Moral Theology — Topic 8. The Moral Teaching of the New Testament.
- The Moral Continuity of the Old and New Testaments
- What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ?
- The Beatitudes
- Prayer and the Christian Life
- Moral Aspects of the Lord’s Prayer
- Moral Teaching of the Apostolic Age
In the context of the ethics of Sacred Scripture, one of the most important texts is clearly the Lord’s Prayer, “Our Father.” Already in the “Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” one of the oldest Christian texts, as a recommendation on exactly how Christians should pray, it is stated that instead of hypocritical prayers, one must address God “as the Lord commanded in the Gospel.” The author then quotes the text of the Lord’s Prayer, after which he says: “Pray like this three times a day”[1].
It is truly difficult to overestimate the significance of the “Our Father,” for it is the only prayer given by Christ Himself. In this case, the circumstances in which the prayer is mentioned in the Gospels are not so important. The Evangelist Matthew records it in the context of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:3–12), while the Evangelist Luke notes that Christ taught it in response to the disciples’ request, “Teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1), which they addressed to Him when they saw Him praying. Naturally, it can be examined from various angles, analyzed in the context of the entire Holy Scripture, and discussed in terms of the peculiarities of its language and form, since the ancient manuscripts of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke contain different versions of the text—extensive and concise, respectively. It is quite evident that, in the context of moral theology, the more complete text should be considered, especially since it in no way contradicts the brief version.
The prayer itself in the Gospel is preceded by several conditions:
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Prayer must not be hypocritical, that is, it must not be performed for show (Matt. 5:6). On the contrary, the Savior advises praying in private: “Go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father.”
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Prayer should not be verbose: “Do not use vain repetitions, as the Gentiles do,” because God knows what we need (Matt. 6:8).
In the Lord’s Prayer, we see a parallelism that was already traditional in Old Testament culture. The first three petitions are addressed to God, Who, of course, is mentioned first as the One on whom all existence depends. The petitions addressed to God are followed by three petitions from people concerning themselves.
Addressing God as Father
Thus, in response to the disciples’ request, Christ gives them a prayer that begins with an address to God as Father. Given that Christianity entered a world already filled with a wide variety of religious concepts, it is worth emphasizing that its distinctive feature is a deeply personal and trusting relationship with God. Furthermore, it is important to understand that, on the one hand, this prayer is deeply rooted in the tradition of Old Testament Israel, which had experience of such an address. Thus, the prophet Isaiah, addressing God, says: “You alone are our Father; for Abraham does not acknowledge us, and Israel does not recognize us as its own; You, O Lord, are our Father; from of old Your name is ‘Our Redeemer’” (Isa 63:16). Here we already see a fatherly perception of God and the no less important experience of feeling a sense of community in standing before Him. Moreover, this experience is not diminished by the fact that the prayer is offered in solitude. When addressing God, even when alone, a person must feel part of the community of disciples; their petitions must not be individualistic, because the disciples are all parts of one Body; their interests are not selfish interests, but the interests of brothers and sisters. Just as the first commandment of the Decalogue makes all the other commandments possible, so this address to God as Father points to such a deep, personal connection, to such a knowledge of God, which becomes the foundation for further relationships and makes all other petitions possible.
However, in the very act of addressing God as Father, there are entirely new meanings that arise thanks to the disciples’ connection with the Son of God, which enables them to be adopted as children of God in Christ. This adoption turns all thoughts and gazes, all human hopes, “upward,” which is why it is said of God that He dwells in heaven. In this address to God as the Heavenly Father, there is a clear expression of that turning away from the earthly—as profane and defiled—toward the heavenly, that is, the sacred and holy. As already mentioned, in the context of the Old Testament worldview, only God is Holy, and He calls for human holiness, which is expressed in the demand for moral perfection and righteousness. A person may tremble at the realization of their unworthiness and experience feelings of repentance, but they must not abandon their striving toward God.
Petitions Dedicated to God
It is precisely this striving for holiness—which, in the end, must become the holiness of all people—that is connected to the following petition of the prayer “Hallowed be Thy Name.” This petition brings together many things. Just as creation once began with the words affirming existence “Let there be light,” just as the Virgin Mary replied to the Archangel Gabriel, “Let it be done to me according to your word,” so too does the person who utters “Hallowed be Thy Name” affirm, through the personal acceptance of this Holiness as the goal and meaning of his life, his consent and his choice of God and His will. At the same time, in these words one can see the desire that the Name of God be exalted and revered as Holy by all people. Naturally, in the desire that the Name of God be proclaimed as Holy, there is a clear expression of the aspiration that the life of a person—and indeed of all humanity—may correspond to this Holiness.
Thy Kingdom Come
The desire that God’s Holiness—which can be understood as God’s separation from and opposition to the world of sin—be reinterpreted in the context of the world’s transformation and its return to the Creator is expressed in the following petition of the prayer: “Thy Kingdom come.” Throughout the pages of Scripture, we encounter many people who desire to attain the “Kingdom” and inherit “eternal life.” However, the true desire of a disciple must be that the Kingdom come into the world, so that the world itself may finally become the Kingdom of God. The Savior calls: “Seek first the Kingdom of God” (Matthew 6:33), but this search for the Kingdom is impossible without hope in His coming for all people, because the Kingdom of the Triune God excludes all selfishness and the desire to use Him for oneself and one’s own purposes, since this is the Kingdom of Love.
It is often believed that the words about the coming of the Kingdom imply a desire for the end of the world, which is perceived as a universal catastrophe. In turn, this allowed pagans to accuse Christians of a lack of love for the state and their fellow citizens, and allows modern atheists to accuse believers of escapism and a desire to shut themselves off from the world. However, the Savior does not tell his disciples that the Kingdom is a reality only of the age to come, but says to them: “The Kingdom of God is within [or among] you”****(Luke 17:20). The possibility of a dual translation allows us to see the Kingdom as an inner state that becomes a space of shared life for the disciples. They are already living in the Kingdom and, at the same time, awaiting its full manifestation. It is precisely the disciples’ shared expectation of the Kingdom and the expectation of the Kingdom itself—as an experience of communion with God and all creation—that allowed Tertullian to write in his Apology, “We pray… for the delay of the end of the world”[2]. The disciples’ goal is not for the apocalypse to come, but to preach the Kingdom to all people.
Thy will be done
The reality of any kingdom lies in the fact that the king’s will is fulfilled within its territory. Christ teaches the disciples to call for the Kingdom and, at the same time, sends them into the world to proclaim this Kingdom as something already possible here and now. Moreover, it is possible not only in mystical experience, but in the experience of keeping the commandments, about which the Savior says: “Jesus answered him, ‘Whoever loves Me will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him’ (John 14:23).” Thus, to seek the Kingdom and to call for its coming is not to speak of some geographical place or a specific time, but to speak of the realm of God’s will, which is not merely accepted by people as something imposed, but is sought as something desired. However, this realm of God’s will can be nothing other than the realm of the human heart. A disciple who has not merely accepted but has come to love the Lord not only accepts God’s will but fulfills it, because he recognizes it as entrusted to his hands. The world that God has given to man is God’s plan embodied in matter, entrusted to the hands of the one created in the image of the Creator. A person who keeps the commandments merely as conditions for achieving their own goals, who “gathers for themselves,” will not succeed, for whoever does not gather with God scatters (Matt. 12:30). On the contrary, the one who has managed not to use God, but by renouncing his own will to desire God’s will as his own, sets out on the path to wholeness and the discovery of the meaning of life. However, this “renunciation of one’s own” is never easy, because therein lies the root of the corruption that arose in the heart of the man standing by the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. He chose to desire his own will, to assert his will as the will of a “new god,” one who would be “like God.”**** This is precisely why the path to the Kingdom—the path to the fulfillment of God’s will in the world—lies through renouncing one’s own will, through the apostolic experience of “leaving everything behind” and “following Christ.”
Petitions dedicated to man
Give us this day our daily bread __
The following petition seems to mark a transition to something entirely earthly, with no connection to the spiritual realm. However, a careful examination of Scripture reveals that food has played a vital role in human life from the very beginning. Our relationship with the Creator itself is established through the fruit of the tree, which could be interpreted in various ways. Man was called to regard the world, and especially the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, as a gift and a sacred object, which could be approached only after proper preparation. At the same time, he could perceive it as a sacred object that one must simply make use of. As a result, man’s attitude toward food became his attitude toward the Creator. Having decided to become “like God,” he himself decides what to eat, what will become his “daily bread.” In doing so, while striving for freedom, man has in fact enslaved himself to food, to the struggle for resources, to the struggle for survival… On the contrary, the one who left everything and followed Christ, who became “poor in spirit,” possessing nothing of his own, has no bread of his own… and with hope turns to God with the request: “Give us this day our daily bread.” A person does not ask God for strength to earn a living, nor does he ask for circumstances or opportunities; he asks specifically that God give him the bread that will be daily for him—that is, essential, necessary for life. In this sense, the request for bread is the same as the request for God’s will. For in asking for bread, which is food, he makes a personal choice; he chooses God and His will, and thereby chooses a completely different life. The life of the entire world, from the most primitive creatures to the most highly developed, is filled with a struggle for the resources necessary for survival. Unlike all living creatures on earth, man is capable of pausing to see the true foundation of the world, which is not reduced to resources. It is quite evident that this kind of asceticism is entirely possible within the framework of virtually any religious system, but only in Christianity does it become not a victory over oneself and not even a sacrifice, but a choice of God’s will. Christ exemplifies this choice in the Gospel by rejecting the food offered by the devil—as Eve should have done—and pointing to the word of God, which is the true source of life.
However, the path of communion with God as Father and the acceptance of His will as the foundation of physical and spiritual life proves to be very difficult. In the Gospel, we see how the apostles time and again say and do things that reveal in them a desire for their own will rather than God’s will and a longing for Him.
Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors
In one of the lectures at the beginning of the course, we already discussed what a person’s debt to God is. Everyone has a basic experience of obligation: we must eat and breathe in order to live. In turn, modern culture, as a culture of law and order, tells a person that they must conform to certain norms. At the same time, in the moral sphere, a person rebels and asserts that they “owe nothing to anyone” or that they have the right to decide for themselves. In other words, each of us has experience of both absolute and relative obligation.
