NOTES for Mat 6:1-6

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

Each of us can recall many examples of how setting aside a small share from the surplus of wealth became a form of self-advertising. One is tempted to speak about such people in the sharpest terms. Much can be said about crumbs that cannot satisfy all who are in need, and about laundering unjust income through showy charity...

But we should also not forget that Christ advises us not only to avoid sounding a trumpet when giving alms, but even tells the right hand to give alms secretly from the left. It is no accident that from ancient times the most honored kind of almsgiving was secret almsgiving, when only the Heavenly Father knew the name of the one who had done the good deed. But even this is not enough, because one can sound a trumpet not only in synagogues or in the streets or on television, but also inside oneself, not always noticeably to others, when we boast to ourselves and take tender delight in our own generosity and virtue. At the same time, we begin to take special pleasure in contrasting our genuine almsgiving with someone else's ostentatious kind.

It is much harder to refrain from that kind of self-admiration, but we must remember it, so that the charity that comes from us does not serve to cultivate pride and self-satisfaction in us.

There are various ways to interpret these well known words. Firstly we can understand them in such a way, that when we give alms with our left hand, we should not calculate how many we have already given before with the right hand. Secondly we can understand in such a way, that the right hand is responsible for receiving, earning money, and when we give alms with our left hand, there is no point to remember how much money we have in total. Thirdly we can also understand these words allegorically: the left hand (from the heart) stands for love, alms; and the right hand stands for righteousness, justice and truth. Then it can be a question of relationship with people here in the general view and not of alms; let love and truth not hinder one another, but complement each other. We have to choose interpretation depending on how we are directed by the Holy Spirit; - you know any reading of the Scripture will be ineffective without Holy Spirit’s guidance.

In the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord Jesus Christ decisively rejects every display of "spirituality for show." In fact, this is precisely what He rebukes the Pharisees for, and this desire to put one's spiritual life on display turns out to be the most characteristic symptom of Pharisaism. The Lord tells His disciples that anything, even the most serious things, such as prayer and almsgiving, loses its meaning if it is done not for God's sake. Reading these words, we can pay attention to our own heart: we must resist Pharisaism first of all in ourselves.

The Lord contrasts Pharisaic ostentatious piety with prayer witnessed by God alone. Praying in secret, communing with God not for show, we find God Himself in an incredible nearness no one could ever have imagined. To be alone with God is an astonishing gift of the New Covenant and an astonishing calling of Christians. When we read Christ's words about almsgiving, about love for neighbors, about service to people, it is important to remember this call to pray to the Father who is in secret. The Lord calls precisely this communion with God alone the rock on which the entire life of a Christian is founded.

In addition, it must be noted that later Byzantine versions of the Gospel add an extra word: "He will reward you openly." In the ancient manuscripts this word is absent. This means that the reward most likely does not consist in visible prosperity, the very thing the Pharisees considered obligatory. It is remarkable and very important that Christ does not say at all what God's answer consists of. For love, this does not matter. The meaning of the answer in love is contained in the answer itself.

The context, in which these words of the Savior are said, is clear: Jesus sharply objects spirituality for show specific to Pharisees (prayer, alms, fasting). Certainly, it is important for us to hear this, because we also – oh as it is not indifferent, whether people notice that we are high-spirituals. But if we step aside a little from this context, then we can see again two typical cases, when these words fall the cap fits.

One case – when we limit our devotional life by situations of common prayer. We promptly attend church services, other prayer meetings, but there is no personal, intimate prayer. We put the church, the community intermediary between God and us, being fenced off from excessive closeness to Him. But indeed intermediaries cannot be in love and excessive closeness cannot be also! Jesus reminds us today of this.

The second variant - is when we are so filled by our personal problems that we perceive any prayerful situation as a reason to lay out at once all these problems to God. Then we don’t listen attentively to worship service when being in Church, we don’t pray together with others, we think only of our own and ask only about our own, breaking down the prayerful unity of the assembly. Jesus’ words turn out to be a hint: There is a place, where to bring all our problems to God – it is our personal, “home” prayer. The church has been created for our communal standing before God.

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

Great Lent begins today. The texts we read speak about what is most important at this time, yet how far all this is from our ideas of fasting. What the prophet Joel calls "tearing the heart" always means sadness and tears for us. But the Lord gives us His answer, paradoxical at first glance, that completely overturns the picture. Purification is joy; returning to Him can and should be a feast for us; fasting is a time of reunion between the Creator and creation. A "fasting face" is a human invention for justifying one's laziness and consoling one's vanity. But the Lord calls us to tear the crust of sin from the heart so that all the filth may come out. And then our faces will shine with the joy of Great Lent.

