NOTES for Luk 4:1-15

What is the meaning of the trial the Savior has to pass through in the wilderness before He begins His preaching of the Kingdom? With what does the devil tempt Him? If we look closely at the picture described by the evangelist, it is not hard to see: the issue is precisely the Kingdom, what it is and how it is to be brought to people.

The first and simplest thing that can come to mind is this: the Kingdom is bread, a society of universal and free prosperity. It is the dream of the post-Soviet person: everything in abundance, and all of it for free. Of course, in the Kingdom no one truly lacks anything and never will. But a person cannot share in the Kingdom in his present condition. Change is needed, transformation is needed, and that means effort is needed. But the one who receives everything in unlimited quantities and without effort will have even less desire to strain himself for the sake of some transformation. Why would he need it if, as it appears, everything is already wonderful?

Then, it appears, people will have to be led to perfection with a firm hand. "Perhaps You could try that," the devil suggests to Jesus. "Here are all the kingdoms of the world, for just one symbolic bow to me, which no one will see, which no one will know about, and I," says Satan, "will no longer stand in Your way. The world is before You; build Your Kingdom in it." All for one bow that means exactly nothing: after all, we are alone, there are no witnesses, no one will ever know anything.

But Jesus, of course, understands: one bow, and the Kingdom being built will cease to be itself. It will no longer belong to God but to the one before whom the bow was made, and it will be built not according to God's law but according to the law of the fallen world, on the basis of which one can build an empire of evil, but certainly not the Kingdom of God. The compromise is rejected: it is not merely unethical; it is impossible in principle, spiritually and ontologically.

"Well then," the evil spirit says to Jesus, "if that is how it is, only personal authority remains. A guide is needed, a leader, a spiritual head. If You want," the devil says to the Savior, "let Your Kingdom be like that." But authority does not come by itself; it must be earned. And what impresses a crowd more than a miracle performed before its eyes? So perform a miracle, demonstrate levitation, throw Yourself down from the roof of the Temple, and when they see You floating in the air, everyone will follow You.

It is hard to argue: fallen human nature is drawn to miracles. But only to those that do not require inward, essential change. Of course, the Kingdom is also a miracle, the main miracle of our days. And there, in the Kingdom, the resolution of all real problems can be found. But on one condition: a person will have to change, be renewed, and change his life, outwardly and inwardly. Fallen man would like all problems to be resolved without any changes, at least without changes that touch his own deep essence. And of course he will follow a leader who promises such a resolution, especially if that leader has supernatural abilities, because such abilities guarantee the fulfillment of what was promised.

But Jesus, of course, does not want to be that kind of miracle worker. He wants to open the Kingdom to people, not amaze them with supernatural abilities. And He again says "no" to the devil. Only now, when all the main seductions and temptations connected with the Kingdom have been offered and rejected, does Jesus begin His preaching.

Today's reading brings us back again to the temptations that Jesus experienced in the wilderness. Unlike Matthew (Matt. 4:1-11), Luke lists these temptations in this order: the proposal to turn stones into bread (vv. 3-4), the proposal of a bargain (recognition of authority in exchange for freedom of action) (vv. 5-8), and the proposal to perform a miracle obvious to everyone (vv. 9-12). It is not hard to notice that this order differs from the one given by Matthew, where the proposal to perform a miracle follows immediately after the proposal to turn stones into bread, and the proposal of a bargain concludes the sequence of temptations.

Why, then, do the evangelists' descriptions differ? And which order should be considered correct? The first question is not hard to answer. Clearly, none of the evangelists could have been a witness to the event they describe, for during the temptation Jesus was alone in the wilderness. Both Matthew and Luke tell about it from someone else's words. Matthew, who belonged to the twelve apostles, had the opportunity to hear from the Teacher Himself what had happened in the wilderness; Luke, evidently, had to use the testimony of those who could communicate directly with Jesus.