The commandments that Christ reveals to His disciples are absolute in nature. The first and foremost among them is the commandment of love. In paradise, love was violated, and people entered into a permanent conflict that includes the desire to fulfill one’s own desires at the expense of another—which is precisely what Adam attempted to do when he blamed Eve. Adam’s very words implied that “If the act was wrong, Eve should not have provoked it.” If she did, then the responsibility for the mistake lies with her. Ever since then, humanity has lived in an atmosphere of constant debt, claims, and demands toward one another. In fact, all conflicts that exist between people exist because they “do what they shouldn’t” and “don’t do what they should.” At the same time, by multiplying their conflicts and acting against love, they increasingly violate their only duty to God—the duty of love.
The petition “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” is a plea for an increase in love; as we grow in love, we forgive—that is, we break the cycle of demands and expectations that constantly haunts us. We give love not out of duty, but in an act of spiritual generosity, restoring relationships destroyed by sin. Simultaneously with this gift of love, in which forgiveness is contained, our debt to the Creator is also forgiven.
All the words of the prayer spoken up to this point elevate a person above the whole of everyday life. If he acknowledges that God is his Father, he understands that he must behave as a son. Of course, in the context of the Old Testament, a remarkably reverent, self-sacrificing, and loving attitude toward parents is extolled. But here it becomes an appeal to God. In a similar way, the desire for God’s Kingdom to be revealed in the world is a challenge to one’s own life, because a person must be ready for God’s will to become the sole rule for him.
This is precisely why the final petition of the Lord’s Prayer turns out to be an appeal to God, Who alone can help a person fulfill all that has been said. And yet one petition is directly made contingent upon a person’s own behavior. He himself asks God to treat him just as He treats other people.
In turn, whoever has not reconciled with his neighbor makes all other sins against him possible, and thus also makes temptations possible—as tests of the truth of all that has been said. If a person has said to God, “Thy will be done,” is he truly ready for it to be so? It is no coincidence that the Apostle James says: “Let no one say when he is tempted, ‘God is tempting me’; for God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He Himself tempt anyone, but each person is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own desire…” (James 1:13,14). A person does not know whether he can overcome himself, which is why he places his hope in God.
However, it is impossible to completely avoid temptations while living in a world that “lies in wickedness.” Moreover, there are many passages in Scripture itself where temptation is viewed as an opportunity to demonstrate faithfulness to God and to actively confirm one’s choice. The Lord Jesus Christ Himself, after being baptized by John in the Jordan, went into the wilderness and faced temptations. Continuing his discussion of temptation, the Apostle James says: “Blessed is the man who endures temptation, for when he has been tested, he will receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:12), and the psalmist even dares to hope for such trials: “Examine me, O Lord, and test me; try my heart and my mind” (Psalm 25:2).
But what happens to a person who has not passed the test? He follows the same path that our first parents took, that is, he chooses evil. One might say that a person does this while being tempted by one who is already evil, an evil spirit, but in any case, he makes the decision himself. In this regard, it is not surprising that, from a linguistic perspective, the last petition can imply both a request for deliverance from the evil one—that is, the evil spirit—and from wickedness—that is, evil as a state of opposition to God—into which one falls when temptation ends in failure. Realizing that if the first parents, who were pure and had no predisposition to sin within themselves, fell, man cries out to God in hope of His mercy, which will help him remain faithful.
Some later manuscripts of the Gospel of Matthew supplement the text of the prayer with the words “For Thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” Nevertheless, most scholars are convinced that this addition was made for the purpose of adapting the prayer for liturgical use. However, in the Church Tradition, these words were understood as the foundation of the very hope expressed in the prayer’s closing words, for if God is the King of the world, if He is powerful and glorious, then all things are possible for Him.
Finally, it is important to understand that virtually all the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer are already contained in one form or another in the Old Testament. At the same time, one can say that its novelty lies in those new relationships with God that are opened up to people through the God-man Jesus Christ.
[1] Writings of the Apostolic Fathers. — Moscow: Publishing Council of the Russian Orthodox Church, 2003. — p. 51. (8.3)
[2] Tertullian. Apology, 39
After Christ’s ascension, the disciples went to Jerusalem with great joy. This may seem strange, since they had just experienced the parting from their Teacher, whom they had only recently found alive. However, the missionary commission and the promise they had heard were so inspiring, and their faith in the invisible, eternal presence of Christ with the Church was so strong, that their sorrow turned to joy (John 16:20).
A look at the Book of Acts reveals that fellowship and unity were the hallmarks of the early Christian community’s moral life. The barriers created by original sin were broken down in Christ. Moreover, they refer not only to the barriers between Jews and former Gentiles, but also to any internal hostility that was the norm in the fallen world. The evangelist Luke describes this as follows: “The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had” (Acts 4:32). The path to this unity lay in leaving behind their former lives and entering into a special relationship with God in Christ. In response to the question, “What shall we do, men and brothers?” the Apostle Peter says: “Repent, and let each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38).
At the same time, it is worth noting that the most important elements that sustained the disciples on the path of their new life were instruction in the faith, the Eucharist, and prayer. It is no coincidence that the evangelist Luke says: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer” (Acts 2:42; 2:46). Initially, there was no talk of serious changes in moral life because the community consisted of Jews who perceived their conversion to Christ as the fulfillment of their Judaism. This was because, for people living within the context of Old Testament culture, the moral norms of the New Testament were self-evident.
However, the relevance of moral teaching became evident when former pagans began to join the Church. While the first among them, such as the Ethiopian (Acts 8:27) or Cornelius the centurion (Acts 10:1), were apparently proselytes or at least people who were “godly and God-fearing” (Acts 10:2), many of those to whom the Apostle Paul addressed lived a thoroughly pagan life “following the ways of this world, following the ruler of the kingdom of the air” (Eph 2:2). The Church’s view regarding the former was unequivocally expressed by the Apostle Peter: “God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears Him and does what is right is acceptable to Him” (Acts 10:34). Regarding the latter, there were disputes in Antioch, which led to the resolution of this issue at the Apostolic Council in Jerusalem. Testifying to God’s mercy toward the Gentiles, the Apostle Peter, in particular, emphasized that God “cleansed their hearts by faith” (Acts 15:9). At the same time, he was convinced that imposing the burdens of the law on Gentile Christians meant “testing God,” since salvation for all is offered “through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 15:11). As is well known, this led the Apostle James to formulate certain minimum requirements that Gentile Christians must observe: “that they abstain from things polluted by idols, from sexual immorality, from things strangled, and from blood, and that they do not impose on others what they themselves do not desire” (Acts 15:19–21).
It is evident that the apostles, living under Roman rule, were familiar with the pagan laws of that time. By permitting them not to observe the ritual aspects of the “law,” and counting on their observance of ordinary Roman legislation, the apostles deemed it necessary to emphasize those norms that would be unclear to former pagans.
Thus, the decision of the Apostolic Council prohibits:
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not only idolatry, but even eating food that had been used in pagan sacrifices;
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fornication;
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eating animals that had been strangled—that is, animals killed without their blood being drained—as well as consuming the blood itself, which was linked to the Old Testament idea that the soul resides in an animal’s blood.
Finally, apart from specific dietary or sexual prohibitions, the last instruction represents a form of the “golden rule of ethics” that was quite traditional for pagan societies. It is negative and clearly provisional in nature. Before acting in accordance with Christ’s positive commandment (Matt. 7:12), the converted had to learn to restrain their desires, taking into account the well-being of those around them. It is important to understand that this gradual approach to moral requirements reflected not only leniency, but also a genuine understanding that for people of a different culture, the formal adoption of even the most exalted laws would lead nowhere. Initially, based on the story of what happened in Antioch, one might assume that the goal of the Apostolic Council was to minimize that part of the Law of Moses which did not pertain to moral life. However, an analysis of the commandments suggests that they were grounded in the hope for a gradual growth of believers in freedom. Even in its negative form, the commandment “do not do to others what you do not wish for yourself” is capable of leading to a significantly more attentive work of conscience, since it implies not a simple orientation toward already existing norms, but an independent decision-making process guided by the moral sense present within the person themselves.
All the themes the apostles address in their epistles can be substantively divided into two groups. The Apostle Paul, who wrote primarily to the Gentiles, speaks of the initial stage of faith. In his epistles, he consistently lays the theological foundation for the repentance and return of the Gentiles to God. Their entry into the circle of the spiritual children of Abraham, who becomes the father of everyone who turns to God in faith. He, of course, often addresses specifically ecclesiastical issues, but nevertheless, the majority of his audience consists of people who have recently come to faith. Unlike the Apostle Paul, the authors of the Catholic Epistles address those who are well acquainted with the Old Testament tradition. They face their own difficulties, but they do not encounter problems with food sacrificed to idols, as the community in Corinth did, or the rejection of marriage, as in Ephesus.
Given that the path to God begins with conversion and repentance, it seems appropriate to turn first to the theology of the Apostle Paul, who speaks of this in greater detail than others.
Conversion and the Path to the Father __
The life of the Apostle Paul reflects the ideal path that all Old Testament Judaism was meant to follow. He perceives the encounter on the road to Damascus not as a revelation of a new religion, but as the embodiment and fulfillment of the entire previous path and, especially, the prophetic understanding of the Covenant as a gift bestowed upon all people through the chosen people. In his apologetic statements, he asserts that the Gospel he preaches is not of human origin, but was revealed to him personally by Jesus Christ (Gal 1:11). It is important for the apostle to emphasize that he is not creating his own teaching, but is confident that he is revealing Christ’s teaching to his listeners and readers, because no other teaching can simply be laid as the foundation of the disciples’ lives (1 Cor 3:11).
The moral picture of the world that unfolds before readers in the epistles of the Apostle Paul is based on his theological views.
