NOTES for Mar 1:11-12

The Savior's earthly ministry begins with the descent of the Spirit of God, followed by the testing in the wilderness, described in more detail by other evangelists, and by the ministry itself, the testimony to the Kingdom. Mark describes all this briefly and concisely. What, then, is before us: a unique feature of Jesus' ministry as Messiah, or a universal spiritual algorithm of some kind, insofar as one can speak of algorithms at all when speaking about spiritual life? Or perhaps both? Of course, Christ's path is unique. But on the other hand, Jesus was not born a human being in order to have nothing in common with us, including in matters of spiritual life. We will not have the same tests that awaited Him in the wilderness, although something similar may certainly await us too: the devil is not as inventive as people sometimes think. But in any case we will have to testify to the Kingdom, provided we are Christians in more than name. And the descent of the Spirit of God will also certainly become part of our spiritual life, provided, of course, that we do not remain forever, spiritually speaking, children who have taken the first step toward the Kingdom and then stopped barely over the threshold. But how all this will happen remains an open question. Sometimes similar or identical spiritual processes take very different forms under different external conditions. Each person has his own, and there is no point in imitating someone else's spiritual life. In any case it is useless, and almost always it brings only harm. Not to mention that, in the case of the Messiah, such efforts look, among other things, simply ridiculous. Jesus did not come into our world so that we would imitate His life, nor did He come in order to force each of us to go through the same path He went through. After all, none of us is capable of that; one would have to be free from sin. Jesus came into the world in order to give us the Kingdom, to everyone who wants to enter it. And also in order to help us get there. Of course, the path into the Kingdom is no less difficult than the path of righteousness in pre-Christian times. It is just as impossible to walk it without God's help as it was impossible to walk the path of righteousness without His help. But on the path into the Kingdom there is an obstacle that is in principle insurmountable for the human person: the sinfulness of fallen human nature. And if along the path of righteousness a person is still able, with God's help, somehow to walk, then each of us can only be carried into the Kingdom in someone's arms. The whole earthly path of Jesus was needed precisely so that afterward He could carry each of us into the Kingdom in His arms. Of course, this by no means implies that there will be no tests in our life or that we will not need the help of the Spirit of God. After all, it will not work to travel the entire way in the Messiah's arms, and life in the Kingdom requires the ability to walk. But He will help us overcome what is insurmountable for us. Otherwise we would have to forget about the Kingdom. Forever.

So we begin reading the Gospel according to Mark. Following the evangelist, we will remember and live through the Gospel events we know so well, relate them to our own life experience, and try to change ourselves so that we may become at least a little more like "the pioneer and perfecter of faith, Jesus" (Heb 12:2). How many times have we read this Gospel? Where should we begin this time? Mark begins his account with words about John and the baptism of Jesus. In order to receive the Good News of Jesus, the people had to repent, to recognize that they did not correspond to the coming Kingdom of God. And how are we to apply to ourselves the words of the prophecy: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make His paths straight"? It is here, at the very beginning of the road, that we face the need to reassess and reconsider our whole life so that we may be able to follow Mark into the later stories, in each of which we can meet the Lord Jesus.

We are used to the idea of holiness. People are very fond of praying to saints, and then, when zeal becomes excessive, they turn into a kind of pantheon of lesser gods. But faith does not tolerate anything done out of habit. Such a crystallized image of holiness must be mercilessly broken apart. We can remember that we are all saints at the moment when we receive Communion, for it is said, "Holy things for the holy."

But we can also remember the image of John the Baptist. He is first among the saints, greater among those born of women (Matt. 11:11), the limit of human holiness; in him holiness abides in the fullest way. And yet "the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he" (Matt. 11:11). Why does the Lord say this? Precisely in order to warn us against creating pantheons. It is precisely for this reason that the image of John helps overcome the tendency described above toward deifying what is not divine, since prayers to him are not nearly as widespread as, say, Marian prayers.

And if we think about it, what two special human beings stand, as it were, above the human race? The Theotokos and John the Forerunner. The Deesis row of the iconostasis in any Orthodox church says the same thing. But we are not used to praying to the Baptist. Maybe it is worth beginning sometime, with God's help, and asking him to teach us not to make an idol for ourselves (Ex. 20:4)?