NOTES for Mar 4:10-23

The parable of the sower, one of the best-known among the parables of the Lord Jesus Christ, has been handed down to us by three evangelists, and therefore we encounter it many times in the cycle of church readings. First of all, this parable is important for us because of its direct content. The Lord speaks about the reasons why we do not respond to God's call, to His word addressed to us. And these reasons are such that there is room for them in the life of almost every person. It is striking how clearly the Lord sees human nature... For the Creator, of course, this is natural. But it is noteworthy that He gives the explanation of these reasons to the apostles, who are to preach, and whose word will be received with all the difficulties about which the Lord warns them. It is important for the apostles to understand this so that they do not fall into temptation. To all the listeners, however, the Lord offers the parable without commentary, giving them the opportunity to apply it to themselves. This spiritual work is not always simple for people, but if it is done, a great deal becomes visible. And this applies not only to neophytes, but to all Christians. That is why the evangelists included in their narratives not only the parable, but also its explanation.

Also very important is the image of the seed and the sowing, which Christ uses repeatedly and which serves as a symbol of His ministry. The characteristic feature of this image is that the seed does not sprout at once, grows slowly, and requires care. This frees us from the tempting desire to observe the process of its growth in us, giving us the opportunity to focus on God Himself rather than on what He will give us. At the end of today's passage, the Lord Himself specifically emphasizes for the disciples that the seed will certainly sprout, because there is nothing hidden that will not become manifest. This remark of His, spoken to the apostles, is directed especially against a "technological" approach to spiritual growth.

Many people perceive these words as a kind of classification of people. There are those to whom it is given; everyone else, however much they might wish otherwise, remains outside. But this clearly contradicts Christianity's humanistic universalism. Of course, Christ is describing different states in which our soul finds itself at different moments of our life. At times it resembles stone; then we are deaf both to the word of God and to the problems and needs of other people, and in the end we cannot even tear ourselves away from a monitor or television—or any number of other things—to look at how beautiful the sky is above us. All that remains is to beg the Lord to deliver us from “stony insensibility.” At times we receive another person into ourselves, but only while that person is here beside us speaking about his troubles; once out of sight, he is out of mind. Only in brief moments of life do we feel God's grace within us, when new meanings suddenly open up in the Word and in another person.

Have you noticed how schizophrenia is nowadays spread? Certain specialists already refuse to put a limit between it and the norm. Because a split conscience, a double life (or more) have really became in fact a norm. We are different according to the circumstances of our life – with people or alone. We live, thinking that nobody will know who we are in our loneliness. We have lost integrity, the integrality of life, because we think that nobody sees us when nobody looks at us; we have lost the feeling of God's presence. And Jesus warns us: all what is hidden in us as secret, grows gradually, monopolizes more and more our "ego", and bursts forth after all in broad daylight. Secret comes abroad! In order to escape such a disaster, Jesus proposes us completeness, unique life, a life where we shall constantly lay ahead of God, no matter if people look at us at the moment or not. Light is not horrible if there is nothing to hide.

Have you noticed how widespread schizophrenia is in our time? Some specialists already refuse to draw a line between it and normality. For divided consciousness, a double (or multiple) life, has in fact become the norm. When we are in public, we are one thing, and when we are alone with ourselves, another. We live counting on the fact that no one will find out what we are like in solitude. We have lost wholeness, the integrity of life, because we think that when no one is looking at us, no one sees us either; we have lost the sense of God's presence. But Jesus warns us: what we keep inside ourselves as a secret gradually grows, taking over more and more of our "self," and in the end breaks out. What is hidden becomes manifest.

In order for such a catastrophe not to happen, Jesus offers us a whole, unified life, a life of constant standing before God, regardless of whether people see us at that moment or not. If there is nothing hidden, then the light is not frightening.

Jesus' words about a lamp that is not hidden under a basket and about the one who has being given more are very closely connected; it is no accident that in the Gospel they stand side by side. At first glance, the statement that only the one who has will be given more may seem unfair: we are used to thinking that the haves should help the have-nots, but here it turns out that it is precisely the haves who have a chance to receive something beyond what they already have, while the rest cannot count on much.