Three times in the first half of the sixth chapter of Matthew's Gospel these words of the Savior are quoted. Let us note that He says this about almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. There is a small book by Vladimir Solovyov, "The Spiritual Foundations of Life," in which he writes about prayer, almsgiving, and fasting as the basic components of a person's righteous life. Indeed, each person's "position" in the universe is determined by his relationships along three "coordinate axes": his connection with God, his connection with other people, and his connection with nature. Prayer, almsgiving, and fasting are expressions of right relationships along these "axes."

Thus Jesus' words refer to the whole fullness of human life. He says that this life is carried out not so much visibly as "in secret," not so much in deeds as in the intentions of the heart, not so much in actions as in relationships. Accordingly, the visible reward of this world is not what matters for us, because it passes away together with this world; what matters is the reward from the invisible God, because that reward is eternal life.

Preparation for Lent concludes with a reading of Christ's words, handed down to us by the evangelist Matthew, about what fasting and prayer are. In the Sermon on the Mount the Lord tells His disciples that fasting and prayer have meaning only in secret from people. Only when they become events in your deeply personal relationship with God and are visible to no one except God - only then do fasting and prayer have meaning. The Lord warns us about the subtle temptation to "appear to people to be fasting." In this time of fasting, our enemy really does tempt us with the desire to appear so that those around us will think (even if not out loud): "Ah, how devout, practically a saint..." This "Ah!" destroys the whole meaning of fasting. "Rend your hearts and not your garments," as we heard from the prophet Joel (Joel 2:13).

And today the Lord also speaks to us about prayer: do not heap up words like the Gentiles. Neither the length of a prayer nor the number of words said in it means anything. Only the movement of the soul toward God gives prayer its value. And today's reading ends with the Lord's Prayer. The apostles had the custom of saying this prayer three times a day: morning, noon, and evening. Without doubt, the apostles prayed beyond that, but these three times became for Christians a kind of spiritual frame on which the whole day - and all of life - rests.

Prayer, as the highest form of communion, contains many different components. Somewhat conventionally, we divide them into thanksgiving, praise, and petition. Someone may offer another classification or suggest other types of prayerful speech; here nothing defines anything completely, just as no scheme fully applies to the living current of life. But this is what today's reading reminds us of. The Lord calls us to brevity in prayer, and at first glance this appears to contradict the whole practice of long services and extensive prayer rules. It would contradict them, if not for the words: for your Father knows what you need. That is, when speaking about prayer, the Lord has only petitionary prayer in mind. Why, if He Himself so loves to pray from the Psalter, where there is so much praise and so many other expressions of the spirit of a person's communion with God? It appears to us that this is full of deep meaning and is not accidental at all. We sometimes rank petitionary prayer below the others; it appears to us that asking for something means humiliating ourselves. We are accustomed to relying on ourselves, especially now in today's world, when so much is accessible to human powers. But in reality, and Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh writes about this, petitionary prayer is a very important prayer; perhaps it is even more important than the others, and the text of today's reading reminds us of this. But here is the question: how should we ask, in order to raise petitionary prayer to such a height? The answer to this question is contained in the priceless treasure that is the Lord's Prayer, in which the element of petition is very strong precisely in this highest sense. One recalls Metropolitan Anthony's conversation with an atheist woman. She said that in the Lord's Prayer she could accept everything except the words "and lead us not into temptation" - a sign of weakness, she said. And when we think little of petitionary prayers, we act like that woman. In these moments let us remember the revelation of the apostle Paul: "...for My power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:9).

Every action must have a definite goal, and more than that, this goal is reached: the one who loves for show, in order to earn respect and honor, easily reaches his goal - he "has already received his reward." But the one who loves in secret, even from himself, so much that his "left hand does not know" about it, that is, inwardly, in the depth of the heart where even a person's own consciousness does not always penetrate, all the more receives "repayment," that is, reaches his goal.

And it seems that the Gospel, the good news, consists precisely in this promise that the goal will be reached, even if our left hand never finds out about it. Christ promises that compassion, participation in another person's life, will reach that person's heart, that the one who seeks God will manage to be alone with Him in his closet, behind a closed door.

The logic of the Sermon on the Mount continues here: the logic of interiorization, of moving spiritual life from the outside inward. True relationships with God do not consist in performing certain actions, but in the inner motivation for those actions. Best of all is when these actions become so inwardly natural to us that we ourselves no longer notice their motives. It is no accident that the words, "your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you openly," are repeated here like a refrain.

Almsgiving that is unnoticed from the outside, prayer without many words and without onlookers: these are elements of that naturalness. And Jesus Himself shows an example of such naturalness: the prayer "Our Father," born right here and now, which became the standard for Christians of every generation.

And it begins with the word most natural for the Son as He turns to the Father: "Abba," which would best be translated not as "Father" and not even as "Papa," but as "Daddy"; it is such a childlike and tender form of address.

Just as He rejects ostentatious almsgiving, Christ rejects demonstrative prayer and tells those who pray to shut themselves in their room. Does this mean that any prayer in the presence of other people falls under His disapproval?

