NOTES for Luk 17:36

Speaking of the coming of the Kingdom, the Savior speaks of the division between those who enter it and those who remain outside. It turns out that there are no outward signs distinguishing those who enter from those who remain, at least at first glance.

Two apparently identical people, leading the same way of life, living side by side, in the neighborhood or even in one house, occupied with the same work, may turn out to be on different sides of the boundary separating the Kingdom from this world. As we can see, everything listed is not decisive when the issue concerns the Kingdom. Something else proves important, something that cannot be seen with physical sight.

This is no surprise: Jesus more than once said that the Kingdom begins in a person's heart and only then becomes an external reality, at the end of time embracing the whole universe. But here is the question: will those in whose heart there is no Kingdom see it? And if they see it, what will it be for them? From the Savior's words quoted here this is not entirely clear. But it is possible that the Kingdom can truly be real to the end and in fullness only for those in whom it already abides in the heart. Of course, this does not mean that everyone else will see nothing.

The text says nothing about what those taken or left will see. But it is quite possible that they will find themselves in different worlds, in different realities. During Jesus' earthly ministry, too, those near Him experienced miracles, were healed, walked on water, in short, in a way quite clear and obvious to themselves they abided in the Kingdom, sharing in its life, while others who did not trust Jesus noticed nothing.

Of course, one cannot be completely certain that at the Savior's return in glory everything will be the same, but one cannot exclude something similar, perhaps in other forms and on another scale. Indeed, one cannot remain in the spiritual space of the Kingdom without having it within, without living its life. For such people it will be inaccessible, though close; they may well find themselves in the physical space of the Kingdom, but its spiritual dimension will nevertheless be closed to them. What this will mean for such people, what it will look like, we can hardly imagine today. One thing alone is clear: it will not be what the Savior wants for them.

Judging by the Savior's words, His return will take the world by surprise. Yet it would be more accurate to speak of an expected surprise: it is no accident that He Himself compares the situation to the great flood and the destruction of Sodom. Why should this be so? The New Testament books say enough about the day of Jesus' return and the triumph of the Kingdom. Clearly, the problem is not a lack of information. It is more a matter of how seriously we take it. Today it is no secret that even among Christians, many respond to the subject of Christ's second coming in a somewhat misguided way.

On the one hand, Christians today are afraid of it. This is hardly surprising: horrors and disasters are often associated with the Savior's second coming. Of course, the Book of Revelation speaks of upheavals and catastrophes, but it nevertheless ends with a description of a new heaven and a new earth, and of Jerusalem descending from heaven, the symbol of the triumphant Church. Yet many ignore this ending, and today even Christians more often use “apocalypse” to mean not revelation, which is what the corresponding Greek word means, but a last and final catastrophe that will put an end to humanity's existence.

On the other hand, it is also no secret that many Christians today are content with medieval ideas about rewards and punishments after death, about paradise and hell, whose roots should be sought less in the Bible than in traditional Egyptian or Greek religious ideas. For many Christians, Christianity has come to be associated less with the Messiah and the coming triumph of the Kingdom than with securing a happy afterlife by fulfilling one religious prescription or another. In these circumstances, it is not surprising that the Savior's return becomes that very expected surprise even for the “Christian” world. And judging by the Savior's words, there can be no question of preparing to meet Him and the Kingdom at that point: a person either lives the life of the Kingdom and is then “taken,” or does not and is then “left.”

This is hardly surprising: a Christian's life in the Kingdom is a long process. It is precisely a life that changes a person, sometimes slowly, but steadily. Until the Savior's return, such people may live side by side with those who have no part in the Kingdom. When He returns, it will be too late to begin living a full spiritual life, for putting down roots in the Kingdom takes time as well. Of course, a final choice can be made even on the day of Judgment. But then, those who make it will probably have to be saved, in the apostle Paul's figurative expression, as though by leaping out of a fire. Not the best option, but better this way than not at all.

Continuing the tradition of Israel's prophets, the Lord speaks of the end of the world, the day when the Son of Man will be revealed, as the end of history, and reminds His listeners of events that prefigured that day. Knowing our thoroughly unhealthy interest in the end of the world, which sometimes concerns us more than the Gospel itself, the Lord directs His disciples' attention to what truly matters for us.

Both of the events He cites as foreshadowings speak of a catastrophe overtaking people because of their own sins. In both cases, God offers a way of salvation that consists in absolute trust in Him. In each case, only a few prove capable of taking this opportunity. For the others, the catastrophe comes unexpectedly, because people do not think or worry about what kind of people they are.

Continuing, the Lord confirms to His disciples that the Last Day will indeed come unexpectedly upon the world, and that the only possibility of salvation will be trust in and devotion to God. He speaks of people in identical circumstances—two in one bed and two women grinding together—whose inner disposition enables some to entrust themselves to God and prevents others from doing so. Among other things, these words of Christ matter because they help us interpret the foreshadowings: Noah and Lot are chosen and saved not on their merits, but because of their ability to believe God and leave the sinful world around them.

In the description of how the Kingdom of God comes, the word "left" looks unfamiliar. It is clear that the life of humanity bears little resemblance to what we know from Jesus' words about the properties and manifestations of the Kingdom. But it turns out that the choice for us will be exactly this: either to go into the unknown, or to remain here, but now forever. Enmity, wars, grief, sickness, and death will be eternal, which will please very few people. And one has to choose one of the two.

