our older opponents were not nearly as prepared as we were for this battle.
And they were not happy about it.
Both of our teams had one goal that day: to be the best.
We would stop at nothing to get to it.
At the end of the three rounds of play, we emerged victorious, much to the dismay of our siblings/opponents/fellow youth group friends.
They were mad.
Big mad.
Because they had been embarrassed during a Bible Bowl match where the primary goal was to annihilate the opponent to the furthest degree possible to be the best and everyone would know you were the best.
Last week, we talked about how Jesus experienced frustration when He was here on earth. I have to wonder if this scene out of my Junior High days wasn’t another one of those times when Jesus would have been sighing deeply, pursing His lips, and shaking His head over what His people were doing here on earth.
The Best of the Best
We’ve been in the book of Luke for the past few months studying what Jesus did while He was on earth. Last week, we talked about the verses in Luke 9 where the father brought his demon-possessed son to Christ to be healed because the disciples couldn’t do it. We see Jesus’ frustration in these verses before He has the child brought to Him to heal and restore.
What happens next is another one of those scenes I have to laugh at when I visualize it. The disciples have just failed. They couldn’t drive this demon out even though Jesus had given them the authority to do so. After Jesus drives out the demon and talks to them about his upcoming death, we see this scene play out:
The disciples began to argue and became preoccupied over who would be the greatest one among them. Luke 9: 48 TPT
Can you picture it?
I can see it happening just like it does when kids get in trouble–this weird combination of finger-pointing, name-calling, and self-preservation. I can hear them saying things like:
“I couldn’t drive out that demon because I was too busy picking up all your slack.”
“I’m always the one who ends up driving out the demons, and I was tired because of all that extra effort.”
“Well, I might not have been able to drive that demon out, but I’ve driven out 7 other demons this week. What have you done?
“Yeah, but I healed all those sick people last week, and you were nowhere to be found, so I’m clearly better than you…”
It’s not hard to see how this conversation could quickly go from finger-pointing to posturing, especially if you’re a parent because you’ve probably witnessed it between your own kids!!!
Losing Sight of Who Matters Most
It’s so easy for me to look at this situation and understand how quickly the disciples could lose sight of what matters most because it’s the same thing I watched constantly happen back in my Bible Bowl days.
We didn’t memorize scripture so we could hold it close to our hearts; we memorized scripture so we could win games.
We didn’t memorize scripture so we could know God and Jesus better; we memorized scripture so we could be better than everyone else.
We didn’t memorize scripture so we could teach others; we memorized scripture so we could embarrass others.
There was no Jesus in any of those things; there was just competition, arrogance, and hostility.
If Jesus had been in those Sunday afternoons, I’m sure they would have looked very different, just like this scene with the disciples ends up looking very different. As the disciples were arguing over who was the best, Luke tells us what Jesus did:
Fully aware of their innermost thoughts, Jesus called a little child to his side and said to them, “If you tenderly care for this little child on my behalf, you are tenderly caring for me. And if you care for me, you are honoring my Father who sent me. The one who is least important in your eyes is actually the most important one of all.” Luke 9:47-48 TPT
When I picture this scene, I see Jesus walking ahead or behind His disciples, as they’re smacking each other, posturing, and puffing themselves up to look like each of them was the best. I see Jesus take a deep breath, shake his head, maybe chuckle a little, and then look around to where the nearest little kid is. Then, I can imagine Him bringing this little kid to his side and teaching this lesson to His disciples in earnest–just like He and every other Rabbi would have been prone to do.
They would have understood this object lesson in a way we as Westerners don’t. Often, we tend to look at this lesson without understanding the significance of this child. We tend to cherish children in our culture. We focus on them. We care for them. We prioritize them. We value them.
Children were not viewed this way in Jesus’ day.
Children in Jesus’ day were at the bottom of the social/cultural ladder. They had no worth in the here and now. Their only worth was found in their future potential. Consequently, children who didn’t show potential or who showed no future promise because of their birthright, intelligence, appearance, or gender were equal to nothing more than a literal possession. Even those children who did show promise weren’t valuable as anything more than their possibility to be valuable as adults.
The only people who cared for and paid attention to children were women. Men didn’t pay attention to children because paying attention to and caring for children was viewed as below them. It was a woman’s place.
But, Jesus.
Jesus pulls one of these children from the crowd, one of the literal least of these. As the disciples are arguing over which one of them is the best, Jesus pulls the lowest of society to His side and teaches this important lesson:
If you tenderly care for this little child on my behalf, you are tenderly caring for me. And if you care for me, you are honoring my Father who sent me. The one who is least important in your eyes is actually the most important one of all. Luke 9:48 TPT
I can’t help but think about the disciples’ backgrounds. These men lived in a culture where education past middle school was reserved for the brightest and the best and education with a Rabbi of Authority was only for the creme de la creme. And, these guys were in neither of those categories. They lived their entire lives in a culture that rewarded them for being the best of the best.
It’s no wonder they desired to be the best–their culture engrained this ideal in them.
Jesus comes along, though, and He flips this narrative on its head.
He shifts the focus from being the best of the best to tenderly caring for and elevating the least.
“The one who is least important in your eyes is actually the most important of all.”
Inward vs. Outward Focus
If you’ve been around here for a minute, then you know I grew up in a church that taught me a ton about performance and faked perfection. We spent our time trying to annihilate our friends in Bible quizzes instead of loving on the least of these.
Even though I’m, thankfully, out of that toxic church environment, this is still a reminder I need, and I’m guessing it’s one we could all use at times.
See, if we’re not careful, it’s super easy for us to fall into the habit of focusing on ourselves, what we’re accomplishing, how well we’re performing, and whether or not we’re the best without even realizing it.
We spend our lives making the Kingdom of God about us, but Jesus spent His ministry making the Kingdom of Heaven all about “them.”
We look inward, but Jesus constantly focused outward.
Jesus didn’t care which one of His disciples was the best, but, even more than that, He didn’t want them to focus on which one of them was the best–He wanted them to focus on who was the least and elevate them from their lowly position.
He wanted them to quit focusing inward and focus outward.
While we might not be arguing with our friends over who is the best Christian, we can definitely find ourselves suffering from this same inward focus, can’t we?
Friend, this isn’t an easy task. It’s not easy to switch your focus from your own progress, performance, and success to seeing the needs of others and focusing your energy on meeting those needs. What does switching your focus look like in your world?
How much would our world change if we stopped focusing inward and truly turned our energy and focus outward to the least of these?
Reflections:
Who are the least of these in your world? Who is God nudging you to see and elevate?
How can you start looking outward more?
What are habits you can change to allow you to see and engage with those who are looked down on in your world?
