NOTES for Luk 17:3-4

How many times should you forgive a person who has done you harm? How far must mercy and forgiveness extend? In other words, what measure of forgiveness will be sufficient? For people formed by the law, this question looks natural, and so the disciples ask it of Christ. The evangelist Matthew in chapter 18 reports a similar question from Peter; the evangelist Luke in today's reading also transmits Christ's words about forgiving seven times, without mentioning the question.

To understand what the Lord says, it is important to keep in mind that "seven" is a number symbolizing every fullness, and this was well known to Christ's disciples. In essence, the Lord rejects the Jewish idea of a "measure" of forgiveness. Forgiveness, mercy, and compassion toward people, including those who do us harm, can never be sufficient. We have no possibility of ceasing to forgive on the grounds that we have already done so a certain number of times. This is what today's words of Christ are about: "if he sins seven times in a day... and seven times turns back... forgive him." This is what Matthew's words, "not... up to seven, but up to seventy times seven," are about. This is what the commandment to love enemies is about. Relationships between people are not built on weighing debts and forgiveness. The Gospel as a whole considers forgiveness of people our duty, but not before people; before God. That is the whole point.

The Lord speaks about this many times. The clearest illustration is His parable of the unmerciful creditor, which He told in response to Peter's question about how many times to forgive. In practice this is very important, because fulfilling Christ's words about repeated and constant forgiveness is hard. Moreover, as the Lord Himself says, "with men this is impossible." But if we forgive not by our own human strength, not because we have to grit our teeth and fulfill the commandment, but for the sake of faithfulness to God, regardless of those whom we forgive, then this becomes for us an encounter with God Himself.

The evangelist Luke transmits an important word of Christ about this, one very difficult to translate. Before the commandment to forgive always and repeatedly, the Lord says to the disciples: "Take heed to yourselves" (such is the Synodal translation). The Slavonic text offers the version "Attend to yourselves," and the Vulgate renders the expression with the words "adtendite vobis." The Greek prosehete heautois includes two main shades of meaning. This expression chiefly means "watch yourselves, pay attention to yourselves." It is a call to reflection, to analysis of one's actions, decisions, and experiences. The Lord calls the disciples to look into themselves so that forgiveness will not be for them a calculated payment for people's actions, but an encounter with God acting in their lives.

But the Greek expression cited by the evangelist also has another shade of meaning, one not missed by blessed Jerome and noticeable in translations that follow the Vulgate. One can try to render this shade with the words "Hold firm, make an effort, gather yourselves." "Brace yourselves" - that is very important. The forgiveness of which the Lord speaks is not a "state of soul" in which forgiveness happens "by itself." It is labor that requires collectedness and effort. When Christians say that the Church is the army of Christ, forgiveness is the front line of the battle in which this army is called to take part. And it is important for us to watch ourselves and remember that forgiveness is not a payment we bring to people and not a sacrifice to God; it is a miracle that God works in us.

How many times is it necessary to forgive anybody doing us evil? What is the limits mercy and forgiveness can extend to? In other words, what measure for forgiveness will be enough? This question looks natural to people educated according to the law, that's why the followers give this question to Jesus. The Evangelist Matthew speaks in the 18th chapter of a similar question laid by Peter; evangelist Luke also delivers in today's reading the words of Jesus concerning sevenfold of forgiveness, not mentioning the question in Matthew. It is important to know that "seven" is a figure symbolizing any kind of plenitude in order to better understand what the Lord says, , and the followers of Jesus knew it very well.

The Lord rejects in essence the Jewish conception of the "measure" for forgiveness. Forgiveness, mercy, care to people (including those who hurt us), can never be sufficient. We have no possibility to stop forgiving under pretext that we have already made it many times. Jesus’ words tell us about it today "if trespasses seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again…, forgive". The words given by Matthew also testify about this “not… until seven times, but until seventy times seven”. In this, consists the precept of love towards enemies. Relationship between people does not build itself through the weighing of duties and forgivenesses. The Gospel considers in general the forgiveness of people as our duty, not towards people, but rather towards God - all the question is herein.

The Lord speaks very often about this. The most brilliant illustration can be His parable concerning the unmerciful lender, which He gave in answer to Peter's question to know how many times we should forgive. This is very important in the practical life, because it is difficult to accomplish Jesus’ words about the multiple and permanent forgivenesses. Besides, as the Lord Himself says “it is impossible for man”. Nevertheless if we forgive not with our own strength, not because it is necessary, to accomplish the commandments “clenching teeth”, and for our loyalty to God - independently of the one that we forgive, then it becomes for us a meeting with God Himself.

