NOTES for Co2 4:1-18

Paul decisively rejects any special "secret" knowledge, any "hidden" tradition. More than that, he does not even claim any special Christian interpretation, nor does he present himself as the founder of some special new school of Christian exegesis. It should be noted that in Gospel times, both in Judea and in the Jewish world generally, there were many schools and academies devoted to the study of the Torah and the tradition connected with it, and some of these schools claimed, if not esoteric status, then at least a kind of intellectual elitism.

Their representatives were convinced that, even if they did not possess some special secret knowledge, they certainly had a unique method of interpreting the sacred texts that allowed them to understand them as no one else could. Paul, by contrast, claims nothing of the kind.

He remains faithful to the best traditions of rabbinic service: no elitism, and certainly no esotericism. Knowledge of the Torah must be open to everyone who wants to know it and follow it. But for the apostle, knowledge of the Torah and following it are inseparable from his personal relationship with Christ, from his Christianity. And he immediately makes a reservation: this is not about some new rabbinic school or some new interpretations of familiar texts "for the chosen." What Paul teaches is accessible and understandable to everyone, and if it is unclear to anyone, it is only to the one who does not want to see, hear, and understand.

For Paul, the Torah is the path to Christ, the path after Christ, and the path in Christ, and he does not hide this. But there is nothing "esoteric" or elitist here. The apostle calls everyone to walk this path, and does so completely openly. Apart from Christ and the understanding of the Torah as the path in Christ, he has nothing. He is not a learned rabbi, not the founder of a new school, not a teacher of righteousness. He is a witness of Christ, and that is enough for him.

Paul's words about the ministry of a witness recall the Savior's instructions to the apostles whom He sends to serve, when He tells them to be "wise as serpents and innocent as doves." By "innocence," Jesus apparently meant the spiritual wholeness that the apostle considers a necessary quality of a witness. It is obvious to Paul that no witness can bear witness to the Kingdom if his soul is burdened by some hidden sin or uncleanness (vv. 1-2). And the issue here, of course, is not only that such witness would be outright hypocrisy. The apostle does not speak by chance about the witness's openness to those to whom he testifies. Witness presupposes not merely words, but above all the experience of the Kingdom, which must become accessible to those who listen. And the witness's unrepented sin can easily get in the way.

Of course, an unbiased person may well forgive a witness for his sinfulness, since, objectively speaking, there are no sinless people, and simple justice does not allow us to demand sinlessness from a witness who carries out his ministry conscientiously and with all his soul. But objectively, the witness's task in such a case may remain unfulfilled: he will not be able to show those to whom he testifies the most important thing, the Kingdom that the Savior brought into the world. And therefore more is required of a witness in a certain sense than of an ordinary person: the fullness of righteousness is required of him.

Of course, this does not mean that the witness can reach such a spiritual height on his own. Yet witness, according to Paul, is full only when it takes place in the presence of God, and for God, of course, it is entirely possible to correct what a person is unable to change. But the witness himself must be completely transparent to the action of God for this to happen, not only when he is testifying, but at every other time as well. Only then will the witness truly testify not about himself, not about his religiosity or his spiritual experience, but about Christ and His Kingdom (vv. 5-6). And then he will not have to resort to the means people usually use to convince others that they are right, for he is only a witness of the Kingdom, and it is not for him to decide who will enter it and who will not (vv. 3-4). This is true wisdom, which does not impose itself and does not force anyone to follow its appeals and advice. Only such preaching can bear witness to Christ and to the Kingdom, and not to the witness himself.

These words of the apostle Paul, continuing what is said about the Light of Christ in the Gospels, reveal to us the essence and meaning of the New Covenant. That is why it is so New, so unexpected and amazing for people.

The New Covenant is not a secret teaching into which only the chosen are allowed to enter. Nor is it a closed clan that rejects outsiders. The New Covenant is not a list of requirements that establishes a scale of good and evil based on the depth of human fallenness. The New Covenant is not an ideology that shapes the soul and mind of its adherents. It is not even a way of life that offers the receiving of some fruits in exchange for giving up others.