Such a conclusion would be hasty, since He Himself prayed in the presence of many people and did not forbid His disciples to do so. Words of disapproval do not and cannot apply to genuine, sincere prayer that directs the soul toward meeting God. It is another matter when religious formalism turns into showy piety, when public prayer becomes an element of etiquette, deprived of inner fire. Prayer without faith becomes meaningless.

The same is true of many words in prayer. This does not mean that prayer has to be short, but its strength does not depend on its length. Someone compared standing in prayer to shooting a bow, which requires concentration. Prayer may be long, but purposeful; therefore unnecessary words can weaken it, or even destroy it.

From Christ's words that the Heavenly Father sees our needs even before we ask, people often conclude that there is no need to ask Him: He will give anyway. In fact, He does give us much regardless of our requests. But it is sad if we look at Him only as a supplier of gifts while avoiding entering into a relationship with Him that is filled with something greater.

To help us learn this better, Christ gave us the prayer "Our Father" as a model for our prayer. We can repeat its words and meditate on them every day.

Have you ever, say, gone swimming while vacationing at the seaside and left a bag with money on the beach? You splash around in the water, but something spoils your pleasure: you keep looking back at your things... "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Of course, this is a very primitive illustration of Jesus' words, but are you and I really such complicated beings? The same mechanism for distributing our attention operates in more "spiritual" situations too. Of course, earthly matters are important, and they must be given attention. Will we be able each time to keep within ourselves the right vertical order of what matters most, where God, the Spirit, and love are above all?

The following words of Christ about God and mammon, or wealth, speak about the same thing. Jesus is not against wealth or well-being. He says that they must not be placed at the center of our service and attention; that place must be reserved for God.

The recommendations for keeping the fast sound surprisingly current, as if two thousand years had not passed. Still, when rereading the Gospel, one often remembers the words that "Christianity is only beginning." Imitating piety by keeping a fasting diet with a "fasting face" has turned out to be much easier than growing spiritually by passing through the fast. But it is meaningless to act before the One Who sees the true motives of our actions.

There seems to be nothing to add to what has been said about storing up treasures. Every day we receive many opportunities to observe how what people tried to place their hopes in crumbles into dust. Nevertheless, every day we again and again try to increase those same unreliable earthly treasures. They are not necessarily treasures in the literal sense; their role can be played by everyday trifles and necessary household objects. But even what is necessary can be turned into an idol that blocks out God. And when a hard choice stands before us: God or mammon? - it becomes very easy to choose God in words while rejecting Him by our deeds.

If we are truly with Him, then His light dwells in us and lights our path, keeping us from losing our way on difficult roads. But when we leave Him, we turn away from His light too, though we do not admit it at once. Then with distorted spiritual vision we begin to take the darkness dwelling in us for light.

But if evil that pretends within us to be light, and is therefore "softened," is monstrous even in such a weakened form, then what must be the darkness of undisguised evil, toward which we risk heading when we turn away from the Source of Light?

The unfamiliar word "mammon" actually means a "stronghold," something one can rely on, a source of hope. Of course, the Lord understands that all of us need to eat, drink, dress, earn a living, and so on, but He says that in a person's life there cannot be two hopes, two treasures, two goals. He uses little birds and flowers of the field as examples to show that one can be free, happy, and beautiful while hoping not in "treasure on earth," but in God. Moreover, this beauty is purer, this freedom clearer, than anything the "trouble of the day" can offer us. And this is not about fleeing life, not about irresponsibility or getting something for nothing, but about turning to the most precious and most meaningful content of life - to God, who is absolutely more wondrous than any treasure.

Forgiveness Sunday is one of the most remarkable days in the church year. And the old custom comes to mind: when someone asks for forgiveness, to answer, "God will forgive." To a modern person these words grate on the ear. That is the fate of language. But I think our ancestors had no less spirituality than we do, and so let us think about this once more.

We do not value these words because we treat God's forgiveness too easily, as though it were something self-evident because of His great mercy. We say to ourselves: a person, yes, can forgive or can refuse to forgive, and so when we ask for forgiveness we want to hear not "God will forgive," but "I forgive you." And here precisely we must remember the words of today's Gospel reading: if you forgive people their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive people their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. In other words, the situation turns back on you yourself (and that is how it should always be in life!).

But what do we know about forgiveness? At times a person is guided by the common saying: I forgive everyone who owes me. But seriously, in reality the first true teacher of forgiveness is, of course, Joseph, who forgave his brothers. Let us learn from the great teachers.

And I would like to say one more thing. It is no accident at all that the words about forgiveness are joined here in the text with words about asceticism. These two aspects of life have the deepest connection, which can be pictured this way: fasting - humility, in the biblical sense and not the everyday one - the suppression of pride - forgiveness.