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Every church has its rhythms — sermons to prepare, songs to sing, events to plan, ministries to staff. It’s easy to become so focused on “church work” that we overlook some of the quietest voices in our congregation: the children. Yet in Matthew 18, Jesus makes it undeniably clear — those little ones are at the very center of His kingdom’s attention.
The disciples approached Jesus one day with a question that probably seemed perfectly reasonable to them: “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” (Matthew 18:1). It’s a question adults still ask, in one form or another — Who’s most successful? Who’s most effective? Who’s most important?
Jesus responds by calling over a child. He places that child right in front of them and says, in effect, “You want to know what greatness looks like? Look here.”
“Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (v. 3).
Jesus isn’t calling His followers to childishness, but to childlikeness — to innocence, trust, humility, and dependence. Children don’t compete for status. They don’t try to prove they belong. They simply receive love, and they believe it freely. That’s the posture of the true disciple.
Children’s ministry, then, is not just about children. It’s also a living picture of what faith is supposed to be. When we serve in children’s ministry, we’re not only teaching; we’re learning. We’re reminded that the kingdom belongs to those who trust as children do.
In verse 5, Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” That’s an astonishing statement. To welcome a child — to value them, to make space for them, to show them the love of Christ — is to welcome Jesus Himself.
That gives enormous eternal significance to what might seem like small acts:
• The volunteer who wipes a toddler’s tears in the nursery
• The Sunday school teacher who prayerfully explains a Bible story
• The youth helper who listens when a kid shares their worries at snack time
These aren’t just logistical supports for “real ministry.” They are ministry — rich, sacred work that touches the heart of God. Jesus identifies with the least — and in His eyes, a welcoming spirit toward children reflects how we welcome His own presence among us
Then Jesus says something sobering: “If anyone causes one of these little ones 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 depth of the sea.” (v. 6).
That’s heavy — and intentionally so. Children are precious to God, and He expects His people to treat them with the same care He does. It means our churches must be places of safety, nurture, and truth. We must guard children from harm, confusion, and neglect, not just physically but spiritually.
But this passage isn’t only a warning — it’s a revelation of how deeply God values children. Later in the chapter, Jesus tells the parable of the lost sheep (vv. 10–14). Even one wandering child matters enough to warrant a rescue mission. “Your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.”
That’s the heartbeat of children’s ministry. Every lost child is worth finding. Every child who hears about Jesus is worth the effort, the time, and the sacrifice. Because every child is seen and loved by the Father.
Children’s ministry isn’t just a program; it’s a calling. It’s not a babysitting service; it’s discipleship in its purest form. Jesus uses children as an object lesson for adults, but He also treasures them as individuals whose faith and joy reflect His kingdom.
Too often, the church measures its vitality by adult engagement — attendance numbers, giving, or volunteer hours. But maybe the truest measure is how our children are being shaped to know and love Jesus. Are they being told, week after week, that they matter to God? Are they being given opportunities to experience His presence, hear His Word, and see His love through us?
When we invest in children, we’re planting seeds of lifelong faith. We’re building a foundation the Holy Spirit will grow over decades. And perhaps even more, we’re modeling what Jesus said greatness really looks like — humble, faithful service to the least among us.
So the next time you see a volunteer herding a line of preschoolers down the hallway or a teacher cleaning up crayons after class, pause and remember: that is sacred ground. Kingdom work is happening there — quiet, faithful, beautiful work that Jesus Himself delights in.
Children’s ministry is one of the purest reflections of the gospel we have. It’s where humility, service, and love meet in the simplest of ways. In welcoming the little ones, we welcome the King.