NOTES for Co2 9:6-10

The Christian charity is well known in the world. However, not only Christian: such a practice is familiar to the Jews and to the Muslims also. But there is between the Christian charity and the charity of the Jews or the Muslims an essential difference: unlike the Jewish or Islamic charity, the Christian charity is a purely voluntary thing. Certainly not the slightest, it is understandable by the fact that Christianity, as it is sometimes called, is "a religion of love", and love supports no constraint, no "obligation". But the problem is not apparently all the same only in the relations of mutual love binding Christians between themselves. The problem probably is that Christianity is not at all a religion, but just a life in the Kingdom. Life, which is not regulated by any rules and rituals, but the commandments given by God. And the commandments in the long run should become not an external regulation, even if they are voluntarily accepted, but rather this spiritual rod, which will organize the whole life of man from the inside, and not from the outside. With such a life, of course one can’t speak about any compulsory charity, because to regulate the charity would mean, in fact, regulating the help to the neighbor, and life in the Kingdom not only doesn’t need such regulations: they are simply impossible inside it. It is not accidentally that the apostle quotes the psalm about "the giver with pleasure", who "God loves". Indeed, joy for the good, done for the neighbor, is only possible in the Kingdom and by the laws of the Kingdom, by the laws of the not transformed world the genuine joy is possible only when you are being helped. Of course, the helper, even in the not transformed world can receive from his help a famous moral satisfaction, but not for the good he did to the neighbor, but the secondary circumstances accompanying such an action (the feeling of gratitude deeply expressed by the person swamped with benefactions of the help, the approval of the society, even the pleasure caused by the feeling of the fulfillment of the religious duty). But if the helper of the next neighbor feels in addition to that a real joy, then he has been touched by the breath of the Kingdom. And Paul, understanding very well that, calls to the charity not as a tiring religious duty, but as the demonstration of the relations of the Kingdom. Relations, without which there is no Christianity.

Paul uses arguments traditional for Judaism, rooted in the equally traditional understanding of poverty, first of all as a spiritual condition and not as a material position. At first glance it may appear that this is an exchange of material values for certain spiritual ones, even for salvation.

At times the Savior Himself said something that at first glance sounded similar, when, for example, He told the rich young man who came to Him to give away his earthly wealth and receive another, heavenly wealth in return. But in reality this is not so simple. This is not a simple exchange of one wealth for another; it is rather a refusal to recognize as one's own what belongs to oneself. And this is not only about the relative nature of property rights as such, which cannot be discussed in relation to the Kingdom. It is about a person's attitude toward what he considers his own.

What do we put into the idea of 'one's own'? Do we call that something belonging to us by right, deserved, earned, lawfully acquired? Or are we speaking of something given to us for use, perhaps even lifelong use, but only for use? Regarding property we all understand perfectly well, if we take the trouble to think even a little, that it is given to us for use, if only because when we leave this world we will not take it with us. As for such things as knowledge, talents, or abilities, the situation with them is often less evident, at least at first glance, because much or all of what is listed appears to belong to us inseparably; with knowledge, for example, many are convinced that they achieved everything themselves.

But a person who has become poor in the spiritual sense understands that this too does not belong to him. At least until he has become his true self, and one can become the true self only in the presence of God, which certainly does not depend on the person at all. Truly a person possesses only himself, while the rest is given to him only for a time, and it cannot in any way replace the main thing, what God alone can give.

In such a situation, owning or possessing anything is no more than an illusion. When a person parts with this illusion, he stops looking at his riches, whatever they consist of, as his own. They are given to a person for use, and they can easily be handed on to others if that will be better for all. Shared. Donated. In a word, parted with in one way or another: given away completely, if material goods are in view, or made the possession of others to the same degree as one possesses it oneself, if knowledge, talents, or abilities are in view.

Every church community, insofar as it lives as people are meant to live in the Church with a capital C, must be just as ready to share everything it has with those in need. Not because it 'must' or is 'required,' but because the breath of God, the breath of the Kingdom, will otherwise not be able to breathe freely in that community. Just as it cannot breathe freely in the heart of a person who is not ready to share. This is what Paul reminds the recipients of his letter.