It is light that flashed like lightning from one edge of the sky to the other. Light in which everything is visible: truth and falsehood, good and evil, life and death. Light shining in the face of Jesus Christ. It is not that life in darkness was worse: dark, frightening, and cold. Experience shows that outside this light, life is simply impossible.

All Christian history is in many respects, if not chiefly, the history of preaching. But one must admit that this preaching was far from successful in every age. Why is this so? Many have tried to answer this question, and the answers often contained a fairly deep theological analysis of the issue, which, however, did not always lead the authors of such studies to an unambiguous answer. Meanwhile, finding the answer would not be difficult at all if we only thought seriously about whom and what we preach, about what and about Whom we witness. What did Jesus Himself preach during His earthly ministry? A new religion? A new morality? A new theology? No. He preached only one thing: the Kingdom, which, in His own words, "has drawn near." And on earth He left not a community of preachers of a new religion, a new morality, or a new theology, but a community of people who, abiding with Him in constant communion, would become residents of that Kingdom whose nearness He testified to, in order to carry this Kingdom further into the world. Christians are witnesses of the Kingdom in which they live and of the One who brought the Kingdom into the world. Of course, Christians can testify to other things too. They can quite well tell the world, for example, about their discoveries in the field of theology, or about their reflections concerning morality, or about their political ideas inspired by reading the Torah or the Gospel. They can also tell the world about that new religiosity which has grown on Christian soil over the last two millennia. But in speaking about all this, it is important to realize that such witness is not properly Christian witness, not because it contradicts the Gospel, since a Christian cannot and must not allow such a contradiction by definition, but because it has no direct relation either to Christ or to that Kingdom whose nearness He spoke of. And today most people do not need new ideas and concepts. They need the living risen Christ. And the Kingdom that He brought into the world.

These words of apostle Paul, continuing on what is said about the Light of Christ in the Gospel, open to us the substance and the sense of the New Testament. That’s obviously why it is so New, so unexpected and so wonderful for men.

It is light, shining as lightning, from one end of the sky to another. Light, in which everything is visible: truth and lie, good and evil, life and death. The light which has shines in the face of Jesus Christ. How it is worse to live in gloom – darkness, dreadful and cold. Practice shows that beyond this light, life is just impossible.

Continuing the discussion of the ministry of a witness, Paul especially emphasizes the need to move the listeners' focus away from the witness's personality and toward God and Christ, so that no one would attribute the power of God and the breath of the Kingdom to the witness himself as a human being (v. 7). It is from this point of view that the apostle considers the persecutions and afflictions that often fell both on him and on his companions (vv. 8-9). Of course, the witness of a true witness would not become false or less significant even if he were surrounded by honor and respect. But in that case there would always be a danger that the minds and hearts of the listeners were being influenced not so much by the witness itself as by additional factors: the force of the witness's personality, the general respect shown to him, and the pressure of public opinion.

Of course, this influence is not dangerous in itself, at least as long as it directs a person in the right direction. But under such conditions a certain kind of self-deception is always possible, when a person considers himself, at times quite sincerely, a Christian not because he seeks the Kingdom and is ready to follow Christ, but because he has fallen under the spell of a famous, respected, and perhaps truly outstanding spiritual leader. It is always psychologically harder to follow a persecuted or at least unpopular preacher, but in that case the chances are noticeably higher that the follower shares the values and convictions of his leader, rather than merely yielding to his charm, though of course there are exceptions.

But another point is important as well: witness to the Kingdom there and then, where and when there appears to be no hope not only for the triumph of the ideas the preacher defends, but even simply for a favorable outcome (vv. 10-12). In such a situation the reality of the Kingdom is either experienced with utmost clarity or, if it remains only an abstraction for the listeners, is not experienced at all. It is no accident that Paul says the death overtaking the apostle and his companions turns into the fullness of the life of Christ and the Kingdom for those to whom they testify, including the Christians of Corinth (v. 12). Nothing is so convincing as the triumph of the Kingdom revealed in the life of a persecuted witness (vv. 13-15). That is what keeps Paul from losing heart: he truly experiences this triumph during persecutions, seeing the Kingdom expand and include ever new inhabitants (vv. 16-18).

