Notes for  10 July 2026

In the Gospel there are quite often situations when Jesus speaks in hints that His listeners do not understand at all or understand incorrectly. A misunderstanding arises, which Jesus nevertheless does not resolve. Or rather, He resolves it in a rather distinctive way: instead of a direct answer He offers a new hint.

As a result, those listening to Him remain in complete perplexity, arriving at conclusions very far from those which, as it turns out, Jesus expected from them. What is this: deliberate mystification? Hardly: Jesus was never a mystifier. Or is the matter what is sometimes called the messianic secret - the fact of His messiahship, carefully hidden by Him until the time? Perhaps - when the question concerned His messiahship, Jesus gave no direct answer; it was voiced no earlier than the Lord's entry into Jerusalem.

But the matter is hardly only the messianic secret; the features of human nature are also important. It is not by chance that in the culture of the East, and in a certain period also of the West, the parable, the hint, and the unsaid played such a large role. It was thought better to hint at the answer and give readers or listeners the possibility of finding it themselves than to give everything ready-made. And the point is not only that a solution found independently is remembered better. The state in which the seeking person abides also plays an enormous role. This state presupposes the rejection of all ready-made and habitual cliches - not always their complete destruction, but always rejection.

For a paradox is always built on the possibility of seeing something new in what is well known, by looking at it from an unexpected angle. And the capacity for such a view is connected with a person's fundamental openness. Not only intellectual openness, for intellectual openness alone without spiritual openness usually does not exist, but precisely spiritual openness is needed for full life, especially for the life of the Kingdom. And Jesus prepares His listeners for this life by His very word, for the word too is an instrument of the Kingdom.

What, one wonders, does Jesus mean when He speaks of a "scribe trained for the Kingdom"? What treasury is He talking about? And how is what He says connected with the Savior's parables about the Kingdom, in which He compares it to a found treasure and to caught fish?

Indeed, the meaning, for example, of the parable of the found treasure is quite clear: when the matter concerns something truly valuable, one can sacrifice everything for its sake, selling all and buying what gives access to this value. A person who knows and understands what the Kingdom is is ready to give up everything in order to receive the possibility of standing on the path that leads to it. Of course, to buy the field does not yet mean to receive the treasure; the field is only the place where it can be found, just as the path into the Kingdom is not yet the Kingdom itself in all its fullness. Nevertheless, to stand on the path means to make the first and most important step, choosing the right direction. The "scribe," that is, the theologian, "trained for the Kingdom," as we can see, must above all be able to set priorities correctly: he need not renounce his knowledge or his tradition, but it is absolutely necessary to make all of it serve the solution of the main task - movement toward the Kingdom. He will probably have to give up something, but if one pearl is worth more than all the rest of the merchandise, the exchange makes sense.

But simply standing on the path that leads to the Kingdom is still not enough: judging by the parable of the many caught fish, many may find themselves on this path and even at the threshold of the Kingdom, because the net is cast as widely as possible. The history of the Kingdom is above all the history of its revelation in our transforming world, and therefore in one way or another everyone will learn about it and come into contact with it - at least once in life, at the end of time. But such contact in itself guarantees nothing: different fish get into the net, but being in the net does not yet mean getting into the cherished basket; the bad fish is thrown back into the sea.

As we can see, the path into the Kingdom is truly open to everyone, but entrance into it - and therefore salvation - is guaranteed to no one. Christ's coming became for us the guarantee only of the possibility of salvation, whose realization depends in many ways on our own choice and on our own resolve - not only when we are just entering this path, but also when we are already walking it.

The prophet calls the people of God to turn to the Lord with a prayer for forgiveness and healing. And God's forgiveness is boundless. It is not only, "well, all right, I will not punish you anymore"; it is truly healing. The people to whom this forgiveness is granted blossoms like a lily. The Lord gives peace and joy for which we did not even dare to hope. His light illumines everything - and heals. And therefore Ephraim, having turned back, will understand how empty his heart was when he tried to serve idols. What the Lord gives cannot even be compared with anything human.

