NOTES for Mar 4:21-41

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.

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.

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.

These famous words of Jesus Christ in the context of the parable of the lamp virtually coincide with the Gospels of Marc and Luc (in Luke 8:18" shall be taken even that which he seemeth to have. ") These words are pronounced after the words: "If any man has ears to hear, let him hear! Take heed what ye hear "(Luke 8:18 "So take care how you listen…”). And although these same words are used in the Gospel of Matthew in a different context - as answer to the question of the followers: “why do you speak to them in parables”? ", - this only helps to understand the meaning of these words.

It is doubtless here a matter of giving heed in our heart to God’s words and about their preservation in our minds, about having them in our memory. It is effectively by such words that evangelist Luke characterize the relation of the Mother of Jesus to God’s will and activities. She" treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). It is necessary to have firstly in heart all, that God says; otherwise everything will be vain - all the words of the Divine commandments will volatilize, they will have no effect on our deeds, and will bring no fruit to us: everything “shall be taken away”.

These famous words of Jesus Christ in the context of the parable of the lamp virtually coincide with the Gospels of Marc and Luc (in Luke 8:18" shall be taken even that which he seemeth to have. ") These words are pronounced after the words: "If any man has ears to hear, let him hear! Take heed what ye hear "(Luke 8:18 "So take care how you listen…”). And although these same words are used in the Gospel of Matthew in a different context - as answer to the question of the followers: “why do you speak to them in parables”? ", - this only helps to understand the meaning of these words.

It is doubtless here a matter of giving heed in our heart to God’s words and about their preservation in our minds, about having them in our memory. It is effectively by such words that evangelist Luke characterize the relation of the Mother of Jesus to God’s will and activities. She" treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). It is necessary to have firstly in heart all, that God says; otherwise everything will be vain - all the words of the Divine commandments will volatilize, they will have no effect on our deeds, and will bring no fruit to us: everything “shall be taken away”.

The Savior's words about the Kingdom sometimes appear contradictory. Sometimes He speaks of the Kingdom as a reality of universal, cosmic scale, and sometimes as something almost unnoticed, something that grows in silence and darkness, like a seed in the ground.

Meanwhile, in reality there is no contradiction here. The Kingdom truly is a reality on a universal scale. It even exceeds our universe: after all, we live in a fallen world, and the Kingdom is much greater than it is; the Kingdom includes it within itself, transforming it and making it part of another, new reality. At the same time, the Kingdom does not simply descend into our world from somewhere in heaven; it grows from within our fallen world. Of course, by itself, out of nowhere, it will not grow: the Kingdom is a precious flower, and as everyone knows, only weeds grow well and quickly all by themselves.

Hence the need to sow the proper seeds and care for them; otherwise there will be nothing. The point, however, is not only that the seed needs time to sprout. The point is also that the seeds of the Kingdom grow in human hearts, and this constitutes the main hope while at the same time being the main problem. When we speak of the Kingdom growing from seeds cast into the soil of our world, it is important to remember that we ourselves are the soil. It is in us that the seed of the Kingdom cast by God can either sprout or rot. Here begins the very thing that ultimately determines the timing of the final triumph of the Kingdom.

We live in the age of the approaching Kingdom, but when it finally arrives and is revealed in all its fullness depends precisely on us. The date of Christ's return in glory, His second coming, is known only to the Father not because the Father is hiding something from the Son, but because it has not yet been determined and perhaps cannot be determined exactly: it depends on the choice of each of us, and therefore it is bound to change constantly, changing with every choice that is made.

This slows the matter greatly, but only in this way can each person be given the opportunity to take part in the process of the Kingdom's entry into the world. Human participation is necessary here because otherwise that person will not be able to enter the Kingdom. At best he will then be able to share in its life, but he will not be able to change so that the life of the Kingdom also becomes his own life; and then all efforts will be useless, for in the Kingdom the main thing is the people of whom it consists.

