NOTES for Isa 2:11-21

Today in Isaiah's prophecy we hear a severe warning, at the same time filled with astonishing hope. The prophet says that the day of the Lord is coming against everything proud and exalted. These words almost literally coincide with the words of the Lord Jesus Christ, who says that the one who exalts himself will be humbled. The prophet says of human greatness that it will fall.

Usually we emphasize the word "greatness," and we are distressed by such a prophecy. But for the prophet himself what matters, on the contrary, is that this is human greatness, not God's. The Lord alone will be exalted in that day, he says. From this fact the prophet sees the result that the idols will disappear completely. And in this lies the hope of our world.

We ourselves are unable to free ourselves from slavery to idols, if not material ones, then spiritual ones. We do not always even understand exactly how we are guilty of idolatry. But the Day of the Lord, the day of Christ's coming, when all idols will fall, will become the day of our liberation. And in this lies our hope of salvation.

We are used to seeing ourselves and one another as something more or less unchanging. No, of course, we all understand perfectly well that people change. But we usually perceive these changes as something secondary. There is I - Ivan Ivanych Ivanov. I was once a child, but now I am an adult. The way I am. With my more-or-less unchanging height, weight, facial features, habits, and character. With a soul that also appears to change and yet appears to remain unchanged. In general, a more-or-less stable system, within acceptable deviations. Comparatively static, again within acceptable deviations. With its own unchanging structure. But the Bible describes us human beings quite differently.

From the Bible's point of view, we are not a stable system at all. And not a structure. We are a process. More precisely, the intersection of two processes layered upon one another. One is what the Bible calls the "soul," the "living soul." This is not some stable and unchanging immortal entity within a person. According to the meaning of the corresponding Hebrew word, it is a process, a flow, a movement. A movement in which the whole person participates. A flow that includes both the highest spiritual movements of our heart and simple physiology, such as breathing and blood circulation. Animals also have such a "soul."

But we human beings have something else: the "breath of life," which God "breathes" into us at creation. This is what makes us human. An inner theophany. We are not divine beings, but God is present in each of us. And His presence makes us human. If, of course, it defines our life, its spiritual quality. In the fallen state, it may fail to define it. Then our "soul" is defined by nature, by "blood," as with all animals, whose "soul is in the blood." And in fallen humanity the "soul" can also turn out to be "in the blood."

God intended us differently. He wants Himself, through His presence, to define the quality of our life, of our "soul." And there, where the "breath of life" touches the "soul," at this intersection of two processes - the spiritual and the natural, since breath too is a process and is not limited to one inhalation and one exhalation - we acquire our human life. We become the image of God. And then we either preserve it or lose it. For life is a process. And God has left it to us to determine the measure of His presence in it. As free and responsible beings. Beings whom God loves and therefore does not want to force into anything, even gratitude. He only offers us life - and life in its fullness. The choice is ours.

And so the first prohibition appears. Do not eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. And we freedom-loving people immediately feel offended: what does that mean, everything is allowed, but this is not? Why plant it then? Did He want to torment us? He planted it Himself and then forbids it? And why is it forbidden? Let us sort it out. First, who told us that everything planted in Eden had to be for man? Why, in fact, could God not have His own plans for this tree? And second... What is knowledge? In biblical language, knowledge is not only and not so much information as possession, authority. Can a "brand-new," still very "small" human being be entrusted at once with power over good and evil? Too early. Not everything can be entrusted at once. So even if God planted this tree precisely for man, it was more than reasonable on His part to postpone the moment when man would become acquainted with its fruits. As for what happened when man decided to hurry, we have already read that... in the next chapter.

Without this biblical verse it is impossible to understand what God's design for the human being consists in, why God created us. One can build a huge number of more or less pious hypotheses, but all of them will be our own judgments, and guesswork at that. Trust in the Word of God allows us not to engage in this fruitless pastime. In truth, who can know why God created us? Only God. Is this knowledge important for us? Of course; without it we cannot participate in the fulfillment of God's will for us. Then this knowledge must be handed on to us by the Word of God.