At the same time, the first thing that must be emphasized is that, as is obvious to anyone familiar with the Old Testament, the world was conceived and created by God. It is rooted in the Creator’s good will; it “lives and moves and has its being” (Acts 17:28). Based on his knowledge of the Old Testament tradition and his personal experience of conversion on the road to Damascus, the apostle was convinced that God always acts first(Gal 1:15,16). This idea is the foundation of the apostle’s entire gospel message, as it gives rise to hope, which is meant to be the beginning of moral renewal. The entire history of humanity after the Fall clearly testified that God has always desired to save people (Gen. 3:15). It is He who instructs Noah to build the ark and calls Abraham, who becomes the “father of the faithful.” Finally, He makes a covenant with the people and, through Moses, gives the law, which becomes the path to holiness and moral perfection. In its theological foundation, the law is unique in that it allows the people to feel their separation from the world of sin. At the same time, it is clear to the apostle that the law is incapable of leading a person to salvation and true perfection. It is holy, but it cannot make a person holy. If this is the case, its entire purpose is threatened. Righteousness by the law is important, and in the Old Testament there were people who are called righteous, but their efforts could not undo the consequences of the original sin. Moreover, the apostle, who grew up in Tarsus, knew perfectly well that Gentiles “who do not have the Law” could just as well live by the law written in their hearts (Romans 2:15).
However, neither the Jew’s knowledge of the law nor the Gentile’s ability to follow the law of the heart is of any benefit to them. The Apostle was convinced that “those who, without the Law, sin, will perish under the Law; and those who sin under the Law will be judged by the Law” (Romans 2:12). This leads him to the obvious and bitter conclusion: “both Jews and Greeks are all under sin, as it is written: ‘There is none righteous, not even one; there is none who understands; there is none who seeks God’” (Romans 3:9–11) or, in other words: “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), all have become “by nature children of God’s wrath”(Eph 2:3). Here, “God’s wrath” is, of course, an anthropomorphism used to describe what St. Gregory Palamas called “God’s righteous abandonment”[1]. The point, of course, was not that God had changed His attitude toward man, but that man had violated God’s will and was now no longer capable of doing good deeds. The apostle describes man’s condition under sin as a state of powerlessness, in which one hears the realization of one’s dire situation and the desire for liberation: “ For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do —this I keep on doing” (Romans 7:18–19).
However, the thought of universal sinfulness, which could plunge a person into despair, leads the apostle to a conclusion that is radical for a former Pharisee: if everyone is in the same condition, then salvation can be granted to all , so that the “Gentiles, who were without the law, might be fellow heirs, members of the same body” (Eph 3:6) together with the Jews under the law. If, then, “Christ died for all” (2 Cor 5:15), then “through Him both groups have access to the Father in one Spirit” (Eph 2:18; cf. Rom 10:12, Gal 3:28). Of course, for those who lived in Judea and considered contact with Gentiles utterly unclean, such ideas were unacceptable. However, in these thoughts the apostle continues a prophetic tradition that affirmed that the Gentiles have their own potential and that a time will come when “ten men from all the nations of every language will take hold of the hem of a Jew’s garment and say, ‘We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you’” (Zech 8:23).
At the same time, the radical nature of the apostle’s assertions is grounded in a profound understanding of the promises God made to Abraham. Looking back to the pre-covenantal era, he finds what is capable of uniting “all the tribes of the earth” and making them heirs of Abraham. Such a virtue, uniting all, can be faith in God, who is one for both Jews and Gentiles and “will justify the circumcised by faith and the uncircumcised through faith” (Rom 3:30).
In this context, the idea of salvation—which is granted to all fallen humanity by grace through Christ, in whom “God has reconciled the world to Himself” (2 Cor 5:19)—becomes central to the apostle. He writes: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast” (Eph 2:8,9 cf. Rom 5:2). From a moral standpoint, this statement by the apostle can have a dual meaning. First, one could conclude that good works are completely unnecessary, since faith alone is sufficient for salvation. Such views have existed throughout history, both in Gnostic circles and, temporarily, in early Protestantism. Second, one could _perceive faith**** as the foundational virtue—the foundation upon which the entire edifice of the Christian life can be built. _It is sometimes believed that, contrary to the first interpretation, the Apostle James, who asserts that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26), and the Apostle Jude, who likewise emphasizes the important role of a righteous life. However, the Apostle Paul himself writes quite often about good works. Thus, while expressing the idea of salvation through faith, he writes that we are “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand for us to walk in” (Eph 2:10). In these words of the apostle, it is worth noting not only the mention of good works, but especially the condition under which they become possible: the faithful are “created in Christ” so that they may begin a new life. According to many of the Holy Fathers, by “creation” in this instance the Apostle meant the “recreation” of fallen humanity, which is accomplished by the Savior. In the words of St. John Chrysostom: “In the state in which we were before, that is, in the state of the old man, we were dead; but now we have become what we were not before. …By that creation we are called to life, and by it we are made capable of a good life” ([2]). God in Christ accomplishes the redemption of man and grants him justification as a gift. However, this does not mean that man must do nothing. The faith he acquires gives birth to hope within him**,** which enables him to turn to God in repentance (Acts 20:21).
Thus, the Jews who heard the preaching about Christ had the opportunity to accept Him as the Messiah and join the community of His disciples. For their part, the Gentiles to whom the apostle spoke came to know the God who created heaven and earth. In this encounter, both groups simultaneously came to realize their own weakness and the infinity of God’s love, which was ready to accept them, just as the Father accepted the prodigal son. ****
“Life in the Church”
In preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom, Christ addressed a wide variety of people. He answered the questions of the scribes and Pharisees, proclaimed the possibility of forgiveness for sinners, spoke with the Samaritan woman and even the Canaanite woman, though He said that He “came to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt. 15:24). He spoke at length with His disciples, but most of what has been preserved in the Gospels is of a universal nature and was addressed to people who had not yet decided to follow Him. The sermons of the apostles, which we find in the Book of Acts, were of a similar nature. At the same time, alongside missionary and apologetic themes about God’s love for all, universal sinfulness, and the possibility of salvation, in those same epistles we encounter instructions addressed to those who have already entered the Church and are walking the path of salvation.
[1] St. Gregory Palamas. Homily 16 On the Incarnation of Our Lord Jesus Christ // Discourses (Homilies) of St. Gregory Palamas. Montreal, 1968. pp. 161–162.
[2] John Chrysostom, St. Homily XXV on 1 Corinthians // Works in 12 vols. Vol. 10. Book 1. St. Petersburg, 1904. p. 37.
Even a person completely unfamiliar with the experience of religious life knows what prayer is. Religious life may lack elaborate rituals, and the concepts themselves may be very simple, but they will necessarily include the idea of the possibility of prayer. This is because the very concept of religion presupposes a connection with God, which is realized through prayer.
The language of Scripture contains a large number of terms that convey the idea of prayer. For example, the Old Testament contains the following terms: שָׁאַל (šāʔal) – to ask, to demand (Ps 26:4), חָנַן (ḥānan) – to implore for mercy and compassion (Hos 12:4), עָתַר (ʕāṯar) – to pray, to entreat (Ex 10:17), הִתְפַּלֵּל (hiṯpallēl) – to pray, to intercede (Gen 20:7, 17), תְּפִלָּה (tp̄illā h) – prayer, supplication (Ps 16:1), תַּחֲנוּן (taḥănûn) – supplication, prayer (Ps 27:2), etc. In addition, they can be replaced by the words to speak, to call out, to weep, to groan, to sigh, which speaks to a person’s deep involvement in prayer. Furthermore, prayer is also associated with the terms תְּהִלָּה (thillā h) – praise, glorification (Ps 21:26), הוֹדָה (hôḏā h) – to glorify, praise, give thanks (Ps 42:4), שִׁבֵּחַ (šibbē a ḥ) – to glorify, extol, praise, laud (Ps 116:1), and others.
In turn, in the LXX and the New Testament, several terms were commonly used. For example, αἰτέω – to ask, to beg, to demand (Matt 6:8), usually implied a request for oneself. It is characteristic that requests addressed to God are always heard (1 John 3:22, James 1:5). This verb is never used in Christ’s requests and prayers, unlike the next two. The verb δέομαι means to ask, to beseech, to implore (Luke 22:32). This term carries a sense of the supplicant’s closeness to God (2 Cor 5:20). Furthermore, it often denotes intercession on behalf of others (Acts 8:24; Rom 10:1) and reveals the deep bonds that exist among Christians (2 Cor 9:14; 2 Tim 1:3). The verb ἐρωτάω was also associated with supplicatory prayer and was translated as “to ask” or “to entreat” (John 17:20). Finally, the technical term denoting prayer in the strict sense of the word was the verb προσεύχομαι, which was translated as “to pray” or “to beseech.” It is this verb that primarily denotes an appeal to God and encompasses everything associated with it: a request, a promise, and prayer.
In Russian, the word prayer means “to earnestly ask God, to ask with humility.” Etymologically, the word “prayer” traces back through Proto-Slavic to the Indo-European *meldh- *moldh-, which meant “to perform a ritual of sacrifice to the gods.” At the same time, the Indo-European root *moldh- itself is the result of the expansion of the primary root *mel- *mol-, which was translated as “to praise in song, to sing in praise.”
It is already evident from linguistic data that prayer is characterized by everything that is characteristic of human communication. Naturally, life in a fallen world leaves its mark on those who pray: they more often ask and plead than give thanks, and even more so, glorify; they more often ask for themselves than for others. At the same time, in the highest manifestations of religious life, the righteous praise God and glorify Him, rejoicing in His very existence (Ps 135:26, Isa 12:4). The life of a person turned toward God is inextricably linked to prayer (Acts 9:11).
The classic definition of prayer is given by St. John of Damascus, who says: “Prayer is the lifting up of the mind to God or an appeal to Him with a request for one’s needs”[1]. At the same time, when speaking of prayer, attention is often drawn to specific issues related to particular requests, the number of prayers, and how to ensure that God hears the prayer. In such emphases, one can see a certain mechanistic view of prayer, which is perceived as a means of influencing God.
At the same time, the essence of Christian teaching on prayer, its very nerve and core, turns out to be the understanding of prayer as a living encounter with God. This encounter has value in and of itself, and not merely in the context of specific requests. Addressing His disciples, the Savior says, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (Matt. 6:8). This means that the primary value of prayer lies in the very possibility of communion with Him.
