NOTES for Co2 5:15-21

What mean Paul's words about the necessity for the Christians to live "unto him which died for them and rose again" Christ? Sometimes they are understood as the necessity of remembering what the Savior did for us and what it cost Him, sometimes as the call to a certain mystic "participation" in His sufferings, explaining clearly moreover not always, what could be this mystic participation today and why it is necessary for Him. Of course, the memory is important, and the sufferings are inevitable. But indeed, the Savior came into the world not to be remembered as we often remember famous, long ago dead people, and of course not for us to suffer for Him. He knew perfectly of course that His followers will be persecuted and that they are going to suffer, but as we see, He gave no mystic meanings to these sufferings, considering them just as an inevitable consequence of the opposition of the Christians to this evil, in which is the fallen world. Another thing is important: to remember that the earthly way of the Savior does not end accidentally with death on the cross and the resurrection.

Also that if in His resurrection there isn’t of course our merit, then in His death on the cross each of us is guilty to a certain extent. And not because we participated in a mystic way in the events of two thousand years ago, but because we were all born and live in the world, where the righteous must die automatically. And if we do nothing to change these automatisms, we can consider ourselves accomplices in the death of all the righteous of all times and all peoples, including also the Messiah, Who also died the death of a Righteous innocent. And any attempt to change this automatism somehow or other brings to two things.

In the first place, it brings us inevitably to confrontation with this evil, in which lies the fallen world. And, suffering in this confrontation, we participate not mystically, but completely real in the sufferings of the Savior, and in the sufferings of all the righteous persecuted or killed for their righteousness, which is not only identical in all the times, but also one for all.

And, secondly, the attempt to change the automatism, if only we are coherent, sooner or later will bring us inevitably to the beginning of the Kingdom, the same that the Savior brought to the world at the price of His death. It would be because any righteousness has its foundation in the Kingdom, which is also one for all, and ends in particular there. And any life, joined to the Kingdom, any way, ending inside, will be the life for the Dead man and the Resuscitated, and the way leading to Him. In order to share His life that turned out (unexpected even for His closest followers) more than His death.

If life ends inevitably and definitively with death, why, properly, shouldn’t I be selfish? Not lot of time is given to me, and it is necessary to live this time in a way that it won’t be cruelly painful... From here ensues the famous trickster principle "you die today, and I shall die tomorrow". But if Christ died for all, if our death is overcome by His death, then everything changes.

I don’t have to grasp, snatch pieces of life from others, I can unite my life to the life of the One, Who died for me and resurrected, by trying to live as He lives, in order to cross together with Him through physical death to the Resurrection. And that will not be a life for itself, because He does not live for Himself, but for others sake, for those He loves, and thus - for Him. And it will be my real gratitude to the One, Who opened to me the way to everlasting life.

Already during almost two millenniums, the Christian theologians and the philosophers think and discuss about what new the Christianity brought in our world. Each pays attention on what is close to him, and the discussions have no end. Paul says: all things are now new, the old things have already passed away, pass away for ever. At first sight such an assertion can seem an exaggeration: where thus really pass away all the old things, if after two millenniums after the coming into the world of the Christ, everything, as it seems, continues to go its course? Of course, appeared in the world the Church, but historians usually see in it only another religious organization, formerly powerful, but now losing more and more its influence. It is something new; but for the rest, it would seem the world is the same, and the Church itself didn’t change it at all.

The very same wars (sometimes under Christian slogans), the very same fights for power (in the Christian world often accompanied by lofty words on the Church, on the purity of its faith, on its interests), the very same revolutions and coups. What then: the apostle simply took for world revolution the birth of one religion again? At first sight it can seem in particular so. But indeed, Paul speaks not at all about the religion. He speaks about this Kingdom that the Savior brought into the world. And he meant particularly the Kingdom, saying that now "all things are new".