The Epistle to the Corinthians speaks not only of the danger of the Christian path but also of suffering and death, without any obvious reward. For the only motive proves to be the desire “that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh,” while “the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.” How far this is from our usual ideas about a person's calling, about fulfillment in this life, and, finally, about glory!

For Paul, Christian ministry and the Christian path are inseparable from the idea of poverty understood in a Christian sense. The idea of poverty was already connected with the path of righteousness in the preaching of Isaiah of Jerusalem, eight centuries before Christ came. By the time of the Gospel, this connection was already seen as traditional: poverty and righteousness were synonyms.

Naturally, poverty was understood here not as a material condition, but as a spiritual state. Even a person who was materially quite well off could feel poor before God. The issue was not wealth or poverty, but the degree to which a person was ready to rely on God or on his own wealth.

A poor person in the spiritual sense became such when he realized that his life was bound up with God's presence, that the path of righteousness is unthinkable apart from His presence, and that the person himself cannot help himself in this regard by anything of his own. Everything a person has brings him no closer to God, and what does bring him closer is not in his possession; he can only receive what is needed from God, if God wills to give it to him. But what is received from God must be kept, and here much depends on the person himself.

This is exactly how the path of righteousness was understood in some rabbinic schools of Gospel times, as well as in earlier eras. And the Savior's words about the blessedness specifically of the poor confirm the truth of this understanding of righteousness. The Kingdom can be found only in this way, only by this path. It cannot be either earned or obtained by one's own strength, but it can be received and kept. Or lost, if one is spiritually careless.

That is why the apostle speaks of "earthen vessels," which have no value in themselves: only the contents are valuable, not the vessel itself. And poverty carried through to the end is death to the world in Christ. A person has died to this world; in this world he is nothing. But the life of the Kingdom is revealed in him more fully the less he is "alive" from the point of view of the untransformed world. And the more such people there are in the Church, the more fully she reveals herself to the world as the body of Christ - what she is meant to be according to the design of her Founder.

The words of the apostle about the conditions, in which he comes to live and to witness to himself and his coreligionists, may seem the declaration of a heroic resistance, the words of the heroes resisting the whole world and ready to fight till the victorious end. Probably, such would have been the case if it was not one "but". Paul understands perfectly that they cannot overcome here, in the world being transformed, but not yet transformed, and thus being still in evil. Of course, it does not diminish the heroism: the heroic perdition is a known thing, history. But the apostle, as seen, sees the meaning not even in the possible or impossible victory, but in the fact that, in spite of all the efforts of this evil, in which lies the world, they didn’t all the same disappear from this world, they are still here and continue their work, their witness.

Such logic from the point of view of the laws of the not transformed world seems a little bit strange and, at least, without perspectives: because the witnesses can’t all the same change radically the situation to their profit, and if it is so, which sense then in all their efforts? But from the point of view of the Kingdom everything falls into place: because from this point of view it is completely obvious that until the definitive triumph of the Kingdom and before the complete transformation of the world, it will be really impossible to change radically the state of things in it.

But the Kingdom has to exist in the world, exist as the Church, as a community of righteous men living the life of the Kingdom and witnessing of this Kingdom. They will not be able to transform the world not transformed into an earthly paradise, but they are able to manifest an alternative to the existing order of things and give the possibility to join the life of the Kingdom to those who seek for it. And in this consists the main task of the Church, as understands it Jesus Himself, and all the apostles, including of course Paul. So he speaks about his sufferings and those of his concelebrants not to boast in front of anybody or frighten anybody.

