NOTES for Mat 5:1-16

We are beginning to read the Sermon on the Mount of Jesus Christ. Christians have always considered this text one of the most important for a person's formation in faith; it is said that in the early Church it even served as a basis for catechesis, the preparation of a person for baptism. We will see further on that the moral demands of the Sermon on the Mount are so high that they expose every one of us. And it would be very easy to fall into despondency, but throughout all the following days let us remember what we read today. Christ begins with a promise and encouragement, promising blessedness on the path of following Him, that is, some highest degree of happiness. And all this is because this is the very path where He Himself goes before us and does not leave us.

The Sermon on the Mount is truly the preaching of the Kingdom. The "beatitudes" themselves, as the blessings pronounced by Jesus at the very beginning of the sermon are usually called (vv. 3-11), testify that Jesus connects His coming with the manifestation in the world of the fullness of the Kingdom. It is not by chance that He speaks of the blessedness of the "poor in spirit" (v. 3). Here the reference is plainly to those whom the prophetic books of the Old Testament and the Psalter simply call "the poor," although even there the issue is clearly not material poverty.

Poverty in the Gospel sense was first spoken of in the history of God's people by the prophet Isaiah of Jerusalem, who connected the triumph of the poor with the coming of the messianic age (Isa. 29:19). Later, "the poor" came to designate the members of the community of Isaiah's disciples, which then gave rise to a whole movement that remained connected with the prophetic milieu even later. Isaiah considered himself "poor" as well, although he belonged to one of the finest aristocratic families of Jerusalem.

By "poverty" he and his followers understood a spiritual state in which a person relies on no one and nothing in the world except God. With such complete surrender of oneself to the will of God, a person, even if rich and influential, still remained before God a poor person possessing nothing. And in a world that, in the Gospel's words, "lies in evil," such a person most often could not count not only on a kingdom, but even on a quiet life.

And now, according to Jesus' testimony, the day of which Isaiah spoke has finally come: the day of the triumph of the "poor," to whom the Kingdom is given. The reference, of course, is not to an earthly kingdom, but to that messianic Kingdom whose coming Isaiah foresaw and Jesus testified to. Sometimes in the Psalter such people were called "meek" or "humble," and if before they could not even think of inheriting the earth, now, in the world being transformed, such a possibility appears for them (v. 5).

And yet the Kingdom has not yet triumphed to the end and in its fullness. It is not by chance that Jesus speaks of the blessedness of those "expelled for truth" (v. 10; it would be more exact to translate this phrase as "blessed are those persecuted for righteousness") and of the blessedness of those persecuted for His sake and for faithfulness to the Kingdom (v. 11). The Kingdom "has drawn near" (Matt. 4:17), it is already entering the world and transforming it, but it has not yet opened in all its fullness, and the forces of evil resist this opening, falling upon those who live by the Kingdom and bear witness to it. Such is our age, the age of the coming Kingdom.

The Beatitudes are a hymn to happiness, to the paradoxical Christian happiness of those who mourn and are persecuted, the meek and the poor. For Christ does not say, "Blessed are the well-fed and honored," although even they, difficult as it is, can still enter the Kingdom of Heaven (see Matt 19:23). On the contrary, through all these commandments the Lord shows that true life is found in simplicity. And these are not merely wishes, but commandments that must be fulfilled.

A very logical question arises: how is this possible? About some commandments we can still say that at times we correspond to them, for example those about mourning, but with others we have serious trouble. Who can honestly say that he is meek, pure in heart, and poor in spirit? No one, in essence. It is simply beyond our strength: our faith does not reach the level set in these verses.

And yet the Lord knows what He is doing when He sets such a standard before us. The mechanism of our relationship with Him is also paradoxical: hardly any teacher would pass a student who tries a little, has learned a little, and has understood something, but cannot answer all the exam questions. But the Teacher Himself promises to deal with us in exactly this way: to lead us "from faith to faith" (Rom 1:17) - from the small grain we already have to the fullness that only He can give.

The Beatitudes are a completely unique text, one of the most important in the whole New Testament. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke transmit these words of Christ differently, which allows us to conclude that the Lord spoke about this more than once and that the ancient Church preserved several accounts of these words that do not fully coincide. This means that we are dealing with something truly important. Interpreters of the Gospel usually say that the Beatitudes designate the path of spiritual growth given to every person, or outline the places where we find Christ. But before all this, it is important for us to hear what Christ is speaking about. What is blessedness? The word has the meanings of both happiness and abundance, fullness. That is, from the very beginning of His ministry Christ speaks to people about what happiness is: the highest, overflowing happiness, happiness given in a measure pressed down and running over.

