NOTES for Luk 13:29-30

Speaking of the Kingdom, the Savior undoubtedly has in mind the Kingdom that He Himself brought into the world, not the one usually imagined by the people listening to Him. His listeners, as a rule, imagined a strong earthly state, living according to the laws of the Torah and therefore enjoying God's protection, headed by a righteous King to Whom God had given special authority over the world and over people. Such a kingdom, of course, could also be open not only to Jews, but everyone else would in any case have to become Yahwists and accept Judaism in order to make use of what the Messiah would bring into the world.

But Jesus, meanwhile, is speaking of something else: of the Kingdom as a spiritual reality that exists independently of any earthly structures and institutions, whether governmental or social. This Kingdom enters the world through Him, and the way into it is opened by relationship with Him and with His heavenly Father. The true Kingdom of Christ is a space of relationships, above all the relationships that bind Christ with the Father. And anyone can enter the space of Their relationships, regardless of language, nationality, cultural tradition, or religious tradition. Christianity is not a religion and not even a spiritual practice, but life in the Kingdom, and therefore in the space of relationship between the Father and the Son. Here the question of who is first and who is last is not so simple. In essence, it has no meaning at all: in the Kingdom everyone receives the fullness of life that he can contain. But who will be joined to this fullness earlier is indeed an open question.

It would seem that in Judea in Gospel times there were many people whose main goal and meaning in life was precisely the expectation of the Messiah and the Kingdom. But their expectation became for them a kind of religion, or more precisely, part of their religious life, at the foundation of which naturally lay Judaism. And religion tends to become something valuable in itself and self-sufficient, often obscuring the goal for which it arose and exists.

On the other hand, there were many people in the world seeking, often without realizing it, precisely the Kingdom and its life, often not knowing where or with Whom to seek it. And if it was often very difficult for religious messianists to humble themselves before the Messiah as He is, then for seekers of the Kingdom, unburdened by any religion, it was much simpler and more natural to come to Him. And no wonder: Jesus Himself says that it is hard for a rich person to enter the Kingdom. And here it no longer matters whether we are speaking of material, cultural, or religious wealth.

The narrow gate becomes very concrete when you enter the subway carrying large bags. You have to pass quickly through the turnstile, but a suitcase, two bags, and a couple of flowerpots wrapped in newspaper are hanging from you. All this is very heavy; you very much do not want to leave it behind, and you very much want to get through. But you cannot, because one thing catches on another, everything slows you down, tries to pull free, and prevents you from reaching the place where you urgently need to go. Apparently it is the same with the Kingdom of Heaven: we very much want to enter, but to do so we have to let go of everything that is not our true self.

The Kingdom of God, the presence of Christ in our life, is often imagined as something great and bright, something impossible to miss. But in the parable of the mustard seed the Lord Jesus gives us a completely different image. The seed of the mustard tree can barely be seen with the naked eye. It is so small that it is unnoticed by an outsider, and often even by its owner.

That is, the Kingdom has already been given to us as if in potential, in the form of a tiny seed. It does not look like a great tree, like the tangible presence we long for so much. And yet, just as genetically the seed and the tree are one and the same organism, so the small particle of the Kingdom that each of us has and that must grow is the same Kingdom that appeared in its fullness in the person of Jesus.

We have read many times already that Christ's Kingdom is not like all our human "kingdoms." It is like salt in food, like yeast in dough, like a seed in the ground that has not yet sprouted. It is real, but not visible to the "naked eye." It cannot be defined by our concepts, but its presence irreversibly changes this world.

That is exactly why it is so hard to limit "membership" in this Kingdom, however much "chosen ones" of every kind try to do so. The question asked of Jesus about the number of those being saved, that is, the participants in God's Kingdom, in essence means a demand to mark the boundaries of salvation: "who is inside, and who is outside?"

This question remains unanswered: instead of a limited sect, there is a call for everyone. Yes, entering by the "narrow gate" is hard, and the chance of being left out is quite real. But the gate is not closed; it is merely narrow. And everyone for whom this is truly important and necessary can find himself at Christ's feast with those who have also passed along this path.