What is God's regard towards the human wealth? It would seem according to the Old Testament, that everything is clear: God blesses the wealth of people, desirable to Him. That is the rich are desirable to God. However Jesus, turns rather to the side of poor people (" a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven."), this is especially visible in several parables. But here Apostle Paul speaks again about wealth as being a gift of God. What’s it? Maybe it is necessary to understand these words in a figurative, spiritual sense? But no, Paul speaks exactly about material things, and we should not spiritualize this sentence at once.

Let's analyze. The prophets of the Old Testament already rebuked rich people in Israel for their unmercifulness. And Jesus opposes not against wealth itself, but against the way people behave towards it and how they use it. Apostle Paul continues on the same line: wealth, granted by God, always has a purpose - good works, and The Gospel invites us especially to such works.

Continuing the discussion of mutual help and donations, Paul turns to the spiritual experience reflected in the tradition of the Lord's poor, for whom poverty was not so much a material condition as a spiritual one. It was in their circles that the saying found in the book of Psalms arose: "the one who has spent everything by giving to the poor, his righteousness will remain forever" (v. 9). Apparently, the saying meant not simply almsgiving, but help for communities of the poor and donations for communal needs. And Paul, it seems, sees precisely such donations, whose practice may perhaps have roots in deep antiquity, as a model of mutual help for Christians. The members of the communities of the Lord's poor donated not only out of a sense of purely human justice. In the fact of donation, in a person's readiness to part with what belongs to him for the sake of his neighbors, they saw a sign of that complete entrusting of oneself to the will of God without which full spiritual life is impossible.

What matters to Paul above all, it seems, is this spiritual readiness of the Corinthian Christians to give. He does not want them to perceive the donation as a simple religious duty that must be fulfilled insofar as one is a member of one church or another. In that case it would already be a kind of compulsion, to which a person, of course, agrees because he considers such agreement his duty, but such a donation would be deprived of spiritual meaning (vv. 1-5). The apostle especially emphasizes that from a spiritual point of view, from the point of view of those relationships that unite a person with God and with his neighbors, only truly voluntary donations have meaning: those a person makes with joy and complete willingness (vv. 6-8).

Of course, a donation made from a sense of religious duty is not useless either. But for it to become truly useful spiritually, it must become part of the Kingdom, and that is possible only if the donation is accompanied by the proper attitude toward the one for whom it is intended. Meanwhile, the relationships of the inhabitants of the Kingdom cannot be based only on duty; their true foundation can only be love, trust, and gratitude. In the Kingdom no one owes anyone anything, but each person, out of love, is ready to share everything he has with his neighbor and to thank his neighbor for the readiness to share with him. It is no accident that Paul pays special attention to the gratitude that connects those receiving donations both with God and with those who give (vv. 12-15). He understands that precisely in it are embodied the relationships that unite the inhabitants of the Kingdom with one another. They are united not by mutual obligations, but by mutual love.

The Lord mysteriously tells us, His disciples: "The light is with you for a little while longer." Yes, of course, this refers to His imminent death on the cross, for the Word, like a grain of God's sowing, must die in order to bear fruit. And He died - of this, unlike His resurrection, no one doubts - and the light He brought into the world went out forever for the world.

But not for those who believed Him! He promised that those who believe in Him would be sons of light, bearers of this light revealed to the apostles in the Resurrection. And this is both a promise and a task: not to remain in darkness despite His death, obvious to all; to "walk in the light," that is, to live in His presence, believing that He is alive. Then His death, through us - and this is astonishing - will bear much fruit for the world and open access for all to the Kingdom of Light...