It seems that only in this way can today's Gospel reading be understood. But the mention of Lot's wife gives us a kind of instruction about how we must leave. Why did she look back then, despite the prohibition? Perhaps it was simple curiosity: what is happening there after you have left, how do they live, how do they die, what do they cry out when fiery rain falls on them? Perhaps it was one last look at the city where she had lived her whole life, with which so much was connected: home, family, children - everything was there, and she was sorry for everything good that had been there. Or it was the ordinary human desire to experience the past one more time, to replay in one's head several times all the fights after which one still wants to wave one's fists and come out the winner. Perhaps there are other reasons as well, sufficient from our point of view, for turning around and looking at what you will never see again. But walking with your head turned back is practically impossible: even if you do not become a pillar of salt, you will break your legs, or even your neck.

Today the Lord speaks to us about readiness—readiness to meet Him face to Face. On the day when He appears, the world will be occupied with its ordinary affairs. Yet we too have ordinary things that we must do each day—we need to eat and drink, buy and build. How, then, are we to be ready for the final meeting? Here the Lord recalls the rescue of Lot from Sodom (Gen 19)—he too lived in that sinful city, ate and drank, bought and sold. Nevertheless, he was different from the other townspeople. Lot lived there as a sojourner, by his own laws rather than by the customs of the Sodomites. This is what the Savior means when He says, “The Kingdom of God is within you”: although we do not see His face, we live by the laws of His Kingdom already now, in this life. These are the laws of faithfulness to God (so as not to become like Lot's wife, who turned into a pillar of salt), service and self-giving (so as to renounce one's own life and thereby bring it to life), and love for those around us (for Lot was saved because of his hospitality).

Today's reading continues the theme of the Kingdom in its eschatological aspect. In this case the subject is not a description of the end of time as the completion, or rather the rupture, of the historical process, but the very moment of the Savior's return and the final triumph of the Kingdom, apart from dates and concrete history in general. But the becoming of the Kingdom takes place in two stages: in the first stage it remains unseen, so that only a few know about it (vv. 20-21), and only later does it become visible to everyone; this visible manifestation of the Kingdom for all is the essence of the second stage (vv. 22-37).

It should be noted that in the first stage the Kingdom abides not only in the hearts of those who remain faithful to it, but also in their gatherings (the corresponding Greek expression can be translated not only as "within you," but also as "among you"). In fact, this first stage is unfolding before our eyes. We live in the age of the coming of the Kingdom, which has not yet revealed itself in all its fullness. And today's reading reveals to us the meaning of the Church's existence, which the apostle Paul calls "the body of Christ": it comes down to bringing the Kingdom into the world. Christianity is not a new religion and not a new morality, and Jesus is not a religious reformer or a teacher of ethics. He created neither a new theological school nor a new religious organization. He left in the world only a community of people who would live one life of the Kingdom with Him. The Church was founded by Him as just such a community. That is why bringing the Kingdom into the world turns out to be the Church's main task, and all its other activity is only forms and ways of solving this main task.

At the end of time, when the invisible becomes obvious to everyone, the Church becomes the spiritual core of the new, transformed world. And this end does not come naturally, not as the logical completion of the historical process, but as its rupture, as a supernatural event and therefore unexpected for everyone. The Kingdom cannot triumph by a natural path in a world spoiled by the fall and lying in evil; it can include that world in itself only by radically changing and renewing it, and such a process cannot pass smoothly, without affecting anyone or causing anyone trouble. Such a thing would be possible only if every person in the world accepted the Kingdom. But a person is free in choosing, and God does not predetermine anyone's fate. That is why the world is divided into those who are "taken" and those who are "left." The triumph of the Kingdom is predetermined, but each person chooses his own fate.

When asked when the Kingdom He preaches will finally come, Christ answers in a very strange way. On the one hand, it "will not come in a visible way"; it is "in your midst"; it is already growing in those who share in it. On the other hand, Jesus paints apocalyptic pictures of the end of the world, the day when the Son of Man, like lightning, "will flash from one end of the sky to the other."

What does He want to say through this contrast? How can the hidden coming of the Kingdom be reconciled with the thunder, lightning, and fiery rain of the Second Coming? Before us, it is not simply two different pictures of eternity entering our world, but also two ways of life: one can live in vain, "selling, buying, planting, building," drowning out with one's bustling activity the signs of the coming Kingdom; or one can already live in it, or rather bring it into being in life, in relationships with people and with God, cultivating the Kingdom "in our midst."

The Kingdom of God is said to be within us, or, in another translation, among us. In any case, we must acknowledge that it begins close to us, in our hearts, and is reflected in our relationships with those around us and in our deeds. People are accustomed to waiting for its coming as some external force that will change the world for the better and establish order, arranging everything wonderfully for everyone regardless of our efforts, which are assumed in advance to be pointless. But it is no accident that the Lord calls us to follow Him and to be His fellow workers: we are not called to passivity.

Looking at the vast number of false messiahs who pass themselves off as Christ, one cannot help wondering whether the prophecies about the nearness of the end of the world are coming true. By focusing on some signs and ignoring others, we really can fall into a trap. But here is one of the circumstances mentioned by Christ: at the moment of the Second Coming, ordinary daily life will still be going on. This means that we should not listen to those would-be preachers who urge us to abandon everything and wait for the end of the world. No, normal life must continue.

It is difficult to understand the words about those who save their soul losing it if we are guided by human considerations. But this is about being saved not from what we are trying to save it from, but from what the Lord saves us from. By failing to understand what true salvation consists in, we destroy ourselves.