NOTES for Act 2:1-47

On the day of Pentecost, a new age begins: the age of apostolic preaching and the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church. More has probably been said and written about this chapter than about all the rest of Acts, but here we can dwell on only a few points. When we speak of the Spirit, we must understand how He, invisible and incomprehensible, manifests Himself in the life of a person and in the life of the Church. First of all, the fire in their hearts prompts the apostles, who had previously been afraid to appear in public, to go out into the squares of Jerusalem and preach the Kingdom revealed in Jesus. In Peter’s preaching we see extraordinary boldness (some would probably say “originality”) in the interpretation of Scripture, especially the psalms of David. This too is a gift of the Spirit: to see and perceive God’s revelation in Scripture and in contemporary events. Finally, in the last part of the chapter we see how the Spirit multiplied and transformed the apostolic community. These verses (41–47) are worth reading carefully once again in order to understand the principles on which the Lord begins to build His Church.

It has become commonplace to point to the day of Pentecost as the birthday of the Church. This is absolutely true. But what, in fact, are we talking about? Most often people speak of the apostolic community, upon which the Holy Spirit descended, making it the Church, the first church community on earth. That, of course, is true. But with this view the Church is still somewhat limited. It becomes a community, even if an extraordinary one, headed by the risen Christ Himself and led by the Holy Spirit, yet still a human community.

Indeed, pointing to the headship of Christ and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, many say: a divine-human community. But even that definition still limits the Church. It is more exact to say that the Church is not a community. Not a society of people. It is a process. A spiritual process. A stream of God's breath, into which people are brought when they have received this breath into their hearts. On the day of Pentecost it, God's breath, bursts into the world. That "as if a wind" that burst into the room where the apostles and those of one mind with them had gathered was not an ordinary physical wind.

God's breath is sometimes indeed felt as a light breeze; references to this appear in the biblical books. But here it is no light breeze; here it is a strong wind, almost a hurricane, bursting into the house. This is how the Kingdom, its breath, enters the world. As if the door of the Kingdom had opened and it poured in here, to us. Exactly so: not simply into the gathering of the faithful, but into the world. All gatherings, however many there will be in church history, are only derivative of this process. And that process itself, this very stream of the Kingdom in the world, is the Church proper. This breath of the Kingdom gathers people into assemblies, and the Greek word used for church in the New Testament books is translated as "assembly."

It makes them a church. And the Church with a capital C as well. Even those who happen to be nearby as if by chance, like the people in the street who listen to Peter's preaching. They hear not the words; the apostles did not know as many languages as the author of Acts lists, and there are more of those languages than there were apostles. They hear what is behind the words. Only an inhabitant of the Kingdom can hear in that way. And this means that all who listened to Peter then became, for a time, inhabitants of the Kingdom. And therefore part of the Church.

How long they remained in the Kingdom, and therefore in the Church, is another question. The "tongues of fire" mentioned by the author of the book do not overshadow each person who was then in the room by accident. Each person has his or her own light of God's presence. And the Presence itself is also given to each person personally. Its measure and its constancy depend not only on God, but also on the person. This is what determines the measure of a particular person's participation in the life of the Kingdom. But that is already a question of that person's spiritual path. The Kingdom has entered the world. The door is open. And everyone stands before this door. Whether to enter or not depends only on the person.

Today is a special feast for God: after passing through the horror of losing Her Bridegroom, His Resurrection, and His return to heaven, the Church receives the long-awaited Comforter. This is the birthday of the Church, the Bride of Christ. The newborn Bride fills the world with a loud voice full of joy. How exactly the psalmist described today's events: "Clap your hands, all peoples, shout to God with a voice of joy; for the Lord Most High is awesome, a great King over all the earth (...) God has gone up with shouts, the Lord with the sound of the trumpet (...) God has reigned over the nations, God has sat upon His holy throne; the princes of the peoples have gathered to the people of the God of Abraham, for the shields of the earth are God's; He is highly exalted over them" (see Ps. 46). Today the Lord fulfills His promise: "Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within him" (John 7:38).

