NOTES for Mar 1:21-28

The evangelist notes an interesting fact: it is Jesus' victory over the “unclean spirit” that makes the strongest impression on the people. In principle, of course, there is nothing surprising here: the Kingdom is indeed fatal to the dark powers, and the breath of God that permeates it proves to be a force that kills the spirits of darkness, so it is entirely natural that it should torment them.

Yet the power of the Kingdom manifested itself in other ways in Jesus' presence, but such manifestations evidently made far less of an impression on people's minds. Why was this so? Probably because fallen man associates strength and power (after the power of earthly rulers, of course, which is always in plain view and manifests itself all too clearly) precisely with the actions of dark forces. There is nothing surprising in this either: fallen man lives in a world that is under the dominion of these very forces and always senses this deep down, even when considering himself a materialist and an atheist. And he always watches with apprehension (quite appropriate in this case) and curiosity (wholly inappropriate and superfluous, by contrast) the manifestations in surrounding life of the power that represents his true master, in whose hands all earthly rulers are merely toys and pawns in a great game.

But, of course, the greatest commotion among people is caused by the appearance of the One who, as is obvious to everyone, can not only challenge the dark ruler but also put his subjects to flight. For every fallen person (sometimes without realising it) understands perfectly well that this cannot happen. And if something like it has nevertheless occurred, it can mean only one thing: something truly radical has changed in the world. Such testimony may prove more impressive than many words about the Kingdom drawing near.

Of course, in itself it still does not guarantee that everyone impressed by Jesus' victory over the powers of darkness will follow Him. But there can be no guarantees here at all. And for someone, perhaps, it is precisely such a visible victory of the Messiah over the “unclean spirit” that will become the event that leads them to reflect on the Kingdom and on their own salvation.

What is this "unclean spirit"? This question often gives us no peace. Often the question of fighting the unclean spirit becomes the central point of spiritual books and of spiritual life as a whole. For many people today, when the traditions of ritual purity regulated by the book of Leviticus have receded into the distant past - and that is the book with the highest concentration of the word "unclean" in the whole Bible - the fear of being defiled has not disappeared at all; it has simply shifted from certain concrete things to an unclean spirit understood in some particular way.

And this is a very dangerous path. Because the center of our life should be not the struggle against the unclean spirit, but Christ. This may be the most important seed of meaning that today's reading gives us. The mere appearance of Christ in our life is enough for the unclean spirit to "cry out with a loud voice and come out" of us. We only need truly to let Christ into our life, and this is possible only through reading and prayerful meditation on the Word of God.

But how often one sees a person who, instead, plunges into reading penitential canons and prayers from a very particular Byzantine monastic tradition, for which we are, of course, endlessly grateful because of its amazing example of communion with God, but which cannot be copied mechanically for our own communion with God, because our life is completely different, and simply because communion is a living, dynamic process that accepts no ready-made patterns or formulas.

But when one sees such a person, it becomes very sad. His life has truly turned into a struggle, and even, it would seem, a struggle against evil; but what is the fruit of this struggle, and who is made better by it? Yet all that is needed is to let Christ into one's heart, to make Him the center of one's life, and the problem will resolve itself.

Yes, but evil exists; we must not close our eyes to it. We should not close them, but let us look straight at Christ, and at everything else with peripheral vision.

In describing the events of the Savior's earthly ministry, Mark is very restrained and sparing with details. The preaching in Capernaum, the healing of a possessed man, and the healing of Peter's mother-in-law follow one after another; the scenes change as in a kaleidoscope. This flickering of events is a feature of the author's perception. It happens, and if not everyone, then many people know this experience. As a rule something similar occurs when a person inwardly distances himself from what is happening.

For example, he goes through some event that is very important for him, and its result is a special inner state that takes in the whole person and creates around him a kind of shell through which he interacts with the surrounding world. The shell may be absolutely transparent, but it almost always becomes a kind of lens that changes the person's perception of what is happening outside. Such a shell is in itself a psychological structure, but its origin can be very different, from purely physiological to spiritual. Any contact with spiritual reality changes a person's perception, at least for the duration of the contact, and sometimes for a much longer time.

