Snotty Nose or Smarty Pants?
Why Childlike Trust Is the Only Way into the Kingdom—and Intellectual Pride Will Shut You Out._
When the scriptures speak, how do we respond?
With quiet trust—or calculated analysis?
With the heart of a child—or the scrutiny of a scholar?
I can only speak for myself, but I tend to think I grasp the things of God more than a child. So that makes it all the more difficult to stumble across the words of Jesus when he said:
Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.
(Mark 10:15)
That’s not a gentle suggestion. That’s a warning.
If you don’t come like a child, you don’t come at all.
How often do we read Scripture already knowing what it “must” mean—because if it meant something else, we’d have to change? No, we bring our assumptions, denominational “common sense,” and theological baggage—then dare to ask why God’s Word doesn’t seem clear.
We read the Bible through the lens of our favorite preacher, our trusted commentaries, or that one systematic theology textbook we treat like it's canon. Because... isn't it?
We nod politely at Scripture—but only once it validates what we already believe.
We’ve built mental castles out of tradition and fear. And when Scripture knocks, we peek through the peephole and say,
“Sorry, you don’t match what I already believe.”
That’s not reverence.
That’s intellectual idolatry—with our mind seated where only God belongs.
The entrance of thy words giveth light;
it giveth understanding unto the simple.
(Psalm 119:130)
The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul:
the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.
(Psalm 19:7)
Notice who receives understanding:
Not the proud. Not the academic. Not the philosopher.
The simple.
God says the wisdom of this world is foolishness. Yet we treat complexity like a virtue and simplicity like a threat. The simple, plain reading of the text cannot possibly be what it really means, so we redefine a word here, import a pet doctrine there, and stretch an idea just beyond what is written—but not so far as to sound obviously man-made.
We reach for systematic theology over simple narrative, pithy sound bites instead of sound doctrine, and denominational dogma in place of slow, diligent discipleship. We play at being armchair theologians and back-seat textual critics, as if familiarity with our favorite podcasts were the same thing as a seminary degree.
We’re more afraid of sounding naïve than we are of disobeying God.
Think about that.
The very idea that some five-year-old wiping a snotty nose might be closer to the Kingdom than a seminary graduate with a wall full of degrees?
That thought offends us.
Why? Because we despise the idea of being seen as “simple.”
It shatters the image we’ve built of ourselves—deep, informed, discerning. We don’t realize how tightly we’ve clenched our own reasoning until God asks us to let it go.
Paul warns in 2 Corinthians 11:3,
I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.
Paul wasn’t afraid believers would be deceived by stupidity — he feared they would be seduced by cleverness; beguiled by the subtle corruption of God's words.
Just like Eve was.
Just like we are.
SOME OBJECTIONS
We treat simplicity like it’s dangerous, but sometimes our objections sound more spiritual than they really are under the surface. So let’s cut off the objections before they hijack the conversation:
Yes—and He was crystal clear about what to do with it:
“The carnal mind is enmity against God.”
“Cast down imaginations... take every thought captive to obey Christ.”
“Lean not on your own understanding.”
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
God isn’t looking for your insight—He’s asking for your surrender. Don't opine, just obey.
He gave you a mind to obey with understanding,
not to outmaneuver obedience with intellect.
“If anyone among you thinks he is wise in this world, let him become a fool, that **he may become wise.”
— 1 Corinthians 3:18
Do you study Scripture like a disciple—
or an attorney looking for loopholes?
Of course. But if your “deep study” leads you to dispute clear commands or twist plain truths, you’re not studying—you’re hiding behind scholarship.
God didn’t say, “Understand deeply, then follow.”
He said, “Follow Me.”
The uneducated fishermen followed Him.
The religious scholars crucified Him.
No—it’s anti-pride.
Big difference.
God never condemned intelligence.
He condemned its exaltation.
A child who trusts God is more mature than a theologian who questions Him.
We don’t study Scripture to sharpen our intellect — we study to know Him.
And John was clear:
“By this we know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments.”
The Pharisees studied obsessively, and Jesus told them:
“You search the Scriptures thinking in them you have eternal life— but they testify about Me, and you refuse to come to Me.”
