Notes for  17 June 2026

What does the prophet mean when he says that God is a good refuge in the day of distress? The simplest interpretation, of course, would be to take his words to mean that religious feeling, hope in God, helps in hard days those who have such hope. It is hard to argue with that - but is this the hope Nahum is speaking about? For then, in essence, it would be more accurate to speak not of God as a reliable refuge, but of religious feeling as a reliable support, which in a day of distress can indeed be useful and has been useful to many.

The prophet, however, speaks of God's goodness, which becomes a refuge in the day of sorrow (the corresponding Hebrew text can also be interpreted this way). And God's goodness belongs not only to God: He also placed it in the world He created, which at the beginning, before the fall, was, in the Bible's words, "very good" (or "wholly good" - the corresponding Hebrew text uses the same word that Nahum uses in his preaching). Part of this goodness, inseparable from the fullness of God's world - the fullness destroyed by the fall - are people seeking salvation from God (the corresponding Hebrew word, rendered in the Synodal translation as "those who hope," properly means "those seeking refuge" or "those seeking salvation"). Indeed, anyone seeking salvation or refuge from God is clearly ready to trust Him with all his heart, to rely completely on Him, and such readiness establishes deep and strong relations between God and a person, relations characteristic not so much of the fallen world as of the Kingdom.

Of course, before Christ came into the world it was still too early to speak of the Kingdom's nearness. But the world was originally intended by God to be His Kingdom. It ceased to be so because of the fall, which was not so much a natural or historical event as a spiritual one (all the natural and historical phenomena connected with the fall are only consequences). Yet the one whose relations with God were restored as far as is possible for the fallen world shared in that fullness of God's world which for the Creator always remained a reality. And such fullness could indeed become a true refuge even in the hardest days.

Today the Lord speaks to us about how to die for another, how to die for the faith, and therefore for Him. But has it been granted to us to die for Him? No one persecutes our faith; we are free - does this mean that we have no share in martyrdom? Here is what the poet and preacher John Donne writes in the "Litany" dedicated to the martyrs:

And when You so irresistibly
Strove to die, even before it was granted You,
And afterward, when it was no longer granted You to die again,
You, in Your generously scattered mystical body, desired
To die in Abel, and yet
In Yourself. Let their body be
For our forgiveness, by meaningful acceptance
Of death, or rather, of life: for behold, there are those
For whom not to be a martyr is martyrdom.

We really are free - but if it is torment for us not to be martyrs, if love for God and people is so strong in us that everything within burns with the desire to lay down our life "for our friends," then by our life we partake of their death.

God Himself never forces His mercy on anyone. Even His coming into this world takes place simply as the birth of an earthly Child. If we are called to become like His perfection (Mt 5:48), then our mercy and piety too must be neither showy nor intrusive, but a joyful expression of our hidden relationship with the heavenly Father.

The prophetic speech continues; the terrible words predicting for people the harshest consequences of what they have done do not fall silent. And among the many warnings, the prophecy of Ephraim's return to Egypt sounds striking and even strange at first. The One who brought His people out of Egypt warns that after many centuries the unfaithful people can return to the starting point. To imagine this is like supposing that whole centuries could be erased and everything that had taken place between the Lord and His people could vanish without a trace. And what remains now? To begin everything again, or not even to begin? But then what will remain for those who have turned away from their only Hope, except meaningless wanderings among more fortunate nations?

No, the Lord remains faithful to His children even when they are unfaithful to Him. But sometimes, when we very much want to get along without Him, He as it were (a fashionable filler phrase, "as it were," but it fits here) withdraws and gives us the chance to see what it is like to live without Him. Or, as in this case, through His prophet He draws the consequences of such attempts. And now we are free to act as we wish, but we lose one thing - the ability to claim that "we did not want this." We were warned!

The capital of Assyria is called a city full of deceit and murder, and it is no accident that these grave sins are singled out and mentioned together. The path along which the pagan kingdom walked was the path of lies and death. This is the very path onto which the father of lies, rightly called a murderer from the beginning, tries to lead people, longing to destroy all whom he draws into his mire. Hopes of receiving power from him are groundless from the start; after teasing people with the illusion of might, he will surely deceive and destroy them. Where now are the many rulers whose power seemed unshakable?

The Assyrian Empire also collapsed - the prophecy of its destruction was fulfilled. Since then, the history of its people has in many ways resembled Israel's fate. The Assyrian people are still scattered throughout the world, and, like the Jewish people, they have more than once faced attempts at destruction. But like Israel, this ancient people is alive today, and that means its historical path continues for a reason. It also means that the Lord closes none of His good paths either for the Assyrian people or for any other people.

The Lord appoints priests as mediators between Himself and the people. They reconcile the people with God by means of sacrifices. They have no income from the land: they feed from the altar, and their portion is the Lord Himself. In the New Testament, priesthood is given to all who believe in Christ. But how, then, are the rights and duties of the priests from Aaron's line projected onto the New Testament priesthood? What does it mean for us today to have the Lord as our portion? And how do we carry out our ministry of reconciling God with the world?