In the context of moral theology, it is important to determine what the conditions of prayer and its content might be.
The Moral Conditions of Prayer __
The first prerequisite—one that should shape not only the content of prayer but also our very attitude toward it—is the realization that Christian prayer is, above all, a conversation with God as a person, as a loving Father. Many ancient religions are characterized by addressing their gods with words that resemble incantations and are intended to control the deity. However, even in Abraham’s experience, we can see a deeply personal experience of communion with the Creator. He feels so close to God that he is ready to argue with Him in his intercessions for the righteous, just as Moses would later do. In the life of the prophet Elijah, this closeness manifested itself in his sharing God’s grief over the fact that prophets and those faithful to Him were being killed. In the New Testament, this distinctive aspect of prayer is continued. At the same time, addressing God as Father takes on a new dimension, because now it is prayer to the Father through the Son in the Holy Spirit. Christ literally teaches the apostles and disciples to address God as Father (Matt. 6:6–9; Luke 11:2; cf. Eph. 3:14). At the same time, Christ Himself is one with the Father, and therefore He can be addressed as both God and Lord. Moreover, if we remember that He “had to be made like His brothers in every way, so that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest” (Heb 2:17), prayer can be filled with even greater hope. Closeness to God as to a Father, as well as the awareness of adoption as God’s children in Christ, means that a person should pray with the confidence that God accepts his prayer as the prayer of a son. For if people, even when they are evil, are able to respond to their children’s requests, how much more will the Father “give good things to those who ask Him” (Matt. 7:11).
However, the realization of the heights to which prayer elevates a person implies that he must overcome the distraction and scattered attention in which he usually finds himself. In this regard, even in the Old Testament there was an understanding that prayer can be true or false, that is, worthy or unworthy.
Thus, true prayer implies that a person turns to God with his whole being (Jer. 29:12) and, in his petitions, is guided by His will (Jer. 29:12, 13). Already in the New Testament, this idea will be formulated with particular depth. Addressing His disciples, Christ says: “If you abide in Me and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you” (John 15:7). The abiding of “His words” in the disciples is precisely “the disciples’ abiding within the realm of His will,” because His will is expressed in the commandments and, more broadly, in His entire salvific work. The connection between prayer and morality is expressed even more clearly by the evangelist John, who says: “And whatever we ask, we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do what is pleasing to Him” (1 John 3:22).
In contrast, false prayer is defined by the fact that it is performed only with the lips and without a desire to live by the commandments (Isa. 29:13; Amos 5:23). Finally, an immoral life makes prayer simply impossible. In particular, the Old Testament speaks of disobedience (Isa. 1:15–17; 59:1; Deut. 1:43–45), a lack of love for one’s neighbor (Isa. 58:3–10), and injustice (Mic. 3:1–4), while in the New Testament, debauchery and a lack of love are added to these obstacles (1 Pet. 3:7; James 4:3); unbelief and doubt (James 1:5-7); and a lack of peace with one’s neighbor (Matt. 5:23; Mark 11:25).
What prayer may be like in form and content.__
Turning to Scripture, we can see that prayer can be private and communal. Addressing the topic of prayer in the Sermon on the Mount, the Savior says: “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door, and pray to your Father… (Matt. 6:6).” As one gains experience in prayer and draws on the experience of others, one may perceive a certain contradiction in prayer.
On the one hand, prayer, like any form of communication, is natural and requires no special skills. Prayer does not even require the skill of language, since it can be a wordless standing before God. Moreover, even if we speak of language, it can be any language; the main thing is that it be sincere.
On the other hand, prayer turns out to be incredibly difficult, as it requires sincerity and simplicity in standing before God. A person finds themselves in the presence of the One who knows them better than they know themselves.
Standing before God, one must set aside all attempts to appear as someone else and, having broken down all barriers, be open to communion. Prayer is also difficult because it demands concentration from modern people, who are accustomed to living in a state of constant distraction and entertainment.
Finally, in prayer, a person is called to open themselves not only to God, but also to other people, their needs, and their weaknesses. In the struggle against their own selfishness, a person must realize that “to pray for people is to shed blood…”[2].
Finally, prayer requires trust. When addressing God with requests, a person should not be verbose.
Having expressed their will, they must at the same time surrender to God’s will, rather than dictating conditions to God, engaging in what Christ called “much talk.” From this trust arises the experience not only of expressing one’s will, but also of inner silence, which allows us to hear the word with which the Word of God addresses us.
Moreover, in the experience of silence and trust, we are called to acquire the experience of renunciation, which requires true courage on our part in accepting the will of the Heavenly Father.
In addition to private prayer, which is found throughout the Old Testament, there is also communal prayer. Moreover, for a person created in the image of the Triune God, even private prayer takes the form of communal prayer. For example, the prophets very often address God on behalf of the entire people. In turn, in the New Testament, communal prayer takes on a completely different meaning. The disciples are called to set aside selfish desires and pray together, because they become one Body in Christ. Explaining the importance of unity among people when addressing God, the Savior says: “Truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matt. 18:19–20).
Prayer as a communal endeavor of all Christians is particularly evident in the liturgy. By gathering in one place for what is “the one thing necessary,” Christians manifest the fullness of the Church. This fullness is mentioned twice: first in the prayer of the second antiphon, and second in the prayer from the ambo ([3]). Addressing God, the priest prays: “Save Your people and bless Your inheritance; preserve the fulfillment of Your Church” ([4]). By “fulfillment” is meant the “fullness of the Church,” which manifests itself in two modes: communion in prayer and communion in the Eucharist. Moreover, this fullness has a moral condition, to which the first petition of the Peace of the litany calls: “Let us pray for peace to the Lord.” Here, of course, “peace” is understood not as society, but as a peaceful spiritual state, which proves to be an essential condition that makes turning to God possible. In this “reconciliation,” victory is achieved over the consequences of the Fall and over the division among people. All the petitions of the liturgy are communal petitions; by uttering them, people learn to live with shared concerns. It is important to emphasize here that even private petitions for specific sick or traveling individuals are voiced for everyone, so that all may pray together for the needs of their brothers and sisters.
Another important characteristic of prayer, which is directly connected to the moral life, is its constant presence in a person’s life. Addressing the Thessalonians, the Apostle Paul writes: “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:17). It may seem that this requirement is completely unrealistic and can only be understood as hyperbole. Thus, for example, St. Gregory the Theologian said: “One must remember God more often than one breathes.” In a practical sense, monks known as “akimites,” meaning “those who do not sleep,” sought to fulfill the apostle’s call. They strove to ensure that prayer was truly offered unceasingly in their monasteries. Furthermore, “unceasing prayer” was often understood to mean the Jesus Prayer, the practice of which is discussed in the course on Asceticism. However, there is a tradition in the history of patristic theology of interpreting these words of the Apostle in a moral sense. Thus, St. Anastasius of Sinai was asked: “How are we to understand the Apostle’s words if it is impossible for a person living in the world and caring for a household and children to pray unceasingly?” Responding to this perplexity, St. Anastasius of Sinai says: “The Apostle is speaking here not at all of prayer uttered by the lips, just as Christ says: ‘Not everyone who says to Me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but the one who does the will of Him who sent Me’ (Matt. 7:21; John 6:38–40). And therefore, whoever constantly does good—whether by performing acts of charity or by fulfilling other ministries for God—is the one who prays unceasingly. For one can pray on one’s bed, on the road, at the table, in the marketplace, and in any place”[5] .
The content of prayer is also very important. Since ancient times, it has been natural for people to turn to God with requests. These requests were often quite mundane and practical in nature. Whatever a person needed, whether material or spiritual, they could ask God for it. Even in the Old Testament, the subjects of petitions could range from the simplest to the most exalted things. The New Testament exhortation “not to worry” about what to eat or wear encouraged a striving toward the kingdom, but did not forbid a person from thinking about their present needs. The essence of what Christ was saying was not a prohibition of all worldly things, but a shift in focus, which was usually directed solely toward the worldly. Everything that filled the life of an Israelite was to be connected to God, everything directed toward Him. At the same time, everything a person truly needs, all his activities, can be surrounded by prayer (Eph 6:17–20). As already mentioned, in the Lord’s Prayer, Christ Himself calls on the apostles to ask for their daily bread.
Every request that a person makes to God must be right and good (Matt. 7:11). It has already been said that a person must ask with faith, but faith in this case cannot be reduced merely to the certainty that God will not refuse; it must become in harmony with Him (Matt. 21:22; James 1:5). And if He sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous, then the prayer of His disciple must become an intercession for all (Rom. 15:30; 1 Thess. 5:25; 2 Thess. 3:1; James 5:14–18), must encompass the living and the dead, and even enemies (Matt. 5:44).
Finally, in a moral context, prayers of thanksgiving—and especially prayers of praise—play a crucial role. They serve as a testimony that a person has not merely placed their trust in God or simply acquiesced to His will, but has also been spiritually transformed. From the state of Adam, who hides in terror from God among the trees of paradise, a person moves on to the state of a son and gains heartfelt joy from the fact that God exists and reveals Himself to him for communion.
[1] On the Orthodox Faith 3, 24 PG 1089c
[2] Sofroniy (Sakharov), Archimandrite Venerable Silouan the Athonite. — 3rd ed. — STSL, 2011. — p. 263
[3] The texts of the prayers coincide in part, which gives rise to various assumptions about their origin, but in the context of moral theology this is irrelevant.
[4] Prayer 2, Antiphon / Prayer from the Ambo.
[5] Anastasius of Sinai, the Venerable. Questions and Answers / Translated from the Greek, with an introductory article and commentary by A. I. Sidorov. — Moscow: Sibirskaya Blagozvonnitsa, 2015. — p. 106
The Sermon on the Mount is undoubtedly the focal point of the entire moral teaching of the Lord Jesus Christ. In the context of Moral Theology, questions regarding the origin of the sermon and its relationship to the “Sermon on the Plain” do not appear to be significant.