In the story of Jesus calming the sudden storm, the most interesting thing is the dialogue between the Teacher and the disciples. He reproaches them for their little faith, and they, struck by what has happened, try to understand: who is He, that He has authority even over the elements? As we can see, the evangelist emphasizes precisely this, there is no other word for it, misunderstanding between Jesus and the apostles. And the point is not that the disciples cannot understand Who is before them. The point is that they are unable to concentrate their spiritual attention on what is necessary for an adequate understanding of the situation. In their souls there still lives the fear of imminent death they experienced during the storm, overlaid by a mystical, almost superstitious dread before the power their Teacher possesses. But He wants to turn their spiritual gaze from the outer to the inner, from effects to the meaning of what is happening. That is why He speaks to them about faith, about trust, without which there is no Kingdom, whether trust in God, in Christ, or in one's neighbor.

If the disciples had had enough trust and inner wholeness, without which, as without trust, there can be no talk of faith, the storm would have subsided according to their faith, without Jesus' intervention. But the point is that, as we see, the apostles do not yet have this inner wholeness. They have enough faith to follow the Teacher, but not enough to remain in the spiritual space of the Kingdom. In that very spiritual space where there is no place for a storm, where the elements are completely subject to the human will: the will not only of the Messiah, but of every person living the life of the Kingdom. If the disciples had been rooted in the Kingdom, they would not have had to wake the Teacher; the storm would have subsided at the command of any one of them, or perhaps it would not have begun at all.

Of course, in the Kingdom the relationship between Christ and each of His disciples remains no less close than in the untransformed world. There it even proves still deeper, more conscious, more intense than in this world. But Christ does not need to pull a person rooted in the Kingdom by the hand out of every difficult situation, if only because in the life of a person rooted in the Kingdom there are no accidental difficult situations. As we can see, this is exactly the thought Jesus is trying to convey to His disciples.

But their attention is wholly absorbed by the extraordinary power their Teacher has revealed. This is no surprise: power always attracts more attention than the Kingdom. And to learn to see the Kingdom, the breath of the Kingdom must touch a person and change his heart. That is what happened to the apostles on the day of Pentecost.

Jesus' calming of the storm undoubtedly made an indelible impression on the disciples. None of Israel's great prophets could do such a thing: they, of course, also sometimes worked miracles, or rather, God sometimes performed miracles through their prayer, but no one had ever managed to calm a raging lake with one word. Of course, God's power, acting through Jesus in all its fullness, could do anything at all: God is the complete and sovereign Master of His world. Here, however, it was not simply God's power at work; here the breath of the Kingdom was blowing, which was especially important and relevant.

Indeed, humanity has encountered manifestations of God's power from the very beginning of its existence, and the fall did not change anything here in principle: God is God, and after the fall He remains God; His action is still the same as it has always been. It is another matter that after the fall a person perceives the action of God's power differently, often not even understanding what kind of power it is or where it came from. God's power by itself does not always change a person, and even more, it does not always change him radically. For radical change, the conscious participation of the person himself is needed in the process, first of all the participation of his will, and such participation for a fallen person often proves to be, if solvable at all, a very difficult task. That is why miracles in every age have been relatively infrequent in the fallen world.

It would be more accurate to say that few people saw them: one can see a miracle only when the heart is open to God, when God's great world is a reality for a person and he lives precisely in that world, and not in the little fallen world of the human being separated from God's world. Before the coming of Christ this little fallen world, which sometimes appears large to us, was completely isolated from God's great world, which is called the Kingdom. In those times miracles existed only for those for whom God and His presence in the world were an unquestionable and absolute reality.

Now, with Christ's coming, the situation has changed. His coming broke the barrier, destroyed the separation of our fallen world from the Kingdom that had existed before. Now a miracle has become an objective reality, and everyone sees the calming of the storm, regardless of their condition and their attitude toward God and toward Christ. The Kingdom, its power, and its breath have become part of our world. Outwardly nothing special happened, but in reality everything changed.

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.