Faith and long-suffering are symbols of Christian steadfastness in trials. When the Lord helps us, when all suffering ends, we often begin telling everyone about what has happened. And at that very moment we often drown out the voice of Christ addressed to us. Christ says to almost everyone He heals, "do not tell anyone." He calls us to silence, to finding peace, to the struggle against the noise produced by the surrounding world.

In fasting we ask that the spirit of humility, patience, and love be sent down to us. To receive these gifts, we need silence. Silence as time for conversation with Christ. And in our prayer, whether we pray according to rules or in our own words, few words are necessary. They are necessary precisely because Christ's work is accomplished in silence and secrecy. In the silence of morning and the slight chill of dawn, His friends and disciples learn that He is not in the tomb. That He is risen.

Jesus forbids the healed man and those who accompanied him to spread the report of the miracle that had taken place, of which they had become witnesses. And this is not the first time He has proclaimed such a prohibition. It looks very much as though Jesus wanted the event of healing, the event of divine intervention in a person's fate, to remain a mystery, a secret between Jesus and the one who had been healed. And all for the simple reason that a miracle can happen only on the personal level; and only on that level, in that inward and hidden dimension, does God reveal Himself to a person. For any miracle, in the end, whether healing, rescue in the midst of mortal danger, or something else, if it is, of course, perceived as a miracle and not as a random coincidence, is a flash of divine light in our life. And such a flash is our personal, intimate glimpse into the depths of life, into the depths of God, the appearance or sharpening of the ability to hear the "harmony of Heaven."

As for outside observers, for them everything "miraculous" is most often perceived as some kind of divine trick, or as the deeds of a good magician providing for the material well-being of his charges. It was precisely from this perception that Jesus wanted to protect everyone who might hear the story of the miracle or see someone they knew healed. After all, in the final analysis, the purpose of every word and action of Jesus, and therefore of God acting through Him, is to open a person's eyes to his real disastrous condition and, what is still more important, to show the path of liberation: liberation from being fixated on one's own problems, from attempts to get rid of them by one's own strength and to be happy at the expense of others and only for oneself... Incidentally, this may be why the witnesses of the healing of the deaf-mute also turn from amazed outside observers into active participants in the miracle. For they meet God in the act of their compassion and active care for their maimed fellow tribesman, whom they "brought to Jesus."

Speaking of what could become support for his readers on their difficult path, the author of the letter especially singles out readiness to support one's brothers, the "saints," that is, Christians (vv. 10-12), and hope in the immutability of the promises once given by God (vv. 13-15). He reminds them that when God swears by Himself, He does so because He cannot swear by anyone else higher than Himself (vv. 16-20). Such a statement seems completely obvious, but as we can see, it was quite relevant in a time when people were ready to doubt everything, including the covenant made with God and the promises He had given. In fact, a certain cooling of spiritual life was, as we can see, largely connected with a loss of trust: many thought that after the catastrophe of 70 all the former covenants had become obsolete, including those God made with His people through Abraham and Moses. The author of the letter insists that God remains faithful to His people, faithful to all covenants and to all promises once given.

But He gives no proofs of His faithfulness except the Messiah-High Priest, who opened to all who seek the way into the Kingdom. After all, God Himself is the highest witness to His own faithfulness, and by definition there can be no other. Strictly speaking, only the Kingdom is proof in this case: unlike Jerusalem and the Temple, it did not collapse, did not disappear, and did not close itself to the faithful. But in order to acquire it, trust is needed, and this requires a definite spiritual effort. If the one seeking an answer did not want to make that effort, if he did not even try to struggle with his distrust, then he could not receive any answer. Thus a closed circle formed, and it could be broken only by throwing oneself toward God the way people throw themselves into the water from a sinking ship: there is nothing to lose, it will not get worse, and what remains is to decide and use the last chance. And if the one seeking salvation truly made that decision, he acquired both trust in God and the Kingdom as the best proof of His faithfulness.