Instinctively, by some inherited stereotype, we expect something else from God. Denunciations of sins and cleansing from them, deliverance from pain, sorrow, and death, moral guidance. But the Lord first of all speaks of overflowing happiness, and this even embarrasses us a little. We ourselves are ashamed to think that we need this, so as not to appear somehow too primitive. Therefore it is important for us to understand that Christ calls us to fullness of life, to fullness of happiness. The path He points out to us is the path of the Cross. In order to live a full life, Christ says, we must receive as a gift the suffering that is inevitable in a fallen, distorted world. The happiness He offers us is not a wonderful and frightening elixir of forgetfulness. On the contrary, it is the victory accomplished in His Crucifixion and Resurrection. And for that reason the fullness of life to which we are called is all the fuller and more real.

The most important sermon of Christ preserved by Matthew begins with the Beatitudes. And from the very beginning Jesus confronts His listeners with paradoxical formulations that are not easy for them to grasp. Throughout all the following centuries, puzzled questions about the Beatitudes have been raised more than once.

Meanwhile, the very construction of these commandments contains answers to the difficult questions that arise about them. Thus, if those who mourn are blessed because they will be comforted, then the poor in spirit are blessed precisely because in the Kingdom of Heaven their poverty will be filled. The meek, pushed to the margins in the present cruel world, will inherit the earth, which means they will not be crushed by the strong and insolent.

It is clear that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied near the One who is Himself the bearer of the highest righteousness. But the fact that the merciful will receive mercy means not only that they will receive a reward for their works of mercy; it is also a statement that in our earthly world they are too often repaid with evil for good.

The pure in heart are to see God. Yet from the Old Testament we know that a person cannot see God and remain alive. What power there must be in purity of heart, if even the impossible becomes accessible to those endowed with it.

The last two categories mentioned in the Beatitudes, the peacemakers and those persecuted for righteousness, to whom the highest rewards are promised, can be considered separately. Still, one wants to unite them, not only following the parallelism characteristic of biblical poetry, but also because all the faithful are called to possess these qualities, like all the others listed among the Beatitudes. It is no accident that the promises both begin and end in the same way: with the promise of the Kingdom of Heaven.

In one of the Beatitudes there is a word that often raises questions and is misunderstood. This word is "meekness," or more precisely, the adjective formed from it (see Matt. 5:5).

What qualities does a meek person have? How often the image that comes to mind is of some creature huddled in a corner, unable or afraid to open its mouth or show itself in any way... A dictionary gives us this definition of a meek person: submissive, gentle, humble. But the definition "submissive" needs an added clarification: submissive to whom?

But the most important thing Jesus wanted to say, it seems, we can understand when we remember that He Himself is "meek and lowly in heart" (Matt. 11:29). And He calls us to learn this meekness and humility from Him.

To whom, then, and to what is Jesus Christ submissive? We can say only one thing with certainty: He is submissive to the will of the Father. Truly, every person needs an awareness that a "higher principle" exists, and not merely awareness, but living relationship with God. It is precisely under the loving, encouraging, approving gaze of the Father that we can take our first steps and grow spiritually. Even our Lord, having become incarnate, needed a father's support.

Jesus calls His disciples salt and light. These apparently incompatible things are the main thing by which they must differ from all other people. Salt by itself has no nutritional value, but it is precisely salt that gives flavor to a dish and makes it special. Living in the world, Christians fill it with a divine savor, which, however, does not belong to them, since the Lord has endowed them with it. But it is important not to lose the special gift received in baptism while living by the laws of this world, not to be absorbed into it, because to lose one's "saltiness" means to stop being a follower of Christ. Jesus also says of Himself that He is the "Light of the world." In this lies the amazing privilege of Christians: to be like their Teacher.

Like much of what the Gospel calls us to, this comparison of the disciples with light and salt is paradoxical. On the one hand, one must be insignificant salt, which does not exist for itself, and on the other hand, one must be like God.

The path of blessedness and the path of emptiness lie before a person. There are many uncertainties in our life, but in our relationship with God our choice becomes sharply divided, like "yes" and "no." The Son of God, having become the Son of Man, did not waver between these two paths, but was always "yes" and "amen." He calls us to the same thing: having chosen His path, we become light to the world, channels of the love and truth of the heavenly Father. And we must justify His trust, because if a lamp is covered with a vessel, the house becomes completely dark.

Have you ever tasted distilled water? A few days on such water can be fatal for a person: life is impossible without salts. Salt not only enhances the flavor of food but also protects it from decay. Without God the world would be insipid and empty. Today the Savior tells us that we are the salt of the earth, which means that He is present in the world through us. But what if we do not allow Him to be? What can be used to salt salt? Without Him, not only our lives but the whole world loses its meaning.

In Church Slavonic, in the Synodal translation, in Bishop Cassian's translation, and in other Russian translations, there are two different expressions: light of the world and light to the world. This difference is absent from the Greek, from the Vulgate, and from translations into modern European languages. Yet this point is very important for you and me if we are to understand today's Gospel reading correctly. We see here two entirely different spiritual traditions. Everyone is free to choose either of them, as long as that choice is conscious.

