NOTES for Luk 3:1-38

Today's reading brings us back once again to the figure of John the Baptist. Here again we encounter the different visions of the evangelists Matthew and Luke, this time regarding John's ministry. Unlike Matthew, Luke, in addition to the general content of the prophet's preaching (vv. 3-9), also mentions the advice John gave to people of different professions and social groups (vv. 10-14). This advice differed in different cases, but it also had something in common: all of it, in one way or another, was connected with the question of keeping the commandments given by God. Clearly, when John recalls Isaiah's words about the need to "prepare the way of the Lord" (v. 4), he has in mind first of all the importance of following the Torah. It would seem that there was nothing fundamentally new in such an appeal: all the Old Testament prophets spoke about this. Yet there was also something unusual in John's activity.

It is no accident that the evangelist's account mentions tax collectors ("publicans") and soldiers (vv. 12, 14). Both groups were outcasts in Jewish society in Gospel times. Publicans were seen as collaborators, working with the occupiers and robbing their own people. As for the soldiers, the reference here is probably to Roman soldiers who were either pagans, which is improbable, or proselytes, former pagans who had converted to Judaism. The social position of such proselytes was rather ambiguous: they were not considered full members of the Jewish community, only their children became such, while to their fellow tribesmen they were outsiders, and often traitors.

John, however, evidently accepts everyone regardless of social or religious status. He obviously did not think that the coming messianic Kingdom would be given only to orthodox Jews. The way was open even to those whom the people of God considered lost, and lost forever: the publicans. For they had committed their sin consciously and freely, and from the consequences of such a sin, it was believed, one could not be cleansed, even if later the sinner sincerely repented of what he had done. God could accept his repentance, but the defilement left by the sin would rest forever on him and on his descendants.

Meanwhile John did not push away even the publicans, requiring only that after the cleansing washing ("baptism") they should no longer violate the norms of the Torah (v. 13). For him, evidently, cooperation with the Roman authorities was not as terrible a sin as it was for most of his contemporaries. But of course that was not the only point. For John, as no one else, understood that the Messiah whom he awaited and whose coming he testified to would bring into the world the Kingdom where everyone would be given the chance to begin life with a clean slate. And his own task was to prepare the people of God for this new life. A life in which, after repenting, even the most terrible sinner can share, if only he is able to accept the chief gift of the Kingdom: the gift of God's love.

The words of John the Baptist, addressed to Pharisees who were, in general, deeply religious and pious, sound somewhat strange. And the point is not only that he calls them "brood of vipers," but also his words about their desire to avoid the wrath approaching them, by which he clearly means the wrath of God.

Much is explained here by the religious psychology that most of those Pharisees who did come to John for washing were guided by, though there were hardly many such people, since most Pharisees were skeptical of John's words and activity. Apparently they simply believed that there can never be too many purifying washings, and that one more would not be superfluous in any case.

John called for conversion and repentance, being sure that everyone without exception needed this, as well as the corresponding purifying washing, that among the people of God there were none ready to meet the Messiah, that there were no pure ones who could go out to meet Him with a calm conscience. John partly inherited such a view from the Essenes, with whom he was likely closely connected for some time, but to a great extent it was the consequence of the revelation John himself received, the revelation that made him go out to preach.

Most Pharisees did not agree with the prophet, being sure that they at least were ready to meet the Messiah: after all, they had devoted their whole lives to preparing for that meeting, and purity, spiritual, moral, and ritual, occupied the chief place in their lives. But, as one can see, among the Pharisees there were also some who could at least suppose that everything John said was true.

What if he really was a prophet, a man of God? What if he was right? Then, just in case, it would be better to perform the purification to which he called. In any case it would not be worse, and it could be better if this strange preacher turned out to be right after all. But such a washing was, of course, not at all what John was calling for. Here there was precisely the desire to perform one more purification "just in case," so as to please God with a guarantee. To avoid that very wrath to come. Which, without a real awareness of one's own sinfulness, could not be avoided anyway.

Those who came to John were not asking by chance what they should do next. John was speaking of the Messiah's imminent coming. In Judea at that time many, if not all, were awaiting the Messiah. And many were sure they were ready to meet Him. There were even more who were not sure they were ready, but were sure they knew how to prepare. And most were sure that the Messiah's coming would be a feast for them, a feast of meeting God's Servant and a feast of the triumph of the Kingdom whose inhabitants they hoped to become.

And then a prophet appears who says that it is not all so simple. That the meeting may turn out to be not so joyful at all. That in essence there are practically no people ready for this meeting. And that very many, if not all, who await the meeting with the Messiah will have to prepare. In such a situation the question of what to do, how to prepare, was entirely urgent. John spoke of conversion and purification. He spoke of them even to those who, in general, had no special reason to consider themselves unclean. He spoke to those who already believed in the God of Israel. What more is needed?

Conversion implied some changes in life. What changes? Those who came to John and believed him were asking him precisely this. The prophet spoke of fiery purification, and his listeners understood what he meant. Theophany can become a consuming fire for a person if that person is not ready for the meeting. It was necessary to prepare. And John would tell the people who came to him how to prepare. He does not propose anything especially complicated. No lengthy prayers, no special complex purifying rituals.

