NOTES for Act 13:13-25; Joh 13:16-20

What is Christianity? Where are its boundaries? For many people today Christianity is associated with followers of Christ who identify themselves as such, and with the church, or more precisely with the many churches that exist in the modern world. Someone will remember the Church with a capital letter, that body of Christ of which the apostle Paul spoke. Yet Jesus Himself never said that He would limit His communion only to His followers. Only to Christians. Strictly speaking, He did not leave any Christians in the world; He left a small community of His disciples, which later grew.

Then, after some time, a small group of these same disciples called themselves "Christians," or in modern language, "messianists." Later all the disciples of Christ adopted this self-designation. But He Himself did not speak about any "Christians." He spoke about His followers, about those who have some kind of relationship with Him. Precisely some kind, even if minimal. Mediated. Even if only through those whose relationship with Him is more conscious and responsible.

Here, of course, the measure of fullness can vary. There are disciples and followers who are closer; there is the closest circle of disciples, the apostles; and even among the apostles there are people especially close to Him. There are those who know Him personally, more or less, better or worse. There are also those who are not personally acquainted with Him, but whom He knows.

He knows them at least, for example, because some of these people are connected with someone among His direct disciples. Connected by friendship, cooperation, a service once rendered, or help given. The Kingdom, after all, the one He brought into the world, is first of all relationships. Ideally, personal relationships with Him Himself as the King of this Kingdom, but at the beginning, at least with one of His disciples. A chain of relationships can indirectly connect a person with the Kingdom and with its King.

Such relationships are not yet everything, but they can become the beginning of a path. If a person is consistent, sooner or later a moment will come in his life when he will need not simply to touch the Kingdom and its life, but also to become acquainted with the King who rules this Kingdom.

Everything, however, has its time. One thing is important: no contact with the Kingdom, direct or indirect, passes without a trace. Each one is a chance that, if used rightly, can become a chance for salvation.

Today's Gospel passage can serve as a beautiful illustration of what the Church is, what a community of believers in Christ is. At its center is its Head - Christ Himself. Beside Him the apostles labor - the foundation of the future hierarchy of the Church. They help people by easing and ordering the transmission of God's gift to everyone in need. And nowhere is it said that they also eat; they must also have taken part in this meal, but first of all they are here for service - to help both Christ and the people. And there are thousands of people around Him, all of them hungry in one way or another, all of them needing something from Him.

Of course, Christ can satisfy their hunger "out of nothing." He, God who created heaven and earth, has absolutely no need of our loaves and fish, for He has more of them than we do. And yet He uses them in order to give us what we so deeply desire. He takes what each of us has, and thanks to Him it turns out that our common wealth is far greater than simply everything taken together. God is always ready to work a miracle for us, but we are not always ready to receive it. And He waits for our first step from us - even if it is small, still participation in the work of our salvation: consent.

What, after all, was John the Baptist's mission? To remind the Jewish people about the Messiah? But messianic expectations in those days in Judea, and in Palestine generally, were extremely intense, so intense that from time to time messianic uprisings flared up here and there, led by yet another claimant to messiahship.

One might say: to prepare the people for the appearance of the Messiah. Yes, but in what sense? To remind them of the commandments, of the norms and rules of spiritual life? The leaders of the Pharisaic movement handled this quite well, as even Jesus Himself acknowledged when He advised people to do everything the Pharisaic teachers counseled. The main meaning of John's preaching was, as is evident, elsewhere, although of course he, like every true prophet, never tired of reminding people of the need to keep the commandments. Yet the center of his preaching was still the call to conversion. Of course, here too there would have been nothing new or original in John's words if they had been addressed to pagans.

But they were not addressed to pagans at all, but to the Jews themselves. And not to apostates who had forgotten the God of their fathers, but to believing and deeply religious people. John understood what the Pharisees who came to him to perform the washing to which the prophet called them could not and would not believe: it was revealed to him that there were none ready to meet and receive the Messiah worthily, not even among the people of God. Even a deeply religious person needed, in essence, a new conversion for this, for at the threshold of the Kingdom, according to John himself, the Messiah would meet him and wash him "with the Spirit of God and fire."

What was revealed to the prophet was what even the apostles did not understand at once: in the Kingdom everything begins anew, from a clean page. And this page must not be stained. But the Pharisees, deeply religious people who therefore strictly observed all norms and rules of ritual purity, were perplexed: why does this strange prophet call everyone to washing? They, for example, were not pagans and had committed no such sins after which they would need to perform purification rituals.

Some of them, to be on the safe side, did perform the washing to which John called them, but they still did not understand the meaning of what was happening, provoking the prophet's angry rebuke accusing them of hypocrisy. Thus, even before Christ came into the world, the boundary dividing religion and the Kingdom was marked out, the boundary that would later make many Pharisees hate the One who brought the Kingdom into the world. The boundary that marked the path to the cross.