The point, however, is that the laws of spiritual life differ somewhat from the laws of physical life, just as the spiritual world differs in many ways from the physical world. In the physical world, giving always presupposes the depletion of the one who gives. If I share something with another person, I have less of what I shared.

In the spiritual world and in spiritual life, everything is different. It is different not because it consists of some special substance with special properties, but because the spiritual world differs from the physical world by God's immediate presence, which determines its existence. Therefore the potential of the physical world is limited, while the potential of the spiritual world is boundless. The physical world is limited by its own nature; the spiritual world, being in its foundation the embodiment of an ongoing theophany, is limited by nothing.

Of course, we are not speaking of two different worlds. This is only a more or less conditional description, a description of two states of creation: on the one hand, its face, by which it is turned toward God, and on the other, its reverse side, by which it is turned inward toward itself. Having become used to life on the reverse side of creation, a life God never intended for us, we can hardly imagine giving as a process of accumulation rather than expenditure. In the spiritual world, on the face of creation, that is exactly what it is.

Here, the more you give, the more you receive, because to give means to enter the stream of that divine life which forms the foundation of the spiritual world. That is why the lamp cannot be hidden under a basket: if there is light, it must be visible, otherwise there will be no giving. Such logic is certainly unfamiliar to us, but it is the logic of the Kingdom, and Jesus calls us to live by following it, not the logic of this world.

Today the Lord addresses to us one of the most important questions: "How do we listen?" We regularly read the Bible, and even visit Bible sites on the Internet, but do we have ears to receive the Word, let it take root in our heart, and bear fruit?

The Lord says: "With the measure you use, it will be measured to you, and more will be added to you who hear." In essence this means: what a person wants to find in Scripture, and in God's revelation in general, is what he will find. The Bible can provide us with the richest material for history, literature, philology, mysticism, and so on, but only the one who seeks in it the knowledge of God, that is, living personal relations with Him built on trust and love, will be able to find God in reading Holy Scripture.

And here the words that "to the one who has, more will be given" acquire their meaning. In listening to and understanding the Word of God, we can only deepen and multiply what we already have; that is, we must approach it from within an already existing bond with God, in faith and prayer.

Today's reading tells us about Jesus' parables, in which He speaks of the gradual and unnoticed coming of the Kingdom of God, which, at the same time, in the end becomes so noticeable that it is impossible not to pay attention to it. In these parables the image of a sprouting grain constantly appears, an image widely spread in antiquity throughout all the countries of the Near East, from Egypt to Babylonia. The sprouting grain became here a symbol of eternal, constantly renewed life, which stands against death and conquers it. It is not surprising that Jesus uses this image to describe the Kingdom of God, for in the Kingdom of God everyone is given the whole fullness of life that can be imagined, and there is no place for death in it. But it does not come all at once, in such a way that the beginning of its coming is noticeable to everyone. Clearly, in order for the Kingdom of God to be revealed in all its fullness, time is needed, and this is exactly what Jesus speaks about, comparing it to a seed that at first is unnoticeable and then grows into a tree visible to everyone. This same passage mentions Jesus' calming of the storm that arose on Lake Gennesaret while He and the disciples were crossing to the opposite Galilean shore. It should be noted that storms on Lake Gennesaret are not uncommon, especially in winter. Winters in Galilee are warm; even in January the temperature rarely drops below +10, but strong winds blow, and on Lake Gennesaret, with its by no means small size, real storms occur. Fishing boats, even fairly large ones, are still not as large as real seagoing ships, and such storms pose serious danger to them. Fishermen caught by a storm far from shore could be in real danger of death, although the event was not taking place on the sea. Jesus calms one of these storms, saving the lives of His companions.