If we compare the legislation at Sinai with the Sermon on the Mount, we can observe several important nuances that testify to the essential difference between these events. Thus, while Moses, in order to receive God’s law, ascended the mountain alone and then descended to the people, who were forbidden even to approach the mountain, Christ acts quite differently. When He ascends the mountain and sits down to teach, “His disciples” come to Him so that He might “teach them” (Matt. 5:1–2). The difference in circumstances clearly testifies to the changes taking place. In the Old Testament, God gives commandments but remains inaccessible “in the darkness” into which Moses enters. In the New Testament, God becomes human and not only reveals Himself to the disciples but also allows them to ascend the mountain, which symbolizes spiritual height.
At the same time, alongside the disciples are those whom the evangelist calls “the people,” who are not disciples. Among them were those who simply sought healing, and those who were waiting for a sign. Finally, there were those who were confused and offended by His words. It is no coincidence that at the end of the sermon the evangelist writes that “the crowds were amazed” at His teaching, because “He taught them as one who had authority” (Matt. 7). What, then, is the point? Whom was Christ teaching? His disciples? If so, already at the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew, we see those who seek to be disciples and those who “having ears, do not hear,” a point the Savior would later address on more than one occasion. This circumstance clearly points to the specific nature of the moral paradigm revealed by Christ. The message is addressed to all, and the path of discipleship is open to every person, even to those who “showed disobedience in the days of Noah.” However, even those who stand nearby have the opportunity to respond differently to His words, becoming disciples who hear and listen, or remaining a people who “marvel” at the power of His words.
As we study the moral content of the Sermon on the Mount, we will turn first to the Beatitudes.
It may seem surprising, but by no means do all courses in Moral Theology include a study of the Beatitudes. In the 20th century, Western Protestant scholarship debated the role of the Beatitudes in human moral life, raising doubts about their feasibility. Noting the eschatological nature of these “commandments,” many authors considered them irrelevant to Christian moral teaching. Indeed, while the Law of Moses presupposed that certain actions must be performed and others categorically prohibited, the Beatitudes emphasize the state to which a person must attain. They do not so much command, much less prescribe; rather, they testify to blessedness as the actual state of those who follow Christ. Commenting on these debates, V. Guroyan points out that in the Orthodox tradition, the Beatitudes are part of the Liturgy, which is itself an eschatological meal, the participants of which share in the Kingdom. He writes: “In this sacred and liturgical setting, the Beatitudes possess such irresistible appeal not because they are metaphysically or epistemologically validated prescriptions, but because they have an eschatological orientation, being revealed in the Person in whom the Kingdom of God is present. Nor do these commandments represent ideals that transform a person. On the contrary, they are that in which Christians participate and into which they are transformed whenever they unite themselves with Christ through baptism and the Eucharist”[1]. A distinctive feature of the Orthodox understanding of the Beatitudes, as well as of the entire moral life, is that they are not part of a didactic program or educational plan that must be put into practice for salvation.
Turning to the Beatitudes themselves, it is worth paying attention to the words and constructions used by the evangelist. In reconstructing[2] the Saviour’s speech, modern scholars believe that, when speaking of blessedness, Christ used the word אַשְׁרֵי (‘ashréi), which translates as “blessedness, good, wealth.” At the same time, the Greek word μακαριος is also translated as “blessed, happy, rich.” It is noteworthy that the Jewish concept of blessedness almost always refers to people and often implies the moral, inner well-being of one who is connected to God, who is guided by Him, and who lives blamelessly. For example, the very first psalm says: “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked”(Ps 1:1; cf. Ps 33:9, 39:5, 105:3, 111:1, etc.). At the same time, the Greek term primarily referred to the gods and implied a state of complete peace, safety, and security.
However, even a cursory reading of the Beatitudes shows that Christ calls blessed those whom, from the world’s perspective, can in no way be called happy or fortunate. In the Christian sense, blessedness can combine these meanings in the sense that the blessed are those who are rooted in goodness, who have attained inner peace and joy that cannot be destroyed by external causes.
Thus, addressing His disciples, the Savior says:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3).____
The Greek word πτωχός, which the evangelist uses, denotes not merely poverty, but extreme destitution. In turn, in the Hebrew language there were quite a few synonyms that were close in meaning to the word “poor.” Traditionally, it is said that there was a special kind of poor person, called עָנִי (ʕānî), who placed all his hopes solely in God. Thus, the author of the Book of Proverbs says: “Blessed is the poor man who walks in his integrity” (Prov. 19:1).
Standing before the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, Eve—and Adam after her—decided that they would be capable of living independently on earth. In doing so, they made the “earthly” the focus of their lives. As a result, man began to rely on himself, on the fruits of his labor, and on people like himself. However, man, having failed to maintain his accountability before God, became unreliable in his ways. Despite the desire for accountability and what we would today call a business reputation, man cannot fully rely on either himself or another person. Realizing this, the psalmist exhorts: “Do not put your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation” (Ps 145:3). On the contrary, “Blessed is the one whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God” (Ps 145:5). Although material blessings do indeed sometimes make people more self-reliant, the problem, of course, lies not in the blessings themselves, but in the mindset of the person who sees them as his main support. All this is the legacy of that proud self- deception that took root in the human soul as far back as the Fall and manifested itself almost immediately in the fact that our first parents made themselves loincloths. By continuing to rely on himself, a person simply proves incapable of letting God into his life. He may acknowledge God’s existence and even turn to Him for help, yet he will still pursue his own goals, guided by his own understanding of life and its meaning. Thus, the one who is poor in spirit is the one who, in the depths of his being—in his attitude toward life, toward himself, and toward others—recognizes his inner poverty and relies on God. This does not mean that he does nothing; on the contrary, he may take an active stance, but everything he does, he does together with God.
By renouncing false notions of self and opening one’s heart to God, a person can experience an encounter that becomes for them an experience of participation in the Kingdom of Heaven. However, just as in the synagogue at Nazareth, Christ does not speak in this commandment of something future, but implies the manifestation of the Kingdom in the present. People who live in hope of God will finally be comforted.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.(Matt. 5:4)__
Turning to this commandment, it is worth noting first of all that the verb πενθέω does not simply mean weeping, but very deep sorrow. At the same time, it is clear that we are not simply talking about some physiological reaction, but about a spiritual state. Turning to the Old Testament, we see that the word used by the evangelist can mean weeping for the dead (Gen. 23:2, 37:4), but it also refers to the penitential weeping of the inhabitants of Jerusalem (Isa 66:10), or more broadly of the people (Hos 4:3), or of the land as a whole (Jer 4:28, Lam 1:4). The essence of this weeping or lamentation is that because of sins and wickedness, the Lord has turned away from His people. In turn, this means that the comfort of which Christ speaks is the return of God’s mercy, which is linked to repentance.
Of course, the very concepts of repentance and reconciliation with God were already well known in the Old Testament. While in captivity, the people experienced such repentance, returned to the Promised Land, and rebuilt the temple. However, among the devout Israelites were people who were called “those who wait for the comfort of Israel.” These people were not simply waiting to return to their land or to be freed from the rule of the invaders. They were waiting for the Messiah, because they understood that after the Fall, the issue was not one of temporary comfort, but rather that the sinful condition of man, wherever he might live, would not allow him to find true comfort.
If these people, who knew the Scriptures well and understood perfectly who the mourners were, were waiting for comfort from the Lord, it was comfort that was to come in the future. Christ says that those who mourn will be comforted, and it seems that in this instance He does not associate this comfort with Himself at all. However, in reality, for many listeners, this connection is obvious. In order to see this connection, we must turn to the passage from Isaiah that Christ read in the synagogue at Nazareth. Thus, the Messiah speaks through the prophet: “The Lord has anointed Me to preach good news to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord” (Luke 4:18–19). Christ Himself stopped there, but those who know the Scriptures should have remembered that Isaiah mentions one more thing among the works of the Messiah: “to comfort all who mourn (πενθουντας)” (Isa 61:1-2). It is noteworthy that, for Isaiah himself, only the Lord can truly comfort, for He says: “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; and you will be comforted in Jerusalem” (Isa 66:13).
Thus, the mourners of whom Christ speaks are those who await the consolation of Israel, as, indeed, are all those who strive to overcome the imperfection that exists in the world. The comfort revealed to them is the coming of the Messiah, who says: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. (Matt. 5:5)__
The third beatitude is practically a verbatim quotation from Psalm 36: “But the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace” (Ps. 36:11).
The noun πραΰς, which the evangelist uses, is translated as “meek, calm, restrained, gentle, mild.” Referring to the Old Testament context allows us to note that the adjective עָנִי (ʕānî) is translated as “oppressed, afflicted, humble, and meek.” Meekness is close in meaning to the concept of humility. This word is first used in the Book of Numbers: “Now Moses was a very humble man, more so than anyone else on the face of the earth” (Num. 12:3). At the same time, God, addressing Aaron and Miriam, emphasizes that He spoke to no other prophet as He spoke to Moses, because with him He spoke “face to face.” The reason for this is that Moses was “faithful in all things” (Num. 12:7). If, after the Fall—as a manifestation of unfaithfulness to God—man was driven by his false fantasy about himself, then the one who is faithful is the one who does not think of himself more highly than God intended for him. As the New Adam, Christ calls Himself “meek and humble” precisely because, unlike the old Adam, He fulfills the Will of the Heavenly Father. This means that, in a moral sense, the meek are those who recognize in God’s will the true reality of themselves and strive to live up to it.
Undoubtedly, in the context of the Old Testament, the meek were to inherit the promised land. Thus, the psalmist says that God “guides the meek in righteousness and teaches the meek His ways” (Ps 24:9), and concludes the psalm with the affirmation that the offspring of such a person “shall inherit the earth” (Ps 24:13). However, in the context of the New Testament, it is precisely those who live within the realm of God’s will, according to His promise, who await “new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness dwells” (2 Pet. 3:13).
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. (Matt. 5:6)__
The words πεινάω and διψάω, which are translated as “hunger and thirst” in a figurative context, often denote a passionate desire for anything. Furthermore, a distinctive feature of these words is that they denote a very intense action associated with yearning or suffering from the absence of the object of desire. When discussing them, it is usually emphasized that grammatically, in the original, the commandment is formulated such that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness (accusative case instead of genitive) seek not some part of righteousness, but righteousness in its entirety.