Today these streams pour out upon the world. The joy that fills the apostles overflows; such a thing is impossible and must not be kept inside oneself. The strong wind that filled the upper room where the disciples had gathered continues to blow into the world. And everyone who "heard them speaking in his own language" understands that in the miracle taking place practically before his eyes, there is a place for him too. The fire sets the people around the apostles aflame. And "about three thousand souls were added" to the Church that day (Acts 2:41). This is how, and only how, the living "transmission" of faith happens: the Holy Spirit sets us aflame, and we are amazed and astonished at the great works of God (see Acts 2:7, 2:11).

The miracle of the Holy Spirit’s descent upon the apostles is accompanied by all the traditional outward signs of a theophany (an appearance of God): noise, wind, fire... The inner change taking place in Christ’s disciples is imperceptible, but it is from this moment that the Church dates its existence—the invisible presence of God in the transformed hearts of people who feel and recognize their unity with one another.

As we continue reading the book of Acts, we notice that being of one accord is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, who descended on the apostles at Pentecost and then worked powerfully in the Church. But here, in this verse, it becomes clear that this one accord among the apostles arose even before the descent of the Holy Spirit, and there is no contradiction here, but a living spiritual dynamic. If there had been no unity of heart among the disciples, Pentecost would perhaps not have taken place; yet they receive their true, genuine, and unbreakable unity of heart at the moment when they see the "tongues of fire" descending on each of them.

Where did this "preliminary" unity of heart come from? Did Pentecost take place only because several people happened to have the same mood and thoughts? Of course not. These are not random people, but Christ's disciples, whom He Himself had formed for three years; these are the very disciples to whom He appeared after His Resurrection and "opened their minds to understand the Scriptures"; and, finally, these are the very apostles to whom He said, breathing on them, "Receive the Holy Spirit." So even this "small" unity of heart is the result of God's work.

When we read the book of the Acts of the Apostles, we see farther that unanimity is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, which descended on the apostles the day of the Pentecost and acting powerfully after that in the Church. But we see in this verse that there was already unanimity among the apostles before the descent of the Holy Spirit. It isn’t a contradiction, but rather dynamism. If there was no unanimity among the followers, then the Pentecost wouldn't have probably taken place. But they inherit the real, genuine, imperishable unanimity, at the moment they see "tongues of fire ", coming upon each of them. Where then does this "preliminary" unanimity come from? Did the Pentecost take place only because of a fortuitous coincidence of the humors and ideas of some persons? Of course not. They aren't adventitious people, but rather followers of the Christ, who educated them Himself during three years. They are the same followers, to whom He manifested Himself by His resurrection and "opened the spirit to the understanding of the Scriptures ". And, finally, they are the same apostles, to whom He said, blowing on them: "Accept the Holy Spirit". Thus, even this "little" unanimity is the result of God's work.

On the feast of Pentecost, let us turn to what authoritative church writers of the millennium before last thought and wrote about it. Here are several texts:

The Venerable Cosmas of Maiuma, in the canon of the feast, emphasizes that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit becomes the beginning of our transfiguration, the beginning of our deification: "The power now coming, the good Spirit, the Spirit of God's wisdom, the Spirit who proceeds from the Father and is given by the Son to the faithful, dwells in them by the nature of holiness in which He is revealed to us."

The author of the ikos calls God to unite Himself with us in the outpouring of the Spirit: "Grant swift consolation to Your servants, Jesus, when our spirit grows despondent; do not be separated from our souls in sorrows, do not depart from our thoughts in troubles, but always come to us Yourself first; draw near to us, draw near, O Omnipresent One, as You always abide with Your apostles, so also unite Yourself with those who love You, O Bountiful One, that we too, being united, may sing to You and glorify Your all-holy Spirit." Let us note that the Greek word that the Slavonic text translates as "draw near" rather means union or betrothal, that is, the making of a covenant. It is precisely such closeness, judging by the words of St. John of Damascus in the second canon of the feast, that constitutes the essence of God's design:

The most pure mouth of the Savior declares:

I will not leave you orphans, My friends,

As I sit on the high paternal throne,

I will pour out the Spirit upon you abundantly,

so that grace may shine on those who await Him.