But each of the evangelists undoubtedly interpreted what he had heard in his own way, for the Gospels are not stenographic reports, but authored texts that imply, in each case, a quite definite understanding and presentation of everything seen and heard. Evidently this is why many of the evangelists' accounts differ in details and particulars, including the account of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness. As in some other cases, Luke conveys this account differently from Matthew, placing the emphasis in his own way. For him, it appears, the main temptation is not the devil's direct proposal to make a bargain, but the temptation connected with the possibility of taking the path of performing miracles obvious to everyone, the kind that so attract people who want all their problems solved instantly.

Perhaps Luke, writing his Gospel at a time when quite a few different accounts and stories about Christ had already appeared (Luke 1:1), had to draw his readers' special attention to the fact that the essence of Christianity is by no means miracles. Many of the accounts he mentions were probably at times utterly fantastic in character, like the stories that fill some apocryphal texts. They are full of miracles, but miracles precisely of the sort that those around Jesus sometimes demanded from Him and that He never performed.

The apocrypha themselves, of course, did not yet exist, but legends and rumors about incredible events connected with the Savior's earthly life, later set down in them, may well have already been circulating in circles close to Christianity. And Luke has to remind his readers that Jesus came into the world not to demonstrate miracles that strike the imagination of an admiring crowd, but to give the world the Kingdom.

What is the Savior's temptation in the wilderness? Why did it become possible? The simple and traditional answer is that He, while remaining Man in His divinity, could be subjected to temptation by the devil just like any person. But this is only part of the answer. Every temptation is a test; in Greek (and also in Hebrew), both concepts are denoted by one word. So what was the meaning of the test?

Jesus is the Messiah, and the test was, obviously, connected precisely with His messianic ministry. More exactly, with the possibility of distorting that ministry and thereby making it meaningless. Distorting it just as the devil had already managed to distort it in the minds of many believing Jews, those who expected a miracle-working Messiah, a Messiah who would provide His subjects with complete abundance - of course, on earth, in our world, still by no means transfigured and lying in evil. In fact, this is exactly what the devil proposes that the Savior do: turn stones into bread; demonstrate miracles connected with superhuman abilities hidden in human nature.

But the main temptation lies elsewhere: the devil offers Jesus a deal. He tries to assure the Savior that the world in fact belongs to him, the devil, and not to God. And that the Kingdom must be negotiated with him, with the devil, if Jesus, of course, wants His Kingdom to have any place in the world at all. The devil tempts the Savior with the very same thing with which he tempts every person doing God's work; that is why the description of this temptation is important for us. If He were tempted in some special way, invented only for the Messiah, the story of His temptations would be interesting to us only theoretically. And, of course, biographically, as a most important episode of Christ's earthly ministry.

But one way or another, in one form or another, all this awaits any of us if we are Christians and want to follow Christ on His path. To substitute something for the Kingdom and its life - whether the illusory possibility of universal earthly prosperity or the development of superhuman abilities. And if that does not work, then to offer a deal, a compromise that will shield us from problems and troubles on the Christian path in a world lying in evil. Each of us has to resist these temptations. Throughout our earthly journey. Provided, of course, that our earthly journey really is a continuation of His path. The path of the Kingdom, running through a world lying in evil.

Once again we stand before the scene of our Lord's temptations. And at times the sense of awe and wonder before what is happening leaves us, because it appears to us: what is strange about His defeating the devil, since He is the Lord, the Ruler of the universe? Then the whole scene becomes for us a sporting event whose result everyone already knows. How easily every temptation bounces off Him, like a tennis ball off the world's top-ranked player!

But if this is our perception, we must urgently renew it, because what is taking place before our eyes today is the greatest, perhaps the chief, spiritual event in all human history. Our Lord created the creature without evil, but free to choose between good and evil, and then part of creation used this right and chose evil.

Can the Lord Almighty, Pantocrator, Omnipotens, correct the situation and return the world to its pre-fall state? This is Dmitri Karamazov's question, or the question of theodicy. He can, for Omnipotens means Almighty. But then this would mean that the Strong One deprived the weak one of life (for God's opponents are weak before Him), exercised power over him, and deprived him of the freedom He Himself had given him. That would simply be unfair and base, and the Lord in His perfection is not capable of such a thing.