Jesus’ words that the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified were spoken in response to the news brought by the disciples that the Greeks wished to see Him. The Evangelist mentions neither who these Greeks were nor whether the meeting took place; apparently, it did not. Most likely, this is one of the instances in which Christ does not give the answer expected of Him, but says what His listeners actually need to hear. It is possible that even at this moment the disciples do not fully understand that the Teacher must pass through suffering, and to them the Greeks’ interest is evidence of new opportunities for preaching. They think in quantitative terms, but Christ is preparing for the self-sacrifice that will change everything qualitatively. For the salvation of divided humanity, including the Greeks, He goes to His death, after which the disciples’ preaching will be able to succeed.

One might object to the words, “Now the ruler of this world will be cast out,” by saying that evil still reigns in the world today. But the forces of evil no longer possess the authority they had before Golgotha. The agony may be long and violent, but the enemy has already received the mortal blow.

There are turning points in human history that may remain outwardly unnoticed, yet still be the true cause of major historical events. When “some Greeks” ask the apostle Philip to arrange a meeting with Jesus, just such a turning point arrives, and the Lord says of it: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

The fact is that the entire history of the Old Testament religion unfolded amid a glaring contradiction between the universal character of the divine revelation given in it and the narrowly national character of the religion itself. To be a participant in the Covenant with God and to be a Jew by blood were regarded as one and the same thing. The prophets repeatedly proclaimed that the day would come when the Lord would call all nations to Himself, but this time was associated with the future coming of the Messiah. And now that day had arrived.

It is in this universal context that Christ’s words, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to Myself,” should be understood. This is why the Greeks’ desire to meet Christ becomes such a turning point in history.

When the Greeks come to Jesus, they ask Philip for help. For some reason he goes to Andrew. It is hard to think the apostle was afraid to approach the Teacher himself. It is just as unlikely that Andrew was Christ's personal secretary, in charge of the Teacher's schedule. The matter is something quite different.

Something unusual is happening. For the first time, other peoples responding to Jesus' preaching are mentioned, even if they believe in the same God as the Jews. The community of Christ's disciples is encountering something new. And therefore Philip behaves very naturally: he does not hurry to act on his own. Jesus sent the apostles out to preach not one by one, but two by two (see Mark 6:7).

Who knows: perhaps Philip went to Andrew precisely because he was "paired" with him? Besides, Philip surely remembers how Christ said, "Where two or three are gathered in My name, there I am among them" (Matt 18:20).

The Lord lays the foundation of the Church in this way: not scattered believers, but disciples coming to Him together. When we do not understand what to do, when we want to know God's will, we should not rely exclusively on how we ourselves hear it. God has given us His Church to help us: He has given us elders, He has given us brothers and sisters with whom we can turn to Him together. And so His word is fulfilled: "If two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven" (Matt 18:19).

When it comes to the Savior's earthly ministry, we understand that something unique is at issue: indeed, He alone was destined to be born and to live His earthly life as the Messiah; this was given to no one else. And yet His life became a kind of spiritual model suitable for every one of His followers. Moreover, there is simply no other model that allows one to enter the Kingdom, and apparently there cannot be, at least in our world that has undergone the fall.

This model is very simple in theory and not so simple in practice: a person must agree to part with his own life in order then to receive it again, but now as another life, in a new quality suitable for the Kingdom. The one who loves his life ("soul") as it is, in its present condition, cannot count on the Kingdom. The demand appears excessively harsh, but as we can see, this harshness is caused precisely by the specific nature of the fallen world, of which the life of each of us is a part. Even Jesus Himself, over whom original sin has no power, was not, during His earthly ministry, completely free from this specific nature: He, being fully and to the end an inhabitant of our untransformed world and part of it, became subject, if not to sin, then to death - though, of course, not in the same way as we are: death was possible for Him, not inevitable as it is for us.

And the only thing that can help us is readiness to renounce our life in its present quality, what Jesus calls "hating one's own life." It is worth remembering that in biblical language love and hatred denote not the emotional states we often mean by them, but an attitude of acceptance or nonacceptance toward that to which our will is directed. Nonacceptance of life, including first of all one's own life, in its present quality and state, and readiness to part with it for the sake of another, new life, constitute the necessary preliminary condition for beginning the path into the Kingdom: the path during which our former life will be remelted into a new one, fit for eternity.