NOTES for Luk 11:27-28

Every person lives simultaneously in two worlds: an inner and an outer world. The inner world is the world in which we are alone with ourselves and with God, where we pray, rejoice in the sky and the sun, grieve and weep over our own sins and those of others, seek paths, shape ourselves, make decisions, and are exactly what we truly are. There is also the outer world, where a small part of what exists in the inner world is realised, made actual, clothed in matter, and serves as a real connection with people and the world. If we are to pray for the ordering of these two worlds, then we should ask Mary for the inner world and Martha for the outer.

It is impossible to say which world is more important, just as it is impossible to compare two living people whom Jesus loved, Martha and Mary. We cannot assign them grades and say that this one behaved correctly and the other incorrectly, as one so often hears when people say that we should imitate Mary and not Martha. It is better to imitate no one, but to listen to the spiritual call with which the Lord addresses you and to consider creatively how you can respond to it.

If we return to the interpretation of this parable, largely shaped by R. Guardini's work “The Lord,” as a parable about a person's inner and outer worlds, then perhaps the most important thing we see is the love between Mary, Martha, and Jesus. Someone may object: but Martha grumbles at Mary and even complains about her to Jesus. Yet we should not judge superficially here. It is better to try to live through this situation and hear the intonations of its participants. One has the impression that without a special love and closeness between them, such a dialogue simply could not have taken place; it could happen only between people who were truly close to one another.

And this, it seems, is the main thing: the harmony of our thoughts (Mary) and actions (Martha) in God. Harmony despite outward contradictions; let them remain, while harmony exists somewhere at a very deep, personal level.

Today we read a composite passage from the Gospel according to Luke. The second part of the reading tells how "a certain woman from the crowd lifted up her voice and said: Blessed is the womb that bore You and the breasts that nursed You." These words, like Peter's words near Caesarea, are a form of confessing Jesus as the Christ, the promised Messiah from the line of David.

Later, when the Pharisees demand that the Lord stop those crying out "Hosanna to the Son of David," He will say: "If they keep silent, the stones will cry out." In exactly the same way, if this woman had kept silent, the stones would have cried out, because if we believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the incarnate Son of God, then we cannot fail to glorify the One through whom this incarnation took place.

Her blessedness as the Mother of Her Creator is the pledge and condition of our salvation; without Mary's Son we would still remain in hell. Eastern hymnographers of the first millennium often speak of the All-Immaculate One as the new Eve, whose obedience corrected Eve's sin, just as the obedience of Her Son healed Adam's sin. And it is important for us, with reverence and love, to remember two more things. First, standing at the foot of the Cross, the Most Holy Virgin gives Her Son to God and to us, so that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. And second, in establishing the New Covenant with us, the Lord Jesus gives us as food and drink His Flesh and Blood, which He received from the Most Holy Virgin.

Jesus' answer to the woman's exclamation is astonishing. In the Synodal translation ("But He said: blessed are...") this is not visible at all, and in Slavonic ("He said: therefore blessed are...") only partly. The point is that He says: "menoun makarioi..." The Greek menoun is an expression of agreement, used in the sense of "of course," "without doubt," "truly." That is, He says: "Of course blessed are those who hear the Word of God and keep it." In this form, these are precisely words about the Most Holy Virgin: "Without doubt, She is blessed, for She heard the word of God and fulfilled it." And this is not only a statement of fact, but also an indication of the path for us.

Today's reading includes two episodes joined by the evangelist into one account. It begins with the disciples' question about prayer, in response to which Jesus offers them, and through them all of us, the "Our Father" (vv. 1-4). Luke, as one can see, focuses chiefly on the importance of asking, and of asking persistently, as a necessary condition for receiving what is asked (vv. 5-13). It would seem that God is not a human being who needs, like a forgetful or unfriendly steward, to be reminded again and again of what is requested. On the other hand, persistence in this case turns out above all to be evidence that a person remembers his request and that it is truly important to him. Indeed, is it worth granting a request that the one who asks forgets the very next day? One can ask this way only for trifles; important requests are those that a person who truly cares about them is ready to repeat again and again, confirming the seriousness of his intentions.

The same seriousness is at issue in the second part of today's passage. The point is not only that the very idea of casting out demons by the power of their ruler was absurd (vv. 17-18, 21-22). The point is also that for those arguing, everything Jesus did was a kind of game, something remotely resembling their own disputes, which were undoubtedly fascinating but, in essence, demanded no commitment. This explains the demand for a sign that would prove Jesus right (vv. 14-16).

The proof had to be theologically correct; it had to correspond to the "right" ideas of the "right" rabbinic school in order to be accepted. And until such proof was presented, anything would do as an explanation of what was happening, including absurd claims about the "prince of demons." But Jesus Himself was not going to play these games, because for Him everything He did was absolutely serious. And He tries to explain to His listeners the full seriousness of what is happening (vv. 24-26). The games are over; what is at stake is a person's spiritual life and spiritual death.

But professional disputants, as one can see, have no concern for that. What matters to them is whether Jesus will manage to outargue them or not. And in their disputes they lose the Kingdom without noticing it. For the Kingdom is not a game; it is serious. And forever.

It would probably not be wrong to say that the central message of Christ's preaching is the message of the Father. In many other parables, the Lord portrays God in a way close to Jewish ideas and perhaps sometimes necessary for us: as a King who has absolute power over His subjects. But in today's parables He appears only as a father who loves his children whatever they may be like, or as a friend ready to help even at the most inconvenient moment.

Jesus' listeners know from their own experience that, however gloomy and unkind a person may be, he is still capable of showing tenderness and care towards what is dearest to him—his children. They also know that people are able to help one another in need even when it is unpleasant for them. Now, Jesus says, understand one simple thing: God is better than you, kinder and more generous—can He really be a worse Father to you than you are to your children? In this light, the prayer “Our Father” becomes not simply one possible form of addressing God but an astonishing revelation of the mystery of the Father's love, stronger and more tender than anything else in the world.