Managing Jesus?

A strange and humbling role reversal happens as we grow older. Somewhere along the way, our children start to become ‘our’ caregivers. They give us advice on how to eat better, remind us to take our medications, and worry about whether we’re getting enough rest. They say things like, “Don’t drive at night, Dad.” or “Mum, you really shouldn’t be lifting that.” At some point, the parent becomes the child.

As parents, it can be a hard shift for us. We’re used to being the ones in control: the decision-makers, the fixers, the protectors, and then, all of a sudden, we’re on the receiving end of concern and guidance. It’s humbling, sometimes frustrating, and even a little unsettling but beneath it all, there is a strange gift: a reminder that letting go of control, and allowing ourselves to be cared for, is not a sign of weakness, but of trust.

I often think about how this situation mirrors our relationship with God. Just as we have trouble relinquishing control to our adult children, we also struggle with letting go and trusting God’s guidance. Like the disciples in Mark’s Gospel, we have a tendency to try to ‘manage’ Jesus rather than simply receive his grace with open hearts and gratitude.

Peter, one of Jesus’ closest followers, was especially good at trying to ‘manage’ Jesus. When Jesus began to speak openly about the suffering and death he would face, Peter jumped in and tried to set Jesus straight: “No, Lord, this isn’t the way!” Peter wanted a strong, victorious Messiah, not Jesus, the suffering servant but Jesus’ response to Peter was sharp: “Get behind me, Satan! You are thinking from a human perspective, not God’s.

Peter, like many of us, wanted to shape Jesus’ mission to fit his expectations. He wanted to manage Jesus so that he could keep things neat and predictable. Time and time again, Jesus resisted Peter’s attempts, reminding Peter, and us, that his ways are higher, and his Kingdom doesn’t work according to our desires.

The truth is the desire to control Jesus didn’t stop there. When crowds gathered and resources seemed scarce, the disciples tried to send them away, managing the crisis by avoiding it.

When someone outside their circle performed miracles in Jesus’ name, the disciples told him to stop, trying to manage who got to use Jesus’ authority.

And when parents brought their children to be blessed, the disciples shooed them away, deciding for themselves who was ‘worthy’ of Jesus’ attention.

But Jesus turned all of these actions upside down when he said, “Let the little children come to me. Do not hinder them for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  Children, seen as unimportant, vulnerable, and dependent were the ones Jesus pointed to as the ideal receivers of God’s Kingdom. Why? Because children can’t control or manage anything. They can only receive.

The good life, Jesus tells us, isn’t about getting everything in order or about trying to steer God’s plans. It’s about letting go. It’s about learning to receive like a child, with humility, dependence, and trust.

This kind of surrender isn’t easy. Perhaps the most powerful example of it is found, not with the disciples, but with Jesus himself. In the Garden of Gethsemane, facing betrayal and the crucifixion, Jesus fell to his knees and prayed, “Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” Even Jesus, the Son of God, uttered a prayer of childlike trust and surrender: “Not my will, but yours.”

It’s a prayer that calls us to radical humility and openness. When life doesn’t go according to our plans, when we’re faced with situations we can’t control, can we trust God enough to let go? Can we, like Jesus, pray: “Not my will, but yours”?

It’s hard to do, but a good life isn’t about holding everything together. It’s about releasing our grip, and trusting that, in God’s hands, things will be held together far better than we could ever achieve ourselves. It’s about letting ourselves be cared for, just as we once cared for others. Maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said we must receive the Kingdom of God like a child?

So, next time your adult children remind you to be careful, or urge you to take it easy, take a moment to appreciate the gift they are giving you. Perhaps it’s a reminder of what God asks of us every day: to let go, to receive, and to trust that even when we’re not in control, we’re still deeply loved and held.

This is the gospel, and it’s good news.

Brian Spencer, Minister, Waranga Uniting Churches