Notes for  5 July 2026

Recorded around the third century before the birth of Christ, these words sound like a distinctive summing up of the dramatic history of the people of Israel: the ways of God were revealed in it, and through all the despair and failures the truth emerged: God has mercy. At every moment of history, to the one living through another turn of events, the mercy of God may be not at all obvious, and only after time has passed are people able to see it. Thus human history becomes a source of God's Revelation about Himself.

The tragedy of history did not disappear after the composition of the book of Wisdom, and therefore the Revelation recorded by its author is so important for us: relying on it, we gain ground for hope. It is very difficult to see, through all the sufferings of the world, God disposed to spare everyone. Whole generations renounced faith because they could not discern this, but the word has nevertheless been spoken, and we have the opportunity to hear it. At the same time, like every Revelation of God, it also has a practical aspect: created in the image and likeness of God, we are called to become like Him precisely in this, to be disposed to spare everyone.

Much has been said and written about the world's reaction to Jesus' witness to the Kingdom that He brought into the world, just as much has been said and written about its reaction to Him Himself. And yet the brightest illustrations of this reaction are precisely the Gospel stories, despite the brevity often characteristic of them.

Such is also the story of Jesus' healing of the possessed man. In itself, from a spiritual point of view, such a healing was an outstanding event, even apart from the fate of the particular person freed from the burdensome power of the dark forces over him. But the inhabitants of those places were pagans, and in those times this meant practical irreligion. It is hard to say what they thought about the possessed man living not far from them, but in any case his healing, it appears, did not impress them very much. Something else impressed them instead: the loss of an entire, and probably rather large, herd of pigs.

Of course, the first reaction of anyone reading the Gospel to such indifference will be surprise, and perhaps indignation. But if one thinks about it, the reaction of the inhabitants of a typical pagan city was completely natural for pagans. Pagans are simply people who live by the laws of the untransformed world and know, or do not wish to know, any others. And in the untransformed world, inertia, worldview stereotypes, and behavioral patterns play an enormous role. People who live by its laws feel truly comfortable in it, and it never occurs to them that this comfort is deficient by definition.

The abnormality of the situation is emphasized by the constant presence beside the inhabitants of the city of a herd of pigs: from the point of view of the Torah, pigs are unclean animals, defiling the place where they live and the people who come into contact with them. Accordingly, the pagans in the Gospel story live in a state of uncleanness that is normal for them, just as it is generally normal for the fallen world. And all their behavior, all their reactions are "tuned" to this fallen world. The spiritual dimension in the proper sense of the word does not exist for them, while they understand very well what material loss is. And therefore the presence of Jesus frightens them.

Of course, trouble can be expected from Him, especially if the trouble is the very presence of the spiritual dimension in one's own life. And the townspeople honestly, with all the frankness characteristic of man, ask Him to leave. And He leaves: the Kingdom is not imposed by force; it can be accepted only by free will.

Truth be told, one somehow does not want to look in the mirror: this does not look like our life. But... is it really completely unlike it? Each of us has our own experience of "the great works of God." If we look at ourselves objectively, we cannot fail to see that the Lord truly acts in us when we turn to Him. And the Holy Spirit truly lives in us; otherwise, how could we do anything good at all?

We ourselves may not notice these changes, but from the outside they can be astonishing. A living example of the Holy Spirit's action can be a chance overheard dialogue between two Christian women: "I knew that woman 10 years ago, but she did not recognize me." "Then let us tell her that you know each other!" "No, no! You did not see me 10 years ago!" Who, besides the Holy Spirit, is able to change a person beyond recognition, and at the same time for the better, to that person's own joy and the joy of those around him?