Of course, if this Kingdom had entered the world once, at one time, would have been clear to each what says the apostle: because then the old order of things would change at once to a new, until would have changed qualitatively and been transformed the nature itself. But then in the Kingdom would have only been one inhabitant - the One who brought the Kingdom into the world: because except Him nobody else is ready to enter the Kingdom. That is why the Kingdom enters the world gradually, changing it from inside. And really "all things are new" in the Kingdom. And in the not transformed world everything goes the old way, it is impossible otherwise. And only in the end of time, after the total transfiguration of the creation, everyone will see clearly what Paul sees. Just like everyone else, who lives in the Kingdom here and now.

For almost two millennia Christian theologians and philosophers have reflected and argued about what new thing Christianity brought into our world. Each one notices something close to himself, and the disputes have no end in sight. Paul says: now everything is new, and the former things have already passed away, passed away irrevocably. At first glance such a statement can appear exaggerated: where, in fact, did all the former things go, if even two thousand years after the coming of Christ into the world everything appears to keep going in its usual course?

Of course, the Church appeared in the world, but historians usually see in it only one more religious organization, once powerful and now losing more and more of its influence. This is something new; but in every other respect the world would appear to be the same, and even the Church itself has not changed it in the least. The same wars, sometimes under Christian slogans, the same struggle for power, in the Christian world often accompanied by lofty words about the Church, the purity of its faith, and its interests, the same revolutions and coups. So what then: did the apostle mistake the birth of one more religion for a worldwide upheaval? At first glance it can appear that way.

But Paul is not speaking about religion at all. He is speaking about the Kingdom that the Savior brought into the world. It is precisely the Kingdom he has in mind when he says that now 'everything is new.' Of course, if this Kingdom had entered the world all at once, in a single instant, everyone would have understood what the apostle is saying: then the former order of things would at once have been replaced by a new one, even to the point that nature itself would have changed qualitatively and been transfigured.

But then the Kingdom would have had only one inhabitant: the One who brought the Kingdom into the world. Apart from Him, no one is ready to enter the Kingdom. That is why the Kingdom enters the world gradually, changing it from within. And in the Kingdom, truly, 'everything is new.' In the untransfigured world everything goes on in the old way; it cannot be otherwise. Only at the end of time, after the complete transfiguration of creation, will everyone clearly see what Paul sees, as does everyone else who lives in the Kingdom already here and now.

What distinguishes the biblical meaning of the word "peace" from the universally accepted? In our daily language we understand it rather in a common way, as the opposite of war or the lack of dissensions.

This word "shalom" is much more voluminous - it is a state of harmony and balance, order and beauty. Such is the state of the relationship inside the Trinity, such was the state of the universe in the seventh day of the Creation, such become our relationships with God in Jesus Christ, - "for He is our peace" (Eph. 2:14). And besides, we are capable of spreading these relationships on other people, because is given to us the word and the ministry of reconciliation.

What distinguishes the biblical meaning of the word "peace" from the universally accepted? In our daily language we understand it rather in a common way, as the opposite of war or the lack of dissensions.

This word "shalom" is much more voluminous - it is a state of harmony and balance, order and beauty. Such is the state of the relationship inside the Trinity, such was the state of the universe in the seventh day of the Creation, such become our relationships with God in Jesus Christ, - "for He is our peace" (Eph. 2:14). And besides, we are capable of spreading these relationships on other people, because is given to us the word and the ministry of reconciliation.

It is clear to Paul that the Kingdom and remaining in it are inseparable from the relationships that bind each of His followers to Christ, but those relationships themselves are possible only when a person remains in Christ to the end and completely as a poor one - in the spiritual sense of the word in which the prophet Isaiah of Jerusalem had already spoken of poverty. And in this sense of the word, poverty carried through to the end is nothing other than becoming nothing, even to the point of physical death, if such death is required for witness. And for the Messiah, it means going as far as complete, unreserved, and unconditional immersion in the sinful life of the fallen world, into whose depth He had to bring the fullness of the Kingdom that was contained in Him.

