NOTES for Luk 17:1

Evil and sin don't really please us; and it is correct. It is impossible for all that is in the world, some taking place in spite of the truth, in spite of the Creator's will, in spite of good and beauty, to not provoke protestation to a normal person. But it is inherent to us to “be aggrieved" against God because "He allows all this to occur ", relieving responsibility from ourselves for "all that". Why is it so much evil in the world? - a regular question, but badly formulated. The Lord Jesus Christ asks the followers to take the problem of evil completely differently: actively and with responsibility.

"Offences" - All which brings doubt and disappointment in the faith, all which provokes the disgust to people - such is the sense of the Greek word "skandalon" which uses the evangelist. They are already in the world; therefore it's already too late to carry on conversation to know how they happen… "Woe unto him, through whom they come!" - here is what is really important for the moment. And if we refer to the most important questions of our lives, then we can say that The Lord directs the attention of the followers on "what to do", and not on "who is guilty ". He says that the dissemination of evil can be stopped by the will of people, and it isn't some kind of people, but indeed we (you and I). It is impossible that offences come, since they already exist in this world. But it is very important and even major that they don't come through us - it is apparently the only way to resist evil.

It is still substantial that if we make efforts (even in the least degree) not to be the source of evil, the failures on this road and God's forbearance towards us help us to find an answer to two questions: on the origin of evil, and on the reasons of God's forbearance.

Jesus' words about occasions of stumbling are often split into two parts, and only the first is used: the part that says that such occasions inevitably exist in this world. Why exhaust ourselves and try to live by the law of love if these occasions of stumbling will catch up with us anyway? Taking this reasoning to its logical conclusion, some say that there is no reason to regard Judas' act as terrible if the Messiah would have been betrayed in any case. In a sense, this turns Christianity into fatalism: the advent of evil is predetermined, so why hate the fruits of evil in the world and try to renounce them? But what Jesus offers us contains no predetermination: occasions of stumbling will come, sin is present in the world, evil exists and acts, but this is no reason to become a conduit of evil and a source of stumbling ourselves.

Today's reading is entirely devoted to describing the spiritual state of those who come into contact with the Kingdom. It is no accident that it begins by affirming human spiritual freedom (vv. 1–2). Of course, in a world lying in evil there will always be sinners, until its complete transformation, but this in no way excuses those who choose the path of evil and sin: each person is answerable before God for his own choice. Yet in the Kingdom a choice, like repentance for any sin, remains possible until the end of time, when the Kingdom is revealed in all its fullness. That is why Jesus commands us to forgive a brother who has sinned if he repents and asks forgiveness for what he has done (vv. 3–4).

But genuine repentance is impossible without the inner spiritual wholeness that the disciples have in mind when they ask Jesus to “increase our faith” (v. 5). In reply, Jesus not only points out what the faith of a spiritually whole person can do (v. 6), but also explains how such faith can be acquired (vv. 7–10). He compares His disciples with slaves not in order to belittle them, but to explain how a person seeking the Kingdom must regard his ministry. Just as it does not occur to a slave that by carrying out his master's command he has earned something or may lay claim to something, so a person who has fulfilled what God entrusted to him must under no circumstances think that he has deserved anything or has a right to anything. Such an attitude is evidently possible either out of having no alternative, as is usually the case with a slave who has nowhere to go and knows that he will receive no reward for his work, or out of the fullness of trust, when the relationship with God and with people is so deep that His will is fulfilled as something self-evident and a person does not even think of demanding any reward for his labour. Such relationships require a person to surrender himself completely to God's will, and if he resolves to do this, he truly acquires the spiritual wholeness that makes faith able to “move mountains.”

But what comes to the fore here is, of course, neither the possibilities that open up nor even the spiritual state in itself, but the relationship with God and with the One Whom He sends into the world. It is no accident that Jesus pays such attention to one of the people He healed, who returned to thank Him (vv. 12–19). Of course, Jesus recedes into the background here: the healing itself takes place on the way, as though without His direct participation. But perhaps He acts in this way so that those who were healed will look upon Him not as a wonder-worker, but as the One Who brought the Kingdom into the world. He leaves them free: anyone who does not wish to thank Him need not do so, and will not fall ill again. It then becomes clear that a relationship with Him mattered to only one of the ten. Ten people came into contact with the Kingdom, but only one entered it: the one to whom not only health mattered, but also the One Who brought this Kingdom into the world.

As the Savior's words show, the question of faith is directly connected with the question of spiritual life as such. What does it mean to increase faith? How did the disciples themselves understand an increase in faith? They must have meant something connected with the confidence they experienced when, at their Teacher's command, they preached the Kingdom and joyfully saw that not only people, but also spirits obeyed them. In those days, this sense of power was usually associated with faith, with its presence or absence. Jesus, however, is speaking of something somewhat different. He speaks of faith as a spiritual state. Precisely and only a spiritual one. After all, any manifestation of inner strength in a person is a natural phenomenon as much as a spiritual one. Here there is not only the spiritual impulse as such, not intention alone, but also nature and the psyche, which also respond to spiritual influence. But Jesus speaks only of the spirit. Only of the will. Only of intention.

Spirit is not nature. Quantitative measurements are impossible here. Spirit, or will, does not come in larger or smaller amounts. If the will is not fragmented, if it is not scattered through inner, psychological space or outer, physical space, it has absolute force. Not in the whole universe created by God, of course; only the will of the Creator Himself has that kind of power. But at one concrete point, it certainly does. That is why faith the size of a mustard seed is enough to move a mountain from its place. Faith here is not inner strength, and certainly not conviction about anything at all, but the fullness of relationship with God. It is that same fullness which, when directed toward creation, becomes the source of an infinitely powerful force, if only it is fully concentrated on something specific. But reaching that kind of concentration is not easy. No psychological techniques will help here.

This concentration is a derivative of that fullness of the life of the Kingdom which, in principle, has been opened after Christ's coming to everyone who seeks. It is the same fullness whose experience lets a person serve without counting merit: we have done what we were supposed to do; we are only servants who do not deserve a reward. It is the fullness in which one understands that every sin is absolutely destructive, and that, although sin is inevitable in the fallen world, complicity in it is always an existential catastrophe for a resident of the Kingdom. It is the fullness that is possible only in the Kingdom and without which there is no Kingdom. The fullness for which alone it makes sense to live.

The paradoxical nature of God's Kingdom penetrates the most hidden areas of human life. Today, at the center of the paradox is faith. This may be the most difficult word in human language, because we almost always use it for the wrong purpose. For example, when the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith, it turns out that they are asking for the wrong thing. They could move mountains even with an insignificantly small faith (a "mustard seed" is clearly something very small). But what could be more important? After all, Christ says many times to different people, "Your faith has saved you." This also happens with the healed Samaritan leper: the miracle of healing itself happens to all ten, but "faith saved" only him. And what kind of faith could this heretic have? The others went to show themselves to the priests, which was exactly what their faith required. In both cases, by "faith" Christ clearly means not quite what the disciples mean by it, or what you and I usually mean.