However, when addressing this commandment to a Russian-speaking reader, it is difficult to avoid legal connotations. This is because, until the 17th century, the word “pravda” was often used to mean justice. Indeed, the evangelist conveys the Savior’s words and uses the word δικαιοσύνη, which can actually be translated as “justice” and even “legality.” At the same time, it is evident that Christ Himself used the word צְדָקָה (ṣḏāqā h), which more often signifies righteousness, as conformity to God’s will. God is righteous by nature and therefore just, but His justice is not the justice of the polis, which is social and egalitarian in nature; it resembles mercy far more than the operation of a blind law of retribution.
After the Fall, true righteousness proves impossible for man (Eccl 7:20). By making covenants with Noah, Abraham, and Moses, God gradually restores the knowledge of righteousness in man, but without Christ this righteousness cannot be complete. By saying that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled, the Savior implies that people who long for righteousness with all their hearts will be able to attain it. Later in the New Testament, the Apostle Paul will write about this in detail, speaking of the justification of believers, which takes place in Christ. It is important to note that for Christ, the very passionate pursuit of righteousness is the foundation of blessedness. In a practical sense, a person’s righteousness is based on faith (Gen. 15:6), keeping the commandments (John 14:21, Rev. 22:11), and results in salvation and perfection (Heb. 12:23).
At the same time, the personal aspect of the pursuit of truth as righteousness should not preclude the fact that those who hunger for truth also long for God to intervene in history and manifest His truth over the world. At the same time, the desire for everything to be according to God’s righteousness could mean, for the Pharisees, their own justification; for the Zealots, the coming of a political leader who would restore Israel’s glory; whereas for God Himself, the manifestation of His righteousness is revealed in Christ (Rom. 1:17) and consists in the justification and forgiveness of believers (Rom. 3:25–26, Heb. 8:12). Without the desire for Truth to be revealed on a cosmic scale, the pursuit of personal righteousness could not be complete and fruitful, but might instead become a motive for vengeance.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. (Matt. 5:7)__
Each of the Beatitudes points to a particular aspect of the path that a person travels on the way to salvation. Having realized their condition and mourning it, thinking no more of themselves than God intended for them, and striving for righteousness, Christ’s disciples are called to be merciful.
The word ἐλεήμων, used by the evangelist, is translated as “gracious, merciful, compassionate.” It is noteworthy that in the Old Testament, God Himself calls Himself gracious: “And the Lord passed before him and proclaimed: ‘The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful (רַחוּם / raḥûm) and gracious (חַנּוּן /ḥannûn), slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (חֶ֫סֶד /ḥéseḏ), and faithful’” (Ex 34:6). The passage uses three words that can be translated as “merciful and compassionate,” but only the last of them is used simultaneously to denote both divine and human mercy. This word is interesting in that, depending on the context, it can be translated as either mercy or faithfulness. The combination of these meanings in a single word shows that the relationship between two or more connected individuals is right if it is based on faithfulness and the mercy that arises from that faithfulness.
It
is evident that the pursuit of righteousness, of which the Savior speaks in
the previous commandment, could give rise in a person both to a sense of one’s
own righteousness (Luke 18:11) and to formalism, which breeds harshness toward
others. We may recall how the Pharisees, who also sought righteousness, spoke
of their own people: “This people, does not know the law of God; they are
accursed” (John 7:49). Moreover, Christ rebuked the Pharisees—who were
righteous in their own way—in part for having forgotten mercy. He reminded
them of the words God speaks through the prophet Hosea: “For I desire mercy,
not sacrifice, and the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings” (Hos
6:6).
Man is created in the image of God, and his mercy is a reflection of the Creator’s mercy. As has already been said, the Lord is quite often called righteous, but whoever truly knows God’s righteousness knows it as mercy, which “exceeds judgment” (James 2:13). It is no coincidence that the prophet Micah says: “Who is a God like You, who pardons iniquity and passes over the transgression of the remnant of Your heritage? He does not retain His anger forever, because He delights in mercy” (Micah 7:18). This love for showing mercy must be inherent in those who are about to judge another: “Administer just judgment, and show mercy and compassion to one another” (Zech 7:9).
So, if “God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8), then mercy depends not on whom is shown mercy, but on Who shows mercy. This is powerfully demonstrated by Christ in the parable of the debtor, in which the master forgives the debtor’s debt out of mercy, not because the debtor deserved this forgiveness. In turn, this forgiveness is meant to heal the debtor’s own soul so that he may extend mercy to those around him. By showing mercy (חֶ֫סֶד /__ḥéseḏ), a person testifies through his deeds that his heart is open to divine mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. (Matt. 5:8)
The pursuit of a pure heart was well known to people of biblical culture at least since the time of King David. Having committed a grave sin, he pleads: “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps. 50:12). The word לֵב (lēḇ) or καρδία, which is translated as “heart” in both Hebrew and Greek, could signify not only the center of all human spiritual life, but also the conscience as a specific moral awareness that pointed out to a person the sins they had committed. At the same time, the word טָהוֹר (ṭāhôr) was translated as “pure or spotless,” and the Greek καθαρός, in addition to these same meanings, could be translated as “genuine, true, free from impurities, and right.” In other words, King and Prophet David asked God for purification from the sins of his heart (conscience), which would allow him to “rejoice in salvation” (Ps 50:12) and “praise God’s righteousness” (Ps 50:16).
When using the word “purification,” it is important not to forget exactly which word the author of the psalm himself used. As is well known, in the Old Testament there are several words that mean the creation or formation of something. In asking God to create a pure heart for him, David uses the verb בָּרָא (bārā ʔ), which is always used only in those verses of the Bible where it is written that the action is performed by God Himself, and specifically when He creates something fundamentally new or anew. Of course, this usage is by no means accidental, for “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). And since this is so, only the One who created man can create a pure heart for him. Returning to the concepts of righteousness and mercy, it should be noted that the human heart is open to the purifying and healing action of God’s grace only if it is merciful. The very idea of a pure heart in society after the Fall can be associated only with the heart of one who has been forgiven, since no one can be born “pure from the unclean” (Job 14:4). Thus, the pure in heart are not those who have purified their own hearts or preserved them in their original purity, but those who, striving for truth, have shown mercy to their neighbors, thereby earning the opportunity for the purification of their own hearts. Anyone who has experienced the joy of forgiveness and reconciliation knows, at least in part, the experience of that bliss of a pure heart.
Strikingly, throughout the entire Christian tradition, from the Old Testament to the writings of the Church Fathers, a common thread runs through the idea that people with an unclean conscience cannot turn to God in prayer, for it simply will not be heard. In this context, the gift of seeing God, which is revealed to those who are pure in heart, is not so much a knowledge of Him Himself as a knowledge of His plan for the world—the plan in which this disciple is called to participate. Furthermore, there is no doubt that to those who listen to Christ, along with the revelation of the plan, the One who became incarnate to fulfill that plan will also be revealed. In Him, the disciples will see God and will be called to reveal Him to others.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. (Matt. 5:9)__
The Fall occurred at the very moment when there were only two people on earth. As we have already mentioned, it led to the separation and estrangement of our first parents. However, even though this was a separation of two, all the people who descended from them, no matter how many there are, are born into a world that is subject to self-centeredness and division. Even after the Flood, we see people who, at first glance, appear to form a certain community, but are led astray by sin and become completely estranged, so that they do not even understand one another (Gen. 11:7). The reason for this division, according to God Himself, is that “the intent of man’s heart is evil from his youth” (Gen. 8:21). Despite man’s unfaithfulness, God remains faithful to His plan and gradually, within the framework of a particular community, leads people toward a state where peaceful relations become the norm of their lives. The commandments, which speak of a special closeness among Jews, are meant to serve this purpose. At times, the law is criticized for the fact that by “neighbor” it primarily means a fellow tribesman. At the same time, it is already evident to the prophets that this is a temporary condition on the path toward the unification of all people on earth (Zech 8:23).
The Greek word εἰρηνοποιός, like the Russian “peacemaker,” consists of two roots. It is used in Scripture only once, specifically in the Sermon on the Mount. However, the verb εἰρηνοποιέω appears three times, which is translated as “to make peace, to bring peace.” The roots that make up the word are very often found separately in Scripture. Thus, the word שָׁלוֹם (šālôm), like its Greek equivalent εἰρήνη, is translated as “peace, safety, tranquility, well-being.” In turn, the verb ποιέω means “to create, to produce, to accomplish.” In a theological sense, the concept of peace is extremely important, because it implies not merely the absence of war, but the peace of God, the fullness of spiritual and material blessings, and a state of grace among people in which there is no eternal division or enmity. In Scripture, God is the source of peace among people. As with purity of heart, human beings alone are incapable of true peacemaking.
As was the case with Old Testament Israel, in the New Testament peacemaking begins with peaceful relations within a specific community, which is associated with the New Israel and is called the Church. Unlike the Old Testament community of believers, the New Testament Church is not limited by ethnic boundaries and is called to unite all people. The source of peace in the community of disciples is Christ Himself. Addressing them, He says: “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you” (John 14:27) and, a little later, turns to the Father with a prayer for a special unity among the disciples: “Holy Father! Keep them in your name, those whom you have given me, so that they may be one, just as we are.” (John 17:11) Moreover, the apostle affirms that Christ dies in order to “gather together the scattered children of God” (John 11:52). Likewise, the Apostle Paul addresses the church in Ephesus, to former pagans, with joyful words about Christ: “For He is our peace, who has made the two one and has broken down the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances… that He might create in Himself one new man from the two, thus making peace” (Eph 2:14,15). The apostles begin and end their epistles with the wish for “grace and peace,” and use the expression “God of peace,” which is traditionally understood as “God who brings about peace” (Rom 15:33, Heb 13:20).
Christ speaks of the blessedness of peacemakers, who will be called sons of God. At the same time, since the disciples’ peacemaking originates from Him, the gift of sonship (the glorious gift of adoption) or adoption, which Christians receive in the sacrament of baptism, also originates from Him. However, like any state to which the disciples are called, they must creatively assimilate it in order to become peacemakers in the image of Christ Himself. Addressing the Colossians, the apostle writes: “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which you were called in one body, and be kind to one another” (Col 3:15). In striving for personal righteousness, disciples must not forget that “the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace” (Jas 3:18; cf. Heb 12:14)
Every Christian, at their own level, must serve the true unity of people in God: “Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it” (1 Pet 3:11).