What, then, is said here, if these words are translated from symbolic language into ordinary language? Of course, with such a translation the beauty, concision, aphoristic quality, and many-layered meaning will be lost, but what can be done? So: God planted the garden of Eden, and in this garden there is everything needed for human life: land, an abundance of water (four rivers watering the whole earth), plants suitable for food, and even the tree of life. That is, God created a world in which the human being does not need to fight for survival.

What, then, is the human being to do in such a garden, where everything already exists? "To cultivate it and keep it." This is the paradoxical assignment given to the human being. Why paradoxical? Because to cultivate means to change, while to keep means not to change.

God offers the human being a share in His creation of the world (the following scene with the animals illustrates this thought), but not in its destruction. By preserving and sustaining in his activity the same motive that exists in God, love for the world, the human being is to apply all the creative abilities given to him by God in order to raise all Creation to the Creator, including himself. Is that not a worthy occupation?

It is impossible to understand of what God's plan for man consists of, why God created us without this biblical verse. We can enumerate a big quantity of more or less pious hypotheses, but they will all be only our appreciations, besides conjectural. Trust in God's Word allows us not to be engaged with this infertile pastime. Indeed, who can know why God created us? Only God. Is this knowledge important for us? Of course, without it we can’t participate in the fulfillment of God's will on us. So this knowledge must be transmitted to us through God's Word.

What is thus said here, if we translate these words from the symbolic language into the common (certainly, with such translation the beauty, the terseness, the aphoristic aspect and the polysemy are lost, but - we have no choice)? Thus, God planted a garden in Eden, and besides there is all that is necessary for a man’s life in this garden: the ground, abundance of water (four rivers watering all the earth), plants useful for meal and even the tree of life. This means God created such a world, wherein man does not have to fight to survive. What can man then do in a garden, where there is already everything? "To cultivate and keep it ". Here such paradoxical order is given to man. Why paradoxical? Because “to cultivate” means changing, and “to keep” means changing nothing. God proposes to man to take part in His creation of the world (the following scene with animals illustrates this idea), and not its destruction. Keeping and supporting in our activities the same motive, as the one which is in God - the love of the world, - applying all the creative capacities given to man by God for exaltation towards the Creator of all the Creation (including oneself). A worthy occupation, isn’t it!

It is not surprising that a person's relationship with God also presupposes God's instruction toward that person; the corresponding Hebrew word means, first of all, not "punishment," but precisely "instruction" or "correction." What are God's instructions like? And do they presuppose punishment in the sense in which we use this word today, and not in that archaic meaning assumed by the Synodal translation? Much here depends on how one understands instruction and punishment, and on where one sees the goal and meaning of each.

In the fallen world, instruction is often reduced to a kind of gentle training: a person is instructed in order to instill in him the corresponding rules of behavior, namely those advantageous and convenient for society. Often no one thinks about the person himself. Usually it is either presumed that the rules of behavior worked out by society are certainly good for everyone, or for those called "normal people" - in practice, this actually means precisely those people for whom the rules worked out by society are acceptable - or it is taken for granted that society and its interests are more important than the interests of an individual person, and more important than that person himself. And for those who, for some reason, do not want to accept this order of things, punishments are provided, whose goal is either harsher training where gentle training does not work, or revenge on the one who dares violate the rules of the game established for everyone. Of course, no one gives a thought to the person, to his spiritual life, or to his spiritual condition: such things are considered each person's private business, which concerns no one except the person himself and interests no one.

For God, however, the most important thing is precisely the person's spiritual condition, for which He cares above all. His main goal is to change a person inwardly in such a way that he becomes capable of full communion with God. Of course, in doing this He often has to rebuke a person, pointing out to him in various ways those sins, or simply those features of character and way of life, that can become an obstacle on the spiritual path. But God does not need trained beasts, even highly intelligent ones. Nor does He intend to take revenge on anyone.

