NOTES for Mat 19:29

In the passage from the Gospel according to Matthew that we read today, the Lord says two things that are important for our understanding of holiness. First, a disciple of Christ is someone for whom the Lord Himself and the confession of Him matter more than anything else in life; someone ready to lose everything, even his own soul—that is, his life—for Christ. Neither deeds nor spiritual or other achievements, nothing makes a person Christ's disciple except the concentration of his entire life around one center, the “one thing needful”—Christ.

No less important are the final verses of chapter 10: the Lord speaks of how the holiness of His disciples is expressed. It is the ability to receive other people and do good to them. The scale of the good deed is entirely unimportant—even if you can do nothing but give a cup of cold water to someone who is thirsty, you will not lose your reward. The holiness of Christ's disciples is expressed precisely in their attitude toward people; everything else is beside the point.

If these words are taken directly, so to speak with mathematical strictness, they turn out to be insurmountably difficult. Where is the selflessness here? What is disinterestedness here? To give in order to receive a hundred times more - that is simply an incredibly successful investment!

In fact, something completely different is meant here. When such doubts overcome us, one text comes to mind. The person who wrote it found faith while awaiting execution for murder. He had no education, and for that very reason the text itself is perceived simply as a miracle. This is what he writes: 'Yes, I accepted faith in mortal danger, when it was unknown whether I would be pardoned or not; but even in childhood, when dogs attacked in the yard or neighborhood boys threatened to beat me, I ran to my parents. So what is strange in the fact that now I run to my Heavenly Father?'

Here lies a very important distinction. Did he accept faith because in his situation it was the best way out and nothing else remained for him? Because it was useful for him to think that God and immortality exist? 'Benefit,' a clever and cold atheist will think. But if one looks closely, how much sincerity there is in these words, how much childlike trustfulness there is in them, then not with the mind - no, in no case - but only with the heart can one feel that the truest truth is hidden precisely here.

And then you understand: the essence here is not calculation and not the search for benefit. One simply needs, like a child, with eyes squeezed shut, to cling to God as to mommy who has come to pick you up from kindergarten - and then... only then is it given to you.

In the book of Judges we read the story of Gideon's calling. The Angel of the Lord comes to him when he was about to hide from the enemies, and Gideon asks how it happened that the Lord had abandoned His people. "The Lord looked at him and said, Go in this strength of yours and save Israel from the hand of the Midianites; I am sending you. [Gideon] said to Him, Lord, how shall I save Israel? Look, my clan is the poorest in Manasseh, and I am the youngest in my father's house. And the Lord said to him, I will be with you, and you will strike the Midianites as one man."

And now let us read the Gospel passage. After Jesus overturns the disciples' ideas about the role of wealth in a person's salvation, they cry out bitterly, "Who then can be saved?" Jesus, looking at them, utters one of the most important phrases in the whole Gospel: "With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." And then, as in Gideon's case, He encourages the disciples who are aware of their weakness and smallness: "But many who are first will be last, and the last first." Notice this word "looking" in both cases. Did the Lord not look at His conversation partners before this? He did, but before saying something very important, He establishes a special contact, "eye to eye," so that the listener will not miss what is about to be said.

We often expect God to say something to us; we are afraid of missing it, and rightly so. Still, we can hope that if He wants to say something truly essential to us, He will "look" at us, and we at Him.

What advice can be given to someone who wants to live a worthy life, so as not to be ashamed later of years lived without purpose? Probably the same advice Jesus gave the young man: keep the commandments, live according to the Word of God—that is, receive from God the revelation of the life He has conceived and try to fulfill His design. It is not so very difficult to be a good person: do no harm to others, be honest, be faithful to God and people, and live in love. What more is there? What further perfection can one speak of? Apparently, when God descends to earth, He brings with Him another, new path of righteousness: a person lives not only according to God’s Word, but by God Himself—through unceasing communion with Him, following Him, and placing hope in Him alone. Earthly wealth then becomes out of place, and things once valued lose their meaning: houses, lands, and family ties. How could one not go away sorrowful? Or, after all, is everything possible for God?

It can be said that the young man himself "asked for" the proposal to give up his possessions, since at first he was simply told to keep the commandments prescribed for everyone. But then he declared that he had kept all this, that is, the commandments, from his youth.

Of course, one can ask another question: is the young man claiming too much for himself, since it is very hard never to break a single commandment even once? But let us suppose that the young man managed to live blamelessly. Even so, in that case he still feels that something is lacking for him; his spiritual hunger is not satisfied. What should he do next? And only after this does Jesus propose that he make a difficult decision.

But the proposal corresponds to the request: the commandments given for everyone are not enough for you; you wanted to surpass the general level, so do what surpasses what is offered to the rest. And so the young man leaves, unable to do what he himself had asked about.

The words Jesus speaks to the disciples after the young man leaves are full of sorrow. If we listen closely, He is grieving that earthly wealth blocks people from heaven. We are used to applying these words to those who are especially rich, but if we think carefully, even people of modest means, or even the poor, may have some very small treasure that blocks heaven no less, or even more, than millions of dollars or vast estates. It is hard for even a very thin and unloaded camel to pass through the eye of a needle.

But Christ again and again invites us not to cling to earthly wealth. After all, He gives us not only everything necessary for earthly life, but much more as well, that which surpasses any earthly wealth.

The disciples’ horror is understandable: if it is so difficult for a rich person to be saved, what can be said of the poor, who often have no opportunity to fulfill the precepts of the Law? Christ confirms their intuitive realization: salvation—that is, passing into a new life with God and being delivered from hatred and unbelief—is altogether impossible. It is impossible for human beings; God alone can accomplish it. Those closest to salvation, therefore, are those who do not suppose from the outset that they are capable of drawing near to God by their own power. The young man, who had kept the chief commandments since childhood, was clearly a very good person. Yet his wealth—not money, but confidence in his ability to “be perfect”—leads him away from the Gospel message that “all things are possible with God.” He “goes away sorrowful,” thereby losing his “wealth of spirit” and gaining the possibility of entering the Kingdom together with the disciples, not by his own righteousness but through the almighty power of God’s love.