Have you ever watched someone else succeed and felt that little twinge inside that wanted to trip them up? Maybe not literally, but you've thought it. "Who do they think they are?" That's exactly what's happening in a closed-door conversation Jesus has with His disciples in Capernaum, and Mark gives us the unredacted transcript.
Last week we saw Jesus catch the disciples arguing about who was the greatest. He flipped their whole framework upside down:
"If anyone desires to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all."That was lesson one—humility. Today, in just four verses, Jesus tackles a second kingdom principle: exclusivity. And it's an error that happens all the time, in churches, in families, in your own heart.
A Question Worth Floating Out There
Right after the humility lesson, you'd expect silence. Instead, John speaks up. Not Peter—John. It's easy to forget that before John became known as "the apostle of love," he was a hotheaded young man nicknamed "Son of Thunder," the guy who wanted to call fire down on a whole city for rejecting Jesus. This moment is one of many that slowly sanded down his rough edges.
John says,
"Teacher, we saw someone who does not follow us casting out demons in Your name, and we forbade him because he does not follow us."Read that again. Someone was casting out demons—in Jesus' name, for Jesus' glory—and the disciples shut him down. Not because he was doing wrong, but because he wasn't part of their crew.
Imagine your kid coming home and saying, "Hey, I saw a kid riding his bike down the street, but don't worry, I put a broomstick through his spokes." You wouldn't say, "Good job, son." You'd say, "What is wrong with you?" That's basically what John did to a man doing kingdom work.
The Subtle Slide of Putting Yourself Next to Jesus
Here's what's sneaky about this error. John never said, "He doesn't follow Jesus." He said, "He does not follow us." Without even realizing it, John had slid himself into the same category as Christ. He'd made the inner circle the standard instead of Jesus Himself.
That's how exclusivity works. It rarely announces itself. It just quietly redefines the test. Instead of asking, "Is this for God's glory and in line with His will?" we start asking, "Is this person like me? Do they worship the way I worship, vote the way I vote, do church the way I do church?" And if the answer's no, we reach for a broomstick.
Look, there are real doctrinal differences among genuinely Bible-believing, Jesus-loving churches. We can't all co-labor in the same building doing ministry ten different ways—that would be chaos for the flock. But disagreeing on secondary issues is not the same as being divided as the body of Christ. I have friends I love and trust deeply who see some things differently than I do—continuationism, the timing of the rapture, worship styles—and they are out there winning souls for the kingdom like crazy. We're not enemies. We're teammates running different routes on the same field.
Jesus Lowers the Bar and Widens the Grace
Now watch how Jesus responds. He doesn't scold John for tattling. He corrects the whole posture:
"Do not forbid him, for no one who works a miracle in My name can soon afterward speak evil of Me. For he who is not against us is on our side."
Then He goes even further, dropping the bar so low it's almost shocking:
"For whoever gives you a cup of water to drink in My name, because you belong to Christ, assuredly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward."
John set a really high bar—"someone," and only if they run with us. Jesus broadens it to "whoever," and the bar drops all the way down to a cup of water. Not a healing. Not a demon cast out. A Dixie cup of water, handed to someone thirsty, in Jesus' name.
Which is more impressive—casting out demons or handing someone a cup of water? Obviously casting out demons. But which is more important? Neither. There's no ranking system in God's economy between the dramatic and the ordinary. As one commentator put it, there's no distinction between trivial and important tasks—only faithful obedience shown in devotion to Jesus. The person quietly setting up chairs before service isn't less valuable than the person up front teaching. They're just as available to what God's called them to do that day.
Who's the Hero of Your Story?
Here's the phrase that ties this whole passage together: in My name. Whatever we do—giving water, cleaning up someone's yard, forgiving a debt, casting out darkness—it has to be for God's glory and in line with His will. You can't have one without the other. You can't do something wicked and slap "in Jesus' name" on it like a bumper sticker, and you can't do something good and quietly let yourself soak up the credit.
Picture someone who's given a million dollars with the instruction to keep half and give half away. That person starts blessing people right and left—paying mortgages, covering anniversary dinners—and people start saying, "Wow, you're so generous, you're amazing." The temptation is to let that praise land on you. But the hero of that story isn't the guy handing out cash. It's the one who gave it to him in the first place. What you've freely received, you're just freely giving. Jesus said it plainly: whoever isn't against us is for us. The real question isn't whether someone belongs to your tribe. It's whether they're pointing people to Jesus.
So here's the question to sit with: are you for Jesus, or just indifferent about Him? Not hating Him doesn't mean you're for Him. And when you see someone else doing kingdom work differently than you would—different church, different style, different level of polish—don't put a broomstick in their spokes. Put fuel in their tank. Cheer them on. One more soul reached for Christ is a win, no matter whose "team" gets credit for it, because it was never about the team in the first place. It's about the name of Jesus, and Jesus alone.
This article is drawn from the message "Mark 9:38-41 | The Error of Exclusivity" preached by Pastor David Ax at Calvary Chapel Star. Watch the full message on our YouTube channel.