If being called “simple” offends you—ask yourself why.
If the simple, face-value message of Jesus ruins our systematic theology, why do we cling to our complex doctrines by redefining or explaining away the plain teachings of Jesus?
When did we start equating simplicity with weakness?
Yes, and Paul also said:
“For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”
— 1 Corinthians 2:2
He also said:
“I count all things but loss… and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”
— Philippians 3:8
Paul used reasoning to lead people to trust — not to glorify logic itself.
That is not a thesis defense.
That is a childlike message with eternal weight.
“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow…”
— Isaiah 1:18
That is not philosophy.
That is mercy.
Absolutely.
But don’t confuse testing with sitting in judgment over God’s Word.
You test prophets.
You test teachers.
You test spirits.
You don’t test whether God’s clear command is reasonable enough to obey.
False teaching rarely comes from simple obedience. It comes from pride parading as insight.
The worst heresies began not with children—but with scholars claiming secret knowledge, deep revelations, or “new” understanding.
Simplicity doesn’t ignore Scripture—it just refuses to manipulate it.
True. Some truths are deep. Some passages stretch us. But “hard to understand” does not cancel the Holy Spirit’s promise to guide us into all truth or to keep us in the simplicity that is in Christ. The carnal mind cannot understand, but we prefer to lean on our own understanding anyway.
Paul wrote some things hard to be understood... which the unstable and ignorant twist to their destruction.
— 2 Peter 3:16
[1]
That’s not an invitation to elitism.
That’s a warning against arrogance.
Simplicity ≠ Ignorance.
God reveals truth to those who wait on Him, not to those who try to outthink Him.
Understanding comes through humility, patience, and Spirit-led dependence—not mental muscle.
Conviction feels harsh to pride.
But truth isn’t violence—
and exposing the idols we protect is mercy, not malice.
I don’t say this to shame you.
I say it because I’ve been cut by the same sword—and it saved me.
You’re not being asked to be blind.
You’re being asked to be willing.
Not to unplug your brain—but to unseat it from the throne.
BOTTOM LINE:
Come like a child. Or don’t come at all.
God’s Word doesn’t ask you to interpret it into your comfort zone.
It asks you to die to pride and receive it—unfiltered, unchallenged, and undeserved.
Let that offend your intellect.
It’s supposed to.
That discomfort isn’t discernment—it’s our pride squirming under conviction.
Because the moment you feel that sting...
is the moment you finally face the one thing still standing between you and surrender:
YOU.
WHAT NOW?
Read this again. Let it grate. Let it cut.
Then ask one brutal question:
Are you submitting to Scripture—
or just flattering your intellect with it?
Truth can handle scrutiny.
But only the childlike are simple enough to obey it.
Let’s see if you’re brave enough to face that mirror.
"Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord,
according as His divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness,
through the knowledge of Him that hath called us to glory and virtue:
Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises:
that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature,
having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust."
— 2 Peter 1:2–4
Footnotes
Peter is not saying Paul preached a different gospel or a secret, advanced system of theology. He is warning that there will be people in the church who twist Paul to their own ruin.
And yet, in our day, we do exactly that. We grab Paul to argue that he preached a different message than Jesus, that he offered a gospel with no demand for obedience, and that if we actually had to obey Christ’s commands, it would amount to “works-based salvation.”In practice, we twist Paul’s careful teaching so we can feel safe in our disobedience while claiming Jesus “obeyed for us.” We hide behind Paul as a shield against the plain commands of Christ — the very thing Peter pleaded with us not to do.
Underneath much of our so-called doctrine of grace lurks the original lie: that we can disobey and still have life. Obedience is treated as optional—and, as some insist, not even possible—but that is acceptable, we say, because “grace” supposedly covers the rot while it continues to rot. We claim that Jesus obeyed for us so that we do not have to, and march straight toward the very destruction that Jesus, Paul, Peter, and every other apostle warned us about with the words, “Be not deceived.”
We dress it up with language that sounds more spiritual than that, but when you strip away the polished veneer, you still have a pile of dung. Paul preached the simplicity that is in Christ, and he called us to obey Him. ↩︎