NOTES for Act 4:23-31

The reaction of the Jerusalem Christian community to the conflict between the apostles and the temple leadership is very interesting and revealing. No one, as we see, doubted that this conflict was a continuation of another conflict, the conflict of the Savior Himself with the religious leaders of the Synagogue and the same temple leadership, which brought Him to the cross. What Jesus had told them was coming true: they, His followers, would be persecuted by their own people. The simplest thing would have been to interpret this conflict as religious, as a conflict between the emerging Christian religion and Judaism. But on closer examination the picture changes somewhat.

First, the conflict occurred over the question of sacred names, more precisely, over whether the name of Jesus could be considered sacred in the same way that, for example, the name Yahweh was considered sacred. This is a question of spiritual practice, of spiritual life, not of religion as such. One decision or another about it could not have had much influence on strictly religious life, except that Christians might have introduced among themselves the practice of invoking the name of Jesus in prayer. But overall it would have changed the life of the Synagogue very little and would most likely have been noticeable only to the Christians themselves.

Nor was this conflict religious in another sense. The fact is that Christians were not aiming at all to create some separate religious tradition: the first and second, and perhaps even third, generations were fully satisfied with Judaism in religious terms. Christians did have their own synagogues, but they were practically no different from all the others. Only the Christians' breaking of bread differed from the strictly Jewish one: they always performed it while invoking the name of Jesus.

Early Christianity was not a religion at all. It was a community of people striving to meet Christ and attain the Kingdom. And this was connected with the essence of the conflict between the apostles and the temple leadership, which defended precisely religion, traditional religious institutions, while itself representing the chief one among them. It was a conflict of the Kingdom and its inhabitants with religion, its rules, and its institutions as such, not a conflict between two religions.

And this conflict did not end with the destruction of the Temple in AD 70, because religious institutions did not disappear with it. On the contrary, Christianity itself in its history gave rise to many Christian religions and religious institutions. Perhaps that is why the Savior's words about the inevitability of persecution by one's own people remain relevant for all time: the Kingdom is greater than any religion, and the inhabitants of the Kingdom will always be strangers among their own people for those who limit themselves to religious boundaries.

The reaction of both the apostles themselves and the early Christian Church to the threats from the Sanhedrin is revealing. They take no measures for their own protection. They simply hand the whole situation over into God's hands. One could, of course, think that they were simply unable to do anything more. But that was not entirely so. Of course, the threat was serious, but there were things they could have tried to change. In any case, they could at least have tried to discuss some plan of possible action.

But no one does anything of the kind. Nothing like it even comes into anyone's mind. What is this: carelessness? Despair? Clearly not: the apostles do not at all look like careless or desperate people. The point is something else: they understand that what the Sanhedrin is trying to attack cannot be defended by human means.

And it does not need such defense. If Christianity were a religion, then of course one could try to defend it by some human powers and means. But the issue is not religion, but life. The life of the Kingdom. A Kingdom which only someone with no understanding at all of what it is would try to defend by human powers and means. The Kingdom does not need human defense. People who live this life are another matter: they do sometimes have to defend their life. But how can you defend your life if it, like the Kingdom itself, is, according to the Savior's word, "not of this world"?

Clearly, in only one way: by not getting in its way. By not getting in the way of its manifesting itself in all fullness. And this means continuing to live the life of the Kingdom to the extent that it is open to the one living it at that specific moment. Paying no attention to everything else. Understanding that in any case and in any situation this is the Christian's main work. And that it becomes all the more central when a Christian is required to betray this life, to renounce it for the sake of anything at all.

At that point, maneuvering and attempts to find a compromise doom a person to complete and unconditional defeat. For the Kingdom can enter a person's life either unconditionally or not at all. And if a person surrounds its presence in his life with some conditions, compromises, and the like, then the Kingdom will not be in that person's life. And Christ will not enter his life either: why put a person who is embarrassed by your company in an awkward position? That is why the apostles do not try to undertake anything in response to the threats of the Sanhedrin. They only ask God to enter this situation and resolve it as He considers best. For Himself and for them.

Before us is an example of the prayer of the first Christians. How open their hearts are to the Lord, how directly they cry out to their Creator. And this is possible because now they belong to Jesus and follow Him, leaving everything unclean aside. There is no wall of sin blocking them from His light. And in our baptism with the Holy Spirit, the Lord gives us the possibility of breaking down this wall with His help, bringing down upon it all the joy and exultation of the Resurrection.

But whatever the case, then comes the path, and it is a path with obstacles, because "the enemy does not sleep." So the apostles, united by the One and into one, bring to the Father what is happening around them, asking for "all boldness" to speak the word of God. And they ask this not despite what He promised: "...do not worry about how or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour; for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking in you", but precisely because of it. In the same way, the Word of God is given to us in order to direct our prayer and strengthen faith in His power and mercy.

The Apostles were not frightened by the Sanhedrin's threats and prayed that God would give them courage to proclaim the Good News. Many of them would later die as martyrs and become examples for many thousands of Christian martyrs. The courage for which they ask has nothing to do with a readiness to commit a reckless act. For the Apostles, God's will is far more real and substantial than all the threats made by Christ's opponents. Christian courage is therefore directly connected with faith—with the fullness of life in the risen Lord Jesus. The stronger this faith, the more evident it is to a person that no threats can compare with the blessedness and happiness Christ gives. Conversely, the fear of losing life, property, work, or friendship, from which all of us suffer to some degree, calls the reality of our faith into question...