Most often the change has to do with the scale and speed of events in the outer world: they seem to move farther away, the flow of time that contains them speeds up, and that very kaleidoscope effect appears. At the same time, if the psychological shell that produces this effect has a spiritual origin, if it is connected with spiritual processes in which the person is caught up, it also functions as a kind of filter, singling out in the swiftly running stream the events that are related to the spiritual process that produced the shell.

In this way, from the stream of events those are singled out that are connected with a person's spiritual state; he begins to see more clearly what corresponds to his state. A person who has experienced a revelation of the Kingdom can in this way see the stream of events both in the present and in the past, insofar as the past has been preserved in his memory. This is how the evangelist sees events: for him, after all, the meeting with Christ became a revelation of the Kingdom, and he experiences the Kingdom as the reality that changes his perception of present events and of past ones, as far as he remembers them.

Today's Gospel reading is devoted to Jesus' confrontation with evil: possession and sickness. The world was created by God in wisdom and perfection; there was no place in it for death and disease. The Book of Revelation says that at the end of time death and disease will be conquered. Today's passage tells of the beginning of this battle. We see that Jesus does not remain indifferent to the fate of suffering people, but conquers sickness and frees a person from the power of dark forces.

The Kingdom of God and evil are incompatible. This excludes every defense of death and sickness as some kind of good that God brings upon people for their correction. God permits the existence of evil as a consequence of the sinfulness common to humanity, but He does not create evil; He conquers it. We too must take part in this victory if we want to be co-workers with Christ. The sickness and bondage of people are a task for us as well. We must "overcome evil with good": relieve the sufferings of our neighbors, free ourselves from the power of sin, and free the world from it.

Today we read in the Gospel of Mark about the calling of the disciples and their response to that calling. This is far from being about an ability for spontaneous actions: apparently, these four already knew Jesus. That is how John 1:35-51 can be understood. After all, we ourselves are not reading these lines for the first time. What is surprising here is something else: how briefly the evangelist speaks about it. Indeed, calling and conversion are only the very beginning of the way. The words and deeds of Jesus, the disciples' wavering and denial, and the joy of the Resurrection will be described in much greater detail. On the other hand, without this episode there would have been no whole Gospel. What would have happened if no one had followed Jesus?

In our time Christ's action in this world continues. And the disciples without whom nothing would have happened are, this time, us. Therefore today it is so important for us to realize once again that the Lord has called us to follow Him and to find in ourselves the courage to climb out of the boat and follow after Him.

What is a calling? How can we find our calling and understand what God wants from us? So much has been said and written on this subject over two thousand years of Christian history that one might think no questions should remain, yet they do not grow any fewer. The apostles, however, or one might say the future apostles, faced no problem of choice and had neither doubts nor hesitation. Curiously, Jesus says nothing special to them, does not teach them anything or deliver long sermons; He simply invites each of them to follow Him. And they go, as though they had always been waiting for this encounter. Of course, they had most likely heard something about Jesus before and may even have heard Jesus Himself. But hearing is one thing, and leaving everything to follow Him is quite another. It is clear that a true calling is always revealed to a person with complete certainty.

One might, of course, say that this was a unique situation, for the Saviour Himself stood before them, and if the future apostles understood Who stood before them and where He was calling them, there was nothing surprising in their resolve. And yet the evangelists give examples of far less resolve among some of those whom Jesus called to follow Him in exactly the same way. On the other hand, can there be any discussion of a Christian's calling without that personal encounter with the Risen One, without which not only any calling, but Christianity itself is impossible? Apparently, the question of calling is resolved quite simply: a calling is that without which it is impossible to live, because life loses its meaning. And if a person still has questions, doubts or hesitation about whether a particular activity is his calling, then the answer is most likely negative. If the answer were positive, the person called to serve, whatever that service might be, could and would have no doubts or hesitation.

Of course, what is meant here is specifically doubts and hesitation concerning the content of the service itself, not the difficulties that may accompany it. Sometimes the cunning human mind, in its desire to spare its owner the difficulties and problems inherent in the service to which God is calling him, supplies doubts about whether the call is genuine and whether the decision already made or being made is right. But that is another matter, a question of spiritual honesty, without which no one can find his calling.