NOTES for Luk 13:31-35

Addressing Jerusalem, the Savior at the same time addresses the history of this city. Since David's time it had been not only the capital of the Jewish state, but also the capital of Yahwism. And it remained the capital up to the gospel age, apart from a brief interruption by historical standards during the Babylonian exile.

And in every age the same tragedy was played out in this city again and again. The tragedy of not accepting those who spoke on God's behalf. Not one of the great prophets of antiquity became a triumphant figure during his lifetime. Even Isaiah of Jerusalem, who had influence over King Hezekiah, in the end, judged by earthly standards, lost: his influence was insufficient to determine the policy of Hezekiah, who seemed favorable to the prophet. And although the stories of this prophet's martyrdom during the reign of Manasseh appear much later, it is possible that a real story stands behind them: under Manasseh there were indeed persecutions of the followers of the prophets.

Others were less fortunate: at best they were viewed as annoying eccentrics, and at worst as enemies of their country and their people, as happened, for example, with Jeremiah. Of course, later, already after the Babylonian exile, the Jews began to look at the prophets as great people; their legacy was studied and systematized, which is how the collections of the books of the Former and Latter Prophets appeared. But something remained unchanged, and precisely this something prevented many of Jesus' contemporaries from seeing in Him the Messiah promised by God. The issue is distrust, or insufficient trust, toward living revelation.

Jesus' contemporaries believed the prophets not so much because their life and spiritual experience allowed them to see the depth of prophetic revelation, but because by that time the prophets were already regarded as absolute spiritual authorities and the prophetic books had entered the canon of Holy Scripture. They believed not the Spirit, but tradition. And everything that did not fit into tradition seemed no less suspicious to these people than the words of ancient prophets seemed to their contemporaries.

There were, of course, exceptions, but they were few. The old tragedy was repeating itself again. But now the issue was no longer a prophet, but the Messiah. The One for whose sake God raised up His people and gave them historical life. Therefore the rejection of the Messiah inevitably had to become a historical catastrophe for them. And the Savior, of course, wants another fate for Jerusalem. But even He is not able to change the choice made by His countrymen. For everyone chooses his own path, whether an individual person or a whole people.

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.

Today's reading continues the theme of the Kingdom, but now in a somewhat different, eschatological aspect. Eschatology is often confused with apocalyptic, yet they are not the same. Eschatology is a rupture in time and history through which the Kingdom can be seen; apocalyptic is a philosophy of history in which history is viewed as the process of the world's movement towards the Kingdom.

Jesus often speaks of the coming of the Kingdom as a rupture in time, when the former order of things comes to an end. It then becomes clear that, in the face of the new reality revealed at the moment of rupture, former assessments and criteria prove inadequate. This is manifested first of all in a change of priorities: if outward proximity previously played the decisive role, spiritual relationships now do.

When speaking of outward proximity, of course, one must not have only territorial or geographical proximity in mind. National, religious, and every other kind of proximity determined in one way or another by the structure and laws of the untransformed world is also implied here (vv. 25-28). Spiritual proximity, by contrast, becomes decisive (vv. 29-30). This is why the path into the Kingdom proves narrow (vv. 23-24): it begins in a world not yet transformed, living by laws very far from the laws of the Kingdom, but in order to enter the Kingdom, one must begin living by its laws here and now.

This is neither a whim nor a test of loyalty. One can follow the path into the Kingdom only by living according to its laws. For the Kingdom itself, in our world which is not yet fully transformed, depends on those who seek it. It is no accident that Jesus draws His listeners' attention to the fact that at first the Kingdom is completely imperceptible in the world that rejects it and becomes visible only at the end, when the world is transformed (vv. 18-21). Only the person who bears the Kingdom within can find it, and such a person cannot live according to the laws of the world lying in evil. This is why the path leading into the Kingdom proves narrow. But at its end lies the fullness of life awaiting everyone who follows this path to the end.