He wants simply, it seems, to dispel the illusion which begins already to spread among a certain part of Christians, that the Church can one day and one way or another become the natural and organic part of this world, find in it its place and even transform it, transforming if not into paradise, then at least in something more worthy, than it was from the moment of the fall. And the apostle does not get tired to remind to all that these hopes are illusive. And the ghosts are not harmless, because they distract those who are passionate in them from the most important – the Kingdom.

Paul spoke several times in different of his messages with different words the same thing: Christianity is not a certain new, messianic religion and life in the messianic Kingdom, the same Kingdom that waited so much (or thought, waited) if not all Israel, then its overwhelming majority. Here is only, this Kingdom did not turn out such, as the majority waited to see it, and its life did not turn out as well such, as many waited. It, as seemed, has nothing common either with religion, or with the politics.

On the other hand it is directly connected to something "not of this world", what we cannot see with eyes and not feel with hands, what opens only thanks to the relationships and communication with the Resuscitated. And the apostle understands of course perfectly that, whatever are the external, historic reasons of the torture of Jesus, the spiritual reason of what happened is this rejection by the world of the Kingdom, which will not disappear until the moment of its [ this world] complete transfiguration. But if it is the case, then each of us, if only we are really Christians, i.e. the inhabitants of the Kingdom, has a relation to His death. Or, more exactly, His death has a relation with us.

And the problem here is not in the ascetic refusal of the world or a certain "mortification", which several Christians liked so much in the Middle Ages. The problem is that, to what extent we live according to the laws of the Kingdom, and to what extent the laws of the not transformed world have the power on us. In the current era, the era of the Kingdom to come, every Christian lives on the border of two worlds, belonging to both simultaneously: in the Kingdom and in this world being transformed, but not yet totally transformed, which existed before the arrival of the Savior. The same life can be considered for Christians as a norm; the question is only that what defines the life of a concrete Christian: the laws of the Kingdom or the laws of the not transformed world.

If and insofar it is defined by the laws of the Kingdom, then as much such a person will reject the not transformed world. But on the other hand according to the degree of rejection by the world, the Christian living according to the laws of the Kingdom will penetrate more and more into the life of the Kingdom, which Paul calls "the life of Jesus". Even remaining in the not transformed world, he will more and more become an inhabitant of the Kingdom and less an inhabitant of "this world". And the day of the complete and definitive triumph of the Kingdom, when the world will be finally totally transformed, the Kingdom will become the only reality of his life. The day of the triumph of the Kingdom will also become the day of his triumph.

Faith in the general resurrection appeared in the people of God not immediately. It is maybe impossible today to define the exact hour of its appearance. But we can say with certainty that one or two hundred years before even the coming of the Christ it was already spread everywhere, as well of course as in the evangelic period. But the traditional representations about the general resurrection supposed that this resurrection will become the anticipation of the last judgment and the day of the coming of the Messiah. Actually, it is in particular on the Judgment that had to be decided, who deserves to enter the Kingdom, and who is not. The apostle proposes to us another picture of the general resurrection.

As seen, he comes from the fact that the resurrection of Christ is not a certain supernatural event, exclusive in the history, that it marks by itself the beginning of another history, the history of the Kingdom entering into the world. And this whole history is the resurrection, the resurrection of those who make with the risen Christ a united spiritual whole, dwelling with Him in the same Kingdom. Here, as seen, for Paul, are bound together the history of the Kingdom and the spiritual biographies of its concrete inhabitants: every Christian passes the way of Christ, the way of the local, partial and incomplete losses, of the life for the entrance into a new life, the life of the Kingdom in all its plenitude.

And there, in the Kingdom, there’s already no historical time, such as we know it according to the not transformed world: all the resuscitated get up at the same time before Jesus, not because the time is an illusion, but because the world, becoming the Kingdom in all plenitude, meets around its center - the risen Christ, Who is the foundation of the whole history and the entire life of the Kingdom. So the triumph of Christ becomes the triumph of the Kingdom, and the triumph of the Kingdom – the triumph of everyone, which is involved there.