And John of Damascus also reminds us that the gift of the Holy Spirit is poured out only from the wounds of the crucified Christ: "Washing me with the divine word of new life, O Consubstantial One, You pour out for me streams of grace from Your pierced side, O Word of God, placing upon me the seal with the flame of Your Spirit."

The apostles' preaching on the day of Pentecost lets us look at the Kingdom from a side that is somewhat unexpected for us, seeing it from within and seeing it through the eyes of those who dwell in it in all the fullness possible for a person not yet transfigured. In particular, it partly opens to us something important about the forms of communication that are possible in the Kingdom.

Of course, both in the Kingdom and in our transfiguring but not yet transfigured world, speech plays an enormous role not only as a means of communication in the strict sense, reduced to the transfer of information, but also as a form of expressing and embodying the meanings we want to convey to another person. And meaning is not limited to informational content alone; it presupposes, as modern psychologists say, an intentional coloring, our attitude toward the information being communicated, without which there can be no talk of meaning. And this attitude, without doubt, needs living language for its expression, with its sound and its outward form.

But, on the other hand, precisely this outward sound form of language often becomes an obstacle not only on the path of communication, but also in the process of expressing and embodying meanings. This includes the diversity of languages and the limited forms of each particular language. It appears that in the Kingdom these obstacles are overcome, not by some transformation of languages as such, but through the direct, immediate transmission of meanings from person to person.

Indeed, the mere number of peoples and tribes listed in the Book of Acts as listening to the apostles forces us to forget the possibility of any ordinary verbal communication: even if the preaching apostles had suddenly been able to speak all the languages of the world, there were too few of them to preach simultaneously in all the languages the audience might have required.

Evidently in this case what took place was precisely a direct, immediate transmission of meanings, which each person then embodied in words himself, and, unsurprisingly, in the words of his own native language.

It appears that in the Kingdom, genuine communion is not hindered by any individual differences, including linguistic differences, which of course remain: there can be no talk of leveling or uniformity in the life of the Kingdom. But when the matter concerns the embodiment of meanings that have been communicated and received, a person is absolutely free: receiving what has been communicated without distortion, he finds a fully adequate instrument for expressing what he has received. Such communion spiritually enriches both the Kingdom and its inhabitants.

The sermon of the apostles the day of the Pentecost allows us to glance into the Kingdom on a certain unexpected side for us, looking at it from the inside and having seen it the eyes of those who live in it in all the possible fullness for a yet non transformed man. In particular it reveals to us something important about these forms of communication that are possible in the Kingdom. Of course, in the Kingdom, and in our world transforming, but not yet transformed, the word plays an immense role not only as a means of communication in its purest form, reduced to the transmission of information, but also as a form of expression and the implementation of these senses that we want to transmit to others.

And the sense is not only limited to the contents, it supposes, as say the modern psychologists, an intentional coloration, supposes our relation to the communicated information, without which one can’t speak about the sense. And this relation, for its expression is in need without doubt in particular of a living language, of its sounding, of its external form. But, on the other hand, it is just in particular this external sound form of the language that is quite often a hindrance not only on the ways of communication, but also in the process of the expression and the implementation of the senses. Here there is also the language variety, and the limitation of the forms of every concrete language.

As seen, in the Kingdom these obstacles are overcome, and are overcome not on the ways of a certain transformation of the languages as such, but by means of direct, immediate transmission of the senses from man to man. Indeed, the quantity alone of people and the tribes enumerated in the Book of Acts, listening to the apostles, obliges to forget about the possibility of any verbal communication: even if the preaching apostles were suddenly capable of speaking in all the tongues of the world, they were very few to preach simultaneously in all these tongues, as may be required by the public.