Therefore punishments in the earthly sense are of no use to Him. The only thing God uses as something resembling our earthly punishments is His withdrawal. At times, when it becomes clear to Him that a person wants no relationship with Him, He can simply turn away from that person. Of course, He never forgets anyone definitively; otherwise the person whom God forgot would simply disappear like smoke. At times He can hand over an individual person or a community of people, and sometimes an entire nation, to their own fate. Usually this is enough for those who have been left to begin loudly crying out about God's punishment. Although in reality, of course, there is no punishment from God here at all: people are simply reaping the fruits of their own sinful life, and this harvest is in no way softened by God's intervention. For a person, such nonintervention proves more terrible than any punishment, since every punishment has a beginning and an end, and most importantly, it always has at least some meaning. Evil, however, whether generated by people or demons, has neither purpose nor meaning. And without God's intervention, it would also have no end. Without such intervention our world would already have turned into hell today. This is the harshest instruction of all those to which God resorts when addressing a person: to let him feel what hell is already here on earth. A frightening lesson, but an entirely visible one.

One of the two caricatures of the image of God settles down more easily in the consciousness of man darkened by sin: the dreadful gendarme, chastising without remorse for the slightest fault, or a grandpa looking with affection all "the escapades of the children". It is not probably even worth saying how much these representations are far from the images, which the Holy Scriptures proposes us. And the main of these images is the image of the Father. Probably, we all bear in us a distorted representation of paternity, because from childhood we were hurt or undergone indifference from the father, or by his cruelty, and maybe we had never known him. Perhaps, this is the reason why we even aren’t in the state to imagine the simultaneity of benevolence and chastening, justice and mercy, love and correction.

We take for God’s chastening just the natural consequences of our own sins and not the obscuration of our relationships with Him. We take for God's benevolence our temporary well-being, and not the constant desire of God to be present in our life. We are seriously sick - inside, spiritually. And for our healing, God manifests to us the perfection of the relationship of the Father and the Son and gives us the Spirit of adoption, so that we can become the children of God and heirs of His glory. And today’s verse calls each of us: my son, despise not what is stretched out to you!

It is not surprising that the relationships of the man with God also suppose God's instructions to man (the Jewish corresponding word means, first of all, not "punishment" as in certain translations of the Bible, but in particular "the instruction" or "correction"). What are God's instructions? And do they suppose in particular the punishment in this sense, in which we use this word today, and not in its archaic meaning, of which certain translations suppose (by using the word punishment)? Probably, a lot depends here on the way we understand the words instruction and punishment, on in what we see the purpose and the sense of both. In the fallen world the instruction is often reduced in a kind of soft training, man is trained in order to implant him the corresponding rules of conduct (and especially advantageous and comfortable to the society).

And quite often we do not even think about the man: usually, either it is supposed that the rules of conduct developed by the society, are manifestly good for all or for those that are called "normal people" (in practice it is just in particular about these people, for whom the rules developed by the society turn out acceptable), either it is considered as an end in itself that the society with its interests is more important than the interests of the individual, as, moreover, and the society itself. And for those who for some reasons do not want to accept such an order of things, punishments are planned, the purpose of which is either a more harder training, where does not work the soft, or vengeance towards the one who dared to violate the rules of the game established for all. Nobody thinks of course about man, his spiritual life and his spiritual state: such things are considered as a private affair of each, which does not concern and interest anybody else than the one who lives it. But for God, the most important is just particularly the spiritual state of man, of which He takes care above all. His main purpose is to change the man from the inside so that he is capable of a full communion with God.

Of course, besides, He rebukes rather often the man, showing him by various means these sins or simply these peculiarities of the character and the lifestyle of the latter, which can become an obstacle on the spiritual way. But God does not need trained animals, even if very intellectual. And He also tries to take revenge of nobody. That is why punishment in the earthly sense is of no use to Him. The only thing that God uses as something similar to our earthly punishments, is His departure. Sometimes, when it is obvious to Him that somebody wants no relationships with Him, he can simply turn away from this one. Of course, He never forgets whoever it maybe definitively, otherwise the man that God forgot, would disappear as the smoke. But sometimes he can grant to an individual or a community of persons (and sometimes even a whole nation) their own fate.

