Many of us may be surprised by the apostle Paul's request to pray "for kings and for all who are in authority" (1 Tim 2:1). We are even less surprised by the request for thanksgivings "for all people." It is easier to pray for humanity as a whole, but for the government...

Some people say that "they" are hypocrites, others that they are unbelievers, but most forget that first of all they are people. And we Christians, members of the Body of Christ, are called to be His presence in this world. We are not of the world, but "kings and those in authority" have been given authority in this world, and we are called to pray for them so that, even in the smallest measure, and even through earthly authority, the will of the King of Heaven may be done on earth.

This is possible, for there have been holy emperors, kings, and princes in history, from the most ancient times to our own day. It may seem to us that our prayer means nothing: to pray for someone's healing, for peace in a friend's family, that is still acceptable; but to pray for those who hold power, for peace on earth, that is too much. But it is not so. For example, in our own day, through the prayers and efforts of Christians, two African tribes were reconciled. And do we know what else happens, or does not happen, in this world through the prayers of our more responsible brothers and sisters in Christ? We so rarely realize the measure of our responsibility, yet we truly are members of one Body of the Church, and our prayer and our righteousness or sinfulness are not "our problems," as people now like to say, but pain or joy for the whole Church, for the Body of Christ.

Of course, each person answers for himself before God, but there are baptized people who were not raised in the faith or later lost it. And still a baptized unbeliever differs from an unbaptized person, because the whole Church prays for him at the Eucharist. That is the measure of our responsibility. We answer for these people, for those who have been joined to the Church by the sacrament of baptism but do not pray themselves. That is why it is so important to ask, pray, and give thanks for all people, "lifting up holy hands without anger or doubting."

Paul speaks of the need to pray for those representatives of authority under whose rule those seeking the Kingdom could live, in the apostle's own expression, "quietly and peaceably," in order to devote themselves to the main thing that makes up the goal and meaning of their life (vv. 1-7). Apparently this call was connected with the moods of political messianism that were fairly widespread in the circles around the Synagogue, at the center of which stood the ideas of holy war and of establishing the messianic Kingdom by force. Of course, the Kingdom itself was also understood within the framework of such views as a reality not so much spiritual as political. Paul, it is clear, speaks decisively against this political messianism.

At first glance it may appear that Paul's call presupposes complete political indifference and unconcern toward everything connected with public life. But on closer examination this turns out not to be entirely so: Paul calls for prayer for those in power so that the Church, leaving politics aside, may peacefully do its main work: witness to Christ and to the Kingdom so that the Kingdom may spread ever more broadly in the world, transforming it. A power that consciously opposes the Church quite obviously does not fit such a definition.

But the main point is elsewhere: in speaking of abstaining from participation in political life, the apostle wanted above all to remind both Timothy himself and the Ephesian church that the Kingdom, in the Savior's words, is "not of this world," so it is in no way determined by a concrete political situation and does not depend on it. There is no sociopolitical order about which the Church could say, "This is our government"; there is only one about which it could say, "This government does not hinder us." And Paul does not tire of reminding them of the otherworldliness of the Kingdom, so that none of the Christians will be tempted to mistake for it some new religious utopia like the one that seduced many of his fellow believers and kinsmen, leading in A.D. 70 to catastrophe for both Judea and the whole Jewish people.

As we can see, for Paul the goal of Christian life is "the knowledge of the truth." Such is also God's will for every person: God does not want anyone's destruction; He is not trying to assign people to some circles of hell or heavenly dwellings. He only wants each one to know the truth, and therefore to become living truth himself. In Paul's time the expression "to know the truth" had a quite specific meaning: it referred to the knowledge of God, and therefore to the way of the Torah, outside of which no knowledge of God is possible. The fullness of truth is possible for a person only when he himself becomes its embodiment, a living Torah.

This is the Christian's chief task, and it is not worth trading it away for anything else. That is why the apostle advises prayer that the outward life of Christians be, as far as possible, peaceful and calm: after all, the person carried away by outward events, especially war or politics, usually has little time left for spiritual work. Yet the mentioned goal of Christian life would remain unattainable if the Savior Himself had not "bought back" everyone who is ready to trust Him, as Paul usually puts it figuratively.

Speaking of "ransom" or "redemption," the apostle has in mind the fact that the Messiah not only brought the Kingdom into the world, but also made it possible for every seeker to enter it, regardless of what a person may have done in his former life. Indeed, a consciously committed sin, or more precisely its consequences, takes a person captive, and a sinful person cannot free himself from that captivity. The point here is not that someone is deliberately holding him, but that human nature itself, corrupted by the fall, weakens him and prevents him from living a full spiritual life.

In particular, this is also manifested in a person's becoming, as people usually say in such cases, a "slave of circumstances." More precisely, one should speak of those chains of cause and effect that a person generates by his own sinful actions and that then completely determine his further existence. In Hindu and Buddhist tradition such dependence was usually called karmic, and the corresponding patterns were called the law of karma, but people knew about them always and everywhere, even if they called them something else.

It is from this dependence that Jesus frees a person, taking his place in the chain of causes and effects created by his sins and, accordingly, taking upon Himself the consequences of the sins the person has committed. There is, however, one obligatory condition: the person himself repents of the sin committed and completely renounces it. Then it is no longer he who will have to deal with the consequences of what has been done, but his Savior, who in a sense buys him out of the slavery to sin in which the person found himself. And then the possibility opens to a person to become a living Torah and enter the Kingdom: for now the power of sin and of the evil in which the world lies ceases to be absolute over him. This means that the possibility appears of liberation from the bonds of the world's evil. And of salvation as well.