Obviously in this case, was exactly a direct, immediate transmission of senses, which each already implemented into words himself, and moreover (what is not surprising) in the words of his native tongue. As seen, literally the communication in the Kingdom is not disturbed by any individual differences, including the tongue, which of course remain: because on can’t speak about any leveling, about any uniformity in the life of the Kingdom. When it comes to the implementation of the communicated and perceived senses, man is absolutely free: perceiving what is communicated without distortions, he finds a quite adequate tool for the expression of the received. Such communication enriches spiritually the Kingdom and its inhabitants.

The description of the sermon of the apostles the day of the Pentecost explains to us a lot: and as regards the revelation, and relatively to the divine inspiration, and even about life in the Kingdom. How the apostles could really speak simultaneously in such a number of tongues, which supposes the multitude mentioned in the narrative of peoples represented in the square of Jerusalem? And hardly the apostles themselves possessed some tongues, except their native Aramaic, and perhaps even the Greek. And meanwhile they are heard as people speaking in several tongues! What happened? To be short: those speaking, and those listening apparently were in the same spiritual space, in the space of the Kingdom. And there, obviously words aren’t needed for communication. It does not mean that words aren’t use in the Kingdom; they are there not just the only means of communication, as in the non transformed world. In the Kingdom, communication is probably possible as a direct exchange of meanings, and such communication takes place on a level superior to words.

But the word is very important for man to reject it, even in the Kingdom, it is not simply a means of communication, but also the means of expression and realization of meanings, including the meanings revealed by God. And realize everyone the meanings perceived in the words of his mother tongue: it turns out that each "hears" (and more exactly, perceives) the words of the apostles in his mother tongue. Such form of communication as the exchange of meanings is surely the main for the Kingdom. But it is also met in our non transformed world, particularly, when that concerns the revelation.

In which tongue God speaks? For, the prophets, for example, hear Him literally, hear the words said and addressed to them! Probably, it wouldn’t have cost anything to God to reveal the meanings of the words. But it seems, He provides it to those, whom open them, that is why there are so many human specificities in the sermons of the biblical prophets. And Holy Scriptures were also born in particular like this, according to its genre and stylistic diversity: God opened the meanings to the one, whom He wanted to open them, and those to whom He opened them, found (perhaps with His help) the words for the received revelation.

Probably, otherwise there would have been no sense in the revelation: because it is not only called to inform man of something, of which he did not know before, it is first of all called to transform man and to lead him to the Kingdom. And without the participation of the very man, as seen, neither of them is possible. And God, talking with man, entails him in His life. In the same life of the Kingdom, without which salvation is impossible.

Speaking to those who had gathered, Peter first of all defends the apostles from the accusation of drunkenness. This was vitally necessary in order to justify the seriousness of the apostolic preaching. Unfortunately, in our time Peter's argument that people cannot be drunk because it is still too early would no longer work: customs have changed greatly, and lovers of alcohol get drunk at any time... But whatever opponents may say, both those of that day and later ones, Christianity is inseparable from sobriety, understood more broadly than abstaining from alcohol: faith gives the most sober possible view of reality.

Noting the similarity between what is happening and what was foretold in Joel's prophecy, Peter relies on Old Testament prophecy not because he wants to drag a proof from ancient books into current events by force. Yes, he is addressing people who need argument based on the books of the Old Testament, but the whole point is that Peter really does see that the Old Testament prophecies are being truly disclosed before the eyes of those gathered. The more we compare the Old and New Testaments, the more we will be able to see their interconnection.

Speaking to the assembled crowd about Christ and His resurrection, Peter reproaches them for His execution. Presumably, not everyone present was directly responsible for the killing, but by tacitly consenting or showing indifference, they all became complicit in rejecting the Messiah for whom the people had waited so long. Yet Peter says this not to accuse those assembled and thereby assert himself at their expense, but to call them to repentance, just as he himself repented of his own weakness, and to atone for their rejection by accepting Christ.

Peter once again reveals the meaning of the Old Testament prophecies and again leads his listeners toward the realization that Jesus is the Messiah. This time he relies on David's prophetic insights, and we see how unexpectedly their meaning unfolds after the Resurrection, which provided the key to understanding many passages of Scripture that had previously remained obscure.