 Evangelist Luke passes on important but very difficult for translation words of Jesus concerning this. Before the precept to always forgive, the Lord tells his followers many times "take heed to yourselves" (it is the King James Version translation). The New American Standard Bible says “Be on your guard”, and the Vulgate gives “adtendite vobis”. Greek “prosehete heautois” contains two big nuances. This expression mainly means: “look after yourself, pay attention to yourself ". It is an appeal to reflection, to the analysis of our own acts, our own decisions and feelings. The Lord calls His followers to “fathom” themselves, so that forgiveness will not be for them a measured payment for people’s behaviors, but rather a meeting with God, acting in our life.

But this Greek expression quoted by evangelist has another nuance, not evading from Beatus Hieronymus and noticeable in translations following the Vulgate. We can try to communicate this nuance by the words “hold on, make efforts, get together". "Try hard" - here is what's really very important. Forgiveness that the Lord speaks about here is not a "state of the soul", as when we forgive ourselves. It is a work that requires concentration and efforts. When Christians say that the Church is Christ's army, it is exactly forgiveness which is the forward edge of the battle, where should participate this army. It is important that we pay attention to ourselves and always remember that forgiveness is not a payment that we bring to people, nor a sacrifice to God - forgiveness is a miracle that God accomplishes in us.

Speaking about relationships within the community, the Savior calls for complete sincerity and for not concealing hurts and misunderstandings when they exist. Indeed, rules of politeness are good only so long as there is no need to build serious and deep relationships with those who are nearby.

One can ignore hurts and misunderstandings where relationships are purely functional: after all, if the issue is only coworkers, all communication can be limited to the workplace, and for the sake of the work it is perhaps truly better not to dig deeply into relationships. Of course, in that case sin does not cease to be sin, and more than that, it does not cease to poison the relationship between the two people, one of whom offends and the other takes offense. But it may not affect their functioning, though usually only for a time. A community is another matter: here the issue is a shared path to God, and all relationships here are absolutely important because they will have to be taken along on that path.

If there are any half-spoken matters here, unspoken hurts, or sin burdening relationships, all of this will have to be resolved, or else one will have to come to God with one's sins and hurts. But there, with God, in the Kingdom, there is no place for sin or resentment. Therefore all this must be dealt with on the way. And in such a way that the road, already difficult enough, does not become unbearable. It certainly will become so if people pretend that there are no problems, as sometimes happens when people try to be guided in spiritual life by various schemes and rules of "ideal" behavior, usually of religious origin.

Then they usually try to see both themselves and others not as they are, but as they ought to be according to an invented ideal, and they behave accordingly, interacting not with real people but with imagined ones. That is when people usually try to hush up problems: ideal people are not supposed to have them. "Real Christians" are not supposed to take offense, so "among us" there can be no grievances. But in reality both grievances and misunderstandings are of course present; in the fallen world there is no way without them, and they do their work, destroying real relationships between real people.

It is so that nothing like this may happen that the Savior advises calling things by their names: grievance a grievance, misunderstanding a misunderstanding, and saying everything directly, as it is. Then it becomes possible to deal with the real problems that, if left to themselves, can destroy the community. And the possibility of forgiveness appears then as well: for in order to forgive, one must understand who is guilty before you and in what, just as one can ask forgiveness only when one understands in what one is guilty before others. It is better to make problems visible and solve them than to let them destroy everything.

Today we read the evangelist Luke's account of a somewhat mysterious dialogue about faith between the Lord and His disciples. At first glance, Christ's answer is hard to connect with the disciples' request that He increase their faith. Perhaps, as the evangelists often do, Luke reports Christ's words much more fully than the essence of the disciples' question. In such a situation, we should try to understand from what the Lord answers what the disciples had in mind. In addition, the evangelists often tell us about dialogues in which a person coming to Christ asks Him a question, while the Lord intentionally answers not the outward form of the question spoken aloud, but what deep in the heart moved the person to ask it. It is very possible that today we are seeing just such a dialogue.

So the disciples ask Him to "add" faith to them. The "increase" of the Synodal text renders a Greek word that, in an arithmetic sense, means addition rather than multiplication. So to speak, they ask Him to increase the quantity of faith, to give them more of it than they and other people have. Judging by Christ's answer, the disciples' request sounds like a request to sit at His right and left hand. The Lord says that the "quantity" of faith is not what matters. Even a small "quantity," faith the size of a mustard seed, in the Savior's words, transforms the world.

After this the Lord tells the disciples that a person should not expect a reward for doing what he is obliged to do. How does this thought agree with the previous one? Most likely the point is that the disciples, who have already grasped what the Lord says about the importance of faith for a person's salvation, are asking Him to give them faith that would "advantageously distinguish" them in God's eyes.

They have already understood that God needs not outward reverence, but faith. "See, we have left everything and followed You," Peter once said to Christ... Now the disciples, it appears, are asking Him to give them such faith that they could say: "See, we have great faith; what then will there be for us because of this?" It is precisely to such a question that the Lord answers with the words that faith capable of moving mountains is comparable to fulfilling one's duty before the Master and does not allow one to speak of merits. This is, of course, a very important revelation about God and the human person, especially if it is compared with the parable of the workers of the eleventh hour.