Usually, this is sufficient so that those who remain, begin to shout highly about God's punishment. Although in fact, it is not of course here about God's punishment: people simply harvest the fruit of their own sinful life, and this harvest becomes milder not at all by God's intervention. But for man such nonintervention is more terrible than any punishment: because every punishment has a beginning and an end, and more important, it always has at least certain sense. As for the evil (no matter, if it is engendered by men or devils), it has neither purpose, nor sense. And without God's intervention it wouldn’t have had an end. Our world without such an intervention would turn into hell already today. Probably, it is the toughest of all instructions, to which could turn, addressing man: let him feel what is hell, already here, on earth. A lesson that frightens, but completely intuitive.

All people's hopes in themselves and in other people are in vain... Only when the word of the Lord reaches people, when the Lord Himself reigns, when all nations believe and call upon His name—only then will there be true light and genuine peace on earth.

What is the human being? And what is the Garden of Eden? At first glance it may appear that the issue is a completely real, earthly geography. Yet every people has such a sacred geography. Every people has its own sacred land, its own mythological ancestral homeland, usually where that people's historical memory awoke, where its own history began for it. The Jews remember themselves from the time of Abraham, and that means Harran, Northern Mesopotamia, where the Garden of Eden is located. There was something else as well: the memory of the times the Greeks called the "golden age," when the human being lived in full harmony with the world, with other people, with the gods, and with himself as well. The Garden of Eden in the Book of Genesis combines features of the mythological ancestral homeland of the Jewish people with a description of the world in the times of the "golden age"; in this way the sacred writer wants to tell us that those times are not merely myth, that at one time the human being really did live in full harmony with God, with the world, with himself, and with other people.

What, then, was the perfect human being like? In the Poem of Creation it is said of him that he, alone of all the living beings created by God in our world, was created in the image and likeness of God. All the animals are created, each according to its "kind," or, as we would say today, according to its prototype. Only the human being has no prototype: every human being is created according to the image of God, and God Himself becomes the human being's "prototype." How is such a thing possible? From the point of view of his nature, the human being does not differ from other living beings; he is created by God from the "dust of the earth," and the whole universe, as people thought in the times when the account of the creation of the human being was written, consists of the tiniest specks of dust. There is nothing unique in human nature as such. The human being's uniqueness lies elsewhere: in that "breath of life" through which he becomes a "living soul." In the Bible, "soul" is not a static structure, but a process, the stream of life in which both the spiritual and the natural component are present: here are lofty spiritual movements, and simple physiology too, such as breathing or blood circulation.

A modern philosopher would probably call this stream existence. Such is the human soul in the biblical sense of the word. And the stream of human life exists in the quality in which it exists thanks to that very "breath of life," God's breath, God's presence at the very center of our own personhood, which makes that personhood's very existence possible. If there were no divine "breath of life," there would be no human being as the image of God; there would simply be another species of primates. That is why there is no human being without continuous communion with God: after all, breathing is not a one-time act, but a process that must continue without interruption. The human being was conceived and created by God for continuous communion with God, outside of which, spiritually speaking, he simply cannot remain himself. And yet God leaves the human being freedom: he can live as God proposes to him, or choose his own version of existence, under his full responsibility for all the consequences of his choice.

What stands behind the description of a wondrous garden where unheard-of fruits grow, where great rivers flow, where birds and animals bow their heads before the human being and receive new names from him, acknowledging his authority over the whole earth? Human language can speak about paradise only in symbols, painting a picture of the harmony and joyful stillness of nature, which knows that it was created for the sake of the human being. Perhaps harmony is the key word in this picture: nothing yet darkens the relationship between man and woman, who have not yet forgotten how to love; nothing stands between the human being and the fruits of Eden. God and the human being still live in one garden, open to one another, and this is paradise.