And the evil of the sinful world really does take the Messiah Himself captive: it cannot penetrate the depth of His heart or His human nature, free from the power of sin, but it was able to bring Him to the cross. The One who knew no sin came under the power of sin, became sin for our sake - this is how Paul describes it. Such is the Messiah's poverty carried through to the end, a poverty without which the Kingdom would not have entered the world, because the Messiah Himself could not have entered the world in any other way than as a poor one.

And this is understandable: any other kind of entry would have meant submission to the laws of the world that lies in evil. Not to submit to them meant to leave the world; but to leave the world and at the same time remain in it means to die. Such a path for the Messiah, bearing within Himself all God's fullness, all the fullness of the Kingdom, could end on earth only with the cross. And with the resurrection, of course, too - but that is already the reality of the Kingdom, not of the fallen world. The Kingdom to which the fallen world can belong only to the extent that, being transformed, it ceases to be fallen.

And we Christians become participants in this process, as the apostle reminds us. If we are alive and remain in this world, it is only insofar as the world itself has already ceased to be fallen, insofar as it has already managed to be transformed and become part of the Kingdom. If the Kingdom were not in the world, nothing would remain for us but to die. Or to live as the righteous lived while awaiting the Kingdom in pre-Christian times. If, of course, we are Christians not only in name.

Continuing the discussion of the Kingdom, Paul draws attention to what is in fact the foundation of Christianity: Christians are those who live one life with the risen Christ, the life of the Kingdom that He brought into the world. They become a "new creation," being renewed by the breath of God that permeates this Kingdom (v. 17). Therefore it is pointless to approach witnesses of the Kingdom by the usual human measure, because what they say expresses not their own assessments of what is happening or their attitude toward it, but God's view of the situation, which the witnesses simply convey to those to whom they preach. And if the assessments at times prove severe, this is only an objective given, not the ill will of a witness who, on his own initiative, would never resort to such severity (v. 13).

The proof of a witness's sincerity can only be his openness both to God and to people (vv. 11-12), an openness without which no witness to the Kingdom is possible. When it comes to witness, the witness, more than anyone else, is guided by the spiritually understood principle of "nothing personal." All human sympathies and antipathies move into the background, since they are conditioned mainly by the limitation of fallen human nature and have nothing to do with the Kingdom. A Christian no longer lives his own natural life; he lives the life of the Risen One, for which these sympathies and antipathies mean nothing (vv. 14-15). Even the attitude toward the Savior Himself ceases in such a case to be purely human, as it necessarily was, for example, for the apostles who associated with Jesus during His earthly ministry (v. 16). The only goal of witness is the salvation of each person, his reconciliation with God through Christ, and his receiving in Christ the Kingdom that the Savior opens to everyone who seeks and is ready to trust Him (vv. 18-21).

At the end of today's reading there are words saying that the love of Christ embraces us. The apostle explains why this happens, and what is required of us in order to be embraced by Christ's love. His thought is expressed in our Russian Synodal translation with less than full clarity. It says here: "the love of Christ embraces us, reasoning thus: if One died for all..." In the original, however, the apostle Paul writes: the love of Christ holds us, κρίναντας τούτο, having understood that One died for all. The Slavonic text at this point says: "we who have judged this," and it uses a simple past form, not the present tense used in the Synodal translation. Blessed Jerome of Stridon, translating this text into Latin, emphasizes this aspect even more: in the Vulgate these words read, "nos aestimantes hoc..." This verb means "to evaluate," like the English word "to estimate" derived from it.

So this is what is being said: the love of Christ embraces us and fills our whole life when we estimate the greatness of His sacrifice, when we understand and realize that in Him all of us truly died. More than that, it is important to realize this as an accomplished fact. Not to speculate, searching for meaning in a religious phenomenon, but to judge, to understand that this has already happened and, as a historical fact, has direct relevance to us. Only in this way can one receive this love, without which life loses its support.