This idea - one of the central ideas in this epistle of Apostle Paul, opens us the intention of God for our salvation. The apostle sees it more in detail as follows. In the first place, on the base of all the intention lie the Embodiment of the Son of God and the creation of the Church.

When the Son of God shared voluntarily with us our human nature and our human life, becoming so similar to us in everything, except sin, by this He gave us the possibility of being together, with Him. This "together" is something rather mysterious; God Himself speaks about it "abide in me, as the branches abide in the vine". But Apostle Paul, according to ancient manuscripts, implied a simple sense of this word, and wrote "with Jesus", instead of "by Jesus ".

Further, in God’ plan, according to Paul, people living together with Jesus, become the participants of His resurrection.

The icon of the descent into hell, on which the Lord by hands pulls out of the grave Adam and Eve speaks about it most clearly. The Bible often calls the Christ the Shepherd of people, and in the East the Shepherd goes in front of the herd, clearing it the way.

Well, strictly speaking, that’s why the Church, which does not just represent a social institute, a "religious organization" in the terms of the civil law, but the real Body of the Christ, is so significant for us. The secret of the union with Christ in the baptism gives us this wonderful hope.

All the Christian history is largely, if not primarily, the history of preaching. However, it is necessary to recognize that this preaching was not fruitful in all the times. Why is it so? Many tried to answer this question, and the answers contained often a rather deep theological analysis of the question, which however did not always bring to the authors of such studies an unambiguous answer. Meanwhile, to find the answer would have not at all been difficult, if only we thought seriously, of who and what we preach, about what and of whom we testify.

What Jesus Himself preached during His earthly ministry? A new religion? A new morality? A new theology? No. He preached only one thing: the Kingdom, which, by His own words, " is at hand". And He didn’t leave on earth a community of preachers of the new religion, new morality or the new theology, but rather a community of people, who, dwelling with Him in constant communication, will become the inhabitants of this Kingdom, the proximity of which He testified, in order to carry this Kingdom into the world.

Christians are the witnesses of the Kingdom, in which they live, and of the One, Who brought the Kingdom into the world. Certainly, Christians can also witness different things, they can tell the world, for example, about their discoveries in the field of theology, or their reflections about morality, or their political ideas inspired by the reading of the Torah or the Gospel. They can also tell the world this new religiosity, which grew on the Christian base during the last two millenniums.

But, by telling all this, it is important to realize that such a witness is not a witness proper to Christian, and not because it contradicts the Gospel (a Christian cannot and should not admit such a contradiction by definition), but because it has no direct relation either with Christ, or with this Kingdom, the proximity 0f which He spoke. And today people, for the greater part, do not need new ideas and conceptions. They need the living resurrected Christ. And the Kingdom that He brought into the world.

Looking at the history of the humanity, nothing was invented till now that could go beyond the frame of the alternative of the progressivism or of catastrophe. Even also by looking at man we are before a choice between the philanthropy and the misanthropy. It is easy to be persuaded that a glance at the history is naturally correlated to the glance at man: the misanthrope will believe hardly in the progress leading to general happiness and prosperity, and the one who believes that man is initially good, will almost certainly believe in the fact that in the life of man there are no insoluble problems and general happiness is accessible, at least in principle.

The biblical glance at history is antinomic: on one hand, the whole history of the Christian era is nothing else than the history of the coming of the Kingdom, revealing itself more and more, the projection of which in the not transformed world is the history of Christian righteousness (or as it is usually called, the Christian holiness); on the other hand, the whole history of the "Christian" world is the history of this evil, in which, according to the word of the Gospel, lies the world and which manifests itself in the "Christian" history. The view of the Bible on man is also antinomic: on one hand, in all times was opened to man the way of righteousness, and God gave to His people the Torah, as guide on this way; on the other hand, as says God through the author of the Prologue of the Book of Genesis " all the intentions of man’s heart are evil from his youth", and we can do nothing of it before the complete transfiguration of the human nature.