However, this goal is truly attainable only through inner, ascetic self- discipline. In striving for external peace, disciples must attain peace within their own souls and learn to maintain peaceful relationships with those around them. The Savior’s words: “In everything, do unto others as you would have them do unto you” testify that the disciples’ peacemaking begins with their treating their neighbors with love. This is precisely what St. Seraphim of Sarov speaks of: “Acquire a peaceful spirit, and thousands around you will be saved.”
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. (Matt. 5:10)__
The first expulsion we encounter in Holy Scripture is God’s expulsion of our first parents from the Garden of Eden. The essence of what happened is that sinners cannot remain in communion with the Holy God, for His presence is painful to them. Adam, fleeing from his former Companion behind the trees of paradise, can no longer perceive this place as a place of joyful communion. After Adam, Cain applies the word “expulsion” to himself; he says to God: “Behold, You are driving me out this day from the face of the earth, and from Your face I shall be hidden; and I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth” (Gen. 4:14). Adam’s expulsion, like Cain’s, can be considered a kind of archetype of expulsion in general. In both cases, the exile is a criminal whose actions or condition are incompatible with remaining in a particular community. However, given that the entire history of humanity is the history of exiles and their descendants, the situation soon turns around. When people appeared in their midst who were called by God to holiness, they were either forced to leave on their own, like Abraham, or suffered abuse, like Lot. It is noteworthy that, speaking of the exodus of the Jews from Egypt, God specifically calls it an expulsion (Ex 11:1). Thus, exile, which was originally a marker of unworthiness and failure to meet the standard of righteousness, becomes, in a society of pagans and sinners, a sign of the righteousness of those being exiled—a sign that they do not conform to a society where sin has become the norm of life.
God’s chosen people were called to righteousness and holiness. Having given the Jews the law, God addresses them with a warning: “Keep My statutes and My laws, and do not commit any of these abominations… for all these abominations were committed by the people of this land who were before you, and the land became defiled; so that the land may not cast you out from it” (Lev. 18:26–28). However, the people did not always remember these words of the Lord and were often punished, becoming exiles from their own land, resembling the nations whom God had previously driven out of it. One may recall David, who in his speech to Saul testifies that exile can take various forms: “If the Lord has stirred you up against me, let this be a pleasing offering to Him; but if it is the sons of men, may they be cursed before the Lord, for they have driven me out today so that I may not have a share in the Lord’s inheritance” (1 Sam 26:19).
Addressing His disciples, Christ calls blessed those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake. In the context of Jewish history, this can refer only to those people who sought to live by the commandments, despite the society that surrounded them. They bore witness to the life intended by God and served as a support and example to those who doubted. They are worthy of the Kingdom because they sought to live by the laws of the Kingdom in this world.
Blessed are you when they revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on My account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven; for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matt. 5:11–12)
To understand the full paradox of these last commandments, it is worth recalling that in the worldview of the Jews of that time, prosperity was one of the signs of righteousness and God’s blessing. This is quite evident from the Book of Proverbs or from the accusations that Job’s friends leveled against him. Addressing his son, the author of Proverbs says: “The stubbornness of the ignorant will be the cause of their death, and the carelessness of fools will destroy them, but whoever listens to me will live in safety and peace, without fear of harm” (Prov. 1:32–33). Of course, the same book of Proverbs states that “better is the poor who walks in his integrity than [the rich man] with lying lips” (Prov. 19:1), but still, an honest man had reason to expect a reward for his honesty. It is precisely this idea that is linked to the feelings of the apostles, who, upon hearing the counsel given to the rich young man: “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me, taking up your cross” (Mark 10:21), were filled with dread (Mark 10:24). Their consternation was so great that Peter literally felt compelled to clarify: “Behold, we have left everything and followed You” (Mark 10:28). Although Christ speaks in response of a reward amid persecution and in the age to come, they “were terrified and, following Him, were afraid” (Mark 10:32). It is worth remembering that this conversation took place shortly before His crucifixion, death, and resurrection.
However, the Beatitudes are found in one of the Savior’s earliest sermons, in which He hides nothing. Moreover, unlike His answer to Peter that reward would follow righteous suffering, here He directly links “blessedness” in time with “persecution and reproach”—not merely for “righteousness,” which would be understandable in the context of the Old Testament, but for Him personally. This final commandment reveals the full meaning of the spiritual path to which the Savior calls. And this is not merely the moral or spiritual perfection offered by many in the world; it is a deep connection with Him personally, because only in Him, in His divine-human nature, is the path opened to people toward the goal for which they were created.
Given that the word “blessedness” clearly carries a meaning associated with “peace and serenity,” the disciples should have been astonished by the very idea of the possibility of combining “joy” and “suffering,” but in truth they had not yet heard Him. This is precisely how James and John did not hear Him; after the prediction of His crucifixion, they approached Him and asked to sit at His right and left hands in the coming Kingdom. It is no coincidence that Christ tells them they do not understand what they are asking for. In order to hear the joy of the last commandment, one must walk the path and grow spiritually. Later, after the Resurrection, Christ spoke with Peter about his apostleship. Alluding to his betrayal, He said to him: “When you were young, you used to gird yourself and walk where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go” (John 21:18). The evangelist adds: “He said this to indicate by what kind of death Peter would glorify God” (John 21:19). During his time with the Savior, Peter traveled a certain spiritual path that began with fear but ended in the joy of martyrdom. This, of course, was not a joy derived from pain and suffering, but the joy of a clear conscience, stemming from the fact that he had remained faithful to the Teacher and Lord, faithful to the love that He had commanded.
As is well known, statements that speak of a reward for faithfulness are often met with skepticism, as they are seen as potentially motivated by a desire for personal gain. However, by turning to the Old Testament context, we can see that the concepts of joy and gladness are almost always associated with a special state of being, the essence of which lies in peace and communion with God (Ps 50:10, Isa 51:3, Neh 12:43, Jer 15:16). At the same time, the Hebrew word שָׂכָר (śāḵār) or the Greek μισθός means not only a reward but also a punishment, and implies a certain outcome or result of the work done. In other words, addressing people of Old Testament culture and using imagery they could understand, the Savior says that the result of spiritual labor and the faithfulness that follows it will be joy and gladness from a completely new relationship with God, one that did not and could not exist before. For the people of the Old Testament, heaven was completely unattainable, because it was perceived as the dwelling place of God (Ps 122:1, Amos 9:6). However, the culmination of the Christian’s spiritual life is precisely in heaven (ἐν τοις ουρανός); this is not only the Kingdom of Heaven triumphing on earth, but also man’s ascent to unity with God “in Christ Jesus” (Eph 2:4–6).
[1]__Guroyan, V. Incarnate Love. Essays on Orthodox Ethics. — Moscow: St. Andrew the Apostle Biblical-Theological Institute, 2002. — p. 78.
[2] Where possible, we will provide examples of such a reconstruction.
As is well known, practically from the very beginning of its existence, the Church had to contend with various Gnostic teachings. Despite all their differences, Gnostics were united by the conviction that the teachings of Jesus, as well as the Covenant of which He speaks, have no connection to the God of the Old Testament. In turn, for both the Savior and, later, His disciples, the spiritual and moral continuity between the Old and New Testaments was of fundamental importance.
In the book of Deuteronomy, Moses speaks of God sending His people a prophet like himself, who would be the Messiah. In order to demonstrate to the Jews that Jesus of Nazareth is the prophet promised by Moses, the evangelist Matthew structures his account of Christ so that it preserves the most important features of Moses’ life. Just as Moses spent forty days on the mountain, the Savior spent forty days in the desert. Just as Moses, after his stay on the mountain, returns to the people and proclaims God’s law to them, so too, upon returning from the desert, Christ gathers his disciples and delivers the Sermon on the Mount, in which he supplements and fulfills the commandments given at Sinai.
Studies of Jewish literature and the oral tradition of that time suggest that in His sermons , Christ uses contemporary vocabulary and common idioms—that is, He speaks in a language understandable to those around Him. Furthermore, the Savior’s language constantly contains imagery characteristic of Old Testament literature. He performs deeds that allow the evangelists to speak of the fulfillment of “what was spoken through the prophets” (Matt. 4:14, 13:35). From the Gospel texts themselves, it is evident that the Savior attended the synagogues on the Sabbaths, visited the temple, observed the feasts, and paid the prescribed taxes—that is, He often observed the law and acted entirely within the framework of tradition. Moreover, in the Sermon on the Mount itself, He explicitly states His position regarding the law: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matt. 5:17). Traditionally, when commenting on these words, attention is drawn to the verb πληρόω, which signifies not only fulfillment but also the revelation of the original meaning.
However, using plain language, He says things that raise questions and bewilderment, so that people say, “Never has a man spoken like this man…” (John 7:46). For His part, Christ Himself often says that He uses parables specifically so that those who have ears to hear may hear. Here, “hearing” is understood not as a passive position of the recipient, but as an active position of the listener who obeys His word, which always contains “not only an element of theological revelation, but also guidance for action”[1]. At the same time, the very action implied by Christ’s words sometimes shocks the apostles (Matt. 19:10). Thus, without opposing Moses, He says that the law permitting divorce was given to people out of hardness of heart and was originally meant to be different (Matt. 19:8). ****
Theological Foundations of the Moral Life __
The continuity between the New and Old Testaments naturally gives rise to continuity in the moral sphere as well. People who perceived Jesus as one of the prophets were ultimately to see in Him the Prophet of whom God had said to Moses, “I will raise up for them a Prophet from among their brothers, like you, and I will put My words in His mouth, and He will tell them everything I command Him” (Deut. 18:17–18) However, He could not be seen merely as a new lawgiver, because the human condition after the Fall was not limited to a reluctance to observe moral norms. The logic of the Sinai legislation was that man should learn faithfulness to the covenant. Its essence was that the people entered into a personal relationship with God and therefore had to conform to His holiness, which on a practical level was expressed in the observance of the corresponding laws. At the same time, these laws remained an external requirement, meaning that people had to internalize them, making the commandments the substance of their hearts.
