NOTES for Mat 20:17-34

The disciples ask Jesus again and again who will be first in the Kingdom. And it is no wonder that this question occupies them so much: they still could not fully break away from the ideas about the Messianic Kingdom that were widespread in those days. It seemed to them to be something not earthly by nature, yet quite earthly in everything that concerned relations between the King and His subjects.

Meanwhile, Jesus immediately points out their mistake, explaining that His Kingdom is completely unlike the kingdoms of this world: in His Kingdom, to be "above" means to serve those who are "below," and the King in this Kingdom voluntarily serves each of His subjects (vv. 25-28). And yet, valuing their sincere intention, Jesus does not discourage His disciples, does not force them to be silent or to give up. He does, however, tell them directly that they have no idea what they are asking for, because to sit at Jesus' right and left hand in His Kingdom means, first of all, to share with Him His way of the cross (vv. 22-23).

Still, the disciples apparently did not fully understand their Teacher. They may have thought they would have to share persecutions with Jesus, but they plainly did not expect Him to die the death He had to die. And they still imagined the Kingdom itself as something external, like what many people then expected, hoping that when the Messiah came He would drive the Romans from the sacred land and restore an independent Jewish state, where He would rule as God's Servant.

Jesus, seeing and understanding all this, nevertheless promises the apostles that they will share His cup (v. 23), and there is a logic to this. Indeed, no human being can ever imagine in advance the whole earthly path he will have to walk. If any one of us could see at the very beginning of his spiritual path everything that awaits him, hardly anyone would decide to set out. But such a picture would be inadequate from the start: seeing the difficulties ahead of us, we would not be able to imagine our own capacities, which at the beginning of the path we do not yet have. For as we walk the path, we ourselves change, so that when we enter a new stage and face new difficulties, we meet them no longer as we were in the beginning. But the goal of the path must be known from the very beginning; otherwise it is easy to lose the road - and perhaps it is not so terrible if that goal appears to us from a distance not as it will turn out to be when we come closer to it.

So it was with the apostles: they saw the goal of their path, they sought the Kingdom, and Jesus supports them, even though their ideas about the Kingdom are still rather vague and in some ways mistaken. Nothing can be done about this: there are truths that become understandable only when a certain part of the path has already been traveled. The disciples had the main thing: thirst for the Kingdom and trust in the Teacher. Everything else could be learned along the way.

The meaning of the story about the two sons of Zebedee is that it is impossible to be near Christ without being like Him, without walking His path. We can say that the goal of our Christian life is drawing near to the Kingdom, entering into close communion with God through Christ. But it turns out that one cannot simply "sit at the right or the left side" of Jesus. Thus Christian life comes down to becoming like Christ, or, as the Apostle says, growing into the fullness of His stature.

Of course, knowing what happened to Jesus, with the association of the cup being the cross, we would hardly express readiness to drink His cup as the two apostle brothers did. But is there another way to be like Him, simply by living a long, carefree, and happy life?

Jesus is heading to Jerusalem, where His Kingdom is to be fulfilled in its fullness. And the disciples are ready, as those close to Him, to share with Him the glory due to Him. They are ready to recline beside Him at the meal, after first performing the ritual washing together with Him, and to drink from His royal cup. But He stops them: they have no idea into what depth He must descend or what cup He must drink.

These lines of the Gospel were written not only to describe the apostles' lack of understanding and their ambition. They were addressed, and are addressed now, to the new disciples of Christ who are just as ready to share with Him the promised triumph, but do not want to remember that the Kingdom of God is realized paradoxically: in service and self-sacrifice. The Son of God came into this world to serve. What did we come here for?

So Jesus speaks openly for the third time about His coming arrest, condemnation, crucifixion, and resurrection. The words about resurrection always sound like a kind of period, the end of a sentence. And the disciples' attention does not settle on them; they are absorbed in vexed amazement at such an incomprehensible fate for the Messiah. They do not want, and perhaps still cannot, accept what the Teacher is telling them. So it is no surprise that they understand the words about the twelve thrones as triumph in this earthly life, and in just this triumph they want to take the fullest possible part...

The mother of the sons of Zebedee comes to Jesus with a request. And what does He do? Though she has already said why she came, He asks her a question: "What do you want?" Jesus gives her the chance to stand face to face with Him and become aware of what is happening. To look inside herself, to look at His Face... How often we, like this woman, do not trouble ourselves with such a "waste" of time. And how amazing it is that the Lord does not always grant what we ask.

The deafness of those who listen to Christ is sometimes astounding. This applies, however, not only to His earthly contemporaries, but also to us today. He has just warned the disciples once again about what must happen to Him in Jerusalem, and immediately the mother of two of them is busy asking Him to secure better places for her children. One can, of course, try to interpret her request as an expression of faith in Christ's final triumph, but the optimism of such faith looks far too easy, closing its eyes to the sufferings that must precede the triumph.

Meanwhile Christ, by asking the disciples whether they are ready to drink the same cup as He does, warns them precisely about the sufferings of the cross and asks whether they are ready to share them with Him. They answered that they were able, scarcely understanding at that moment what they had agreed to. But with time they became ready for this, and their words became true.