Today's reading is devoted to an event described by two evangelists: Matthew (Mt 1:18-23) and Luke (vv. 26-38). It is reasonable to think that Luke used in his Gospel the testimony of the Virgin Mary herself, unlike Matthew, who relied on Joseph's account. In addition, in Luke's presentation the story of the Annunciation is joined to the story of the Virgin Mary's visit to Elizabeth (vv. 39-56). Using such a composition, the evangelist, as it were, compares and relates two events: the birth of John the Baptist and the Nativity of Christ.

At first glance, such a comparison can appear rather conditional: after all, the birth even of such a prophet as John is still incomparable in significance with the birth of the Messiah-Christ. And yet this comparison has its own meaning. For every miracle is nothing other than God's intervention in nature and history, changing, though not completely stopping, the course of natural and social processes. From this point of view, the Nativity of Christ too could be considered an ordinary miracle, if only the word "ordinary" were appropriate in this case. For even the birth of the Messiah-Christ and the entry of the Kingdom into the world are not something absolutely external to this world; otherwise Christ would have had no need to be born, and the Incarnation of God would lose all meaning.

The Kingdom is amazing precisely because it includes our world and does not destroy it. Perhaps for this reason the Incarnation of God was absolutely necessary: by containing Himself within the bounds of human nature, which is by definition limited, God enters the world not from outside, but from within; now His greatness does not prevent Him from becoming wholly, to the end, part of the world He Himself created. Apparently, in a fallen world it was not possible to act otherwise; it was possible to set it right only from within, and God resolves on this step for the sake of His love for people.

But even before this He did not abandon humanity, and above all His people. Every miracle, every theophany, was a step toward the world and toward the human person. Therefore Luke quite rightly relates John's birth to Jesus' birth: all "ordinary" miracles find their meaning only in the main miracle - the birth of the Messiah and the manifestation of the Kingdom.

Today's reading lets us see what religiosity can turn into when living spiritual experience is completely ignored. Of course, in itself it does not exclude the possibility of full communion with God, but on one condition: if religion occupies a subordinate, auxiliary position, remaining only a means for expressing and embodying revelation. Meanwhile any religious tradition becomes self-sufficient if special efforts are not undertaken for its spiritual renewal. And if politics is mixed into religion, as happened in Judea in the Gospel period, this happens even faster.

And, as we can see, the majority of the Jewish religious leaders of the Gospel era did not even try to look at the situation that had arisen in Jerusalem because of Jesus' preaching (vv. 40-43) from a spiritual point of view. For them He was merely a violator of the established order. From their point of view He could in no way be the Messiah, since His appearance did not correspond to the messianic ideas accepted in the Judaism of that time. And besides, a prophet "does not come from Galilee" (v. 52).

Before us is absolute confidence in the truth of one's own religious tradition, which no revelation can shake. If miracles happen contrary to what religion says about them, then they are "wrong" miracles. And even if they are so obvious that many of the people believed the One who performed them directly before their eyes, no one is interested in the opinion of the people: after all, they do not know the Torah and are therefore "accursed" (v. 49). Yet among those gathered for the feast there was almost certainly not one who had not read and studied both the Torah and the other sacred books! But, as we can see, their knowledge of the Torah was different; it did not prevent them from believing in Jesus, and therefore they are, of course, "ignorant" - otherwise how would they have differed in opinion from the religious authorities?

However, authorities who depart from the "general line" also get their share: when, for example, Nicodemus dares to say that before passing judgment, and all the more before condemning, it is necessary at least to hear the accused (vv. 50-51), he is silenced. The arguments are simple and have nothing to do with the Torah, truth, or justice: you yourself must be from Galilee, so you defend your fellow countrymen (v. 52). It is no surprise that in such an atmosphere Jesus could not count not only on a just trial, but even on a more or less objective assessment of everything He said and did.

In their wanderings through the wilderness, the Israelites needed to be guided by the word of the Lord in all their deeds and undertakings. Listening to His voice, they won victories over enemies, and the opposite was also true: disobedience led them to destruction.

For us, as for ancient Israel, obedience to God is vitally important. Agreement with the Father's will leads us to true happiness and to the fulfillment of our calling.