"...we are unworthy servants, because we have done what we ought to have done..." These words can offend us. We can say to the Lord, But You Yourself told us: I no longer call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I heard from My Father (John 15:15). But there is a difference: in one case He does not call us servants, and in the other He calls us to call ourselves servants. And what is the difference, if I am simply "no longer a slave, but a son" (Gal. 4:7)? This is a question on which lovers of objective materialism or opponents of subjective idealism keep banging their heads every time. Suppose there is a party decision according to which I am no longer a Pioneer but a Komsomol member, and no one is allowed to say to me, "Be ready!" but only and exclusively, "The party has said: it is necessary." In reality, everything is not like that at all, and there is no univocal answer; the world is richer and wider than our words and concepts. The Lord gives certain markers of meaning that we must hold to, but the path between them is our personal creativity. There are moments of tenderness and moments of severity. And everything is filled with meaning if there is love. Therefore no single phrase taken by itself from the Gospel has the divine authority that the Gospel possesses in its wholeness. But besides this, it is important to understand the more prosaic meaning of today's words of the Lord: a slave, when set free, often does not learn freedom, but enslaves those who gave him that freedom. It is not enough to be a former slave in order to become a son. There is still a long path between these two concepts. And each of us must walk this long path. The whole Gospel has not been spoken once for all, but is still being spoken; it has not been completed, but is still being carried out. "Christianity is only beginning," as one contemporary holy martyr said.

The paradoxical nature of God's Kingdom penetrates the most hidden areas of human life. Today, at the center of the paradox is faith. This may be the most difficult word in human language, because we almost always use it for the wrong purpose. For example, when the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith, it turns out that they are asking for the wrong thing. They could move mountains even with an insignificantly small faith (a "mustard seed" is clearly something very small). But what could be more important? After all, Christ says many times to different people, "Your faith has saved you." This also happens with the healed Samaritan leper: the miracle of healing itself happens to all ten, but "faith saved" only him. And what kind of faith could this heretic have? The others went to show themselves to the priests, which was exactly what their faith required. In both cases, by "faith" Christ clearly means not quite what the disciples mean by it, or what you and I usually mean.

As the Savior's words show, the question of faith is directly connected with the question of spiritual life as such. What does it mean to increase faith? How did the disciples themselves understand an increase in faith? They must have meant something connected with the confidence they experienced when, at their Teacher's command, they preached the Kingdom and joyfully saw that not only people, but also spirits obeyed them. In those days, this sense of power was usually associated with faith, with its presence or absence. Jesus, however, is speaking of something somewhat different. He speaks of faith as a spiritual state. Precisely and only a spiritual one. After all, any manifestation of inner strength in a person is a natural phenomenon as much as a spiritual one. Here there is not only the spiritual impulse as such, not intention alone, but also nature and the psyche, which also respond to spiritual influence. But Jesus speaks only of the spirit. Only of the will. Only of intention.

Spirit is not nature. Quantitative measurements are impossible here. Spirit, or will, does not come in larger or smaller amounts. If the will is not fragmented, if it is not scattered through inner, psychological space or outer, physical space, it has absolute force. Not in the whole universe created by God, of course; only the will of the Creator Himself has that kind of power. But at one concrete point, it certainly does. That is why faith the size of a mustard seed is enough to move a mountain from its place. Faith here is not inner strength, and certainly not conviction about anything at all, but the fullness of relationship with God. It is that same fullness which, when directed toward creation, becomes the source of an infinitely powerful force, if only it is fully concentrated on something specific. But reaching that kind of concentration is not easy. No psychological techniques will help here.

This concentration is a derivative of that fullness of the life of the Kingdom which, in principle, has been opened after Christ's coming to everyone who seeks. It is the same fullness whose experience lets a person serve without counting merit: we have done what we were supposed to do; we are only servants who do not deserve a reward. It is the fullness in which one understands that every sin is absolutely destructive, and that, although sin is inevitable in the fallen world, complicity in it is always an existential catastrophe for a resident of the Kingdom. It is the fullness that is possible only in the Kingdom and without which there is no Kingdom. The fullness for which alone it makes sense to live.

Jesus' words about occasions of stumbling are often split into two parts, and only the first is used: the part that says that such occasions inevitably exist in this world. Why exhaust ourselves and try to live by the law of love if these occasions of stumbling will catch up with us anyway? Taking this reasoning to its logical conclusion, some say that there is no reason to regard Judas' act as terrible if the Messiah would have been betrayed in any case. In a sense, this turns Christianity into fatalism: the advent of evil is predetermined, so why hate the fruits of evil in the world and try to renounce them? But what Jesus offers us contains no predetermination: occasions of stumbling will come, sin is present in the world, evil exists and acts, but this is no reason to become a conduit of evil and a source of stumbling ourselves.