On careful reading of the account of the creation of the human being that we find in the second chapter of Genesis, it is not hard to notice that it is a kind of commentary and explanation of the description of the sixth "day of creation" as we see it in the first chapter. Indeed, the very appearance of the Garden of Eden (vv. 8-14) on the site of what had previously been a barren wilderness (vv. 4-6) reminds us that on the same day as the human being God created for him an entire world in which he was to live, including domestic animals (Gen. 1:24-25; in the Hebrew text the matter is not simply "cattle" as animals, but "cattle" precisely as domestic animals, originally intended for the human being). These, obviously, are the very animals to which the human being later gives "names," that is, designations (vv. 19-20). And the story of the creation of woman, or more precisely of man and woman (vv. 21-25), only unfolds the meaning of the short phrase ("male and female He created them") that we find in the account of the creation of the world (Gen. 1:27). Before us is a description of a whole sequence of events that took place simultaneously or almost simultaneously, in biblical language, "in one day." And at the center of these events stands the human being (v. 7). Here, above all, what stands out is that the human being created by God is not distinguished by some special nature. In this respect the human being does not stand out at all; like everything else, he is created from dust. And "dust" in the Bible denotes the primary elements of which the universe consists (Prov. 8:26), so here the human being is not unique. His "soul" is not unique either; animals have the same "soul" (v. 19; compare Gen. 1:20-21; 9:4, 5, 10, 12, 15-16), which is not surprising, because the corresponding Hebrew word simply means "life," in the sense of the life principle or life force present in every living being. If "dust" connects the human being with all nature in general, then "soul" connects him with all living nature. The uniqueness of the human being as a creature made "in the image and likeness of God" (Gen. 1:24-25) lies in the "breath of life" given to him by God (v. 7). But this "breath" does not belong to the human being; it is not part of human nature. It is given to him while remaining at the same time something completely unlike his own nature. Strictly speaking, it is not nature at all, because it is from God, from the One who, having created all nature, is Himself not nature. In a certain sense, the human being was created from the very beginning as a "supernatural" being, that is, one who goes beyond the limits of nature. And only by going beyond its limits can he remain himself, as God intended him to be. The will that makes a person free and gives him the possibility of choosing; reason and the creative principle that raise him above natural instincts; and even simply self-awareness, which allows a person to say of himself, "I exist" - all these are gifts given by God to everyone who comes into the world. And this is the most wonderful gift: God gives the human being his humanity.

Let us try to set aside for a moment everything we already know. The world has only just been created, and before us is something completely new. We have read about how the Lord created this world. Gradually, day by day, He created fish, animals, and birds. And suddenly it turns out that one of His creatures is fundamentally different from the others. Now this is obvious to us. But try to look at it from the outside. At least remember the idea of human descent from apes. After all, it really does look as if the human being is one of the animals. And yet among the animals there is no one who could become a helper for the human being. For some reason it seems to me that when Adam named the animals, he was looking for someone like himself, while the Lord was watching to see what conclusion he would draw. And when Adam understood that in the created world he really was alone, then God gave him a gift by creating a partner for him. Why was a wife created separately precisely for the human being? It seems to me that here it is important to emphasize the uniqueness of the human being and his difference from animals, and also the uniqueness of man and woman and their difference from each other.

Hope in the Lord proves inseparable from trust in His wisdom, which immeasurably surpasses human wisdom, and from a sober understanding of the limitations of our own reason. Such an attitude toward reason involves neither excessive self-abasement nor a renunciation of the right to use our intellectual abilities: the human being remains the summit of Creation, made in the image and likeness of God, and reason is one of the Creator’s most important gifts; no one takes this away from us. Yet it is reason itself that helps us understand the precise moment when it encounters a task beyond its abilities, and then we can turn to the One who possesses greater wisdom.

The words “whom the Lord loves He chastens” may seem strange, but let us consider this: if God incomparably surpasses the human being and His deeds are unlike human deeds, can what human language calls punishment resemble the way people punish one another? What people perceive as punishment is in essence protection from evil, a warning against something worse, and in many cases the consequence of what we ourselves have done.