So it turns out that the coming of the Kingdom neither in the life of man, nor in the history of the humanity doesn’t remind at all this progress, about which so dreamed the philanthropists of all times and all peoples, being sure that the gradual improvements of the technique, as well as morals will bring finally the humanity to the golden age. On the contrary, the coming of the Kingdom supposes the polarization of the forces opposing between themselves the forces of the Kingdom and the forces of this evil, in which lies the world.

In the history of humanity, as in the life of an individual. And more such an individual takes root in the life of the Kingdom, more considerably manifests itself in his life (inward, as outward) this evil, which is connected to his fallen nature. As in the humanity in the course of the world history, it does not appear of course again from nowhere and does not even increase in size, it simply becomes more visible, quite as also becomes more visible its opposition.

But the more this opposition is pushed away to " the outward", to the periphery of life, the more the one who seeks for the Kingdom takes root in his life. Well then the periphery remains less, it disappears gradually, and the inward, where manifests itself the life of the Kingdom is more. Here is only this process cannot end in the world not transformed and struck by evil. It ends in the Kingdom, and the one who does not see the Kingdom, does not also see its completion. Completion coinciding with the triumph of the Kingdom and the full transfiguration of the creation.

Apostle Paul speaks about "light afflictions" whereas he underwent in reality very heavy trials, few people can undergo such trials. He himself explains what’s the matter here, saying that he sees his afflictions transformed. The apostle sees them already finished, sees how their fruit is- the glory, sees them from the point of view of eternity, because now already - God sees our afflictions - when it is painful and it seems this will never end.

It will finish, and will be taken on in glory, quite as the Cross of the Christ ends with the Resurrection. And we already can approach today such a vision, if we look not "at the things which are seen, but which are not seen ".

We can look at things which are not seen only by faith, which Apostle Paul defines as "evidence of things not seen" (Heb. 11:1: "faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. ").

Faith relieves our afflictions and all that our life consists of. Only by faith, looking at things not seen, that is keeping in our heart, as the greatest jewel trust in God - the Creator, Curator of everything on earth and the Redeemer, that we become sighted, capable of seeing the meaning of our afflictions, and our enjoyments.

Only by faith we can get up until the height of the Divine intention and God’s way of dispensation, up to the firm, solid support, which is not exposed to time, does not disappear, does not change, does not deceive, because this is God.

Apostle Paul speaks about "light afflictions" whereas he underwent in reality very heavy trials, few people can undergo such trials. He himself explains what’s the matter here, saying that he sees his afflictions transformed. The apostle sees them already finished, sees how their fruit is- the glory, sees them from the point of view of eternity, because now already - God sees our afflictions - when it is painful and it seems this will never end.

It will finish, and will be taken on in glory, quite as the Cross of the Christ ends with the Resurrection. And we already can approach today such a vision, if we look not "at the things which are seen, but which are not seen ".

We can look at things which are not seen only by faith, which Apostle Paul defines as "evidence of things not seen" (Heb. 11:1: "faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. ").

Faith relieves our afflictions and all that our life consists of. Only by faith, looking at things not seen, that is keeping in our heart, as the greatest jewel trust in God - the Creator, Curator of everything on earth and the Redeemer, that we become sighted, capable of seeing the meaning of our afflictions, and our enjoyments.

Only by faith we can get up until the height of the Divine intention and God’s way of dispensation, up to the firm, solid support, which is not exposed to time, does not disappear, does not change, does not deceive, because this is God.

The idea according to which the afflictions endured by Christians in this world become in the Kingdom their glory, already probably became a commonplace. And nevertheless: what wants to say the apostle, speaking about afflictions, which in "the unseen", on which it is only necessary to look and of which it is only necessary to have in mind, turn around in glory? Do his words mean only that in the eternal life, in the fullness of the Kingdom "nobody is forgotten, nothing is forgotten", and every feat of faith of every Christian will receive in his new life a worthy evaluation? Probably, this also. But only it? What is it, in reality, this glory, about which Paul writes? The greatness, the celebrity? Probably, no all the same.

