Who is the greatest?

Such was the question the disciples--and not just once--asked Jesus. In reply, he called a child to him and said, "Unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" (Matt. 18:1-5).

Over the generations, many have seen this passage as a command for adults to become children. But notice what Jesus really says: You are to be like children.

This passage tells us how to be members of the church. Do you want to enter the kingdom? Do you want to have greatness there? Jesus' answer was one he gave over and over: Like the child who depends on others, give up authority now. "The last will be first, and the first will be last" (Matt. 20:16). "Whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave" (Matt. 20:27). Disciples of Jesus must change, humble themselves, and welcome and serve those who do so.

In other words, children have the symbolic power to steer us in the right direction and reorient our priorities, a power evident in Jo McGowan's story ("Close encounter of the papal kind," pages 40-41) of her determination to receive a blessing for Moy Moy, her disabled daughter, from Pope John Paul II during his trip to India. This brief encounter between two frail people, both battling debilitating illnesses, turned out to be a moment infused with holiness.

Besides the surprising depth of this meeting, another unexpected development was the role--whether providential or merely fortunate--played by, well, the sudden alleviation of Moy Moy's medication-induced constipation during the papal audience. I was reminded of a recent Baptism I attended--I should say Baptisms because there were five at once--that took place during one of the two Saturday evening Masses a large and growing suburban parish celebrated in its still unfinished new church.

Toward the end of the baptismal rite, the baby next to me in the crowd of parents, godparents, and family had what one would politely call a lower-digestive-tract event. "Good for you!" I laughed to myself. "Welcome to the church. You'll do well."

These innocent reactions also find a voice in "Is beauty ancient history?" (pages 30-33), theologian Alex Garcia-Rivera's meditation on the deep connection between beauty and spirit. "Only innocence," he writes, "allows the selfless loss of self-identity in order to identify with another."

So you want to know how to be great? Take a few pointers from the humble--sometimes bodily--honesty of children. Become a child? No. Become a humble servant? Definitely.