For Christians, the fact of Jesus' Resurrection from the dead has always served as proof that He is the Messiah. The apostles, however, look at this less simplistically: for them it is clear that the Savior's Resurrection is not only a manifestation of God's power, but also the culmination of spiritual processes that began long before the Savior came into the world. If it were otherwise, it would not have for Christians the meaning that it has, since, after all, God can raise anyone if that is His will; at the end of time the day will come when all who have ever lived on earth will rise.

A manifestation of God's power is always a sign, but signs have meaning only in the context of the events with which they are connected. Therefore the Savior's Resurrection has meaning only in the context of the whole history of the people of God and, more broadly, the whole history of Revelation, which begins with the creation of the world: God revealed Himself to the world from the very beginning of its existence. And although Peter in his sermon does not go back that far, he does remember David, precisely because promises were connected with David that went beyond the limits of earthly history. Peter sees in everything that is happening the fulfillment of the promises given to David. He understands that the kingdom promised to David, which will not cease and will not disappear, is not an earthly kingdom, but the very one that Jesus brought into the world, the Kingdom with a capital K.

The coming of the Messiah is both a break in earthly history and its culmination at the same time. The point is not only the manifestation of God's power at the moment of the Resurrection. The point is also that God's power, the power of the Kingdom, has now entered the world, and that the former history, the history of the fallen world, has ended there. Another history has begun, the history of the Kingdom. Pentecost became the beginning of this history, and the Resurrection was its source. If the Resurrection had been something absolutely otherworldly, it would have remained a single fact of earthly history; for us today it would be the greatest miracle, left far in the past. But it became the source of the Kingdom whose history continues today, and as Christians we have a direct and immediate relation to this history.

Filled with the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, Peter delivers the very first sermon of the New Testament Church - a sermon in which, for the first time, the Good News is heard by those "outside," and this News is about the resurrection of Christ. This astonishing event is unique in human history, and the Church will spend many years searching for adequate words to describe it.

In these words of Peter we see the first attempt to express a paradox: on the one hand, Jesus Himself proves to be the victor over death, since it cannot hold Him. On the other hand, only the living can bring the dead to life, and if no one else took part in this, then it means that the Living God raised Christ. This paradox is resolved in another paradox, which the Church would later formulate: the divine-human nature of Christ.

Being filled with the Holy Spirit on the day of the Pentecost, Peter pronounces the very first sermon in the new alliance Church - sermon, in which the Good News will sound for "external" people for the first time, and this News is about the Resurrection of Christ. This exceptional event is unique in the history of humanity, and the Church will look during several years for an adequate verbal description for it. We see through these Peter's words the first attempt to express the paradox: on one hand, Jesus Himself appears to be conqueror of death, because it can't retain Him. On the other hand, only a living being can animate a dead man, and if no one else participated in it, it is then the Living God who resuscitated Christ. This paradox is solved in another paradox, which afterwards will form the Church, - that of Christ the God-man.

The reaction of the Jews listening to Peter's preaching may seem strange, given that his last words spoke of their guilt. Peter, calling them to believe in Jesus Christ, is not afraid of this truth. We need to learn from him how to act when, in speaking about something or preaching, we are not afraid to tell a person the truth, even knowing that it is "against him."

And what is the reaction? "They were cut to the heart." And this happened precisely because what was said was the truth and was said with love. Besides, these people did not close themselves off or harden themselves against the truth spoken to them; they accepted it and wanted to change something. Then God responds to this readiness of heart and sends a gift: compunction of heart, something that changes the heart itself, and changes it for the better, building mercy and love for those around it. And the Lord was no exception: they came to love Him too. And what can be more wonderful than the feeling of love for God?

Peter's answer to the question of what Christianity is and what a Christian should do sounds completely clear. First of all, it is a matter of repentance for sins committed and of washing in the name of Jesus Christ, which frees a person from these sins and from their consequences once and for all. And then a new life begins, life in the Kingdom, inseparable from what the apostle calls "the gift of the Holy Spirit." That is how the Synodal Translation reads. But the Greek text allows another, more convincing interpretation: receive a gift from God, the Holy Spirit.

