It is not hard to imagine the mixed state of the Pharisees after Jesus forced the Sadducees to be silent: the One with whom they were used to arguing had put their opponents to shame. For that reason the lawyer's question about the two greatest commandments looks like a kind of probing: could He perhaps be drawn over to their side? It is hard for the Pharisees (and not only for them) to grasp that in fact they should have made the decision to cross over to His side. Moreover, even today many ideologues cannot resist the temptation to present Christ as their predecessor and like-minded ally; they too want to recruit Him into their camp. But what looks coherent in propaganda articles falls apart when it meets Reality.

And so Christ answers the Pharisee's question. But in doing so He does not simply give an answer to this particular question; He reveals the central foundations of faith and life. It is understandable that He named the words about love for God, absorbing all one's strength and aspirations, as the greatest commandment. However like it He called the commandment about love for the human person, which may have seemed strange to people accustomed to placing religious concepts above everything human. And yet this is exactly what Christ brought to people and what sets Christianity apart from all religions.

Of course, the commandment to love people is not equal to the commandment to love God; it is only like it. But in Christianity the human person is raised as high as no teaching raises him. And only Christ finally destroys the impassable barrier between God and people.

For the disciples of Christ, for whom this Gospel was written, their faith and hope were bound in the closest way to the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead after His execution and burial. That is precisely why the brief account of Jesus' opponents, who tried to prove the impossibility of resurrection, was so important to them. Their argument, which at first may look like meaningless casuistry about a nonexistent situation (seven brothers for one wife), is in fact strong precisely because of its absurdity. There is so much absurdity and evil in the world that death appears more like a cure for pain and deadlock. What will happen if all people suddenly "rise," that is, return to this life, with all its imperfection and limitation? How can seven brothers share one unfortunate woman?

Christ answers from an entirely different position. Resurrection is necessary because every person is in one way or another connected with the living God. And this means that in the resurrection a person lives by the life of God Himself, free from human absurdity and pain.

The text of the psalm that the Lord quotes to us today is astonishing in its prophetic power. It is simply hard to believe that such a thing could have existed pre factum, before the tri-hypostatic being of God was revealed to us. Therefore, of course, opponents of Christianity have always tried to disprove the fact that this was a prophecy, because it is so powerful.

For this reason John Chrysostom, in his homilies on the Psalms, greets his listeners precisely with apologetics when the discussion turns to Psalm 109. This is what he writes. "When we assert that this is plainly spoken of Christ, the Jews do not accept it, but devise something else." Then he lists the options proposed as God's interlocutor: Abraham, Zerubbabel, or even the whole people. The saint refutes all these versions with great emotion. "Is it reasonable to refer to Abraham the words: From the womb before the morning star I begot Thee?" How can this be applied to David, or Zerubbabel, or the people? What is said here surpasses human nature. Moreover, the text speaks of a "Person who has an extraordinary and wondrous priesthood: Thou art a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek." But then "they say: 'How do you allow another Lord, when Scripture clearly says: "The Lord your God. The Lord is one, and Him alone shall you serve, and there is no God besides Him" (Deut 4:35, 6:13). But for whose sake, tell me, was this said? Chiefly for the sake of your ignorance, O Jew. Why was nothing like this said to Abraham, or Isaac, or Jacob, or Moses, but only to you, when, after coming out of Egypt, you made yourself a calf?"

But we know that we confess monotheism. Of course, it is much easier for a person of our century than for a person of John Chrysostom's time to understand this apparent contradiction. We understand that inter-hypostatic communion is possible, because it has been revealed to us by Christ. Yet the unity is not violated. More than that, we ourselves are called to realize the same unity, a unity undivided and unconfused. "As You, Father, are in Me, and I in You, may they also be one in Us" (John 17:21).