What is Christianity? Where are its boundaries? For many people today Christianity is associated with followers of Christ who identify themselves as such, and with the church, or more precisely with the many churches that exist in the modern world. Someone will remember the Church with a capital letter, that body of Christ of which the apostle Paul spoke. Yet Jesus Himself never said that He would limit His communion only to His followers. Only to Christians. Strictly speaking, He did not leave any Christians in the world; He left a small community of His disciples, which later grew.

Then, after some time, a small group of these same disciples called themselves "Christians," or in modern language, "messianists." Later all the disciples of Christ adopted this self-designation. But He Himself did not speak about any "Christians." He spoke about His followers, about those who have some kind of relationship with Him. Precisely some kind, even if minimal. Mediated. Even if only through those whose relationship with Him is more conscious and responsible.

Here, of course, the measure of fullness can vary. There are disciples and followers who are closer; there is the closest circle of disciples, the apostles; and even among the apostles there are people especially close to Him. There are those who know Him personally, more or less, better or worse. There are also those who are not personally acquainted with Him, but whom He knows.

He knows them at least, for example, because some of these people are connected with someone among His direct disciples. Connected by friendship, cooperation, a service once rendered, or help given. The Kingdom, after all, the one He brought into the world, is first of all relationships. Ideally, personal relationships with Him Himself as the King of this Kingdom, but at the beginning, at least with one of His disciples. A chain of relationships can indirectly connect a person with the Kingdom and with its King.

Such relationships are not yet everything, but they can become the beginning of a path. If a person is consistent, sooner or later a moment will come in his life when he will need not simply to touch the Kingdom and its life, but also to become acquainted with the King who rules this Kingdom.

Everything, however, has its time. One thing is important: no contact with the Kingdom, direct or indirect, passes without a trace. Each one is a chance that, if used rightly, can become a chance for salvation.

At first glance, what is happening here is the birth of a new religion: the Christian proclamation, not accepted by its mother environment, the Jews, goes beyond it and turns to the Gentiles. Formally, this is indeed so, but the preachers themselves, led by Paul, plainly do not think so (and this is clear from his preaching).

The point, perhaps, is that Christianity (not as a religion, but as a new experience of life with God) first touched those who were seeking not a religious system, but true, eternal life; those who were seeking Christ and finally received His presence in the Spirit. This directly concerns us as well: those who have not yet made up their minds and those who have long considered themselves Christians.

Today's reading gives us an opportunity to understand the meaning of what the New Testament calls salvation. Before us is Paul's preaching in one of the synagogues of Antioch (vv. 16–41), which evidently met with great success, especially among the Gentiles (v. 42). At first this interest seems inexplicable: Paul is essentially only recounting to his listeners what was already more or less known about the Savior's earthly ministry, at least in Jewish circles. Some reports of the events in Jerusalem must undoubtedly also have reached Gentiles close to the Synagogue (vv. 23–37). He does, of course, preface his account with a brief survey of sacred history (vv. 17–22), but that too could hardly have been news to anyone even slightly familiar with the Synagogue's life and tradition. Yet the sermon itself contains the key to understanding the Gentiles' interest: Paul says directly that sins for which there is no justification under the law given to Moses can be forgiven in the name of Jesus Christ (vv. 38–39). To understand this, it is important to remember that, according to the Torah—the Law of Moses—not every sin could be forgiven, but only one committed involuntarily, through weakness or ignorance. It was possible to be cleansed of the consequences of such a sin, so that, having repented and asked God to forgive what he had done, the involuntary sinner could hope that from then on he was free both of the sin itself and of everything it might entail. But one could not be cleansed of a sin committed consciously and voluntarily. One could repent of what one had done, ask God's forgiveness, and even receive it, but in that case it was impossible to be cleansed of the sin, to be freed from its consequences. Now, however, it turned out that any sin could be forgiven, even one that had not been forgiven before. It is no wonder this particularly interested the Gentiles: they knew their own lives well and understood perfectly that, from the Torah's standpoint, cleansing from sin was virtually impossible for them. This is not about some sort of indiscriminate forgiveness or indulgence of sin. On the contrary, it is precisely in the light of the Kingdom that the sin of everyone approaching it becomes clearer than ever. The point is that those entering the Kingdom have a chance to begin everything anew. With a clean page. And to write their new life on that page—a life that will become part of the Kingdom. And a path to salvation.

The other name of the false prophet Elymas, who prevented Barnabas and Saul from preaching Christ to the Roman proconsul, is symbolic: Bar-Jesus, literally “son of Jesus.” It is as though the name itself expresses the sorcerer's claim to displace Christ, if not in the universe, then at least in Sergius Paulus's attention. Elymas behaves like an antichrist: the Greek anti means not only against but also instead of, and the antichrist's aim is to put himself in Christ's place.