The divine breath that permeates the Kingdom is the chief gift to Christians from God. A gift received through Christ, in union with Him as King of this Kingdom. Here lies the answer to the question of what a Christian should do. Live. Live in the Kingdom. If Christianity were some new religion, the question of what its adherents should do would be entirely appropriate. But the point is that Peter is not speaking about religion. In the religious sense he offers his hearers nothing new. Even the washing, or as it is commonly called in English, baptism, of Christians is only one form of the cleansing washings that existed in those days.

The difference here is not in the religious form, but in the content, in what was connected with the washing. Here there was not simple cleansing, but a cleansing in which those being cleansed asked the Savior Himself for cleansing. So that afterward those cleansed would be bound to Him and could share in the life of that Kingdom of which He is King. The cleansing washing here became a kind of pass into the Kingdom.

But this was only the first step, and afterward one had to live in the Kingdom. To live so that the Christian's heart becomes the place where the Kingdom abides. So that it would be not only around, but also within. Because otherwise it does not happen; otherwise one cannot share in the life of the Kingdom. The breath of the Kingdom entering the Christian's heart becomes the chief gift from God. Now one must learn to live with this gift, to live so as not to lose it. This is the chief Christian discipline: the science of life in the Kingdom, the science of acquiring and preserving in one's heart God's gift, the breath of the Kingdom.

Christian historians and theologians have repeatedly expressed the opinion that the entire history of the fallen humanity is, in fact, nothing else than the repetition of the fall in different forms. And, maybe if to talk about the Jewish history, as about the history of the people of God, the torture of the so long expected Messiah, Who the majority of the people did not bother to notice, is the best testimony of it.

In fact, Jesus was condemned to death not for the messianic lie and even not for the religious crimes (such charges which were moved forward in Sanhedrin, were just a cover), but only because He prevented the authorities (both secular and religious) from playing their political games. And here, it seems, manifests itself the characteristic of the fallen human nature, can just be, in particular what formerly, at the dawn of the history of the humanity, became the reason of its fall: the distortion of the spiritual perspective, because of which the most important seems a trifle, not worth attention, and the least important engendered by the very man illusions and mirages - the most important. All the spiritual horror of the situation lies maybe exactly in the fact that Christ was crucified among others, thinking not at all of Him, not only as the Messiah, but even simply as man, not thinking at least in this proportion for which generally requires to think every death sentence endurable to every person without exception.

Through the Messiah, Who according to the words was so expected, just crossed, as through the barrier hindering the authorities. And indeed, the readiness to step over people, who disturb, and to go to the purpose over corpses, can be considered as the demonstration most character to the fallen human nature. But then came the day of the Pentecost, penetrated into the world the breath of the Kingdom, rang the sermon of the apostles. And those who listened to them, found themselves in the Kingdom, where the spiritual perspective is not deformed at all, as is deformed its fallen world, where all things and all situations are such, as God sees them.

And the answer to the sermon became a quite regular question in such situation: what shall we do now, when the most terrible has already happened, and we all, in various degree had taken part in it? And - such is the life of the Kingdom! - this very question became the beginning of the way of salvation. Indeed, there is nothing irreparable for God - the resurrection of Christ is a testimony of that. Only one thing is irreparable: the unwillingness of people to accept what is obvious. And, above all, one’s own sin.

As we can see, the people who heard Peter took his preaching seriously. The question "So what should we do?" did not sound by chance. In fact, if this concerns the rejection of the Messiah Himself, and a conscious one, there is no escaping the consequences of such a sin. Both Yahwism and Judaism traditionally viewed conscious sin as something whose consequences weigh over a person endlessly, even if that person deeply and sincerely repents of what he has done. And here the sin was participation in the death of the Messiah... There was something to think about and something to fear.

Peter immediately points the people listening to him to the only possible way out of the situation. It is a way out made possible precisely thanks to the One whom, according to the apostle's word, people killed and God raised. And this way out is connected with the possibility of sharing in that new life, the life of the Kingdom, which on the day of Pentecost became a reality open to everyone.