The main thing is love for one's neighbor and openness to him. And the point is not only that without such openness one's neighbors will inevitably suffer. The point is also that without learning openness in communication with people, it is practically impossible to learn it in communication with God. The skill of openness is much easier to acquire in dealing with a person like yourself than in dealing with God, who is not like you at all. And John recommends this as the best preparation for meeting the coming Messiah. And as an anticipation of the experience of life in the Kingdom, where openness is one of the chief principles.

In Gospel times, the coming of the Messiah was associated by most of those who awaited Him with the day of God's judgment. This is no surprise: the Messiah was to establish His Kingdom on earth, and not everyone could enter that Kingdom, but only the righteous. Therefore the day of the Messiah's coming and of the arrival of the Messianic Kingdom, by definition, had also to become the day of Judgment. True, this Judgment was understood in different ways, so that in popular religiosity one can find many images describing it.

John uses one of these images in his preaching. At its foundation lies the picture of humanity's separation, and this separation is symbolically described as the winnowing of wheat at harvest. This is an image to which the Savior Himself also turned more than once during His earthly ministry. As we can see, it proved very apt for describing what will happen on the day of the Kingdom's triumph and the final Judgment. The subject is the separation between the righteous and sinners. But here there is not simply separation; rather, there is a kind of examination, a test of fitness.

Grain to one side, chaff to the other: this is clear. But grain differs from chaff qualitatively. They even have different weight, and it is different because grain is filled, while chaff is empty; it is only husk, an empty shell. Here lies the main distinction between those entering the Kingdom and those remaining outside. The whole question is with what a person comes to the threshold of the Kingdom: whether he is full or empty. And this, in turn, depends on the path the person has traveled.

Righteousness, after all, is connected above all with that presence of God without which it simply cannot exist. This presence is what fills a person. It makes him grain. But if there is nothing of the kind, if a person goes through life seeking no presence of God or not thinking about God at all, then there will be nothing for him to be filled with. Then at the end of the path, at the threshold of the Kingdom, he will prove empty. It is not God Who judges and drives a person away from this threshold. One could say that the person judges himself. Or, more precisely, the path he has traveled becomes judgment for him: traveled either with God or without Him.

It was not God's will that evil should appear in the world. He did not want it; we ourselves allowed evil into the beautiful world created by the Lord, where everything was "very good." Yet He feels responsibility for it upon Himself, just as parents blame themselves and their upbringing when a child gets into trouble.

But what can be set against evil? Surely He would have had the power to deal with it in direct combat, for He is almighty. But He does not do this. It is like parents trying to give a child the chance to correct his own mistakes, so that he may understand them and learn something. Yet He still sets something against evil (for as a Good Parent He wants to help us), not His might, but His defenselessness.

How could Herod's violence have been subdued? It is very hard to understand that this vicious tyrant can be opposed by the defenselessness and weakness of a small bird, a dove that is easy to kill, yet a weakness that conceals within itself the boundless power of the Spirit of God. "And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption", the Apostle tells us. How harmoniously this allows us to continue speaking about ourselves and God in terms of children and a Parent. We grieve Him when we do something wrong. Let us think about this special sorrow. It creates us.

To understand the story of the temptation of Jesus Christ, we need to remember the story of Adam, to whom the evangelist points in the last words of the previous chapter. In the biblical account of Adam's temptation (Gen 3), he was offered the chance to become "like God" by breaking unity with God and eating the forbidden fruit. As He begins His ministry, Jesus, as the "new Man," must pass through the same trial: Jesus is offered the chance to become King by using "traditional means" - bread, spectacle, power, and wealth. He chooses another path, the one that will lead Him to Golgotha.

By placing two examples before the reader - Adam and Christ - Scripture also awaits the reader's choice, since every person has a great goal, and everyone has the freedom to use devilish means to reach it.

Why is the Savior's genealogy so important to us? He was born of the Holy Spirit, but nevertheless the evangelist places it in his text, though he could have chosen not to. Moreover, he begins with the words: "He was, as was supposed (!), the son of Joseph." If this is simply a misconception that existed among the people, why write about it? But we know that there is not a single accidental letter in the Word of God. This means that we must understand what exactly the Lord is telling us through it. Perhaps He needs to show that in coming into the world He came to humanity not as the higher to the lower, but as one of our own, our kin, in order to erase the last boundary that hinders the love of human beings for God and of God for human beings. For who was Joseph? One of the line traced back to Adam. Yet he is entrusted with care for God. In the image of Joseph pressing the infant Jesus to his breast, all people, through the genealogy, receive the fullness of communion with God.

But this line is not traced simply back to Adam: "...Seth, Adam, God," writes the evangelist. God is at the beginning and God is at the end. He is the alpha and omega of this genealogy. And this genealogy becomes a prototype of the genealogy of all humanity. The final point of this genealogy becomes the summit of humanity's genealogy, which has not yet reached its own end. "Christ is the head of the Church", the Apostle tells us. The head, the summit... this is something deeply connected with everything else; it is its completion, its fulfillment, not something separate, given from outside. This is exactly what the Savior's genealogy is meant to remind us of.