It is characteristic that the other disciples, who also scarcely realized the full measure of what the Teacher would have to endure, began to be indignant at the brothers over the wish expressed by their mother. Christ, however, at that moment does not let them fall upon their brothers with personal accusations; He shifts the conversation to a discussion of the basic question of domination. Here Christ offers the disciples completely unprecedented norms of relationships - not to dominate anyone, but to serve one another. This means that apostleship too is not power over souls, but service.

And here He also reveals that He Himself came into the world not so that anyone would serve Him. But if He does not want people to serve Him, then whom do we resemble before Him when we try to push others around? Do we not resemble the forgiven debtor who tries to tear the debt from someone who in turn owes him?

It gives the strong impression that the disciples have suddenly gone deaf. Jesus speaks clearly and plainly: soon I will be killed. The disciples do not react at all - but then a loving mother appears, eager to secure the future of her sons, and these sons do not stop her or say: Mother, He is preparing for something terrible, this is not the time...

Jesus answers not her, but James and John themselves. And He does not reject them, even though they truly understand nothing. He did not say, "What are you doing? They want to kill Me, and you are dividing up places!" He said, "Yes, you will be with Me, but you cannot even imagine what that will mean for you."

And when they briskly agree to drink the cup that Jesus will drink, He does not tell them that they will fall asleep while He is asking the Father for this cup to pass from Him, or that they will run away when He is handed over to death, though He knows perfectly well that this is exactly what will happen. He says, "Yes, you will drink My cup," because He knows that after His Resurrection the Holy Spirit will give them strength to bear witness to Him, to carry the Good News throughout the whole earth, and to accept persecution and death in His name.

Jesus is heading to Jerusalem, where His Kingdom must be brought to fulfillment. And the disciples are ready, as those close to Him, to share with Him the glory that belongs to Him: they are ready to recline beside Him at the meal, after first performing a shared ritual washing, and to drink from His royal cup. But He stops them: they have no idea into what depth He is about to be plunged and what cup He is about to drink.

These lines of the Gospel were written not only to show the apostles’ lack of understanding and ambition; they were addressed, and are addressed today, to new disciples of Christ who are just as ready to share with Him the promised triumph, but do not want to remember that the Kingdom of God is established in service and self-sacrifice. For the Son of God came into this world to serve. And why have we come here?

Jesus head off to Jerusalem, where His Kingdom has to come true in its plenitude; and his(her) followers are ready, on the right of the " drawn near " to share with Him His glory, to sit down to take meal with Him, having beforehand achieved the ablution together and drunk from His royal cup. But Jesus stops them: the followers don’t realize how deeply He will need to immerse and of which cup to drink. These lines of the Gospel were not only written to describe the lack of perspicacity and the ambitions of the apostles, but also they were addressed (and today still) to the new disciples of Jesus, whom quite as the apostles are ready to share with Him the promised triumph, but do not want to remember that the Kingdom of God have to be accomplished within the service and in self-sacrifice. The Son of God came into this world to serve. For what did we come here on earth)?

"Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us; we wait for light, and behold, darkness - for brightness, and we walk in gloom. We grope like the blind along a wall and, like people without eyes, we feel our way; we stumble at noon as at twilight, among the living like the dead. We all growl like bears and sigh like doves; we wait for justice, and there is none [of it] - for salvation, but it is far from us" (Isa 59:9-11).

We must always remember that everything that happens in the Gospel has multiple layers of meaning, and those layers do not contradict one another at all, as some, even modern exegetes, sometimes suppose. Today's passage about the healing of the two blind men is no exception. On the one hand, there is the direct, real, living meaning of what happened. But precisely because it is direct, it often turns out to be alien to us. Well, He healed them; but what is that to me if my beloved, wonderful grandmother, sick with retinal dystrophy, is slowly but inevitably sliding toward complete loss of vision, and nothing can help her, no matter how hard the doctors try?

This is the age-old problem with the direct meaning, which would seem to be the simplest, but turns out to be beyond people, becomes a stumbling block for them, and becomes the reason they leave God. But in fact it is much easier to begin by looking for more complex, indirect paths of interpretation, paradoxical as that is. And such a spiritual interpretation of this passage can be seen in Isaiah's prophecy. Let us repeat that both interpretations are valuable, but the second is easier to understand and accept, while the first is harder. For someone, of course, the opposite may be true; and in any case, once one interpretation has been understood, one cannot rest content with it. So then, our life far from God is not life in darkness, no, because the Light shines everywhere, but we do not see Him because we are blind. "We stumble at noon," Isaiah writes, and here this sounds especially clear: even when the Lord pours the maximum light upon us, we do not see Him.

Let us think about ourselves. Even when grace is given to us so generously, we manage to fall into small sins, or even into real sins. But if these sorrow-filled words of Isaiah apply to us, then his next words, full of joy, also apply to us.

"I, the Lord, have called You in righteousness, and I will hold You by the hand and keep You, and I will give You as a covenant for the people, as a light for the nations, to open blind eyes, to bring prisoners out of confinement and those sitting in darkness out of the dungeon." (Isa 42:6,7)

The prophecy has been fulfilled. But this news has not yet reached all the ends of the world, the boundless world of our unfortunate blinded souls.