However, the essence of the Fall and the subsequent moral degradation of humanity was not that people had become formally guilty of violating some norm. Given that guilt was a state brought about by human choice, Christ’s work was not to renew the law, but to restore humanity, returning to them the ability to live in accordance with the Creator’s will.
Christ often speaks of “His commandments.” Given that the law by which the Jews were called to live was not invented by Moses but was given directly by God, by calling the commandments “His,” Christ is clearly speaking of His divine dignity. The logic of the law seems similar to that of the Old Testament: the relationship between God and man naturally leads to the performance of certain actions and the avoidance of others. The Savior says, “If you love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15). However, it is quite evident that this is not merely about new commandments, but about a new relationship. In the Old Testament, God says: “I have seen the affliction of My people… I know their sorrows, and I have come down to deliver them” (Exod 3:7–8). So far, the focus is on temporary deliverance from “the hand of the Egyptians,” but not on deliverance from spiritual Egypt, that is, slavery to sin. In the New Testament, Christ calls His disciples to love, but He “first loved us” (1 John 4:19), and the nature of His love is entirely unique. When He calls His disciples to “abide” in His love, He is referring to the love of the cross, because “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).
In this context, the moral life is understood not so much as a condition as a natural consequence of man’s new, restored state.
General Features of New Testament Morality __
In light of all the above, the following characteristics of New Testament ethics are highlighted:
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New Testament morality, like Old Testament morality, is connected with faith in the One Holy and Righteous God, who created man in His own image and likeness and called him to holiness and righteousness. Within the framework of the New Testament gospel, it is directly linked to the dogmatic teaching on the divinity and humanity of Jesus Christ and on deification as the goal of human life.
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New Testament ethics ceases to be an ethics of prescriptions and becomes an ethics of a healed conscience that speaks within the human soul. It is no coincidence that God, even in the Old Testament, speaks through the prophet Jeremiah: “Behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord, “when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah—not like the covenant I made with their fathers on the day I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt; for they broke My covenant, though I remained in alliance with them,” says the Lord. But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them and write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. (Jer. 31:33).
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The novelty of Christ’s moral teaching does not lie in the fact that He gives a new law. Emphasizing the novelty of His teaching on this one occasion, the Savior says: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; just as I have loved you, so you also are to love one another” (John 13:34). This means that the novelty of the commandment lies not in its verbal formulation, but in the fact that the love with which the disciples are to love one another must be rooted in the cruciform love of Christ Himself. The novelty of this commandment is the novelty of “Christ’s tomb” (John 19:41), which, through sacrificial love, has become the source of our resurrection. This is precisely why the apostle calls the path that the disciples now walk with boldness “new and living,” which is given “through the blood of Jesus Christ” (Heb. 10:19). And this is precisely why, when speaking of the “new man,” the apostle emphasizes that this is a “new creation in Christ” (2 Cor. 5:17; cf. Eph. 2:15, Col. 3:10).
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The ontological nature of New Testament ethics determines a new understanding of the Old Testament law and allows us to distinguish between what is primary and what is secondary within it. It may seem that Christ often sets Himself in opposition to the law, but in reality, in such cases He points to those commandments that were either given “out of hard-heartedness” (Mark 10:5), or are of a disciplinary nature and do not possess absolute value, such as the commandments regarding the Sabbath (Mark 2:27) and prayer in the temple (John 4:22–23). The only thing the Savior clearly condemns are traditions that take precedence and replace the commandments (Matt. 15:13). In other words, the commandments given to Moses differ not only in content but also in terms of significance. Thus, when speaking of the commandments related to tithing, He does not reject them, but points out the unacceptability of people neglecting what is most important in the law: “justice, mercy, and faith” (Matt. 23:23). These three commandments likely represented the three previous covenants in human history: the covenant with Noah, Abraham, and Moses. In turn, the commandment of love becomes the central commandment in the New Testament. However, the issue is not so much that the Pharisees had neglected something, but that all their righteousness—no matter how meticulously they sought to observe the law—was insufficient for the Kingdom of Heaven. This is precisely why it must not only be reinterpreted but also surpassed (Matt. 5:20).
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The communal nature of Old Testament ethics implied that the people stood before God in a certain original tribal or ethnic unity, from which the concept of human individuality gradually emerged. Developing on the basis of the ethics of “the Law and the Prophets,” the New Testament moral paradigm leads to a reinterpretation of the idea of God’s people in spiritual terms. Whereas previously individual personalities emerged from a single ethnic group, seeking to make sense of their lives through a path of personal spiritual growth (Ps 142:8), now individuals from different ethnic groups—“those far off and those near” (Eph 2:17)—Jews and Greeks—become a new people and, without losing their individuality “as living stones,” build themselves into a “spiritual house” (1 Pet 2:5).
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The disciples live in the world, though they are not of the world (John 17:16). They are still on their way to the Kingdom (Matt. 6:33), and it is already “within [or in the midst of] them” (Luke 17:21). This means that, morally speaking, they must act in the world according to the laws of the Kingdom. Just as the Jews of old were called to come out from among the Gentiles and separate themselves from them in order to become holy and God’s own (Lev. 20:26), Christ’s disciples are called to come out from among sinners (2 Cor 6:17), but, unlike Old Testament Israel, this separation must be specifically moral and spiritual in nature and must not imply opposition. Every person, regardless of their faith, must be regarded as a neighbor whom the disciple is called to love as oneself. It is precisely this active love of Christ’s disciples that must become the light that shines upon all.
[1] Protopresbyter L. Griliches “No one ever spoke like this man”: the Savior’s moral teachings in the context of early Judaism // Life in Christ (VI International Theological Conference of the Russian Orthodox Church), Synodal Biblical and Theological Commission, — 2012, — p. 638
In the article “Ethics and Dogmatics,” S.N. Trubetskoy wrote: “In the Gospel, there are no commandments separate from one another, or, more precisely, every single commandment, every single word of Christ, is so closely connected with the entire Gospel that for a sincere believer, the whole law, all the rules of life, are contained in the one image of Christ”[1]. This means that all Christian morality can be reduced to one main principle: a person is called to be a disciple of Christ. True, unlike traditional discipleship, which is characteristic of philosophical or other religious movements, in Christianity this means not only striving to conform to Him, but in a deeper sense striving for unity with Him.
People often view the goals of the Christian life as more down-to-earth, or at least more focused on the inner world of the individual. One imagines an ideal and strives to live up to it, working on oneself like an artist creating a work of art. Without denying the importance of such inner work, Christianity emphasizes that the final word in this work on the person always belongs to God, who, through the mysterious and grace-filled life of the Church, brings disciples into the Kingdom of Heaven.
In the very first pages of the Gospel, the Savior appears as a teacher of the Word. Before acting as He did, the disciples, as those “who have ears to hear,” had to take in His teaching. Thus, addressing those who believed in Him, He says: “If you abide in My word, you are truly My disciples” (John 8:31). It is noteworthy that even during the Sermon on the Mount, surrounded by a large crowd, He spoke “lifting up His eyes to His disciples” (Luke 6:20). Moreover, they not only listened but also asked questions, striving to understand. Thus, it is known that sometimes they asked Him to explain the meaning of a parable (Matt. 13:36), and sometimes Christ, on His own initiative, “explained everything to them in private” (Mark 4:34).
In the context of what they wanted to learn, prayer deserves special mention. Being Jews and having the commandment to recite various prayers, the disciples saw Christ praying and asked Him, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1).
The essence of the teaching that Christ imparts, both in word and deed, is that a person should do the will of the Heavenly Father. Its fulfillment is the primary condition for salvation (Matt. 7:11). Using the image of food, which always signifies the foundation of human life, the Savior says: “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to finish His work” (John 4:34). If this aspiration is absent, and instead there is a desire to live according to one’s own will, any sin becomes possible.
Christ’s oral preaching consists in revealing to people the true Image of God as Father (cf. John 17:6). This image was distorted after the Fall and was gradually revealed in “the Law and the Prophets.” Only the knowledge of “the one true God” (John 17:3) opens up for a person the possibility of repentance and the reformation of life; that is, it makes morality as such possible and justified.
In addition to his oral preaching, Christ demonstrates the fulfillment of God’s will through his very life. He says: “I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (John 13:15). Moreover, the disciples must not only follow His example; they must have “the same mindset as was in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 2:5). The meaning of this identity, however, is not mere imitation, nor is it that the disciples lose their individual characteristics; the meaning of this identity lies in love. It is love that becomes the distinguishing feature of the disciples, as the Savior unambiguously states: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35).
However, the world in which the disciples will act “lies in wickedness” (1 John 5:19). Christ sends them “as sheep among wolves” (Matt. 10:16) so that they may proclaim the reality of the new life that is revealed to the world in Christ. But precisely because this new life presupposes love among people, whereas the life of the world presupposes enmity, the disciples, in their striving, find themselves opposed to it. The Savior tells them just that: “If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hates you” (John 15:19).
In turn, all this means that to be a disciple of Christ is to follow Him to the cross. The Savior tells His disciples: “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me” (Matt. 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 14:27). Far from always being a real instrument of execution in history, as in the early centuries of the Church, this cross has always entailed the feat of self-denial (Luke 14:33) in order to enter into the realm of unity in the image of God. Knowing that the essence of sin lies in separation from God and from one another, the Apostle Paul writes that Christ reconciles people to God “through the cross, having put to death the hostility in it” (Eph 2:16) so that in this new, grace-filled unity they might become “God’s dwelling place in the Spirit” (Eph 2:22).
The Apostle writes that “Christ suffered for us, leaving us an example, so that we might follow in His footsteps” (1 Pet. 2:21). At the same time, it is important to remember that we are not alone on our journey, for “a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine” (John 15:4–5). This means that the Savior is not only our Teacher and example, but also the source of our moral life.
[1]Trubetskoy, S. N. Ethics and Dogmatics / S. N. Trubetskoy // Questions of Philosophy and Psychology. - Moscow, 1895. - Vol. VI, No. 4 (29). - p. 493
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