NOTES for Mar 1:1-13

What can "baptism with the Holy Spirit" mean? We are so used to this expression today that we have, it seems, somewhat forgotten its original meaning. Perhaps the word "baptism" itself is to blame, filled as it is with its own, purely Christian meaning and somewhat obscuring the meaning of its Greek and Aramaic equivalent: a cleansing washing that accompanied the traditional Jewish ritual of purification, which consisted, properly speaking, of this washing and a special kind of cleansing sacrifice. During that sacrifice, as during the washing, the person being cleansed publicly confessed his sin aloud before everyone. Confession of sin and repentance alone were not enough. The washing, like the cleansing sacrifice, was meant to free the sinner from the consequences of the sin he had committed, consequences that were completely real and that, if no measures were taken, would hang over the sinner for the rest of his life as a heavy spiritual burden, interfering with his relationship with God and blocking his road into the Kingdom.

But water and sacrificial blood cleansed only from the consequences of a specific sin, and even then only if it had been committed involuntarily, through ignorance or weakness. To enter the Kingdom, however, one had to be freed from sin completely. And here only God Himself, by His breath, could cleanse a person. No human being has such power. Only the Messiah sent by God can open for those seeking the Kingdom the path to the goal they seek.

Speaking of the coming Messiah, Mark mentions washing "with the Holy Spirit." What does he mean? And why was such a washing impossible in pre-Christian times? Did God's breath not fill the world then just as it does now? Of course it did. All the prophets of Israel spoke of the breath of YHWH (of the Spirit of the Lord), and the movement of this breath was undoubtedly familiar to them. And yet there is something special in the washing with God's breath of which John speaks.

What were cleansing washings in pre-Christian times? They were part of a rite of purification, the part with which that rite began. It was thought that impurity stained a person both from the outside and from within, and that one had to be cleansed from it both outwardly and inwardly. Ritual washings were used for outward cleansing: water, people thought, carried away everything from which a person wanted to cleanse himself, his body, and his life. But this was not enough: the cleansing washing was always followed by a special purifying sacrifice, and here, through sprinkling with sacrificial blood consecrated by God, the person was cleansed already from within. God's presence, of course, also sanctified the body already washed with water, but most of all it sanctified the soul and heart, freeing them from the consequences of a committed sin or of contact with uncleanness. But such cleansing, alas, did not guarantee freedom from sin in the future.

Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of the Messiah there can be no place for sin. To become its inhabitant, one must be completely changed, become so alien to sin that it will never again enter the life of the one seeking the Kingdom.

This, of course, is beyond the strength of fallen humanity. But what is impossible for man is possible for God and for the Messiah sent by Him. He can wash a person not with water and not with sacrificial blood, but with that breath of God which can not only cleanse a person, but completely transform him. This transformation becomes, for the one seeking the Kingdom, the final cleansing washing and the final sanctification: a washing and sanctification after which there will no longer be room for sin in his life. At least to the extent that this life will belong to the Kingdom.

So we begin reading the Gospel according to Mark. Following the evangelist, we will remember and live through the Gospel events we know so well, relate them to our own life experience, and try to change ourselves so that we may become at least a little more like "the pioneer and perfecter of faith, Jesus" (Heb 12:2). How many times have we read this Gospel? Where should we begin this time? Mark begins his account with words about John and the baptism of Jesus. In order to receive the Good News of Jesus, the people had to repent, to recognize that they did not correspond to the coming Kingdom of God. And how are we to apply to ourselves the words of the prophecy: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make His paths straight"? It is here, at the very beginning of the road, that we face the need to reassess and reconsider our whole life so that we may be able to follow Mark into the later stories, in each of which we can meet the Lord Jesus.

The Saviour's earthly ministry begins with the descent of God's Spirit, followed by the trial in the wilderness (described in greater detail by the other evangelists) and the ministry itself, the testimony to the Kingdom (Mark describes all this briefly and concisely). What, then, do we have before us: a unique feature of Jesus' ministry as Messiah, or a certain universal spiritual algorithm (insofar as one can speak of algorithms in spiritual life at all)? Or perhaps both?

Of course, Christ's path is unique. Yet, on the other hand, Jesus was not born as a human being in order to have nothing in common with us, including in matters of spiritual life. We will probably not face trials like those that awaited Him in the wilderness, although something similar may quite possibly await us as well: the devil is not as inventive as he is sometimes thought to be. We will in any case have to bear witness to the Kingdom, provided that we are Christians not merely in name. And the descent of God's Spirit will also certainly become part of our spiritual life, unless, of course, we remain forever, in the spiritual sense, children who have taken the first step towards the Kingdom and stopped as soon as they crossed the threshold.

But how all this will happen remains an open question. Similar or identical spiritual processes sometimes take very different forms under different external conditions. They take their own form for each person, and there is no point in imitating someone else's spiritual life: it is useless in any case and almost always brings only harm.

Quite apart from the fact that, in the Messiah's case, such efforts look simply ridiculous as well. Jesus did not come into our world so that we would imitate His life, nor to force each of us to travel the same path that He travelled (in the end, none of us is capable of this, for one would have to be free from sin). Jesus came into the world to give us the Kingdom, to give it to everyone who wishes to enter it, and also to help us get there.

Of course, the way into the Kingdom is no less difficult than the way of righteousness in pre-Christian times, and it is just as impossible to travel it without God's help as it was to travel the way of righteousness without His help. But on the way into the Kingdom there is an obstacle that is in principle insurmountable for a human being: the sinfulness of fallen human nature. Even if a person is somehow able, with God's help, to walk the way of righteousness, any one of us can only be carried into the Kingdom in His arms. And Jesus' entire earthly path was necessary precisely so that He could later carry each of us into the Kingdom in His arms.

This, of course, by no means implies that there will be no trials in our lives or that we will not need the help of God's Spirit. It is impossible to travel the whole way in the Messiah's arms, and life in the Kingdom also requires the ability to walk. But He will help us overcome what is insurmountable for us. Otherwise we would have to forget about the Kingdom forever.

The Lord was tempted in the wilderness for forty days in order to be entirely like us. Thus, when we begin to complain that the Lord cannot understand this because He has never gone through it, He can answer us: “No, I am here now, with you, in the trial in which you now find yourself. If you are undergoing temptation, know that I went through it and overcame it; you were created in My image and likeness, I created you, I love you, I died for you on the Cross and rose again, and therefore you too can emerge victorious from temptation. I showed you an example; I overcame temptations, and I overcame death.” The Kingdom of God is very near; it is within us to the extent that we make room for it in our heart. Fasting is a time when we can clear space within ourselves, carry out a thorough cleaning, and take out the trash; then much more room will remain for God. Then God will come, proclaim the Good News of Salvation to us, and become King in our heart, for a kingdom is what belongs to the King, His own personal domain.