Today's reading brings us back once again to a passage connected with the theme of the apostolic proclamation. Unlike Matthew, Luke mentions a certain wider circle of seventy apostles about whom Matthew says nothing. But this does not change the essence of the matter: the seventy apostles receive from Jesus the same instruction that was given to the twelve closest disciples. Apparently, Jesus allowed no esotericism in His circle and had no special secret teaching for the “initiated.” And when the apostles returned, elated by their victory, and told their Teacher about the healings and exorcisms they had performed, He advised them to rejoice not in these successes, but in the fact that their names were “written in heaven” (vv. 17–20).

The point is, of course, not that the successes of His apostles in proclaiming the Kingdom were unimportant to Jesus. He simply considered it necessary to set the emphasis correctly in His disciples' spiritual lives. Visible successes always attract attention. And the apostles' attention was apparently fixed on the actions and manifestations of the Kingdom that accompanied their proclamation. Here there is always the danger of becoming absorbed in the process and forgetting what matters most. One can bear witness to the Kingdom only when one is rooted in it oneself. Such rootedness does not arise by itself; it is given by God and needs constant strengthening. For a person who physically lives in a world not yet transformed and lying in evil, abiding in the Kingdom is itself a distinct spiritual task.

But something else is important here as well. Bearing witness to the Kingdom is not an end in itself either. At first sight this sounds paradoxical, for Jesus Himself and all the apostles are occupied solely with bearing witness to it in word and deed! And yet bearing witness to the Kingdom is secondary. In the end it resembles an author displaying a work he has created: he himself, and sometimes some of his friends, invites everyone interested to look at what the author has managed to make. But what if such a work needed constant renewal and could exist only in this way? Then the chief task would clearly be not the display as such, but the creative effort directed towards renewing the work itself.

In the case of the Kingdom, the witness finds himself in precisely this position. One can bear witness to it only by manifesting it, and one can manifest it only by renewing one's own spiritual life through contact with it, a life that cannot be renewed in any other way. It then turns out, paradoxically enough, that the witness's chief work is not to bear witness to the Kingdom, but to live in it, and to live openly, in full view of everyone. This is how the chief task Jesus gives His disciples is accomplished: the growth of the Kingdom, which after His return will embrace the whole world.

The disciples are glad that they have become heralds and co-workers of God's Kingdom, victors over demons and healers of diseases. But Jesus stops them: "You are rejoicing over the wrong thing"... God gives those who believe in Him many good and amazing things (if they can see them), but the chief value of His Kingdom is not this.

The disciples, and with them the readers of the Gospel, are blessed, happy already because they have seen and heard what the prophets and sages of antiquity only dreamed of: they are witnesses, witnesses not only of miracles, healings, victories over evil, but they are near the very Center of God's Kingdom.

So this is not an abstraction, not paradise, not an afterlife, not gifts and miracles, but God Himself, revealed to people in His Son Jesus.

The Lord's disciples were people just like us. They also argued, were afraid, were vain, were proud... But they knew how to trust. They followed Jesus, leaving everything, although they had no idea what awaited them. They cast out demons and healed the sick, believing that in the name of Jesus a demon would leave and the sick would be healed. They rejoiced like children that it worked.

This very ability - the ability to trust - is what we have lost. We need proof that we can do something; it is not enough for us to know that God thinks we can. In response to God's request to do something that we consider impossible for ourselves, and sometimes simply difficult and unusual, instead of trusting and doing what God asks us to do, we say to God, "Prove to me that I can do it." And when it turns out that yes, I can, instead of thanking God who gave us this opportunity, we boast about our abilities.

There is nothing wrong with rejoicing that we do something well, because when God created the world He said, "It is good," and the ability to create something new has been given to us by God, so we too can sometimes say those words. But we cannot say them without adding, "Lord, I thank You," because without God we can do nothing.