NOTES for Joh 7:52

The words of the leaders of the Pharisaic movement that a prophet "does not come from Galilee" have their historical grounds. On the one hand, Galilee is part of the land God promised His people, it lies within the borders of that land defined by God, and as part of it Galilee is of course no worse than any other part.

But historically it happened that in the Second Temple period, when traditional Jewish theology was forming and theological schools were taking shape, Galilee found itself on the periphery of the Jewish world. There were no major schools or academies there like those, for example, in Jerusalem, Babylon, or Alexandria; this land knew no teachers famous throughout the Jewish world, and none of the later prophets was a native of Galilee or preached there.

From a theological and spiritual point of view, Galilee was regarded as a deep province. There were, of course, Jewish communities there, but in Gospel times Galilee was a semi-pagan region, where influences of non-orthodox Jewish movements such as the Essenes were also fairly strong. It is not surprising that learned experts and teachers of the Torah, as well as the spiritual leaders of the Pharisaic movement, expected nothing interesting from Galilee. Neither a prophet nor the Messiah could arise from there.

And in general, that was where the very people lived who, according to the learned rabbis, were "ignorant of the Torah" and therefore "accursed." Of course, the point was not that believing Jews living in Galilee did not read the Torah; that was simply impossible. The point was these simple believers' ignorance of the learned theological tradition of which the leaders of the Pharisaic movement considered themselves the bearers.

These leaders were absolutely convinced that both the prophets and even the Messiah Himself could now be connected only with their own circle, that God looked at them in the same way they looked at themselves, seeing in them the spiritual elite of the Jewish people, the very messianic remnant that the Pharisees proudly proclaimed themselves to be. They could not even allow the thought that God saw the matter differently.

That is why they so easily refuse to take seriously the entirely reasonable arguments of such a respected and authoritative man in the Sanhedrin and in the Pharisaic brotherhood as Nicodemus: for them there is no question here and nothing to discuss. It is not surprising that such a position makes the figure of Jesus of Nazareth as Messiah completely unacceptable to them: such a thing simply cannot be, because it "can never be." And the way into the Kingdom is closed to them. Not because they were defenders and guardians of tradition, but because at the center of that tradition they saw not God, but themselves.

The Pharisees had a clear idea of who the Messiah was and what signs should accompany Him. And then Jesus appears, working miracles and speaking as no one before Him had spoken. Many, seeing this, accept Him, if not as the Christ, then at least as a prophet. Even the Temple officers begin to doubt that His preaching can be harmful to Israel.

But for the Pharisees there is a law into which this simple man from Galilee, despised by the Jews, does not fit. The law says plainly that the Messiah is to be expected from the line of David, and therefore they do not even want to "hear Him and find out what He is doing." Was that the very step they lacked in order to see clearly? Then the truth known only to those close to Jesus would have been opened to them: that He was born in Bethlehem, that He is of the line of David. Sometimes, in order to understand God, we simply need to hear Him out to the end, and not judge by relying on our legalistic ideas about His providence.

The logic of the Pharisees and chief priests is astonishing. What difference does it make how This Man speaks? There is one main criterion: what have the authorities said? This way of thinking completely rejects such notions as inner perception and feeling... There are official directives, and those are what one must follow. But the Lord acts first of all in people’s hearts, and no theoretical instructions will help us recognize Him. If we close our hearts, if we do not listen to God, our relationship with Him remains pure theory.

What is most important to us in Christianity? This question arises by itself when you read lines like these from the Gospel, when you look at church divisions and scandals, when you see your own and others' misunderstanding of the Good News. The Lord speaks about things that are fundamental and common to all people - about thirst for the Spirit, without whom any religion, any society, any life becomes stuffy and stale. He speaks about the fact that faith in Him will not remain a barren, dry idea, but opens to a person access to the rivers of the living water of the Spirit. But this is not what troubles the people and the scribes. What matters more to them is an inconsistency in the origin of the potential Messiah: since He must come from the line of David, He must also live in Bethlehem.

What could the Lord object to this? Tell them about His miraculous birth in the city of David? But they do not listen to Him even when He speaks about the most important thing. How, then, can they (and sometimes we) understand His words and draw near to the life-giving element of the Spirit?

Today's reading lets us see what religiosity can turn into when living spiritual experience is completely ignored. Of course, in itself it does not exclude the possibility of full communion with God, but on one condition: if religion occupies a subordinate, auxiliary position, remaining only a means for expressing and embodying revelation. Meanwhile any religious tradition becomes self-sufficient if special efforts are not undertaken for its spiritual renewal. And if politics is mixed into religion, as happened in Judea in the Gospel period, this happens even faster.

And, as we can see, the majority of the Jewish religious leaders of the Gospel era did not even try to look at the situation that had arisen in Jerusalem because of Jesus' preaching (vv. 40-43) from a spiritual point of view. For them He was merely a violator of the established order. From their point of view He could in no way be the Messiah, since His appearance did not correspond to the messianic ideas accepted in the Judaism of that time. And besides, a prophet "does not come from Galilee" (v. 52).

Before us is absolute confidence in the truth of one's own religious tradition, which no revelation can shake. If miracles happen contrary to what religion says about them, then they are "wrong" miracles. And even if they are so obvious that many of the people believed the One who performed them directly before their eyes, no one is interested in the opinion of the people: after all, they do not know the Torah and are therefore "accursed" (v. 49). Yet among those gathered for the feast there was almost certainly not one who had not read and studied both the Torah and the other sacred books! But, as we can see, their knowledge of the Torah was different; it did not prevent them from believing in Jesus, and therefore they are, of course, "ignorant" - otherwise how would they have differed in opinion from the religious authorities?

However, authorities who depart from the "general line" also get their share: when, for example, Nicodemus dares to say that before passing judgment, and all the more before condemning, it is necessary at least to hear the accused (vv. 50-51), he is silenced. The arguments are simple and have nothing to do with the Torah, truth, or justice: you yourself must be from Galilee, so you defend your fellow countrymen (v. 52). It is no surprise that in such an atmosphere Jesus could not count not only on a just trial, but even on a more or less objective assessment of everything He said and did.

"Whoever believes in Me, as Scripture has said, out of his belly will flow rivers of living water." Bishop Cassian, in his foundational work on the Gospel of John ("By Water and Blood and Spirit") says that this is not the only possible translation. If the punctuation were different (and there are grounds for this), the phrase would mean that the water will flow from Jesus' belly. Each version has its supporters and opponents, but the bishop himself leans toward the second.

But what should we do - people not trained in philology? We can look at this from the standpoint that the history of the Word of God carries within itself not only the original truth about what was spoken by the Lord, but also a particular kind of truth, even if scientifically inaccurate, because the Spirit descends on everyone.

If this is so, perhaps it is worth looking at both translations at the same time. Of course, the second translation draws to itself the story of the Samaritan woman, and in that it is unquestionably true: only the Lord gives living water. And yet a person can become a conduit of this living water, and in this sense becomes a "secondary source" himself, to use the terminology of the theory of diffraction of light. And precisely in the fact that a person can become a source of the Spirit lies the meaning of today's feast - the Day of the Holy Trinity. This is astonishing and inexplicable, but it is so. Therefore the former translation is still important to us, even if it is not entirely correct from a scientific point of view; or rather, it would be more accurate to say that both translations are precious to us.