People sometimes joke that the best cure for a headache is the guillotine. But the Lord did not want to apply that cure; He found another, one that would help not as quickly as the guillotine, perhaps after another hour or so, but after which the head would still be able to think. And this cure was to come down and stand on the same level as His opponents, in order to fight them on equal terms and not settle everything by right of strength.

This is exactly what is happening, and from the moment the Lord overcame His temptations, the countdown of that "hour or so" began. Time is passing.

There are many people in the world who assert, with varying degrees of sincerity, that they would certainly believe in God if God proved to them that He really exists. This implies that the proof must be utterly obvious and convincing. In essence, in such a case people usually speak of a demonstration, not simply of proof. It would seem that it would cost God nothing to convince anyone of His existence if He only decided to demonstrate Himself, His power, His miracles.

But for some reason He does not do this. The devil, on the contrary, incites Jesus to demonstrate what God refuses to demonstrate. A kind of peculiar levitation. Hovering over the abyss. So that all who see would be convinced: before them is no ordinary person, but Someone possessing supernatural power. And of course they would follow Him. Why would the devil need that? Does he need the people to follow the Messiah?

Sometimes, as one can see, he would not object. Sometimes it even suits him. But only in one case: if the Messiah ceases to be Himself and becomes what people would like to see. People of precisely the sort who would follow God too, but only after a convincing demonstration. And they would follow as they are, without changing inwardly at all. Then it would be the devil's victory. God does not refuse demonstrations by accident. He is not going to attract anyone to Himself by force or by miracles.

Even God's power is an external factor for the human heart. The only inner factor for a person is God's love, because it always comes from within. From the depths of the heart. And it cannot be proved. It cannot be demonstrated outwardly as power or miracles can be demonstrated. But one can follow God only when one follows His love. This is essential; in God's love is His depth, and so the fullness of His person is revealed to us. Power and miracles also come from Him, of course, but they are not the center of His person, only its periphery.

He wants to make us part of His life in essence, not only outwardly. And the Messiah came into the world precisely for this. He came to bring the Kingdom into the world. The Kingdom whose dwelling assumes the relationships of that very love which is the revelation of God's depth. But the devil advises Him to leave the depth and instead of the depth show people the surface. The outer shell. The periphery instead of the center. And then he, the devil, will win his victory. For he can somehow adapt even to God's power and God's miracles. But the one thing he truly fears is God's love.

The problem of insiders and outsiders has always existed, in every society and every culture. Everywhere and always it has turned out that it is better to be an insider than an outsider. But then the Messiah came into the world, and it turned out that everything was not so simple. It turned out that an insider is not necessarily someone we know. Most often it is someone we think we know. And this is understandable: we perceive our own people as part of the familiar and known world. There is no need to look closely at them, and no need to listen carefully to their words. In general, we already know more or less what our own people can tell us.

Outsiders are another matter. An outsider is always someone you do not know. Someone who is not part of the known and familiar world, and here it does not matter where he is from: another continent or the neighboring village. Outsiders are often rejected, but they are always looked at closely. People listen to what they say. Not necessarily in a friendly way, but always attentively. After all, an outsider has to be understood. Or at least explained to oneself. Explanation is often an illusion of understanding. Understanding presupposes the perception of another person as he is. Explanation begins when we perceive this other person as we want to see him, so that he will fit within the bounds of our perception of the world familiar and known to us.

Christ can and must be accepted as He is. And He can and must be understood too - also as He is. But He does not need to be explained. Not to ourselves and not to others. Provided, of course, that we want to communicate with Christ and not with our images of Christ. And here it turns out that it is easier for those to whom He is an outsider. They know nothing about Him. His own people also know nothing about Him, but they think they know everything. Unlike outsiders, who at least are not mistaken about their ignorance. And it is this way not only with Him.

It is this way with God too. With His heavenly Father. It is no accident that Jesus gives examples from ancient Jewish history of God's not being recognized by His own people. A failure to recognize Him that separates people from God. And from the Messiah too. For God or the Messiah to begin to act, a person must want it. And must turn directly to God. Directly to Christ. But not to those images of God or Christ that he has invented for himself. Otherwise even the Kingdom may turn out to be unreal. Imagined. And so may life in 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.