In opposing the sorcerer, Saul temporarily blinds him, and we recall how Saul himself became blind when Christ revealed Himself to him. For Saul, temporary blindness became a sign of approaching sight and a call to repentance. Was this not what he wanted for Elymas too?

Luke does not mention whether Elymas repented or what his subsequent path was, just as he says nothing of Simon the Magician's fate. But Sergius Paulus came to believe, and here we see the first instance of apostolic preaching addressed to a high-ranking Roman official; the very first attempt was successful. (Might there be a connection between Saul's new name, Paul, and the proconsul's name? Might this be a sign of the spiritual unity established between them?)

The apostles' preaching continues in Pisidian Antioch. Now Paul, like Stephen whom he had persecuted so recently, reveals to the Jews the meaning of Old Testament history as a path to Christ. Paul is now ready to endure what befell Stephen.

During the washing of feet, Christ becomes a servant, though He is Lord and Teacher, and calls His disciples to do likewise. He does not call for the established hierarchy of society to be broken down, but intends to change the nature of human relationships, including social relationships, from within, reminding us of the need to serve one another as brothers. And if we try to make slave and master radically equal, we will soon see a new inequality flourish. But the equality of mutual service heals social wounds more reliably, and it is achieved not through exaltation, but in the way Christ showed His disciples. There is something dry and formal about Judas being named in full here; in this way, the evangelist must be stressing the end of the close friendship between him and the Teacher. Yet Simon Peter is also named in full. Of course, it was a coincidence that Peter's first name was the same as that of Judas's father, but perhaps it is no accident that the evangelist noted this coincidence in his account of events on the eve of the betrayal of one and the weakness of the other?..

Peter's humble embarrassment at having his feet washed by the Teacher goes hand in hand with a bold desire to receive more from Him, and at the same time with an understanding that without Christ one cannot wash away one's own sinfulness. Christ called His disciples washed clean, although He saw that they were not perfect and knew that they would soon falter. If we consent to His beginning to cleanse us, we need not be troubled that we are still not what we ought to be. We should trust and come towards Him, rather than turn away on the pretext of our own unworthiness. It is better to entrust the question of our worthiness or unworthiness to Him.

Today's reading presents an episode well known to every reader of the Gospel: Jesus washing His disciples' feet. It should be noted that washing the feet of guests entering a house was common practice in the ancient East. This is hardly surprising: footwear in warm countries was usually open, and in those days people did not sit at table but lay or reclined on a special kind of couch. Washing one's feet before a meal was therefore regarded as good manners, just like washing one's hands. A household slave assigned to the task normally did this work, but on special occasions the master of the house himself might wash the feet of especially distinguished guests, thereby showing them particular respect. Jesus here evidently takes on work usually entrusted to slaves (verses 1–5). And the evangelist regards His action as a sign of the fullness of love characteristic of the Kingdom (verse 1). The contrast between Jesus' position within the apostolic community and the task He took upon Himself was so striking that Peter protested, wishing to turn an ordinary act of hygiene into a kind of ritual washing. This apparently explains his request that Jesus wash not only his feet but also his hands and head (verses 6–9). The apostle probably thought such a ritual washing more fitting for Jesus than simple slave labour, since it implied a spiritual content that, to Peter, ordinary foot-washing seemed to lack. But Jesus evidently sees the situation quite differently. He does not regard a slave's work as something low or unspiritual. He says: I have just shown you an example to follow, if you really are My disciples (verses 12–17). Apparently, the point is not to try to imitate Jesus' actions in some way. It is to be ready to do for our neighbour precisely what they need at that moment. For in the Kingdom there is no work that is ‘exalted’ or ‘lowly’, ‘spiritual’ or ‘unspiritual’. Everything is determined not by the nature of the work but by one's attitude towards the person for whose sake it is done. Then the distinction between ‘exalted’ and ‘lowly’ disappears: love puts all deeds and ministries on an equal footing. Only purely functional differences remain, which are not really so important spiritually. Yet this attitude towards every task is possible only when the one performing it remains in the Kingdom. It is no accident that the evangelist saw in what Jesus did for His disciples an expression of the fullness of love possible only in the Kingdom. Jesus' words calling the disciples to follow His example then become clearer. He calls them to live in the Kingdom, every day and every hour—not at some indefinite future time, but here and now.

Peter and the other apostles were naturally embarrassed. No wonder: the King of Israel was washing their feet, doing a slave's work! Many of us would surely dislike it if the person dearest to us began doing something humiliating and improper. But this washing of feet is a decisive moment in the history of Jesus' relationship with His disciples; anyone who dislikes it is free to leave.

Why is it so important? Apparently it is impossible to understand the Lord and follow Him without learning through experience this lesson in which the Master serves those beneath Him and the Teacher serves His disciples. As Scripture says, this is an example—but not an example on a board or in a picture. Peter and all of us must pass through this shock so that we will never again be shocked by the thought that we too must serve those who are lesser and weaker than we are.