The Word is sown without words. Instead of Jesus Christ's teachings about God's Kingdom, the Word itself is sown on Earth (now with a capital letter), in order to bear fruit a hundredfold, to accomplish the mission given to Him by the Father. For the other words, however much they move us, however much they set us aflame, remain only words. No meeting with them is possible; one can love them only as an idea. On Christmas night is born the One who does not yet know how to speak, but in whom the Creator is already speaking with the world, addressing everyone who can hear. How far this conversation will go, whether the Word sown then will dry up or perish, depends on a few people who love their Son, and on everyone who was with them in the Bethlehem cave.

The parable of the sower is fairly transparent in meaning, especially since the Savior Himself explains it. What is most interesting here is the sequence in which the obstacles are listed, the obstacles that stand before a person on the way into the Kingdom. It all begins with the need to hear the word about the Kingdom. This is, of course, not simply a matter of some words about the Kingdom reaching a person's ears; one must truly hear, pay attention, and then turn one's heart to what the witness says.

In fact, this is conversion, without which the path into the Kingdom will not begin. Conversion, however, varies, because in different cases it touches different layers of the human person, the soul and the heart. There is a superficial conversion, at the level of idle interest - and then a person remains an adherent of Christ and the Kingdom only until the first problems, difficulties, and persecutions. This does not necessarily mean some persecution organized by the authorities; the problems and difficulties that inevitably arise before anyone who wants to rebuild life according to a new ideal are enough.

If the ideal is received superficially enough, the person simply will not want the problems connected with it and will step aside. It happens, however, that conversion is deep enough for the new convert to endure even real persecutions. He has enough resolve; he is ready to follow Christ into the Kingdom, but he does not yet have experience of the spiritual path. Yet resolve alone is not enough; one also needs the skill of the path, experience connected with the process of spiritual formation. It is not acquired quickly; it requires consistency and persistence. The spiritual work itself connected with the Christian path often turns out to be rather dull, unflashy, outwardly unnoticed. It certainly includes bright spiritual experiences too, but they make up, conventionally speaking, about ten percent of this work, while the rest is painstaking effort to build one's own life, inward and outward. It is like artists and athletes: one or several bright days of glory presuppose several years of intense labor hidden from those around them.

If a person is not ready for such work, if he is constantly distracted by something else that matters more to him, he may set out on the spiritual path, but fairly soon he will inevitably turn away from it, remaining at best only an amateur of vivid spiritual experiences. But if a person is ready for the corresponding effort, then, showing resolve and consistency, he will surely bear his fruit - for God does not leave without help those who take spiritual life seriously. Here everything depends on the person himself.

Today's reading tells of Jesus' preaching on the shore of the Lake of Gennesaret. Judging by the Gospel accounts, this place was one of Christ's favorite places to preach in Galilee. More people could gather on the shore of the lake than in any synagogue, even the largest one, and the chance of conflict with opponents was somewhat lower there, so no one would have been very likely to interfere with the preaching.

As a rule, Jesus preaches to His listeners by speaking in parables, and then explains the meaning of those parables to His closest disciples, the apostles. This method was generally widespread in the ancient East, and in some countries it is still used just as widely today. In this way the speaker achieved two important aims: he expanded the meaning of what was said and made his listeners think.

The language of a parable is always symbolic, and a symbol is always rich in meanings. Something said in the form of a parable always allows more than one interpretation, and for that reason a parable can convey to the listener truths that could not be adequately expressed, for example, in strict scientific language. In addition, a parable never gives ready-made answers, and therefore the listener or reader must always search for those answers personally, reflecting on the variety of meanings the parable offers. An answer found independently was, of course, remembered and absorbed better than one received in finished form, which only had to be heard and memorized. Thanks to the parables, Jesus' preaching became a form of living communication with those who listened to Him. Without them it would have turned into something like a scholarly lecture, and the Gospel would have resembled a textbook, whose reading may have been useful but most likely would not have brought the joy it brings us today.

And yet, when a parable was not entirely clear to Jesus' closest disciples, He Himself explained it to them, as described in today's passage. An adequate understanding of Jesus' words was absolutely necessary for the apostles: they had a mission to preach, and without such understanding that mission would have been impossible.