Today's reading returns us once again to the testimony Jesus gives about Himself. Apparently, the events in the evangelist's account took place on the day commemorating the dedication of the Temple (v. 22; the “feast of renewal” mentioned in the text could also be called the “feast of dedication,” in keeping with the meaning of the Greek word). For believing Jews, the day of the Temple's dedication was a day of God's triumph, and on that day the coming of the messianic Kingdom was awaited with particular feeling. It is no surprise that on such a day Jesus was expected to give a direct answer to the question of whether He was the Messiah (v. 24).
But Jesus' answer was quite unexpected by those who questioned Him. They apparently hoped He would tell them plainly when He would do what people expected of the Messiah in those days: raise a revolt, drive the Roman troops out of Judea by God's power, and restore an independent Jewish state there, establishing laws in full accordance with the Torah. Yet the Savior tells the people around Him something else. He says: you have already seen everything I do, and I have nothing more to tell you. This answer was entirely logical: Christ had no intention of doing any of the things His listeners expected. He could only reveal the Kingdom to them, as He had already done more than once (vv. 25-27). The Lord's chief gift, clearly, is not a restored Jewish state but the fullness of God's life, which He is ready to offer to everyone willing to receive it (v. 28).
Then comes the testimony about Himself that made devout religious people pick up stones (v. 31). Jesus says: I and the Father are one (v. 30). He reveals to His listeners the central mystery of His messiahship and His ministry: He shares one life with God. He is human, yet the fullness of God has entered the bounds of His human nature, and therefore so has the fullness of the Kingdom; He is ready to give both to everyone who thirsts for them. An ordinary human being, of course, cannot contain the fullness of God as Jesus Himself does. But thanks to Him—and through Him—this fullness, once wholly inaccessible to humanity, has in principle become accessible to everyone. It now depends only on each person whether he will partake of it.
This thought, it seems, was precisely what the people surrounding Jesus found utterly intolerable (vv. 32-33). And no wonder: to accept what He said, they would have to tell themselves and others honestly that the history of religion was over—the history of every religion, including the Judaism to which Christ's listeners belonged. The meaning of any religion lies either in the search for God, when pagan religiosity is concerned, or in maintaining a relationship with the God who reveals Himself to people, when a religion of Revelation is concerned. But the Savior offers something more: He offers the fullness of God's life in His Kingdom. There is nothing to seek here, because the essential thing has been revealed, and there is no need to make special efforts to maintain a relationship with God, a relationship that nothing threatens in His Kingdom. Here people live with God, simply and naturally, communing with Him and participating, according to their opportunities and abilities, in the life of the Kingdom. Here religion becomes unnecessary.
For a religious person, naturally, it is very difficult to accept this, because religion has formed the foundation, purpose, and meaning of his entire life. The Jews surrounding Jesus wanted the messianic Kingdom to be not so much God's kingdom as the kingdom of their religion. Now they had to choose between their own desires and God's revelation, and Jesus calls them to choose the Kingdom. But every person is free, and each makes his own choice.
