Notes for  25 July 2026

Usually we think that unity of mind is something that can be achieved or obtained. The expression itself is characteristic: to “achieve unity of mind,” as though one keeps striking until it appears. We befuddle one another, produce tons of arguments, or simply persuade one another so that the other person will begin to think the same way we do. The best among us try to take the other person’s point of view, not only to make him agree, but also to try to agree with him ourselves. When such a situation happens at work, it is called “going to the boss to exchange opinions: you come in with yours and leave with his.”

The apostle, however, calls us to something entirely different: “May the God of patience and consolation grant (δωρέομαι) you to be of one mind among yourselves, according to Christ Jesus.” The point is that unity of mind is a gift of God, and therefore it cannot be achieved by human means. We know that gifts from God are received by those who ask for them, and we always have that possibility. But what the apostle says about the conditions for receiving precisely this gift is striking. First, the boundless God, when we ask Him for the gift of being of one mind with one another, manifests definite traits of His person: patience and consolation. And if we ask Him for a certain gift, then we should try to be like Him in what is essential for the giving and, therefore, the receiving of it. In this case, in order to acquire the gift of unity of mind with one another, it is necessary to be patient and able to console one another.

Next, why do people seek unity of mind? In ideologized societies or married couples, one can see that we seek unity of mind in order to rule over one another or to gain certainty when faith is lacking. But the apostle says: “that with one mind and one mouth you may glorify God.” And if our goal is different, unity of mind will not be achieved by any power.

Finally, what must be done to receive this gift? This is what: “Therefore receive one another, just as Christ also received you.” How did Christ receive us? In unconditional mercy, when we were still sinners. If you want to be of one mind with another person, this is the path: pray for it, endure and sympathize with him, seek unity in order to glorify God together, and with love and mercy receive him as he is.

Jesus' words about blasphemy against the Spirit seem mysterious. But they probably seem so to us because our perception of the Gospel text is often overlaid with theological models—in particular, Trinitarian models, especially when the text mentions the Holy Spirit. Yet in Gospel times no Trinitarian theology existed, of course, and God's Spirit was viewed more from a practical spiritual standpoint—as an element of concrete spiritual and mystical experience, and above all prophetic experience. In the context of prophetic experience, the Spirit is experienced as the entirely real breath of God entering the human heart and renewing a person from within. There could be no mistake here: either God breathed in the heart or He did not. Since that was the nature of the matter, there could be no question of confusion or misunderstanding.

When theological theories and concepts are involved, mistakes are possible, of course. One can even fail to recognize the Messiah in the Messiah. In principle that too can happen, and not necessarily through a person's ill will; the reasons may vary greatly. But when God's breath and its action obvious to everyone are involved, there can be no mistake. Only someone who does not want to see can fail to see this action.

If the refusal to see also becomes aggressive, so that a person begins to revile God and His works, such a position naturally becomes a spiritual dead end for him. This is not because God is easily offended, but because rejecting God's breath automatically means rejecting the Kingdom that this breath permeates from its center to its farthest reaches. And rejecting the Kingdom clearly leads to rejecting life and salvation—a rejection about which nothing can be done, because it is made freely, without any compulsion.

The Epistle to the Corinthians speaks not only of the danger of the Christian path but also of suffering and death, without any obvious reward. For the only motive proves to be the desire “that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh,” while “the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.” How far this is from our usual ideas about a person's calling, about fulfillment in this life, and, finally, about glory!

Why does John, who himself bore witness to Jesus and saw the Spirit descending upon Him, suddenly send his disciples to Him with such a question? Perhaps he wants to strengthen his disciples' faith? Or perhaps in prison he himself was passing through the final trials of faith?

In any case, this question is extraordinarily important for us: “Art Thou He that should come?” We are called not merely to “believe” but to take a very decisive step—to take up the cross and follow Him. To do so, we must be certain that this is indeed He.

Jesus answers in the words of a messianic prophecy: let John's disciples judge by the works He performs. It seems that nothing else is left for us either: to look at what He does in our lives and in the lives of people we know, and to draw the right conclusions.

Speaking to His disciples about His path and ministry, Jesus mentions a “Comforter” whom the Father will send them and whom, Jesus Himself says, the world can neither see nor know (vv. 16-17). This “Comforter,” whom Jesus also calls the “Holy Spirit” (v. 26) and the “Spirit of truth” (v. 17), will in due course remind the apostles of everything they are now hearing from their Teacher (vv. 25-26). The mention of God's spirit, or breath—the corresponding Greek word, like its Hebrew equivalent, can mean either—in the context of an account of the Kingdom is, of course, no accident. The Old Testament prophets were the first to speak of God's spirit, or breath. For them the spirit was not an abstract theological or philosophical concept but part of a living experience of communion with God; they truly felt God breathing in their hearts.

But Jesus apparently means something more. He speaks of the spirit as a reality on a universal, cosmic scale that nevertheless remains hidden from the world, for this reality belongs to a different order than our still untransformed world. The breath of God unites everyone who abides in the Kingdom, making them one whole: the Father, Jesus Himself, the apostles, and all who will enter the Kingdom through their prayers and under the influence of their preaching. In the past, only certain people felt God's breath at special, exceptional moments in their lives; now it is revealed to everyone who abides in the Kingdom. And no wonder: God's breath permeates the Kingdom, gives it life, and gives it the power to affect the world by transforming it. Because of this breath there are no distances in the Kingdom; here only the quality of relationships and the intensity of love determine mutual closeness.

Until now, the apostles had seen the Kingdom only because of Jesus: they looked at Him, and through Him God's power was revealed to them. Now they were to enter and see from within what they had previously seen only from outside. The time was coming when Jesus would become invisible to a world capable of seeing only what had not yet been transformed. The apostles themselves would therefore no longer see Him with physical sight; but after entering the Kingdom, they would find Him there, seeing Him no longer with their eyes but with their hearts (vv. 19-20). It is no accident that Jesus speaks of a peace unknown to the untransformed world (v. 27): true peace and harmony are possible only in the Kingdom, permeated by God's breath and joined by bonds of love. Again and again Jesus calls the apostles into this Kingdom so that, having become part of it, they may carry it into the world that so greatly needs transformation and sanctification.

In the context of the Gospel, the cross means Christ's sacrificial love. The passage from Deuteronomy explains how this love can be embodied in our relationships with our neighbors. Forgiveness is an action in which we are ready to give something up for another person's sake, in order to preserve the love between us. Sometimes we must give up demanding repayment of a debt—recall the Sermon on the Mount—and sometimes our ambitions, wounded pride, or emotional comfort. The greater what we give up and the more we forgive, the greater the love binding us to our neighbor, who may sometimes be someone we barely know. When we understand that another person is more important to us than our other values, whether material or spiritual, we begin to understand what love is...