At least, in the Greek-speaking biblical books, this word corresponds to the Jew, which means glory, as God's presence, this very luminous presence, which accompanied the Jewish people throughout their history, beginning with the Exodus. And if to speak about such a glory, then it is necessary to speak already not about the memory and even not the rewards, here it is not about the encouragement of the heroes, even those who completely deserved it.

It is necessary to speak here about this measure of the fullness of God's presence, which is given to the man who seeks for the Kingdom and joins it. Well then it turns out that these persecutions and afflictions, that the Christian endures for his faith and for his faithfulness, open not only to himself the fullness of the life of the Kingdom, but also sanctify him, making him a bearer of this presence of God, which during centuries accompanied the people of God and that penetrated the Kingdom. And the problem here is not in the fact that the afflictions in themselves move the man closer to the Kingdom.

The problem is in what the Savior had already spoken Himself, calling back the inevitability of the persecutions: these persecutions are a kind of compass showing that the persecuted was not on the wrong way. Of course, these persecutions can take various forms, but the aversion by the fallen world of those who bring to this world God's presence, was, is and will be, otherwise the fallen world would stop being itself.

The time will come, when that will take place, the day of the triumph of the Kingdom, when its inhabitants and the carriers of the glory of God will become in the world his’. But for that the world has to be completely transformed, its nature itself has to become other, transparent for the actions of the breath of God and obeying it completely. But for the moment the conflict is inevitable, and "a light affliction open "an eternal weight of glory". "Light" because all which is connected to the fallen nature of the not transformed world is temporary. "Eternal weight" because the Kingdom is for ever.

In its view of history, humanity has still not invented anything beyond the alternative of progressivism or catastrophism. In exactly the same way, in its view of the human being, we stand before a choice between philanthropy and misanthropy. It is not hard to be convinced that the view of history naturally correlates with the view of the human being: a misanthrope will hardly believe in progress leading to universal happiness and prosperity, while one who believes that the human being is originally good will almost certainly also believe that in the life of humanity there are no insoluble problems and that universal happiness is attainable, at least in principle.

The biblical view of history, however, is antinomic: on the one hand, the entire history of the Christian era is nothing other than the history of the advancing and ever more fully revealing Kingdom, the projection of which into the untransformed world is the history of Christian righteousness, or, as it is usually called, Christian holiness; on the other hand, the whole history of the "Christian" world is the history of that evil in which, according to the word of the Gospel, the world lies, and which manifests itself in "Christian" history. The biblical view of the human being is just as antinomic: on the one hand, the path of righteousness was open to the human being in every age, and God gave His people the Torah as a guide on this path; on the other hand, as God says through the author of the Prologue of Genesis, "every intention of the human heart is evil from his youth", and nothing can be done about this before the full transformation of human nature. Thus it turns out that the coming of the Kingdom, neither in the life of an individual person nor in the history of humanity, resembles in the least that progress of which philanthropists of all times and peoples dreamed, being sure that gradual improvements both of technology and of morals would finally bring humanity into a golden age.

On the contrary, the coming of the Kingdom presupposes the polarization of the mutually opposing forces of the Kingdom and the forces of that evil in which the world lies. This is so both in the history of humanity and in the life of an individual person. And the more such a person is rooted in the life of the Kingdom, the more noticeably that evil connected with his fallen nature manifests itself in his life, both inner and outer. As in humanity in the course of world history, it does not, of course, appear anew from nowhere and does not even increase in size; it simply becomes more noticeable, just as its opposition becomes more noticeable.

But this opposition is pushed all the more toward the "external", to the periphery of life, the more the seeker of the Kingdom is rooted in its life. Then less and less periphery remains; it gradually disappears, while there is more and more of the inner, that in which the life of the Kingdom manifests itself. Only this process cannot be completed in an untransformed world wounded by evil. It is completed in the Kingdom, and the one who does not see the Kingdom does not see its completion either. A completion that coincides with the triumph of the Kingdom and the full transformation of creation.