Still, this does not prevent us from turning to the general meaning of what was said. The main word that comes to mind when trying to understand it is probably: witness. "We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard" (Acts 4:20). We can only bear witness; nothing else is given to us. Bear witness by word and deed. This is exactly why Seraphim of Sarov said: save yourself, and thousands around you will be saved. And how often we want someone to lead us by the hand to salvation. How we want our spiritual father to take responsibility for our actions. But no. We can only be witnesses to one another.

And one more thing comes to mind when reflecting on today's text. Remember where else this expression "light of the world" occurs. "The disciples said to Him, Rabbi, lately the Jews sought to stone You, and are You going there again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world" (John 11:8,9). A strange answer. As if to a different question, yet it seems to us that it gives a great deal for understanding what this is: the light of the world.

The first property of salt that comes to mind, the salt with which Christ compared His disciples, is its ability to keep any substance from decay, the companion of death. We also know that only a very small amount of salt is needed to change the taste of a large portion of food, which means that even while remaining a minority, Christians can have a positive effect on the whole world. But the point is not only in these qualities of salt, which have not changed over the centuries: the listeners to the Sermon on the Mount knew and observed ancient customs connected with salt. Salt was a symbol of faithfulness; sharing salt together sealed an alliance more firmly than an oath and was a sign of unbreakable friendship. This means that Christ's disciples too are called to be such bearers of truth and reconciliation in a world torn apart by hostility.

He also called the disciples the light of the world, and this is striking, because another time He called Himself that (John 8:12, 9:5). Here is one of the first indications of the height to which He wants to raise those who trusted Him and followed Him. Yes, He came not to trample us into the dirt by His greatness, but to pull us out of the dirt and cleanse us.

And naturally, though for many people still unexpectedly, He begins to emphasize how His actions correspond to the law. Today many find it hard to connect what Christ brought into the world with the provisions of Old Testament law. But what seemed to some people to be a novelty was revealing precisely what had been laid down from ancient times.

Speaking about the need to surpass the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus reveals that the motivation of actions, and the condition of soul that dictates them, are no less important than the actions themselves. If hatred leads to murder, then hatred is already the beginning of murder. And however important it is to cut down a poisonous tree that has grown large, it is even more important to keep it from taking root.

The Sermon on the Mount is one of the most important Gospel texts, laying the foundations of Christian morality. Yet the beginning of this sermon, though traditionally called the "Beatitudes," speaks not about rules but about happiness: the happiness of a righteous life, the life Jesus calls the Kingdom of Heaven. In such a life, consolation, mercy, and joy overcome tears and pain, and grace and peace reign.

The blessings pronounced by Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount are commonly called the Beatitudes in Christian tradition, and are compared with the commandments of the Decalogue. Yet Jesus Himself did not treat them as new commandments replacing the old ones. In fact, in form they do not resemble commandments at all, but rather the series of blessings and curses with which Deuteronomy ends, or the blessings by which the Torah instructs priests to bless the people. But these blessings, of course, acquire a special meaning: they make sense only if the Messiah has already come and the messianic Kingdom is near and about to arrive.

The mention of the poor and the humble in such a context is especially significant. Historically, this refers to members of a movement that had formed even before the exile around Isaiah of Jerusalem. They came to be called 'the poor,' although in the literal sense they usually were not beggars. Sometimes they were also called 'meek' or 'humble,' with the same meaning: these are people who completely refuse to rely in life on anyone or anything except God, and who await the coming of the messianic Kingdom, where they will receive reward and consolation for the difficult path of righteousness they tried to follow. Speaking of the blessedness of the poor and the meek, Jesus thereby makes it clear that the messianic Kingdom has already come or is about to come.

Just as natural is the mention of those who thirst for righteousness: for the image of 'the poor one' was inseparable from the image of the righteous person, and already in pre-exilic hymnography these words had become virtual synonyms. At the same time, before the exile, purity of heart and mercy began to be perceived as integral traits of the righteous person. In addition, already in the pre-exilic period the image of the righteous person becomes the image of one persecuted by the authorities or the powerful of this world. Jesus proclaims the blessedness of those persecuted for righteousness, that is, following the tradition already existing at that time, for faithfulness to the Torah. And He adds: blessed are those persecuted for My sake, thereby in fact pointing to Himself as the Messiah; for the image of the suffering Messiah was known to tradition after all, although in those days it had somewhat receded into the background, and those persecuted for the Messiah and the messianic Kingdom were, of course, also understood as persecuted for righteousness.

Thus Jesus, proclaiming the nearness of the coming Kingdom, at the same time answers the hopes of those who were awaiting the Messiah and His Kingdom. He lets them understand that the long-awaited day has come - although not in the way they had imagined.