Entering the Kingdom, a person begins his life anew. From a clean slate. The consequences of all the sins he has committed remain in the former life, provided, of course, that the person does not drag them along with him. And so that this does not happen, the very conversion of which the evangelist speaks is necessary. In the Synodal translation it is traditionally called repentance, but the matter is precisely conversion: the corresponding Greek word of the original, at least, means exactly this. And conversion is not only a return to the God from whom one has turned away. And not only emotional remorse over sins committed.

It is also reflection on what one has done, awareness of the spiritual quality of one's actions, of the intentions that stand behind them. And it is a conscious rejection of those among them that are incompatible with the Torah, with the Gospel, and with the commandments given by God. Then one can truly begin a new life from a clean slate. Then the communal life described by the author of Acts could also become a reality: after all, it can exist only as long as every member of this community lives the life of the Kingdom in all the fullness available to him. As it should be in the Church with a capital C.

The Church is young and full of strength, strength breathed into it by the Spirit of the Lord. Those being saved are added by the thousands, many signs are performed, all the believers have received the gift of the Holy Spirit and remain in the fear of God; their life is a model of the full life of a Christian (see Acts 2:42). Not life at all, but a dream... But a dream is still something mostly unattainable, something invented to ease the conscience. People say: this is an ideal incompatible with reality. But what the first Christians live by is precisely the real reality, more real than what we live in now.

And in His conversation with Nicodemus, the Lord speaks exactly about this new being, about the Kingdom of God that is within them and among them (see Luke 17:21, Matt. 18:20). Through repentance, through baptism by water and the Spirit, through birth from above, we can enter, or more precisely, we give Christ the opportunity to bring us into this other life (see John 3:13). We may not yet have noticed it ourselves, but He has already done everything. What remains for us is only to believe this as we believe nothing else, to believe so that we gradually become aware of what has happened to us...

Apostle Peter's first sermon on the day of Pentecost led many people to be "pricked in their heart" and to ask the question:"what shall we do?" Everyone, who receives the Gospel, asks this same question. And here is the answer, that God proposes us through His Church.

Firstly: repent. We have already spoken several times about repentance here. Let's simply remember that: it is a turn-out of the spirit, the recognition of the fact that we are not self-sufficient, that we are sinful and our invocation to God as source of life and love. Secondly: be baptized. It is about complete ablution as sign of repentance and beginning of a new life. In the name of Jesus Christ means trusting Him and obedience to Him, for the sake of union with Him in His death and resurrection. Thirdly: the gift of the Holy Ghost. It isn't enough to be purged from sin, it is necessary to be filled with righteousness; it isn't just enough to begin a new life, but it should be a life dwelt in the Holy Spirit. And all this is given to us as a gift, and we only have to accept, cultivate and keep the gift.

In the Book of Acts there are special passages that, as it were, sum up everything said before, and at the end of the second chapter of the book we see exactly such a passage. It would seem that, considering how much happened during the time described in the first chapters of the book, this summary should have concerned some fundamentally important things - for example, the Ascension or Pentecost, since in the end those very events determined the existence of the Church itself.

But the author of the book speaks about something else: he simply tells about the life of the Church at that time, about the process of its existence, its dwelling in the world - and its dwelling in the Kingdom. It is no accident that the passage speaks of the breaking of bread, prayer, and fellowship with the apostles. This was the life of the Kingdom in the early Christian Church, and so it remains today. Nothing new was invented, and nothing new could have been invented, because the Savior Himself defined this life during the Last Supper.

But community life was more tightly knit than ours is today. Of course, the text hardly speaks of some common life like that characteristic of medieval monasteries, which often resembled large dormitories. Such forms of shared life were not very characteristic of Jewish life.

But there was something else: a community fund, replenished by generous donations from wealthy brothers, a community fund from which everyone in need could receive help. Of course, the Synagogue in every age was also marked by charity. But here, it seems, there is something more than charity as such - here there is poverty in the sense in which the prophets spoke of it, poverty as a spiritual state and not as a material condition. The recognition of the simple fact that everything belonging to you is yours only conditionally, until it becomes more needed by one of your brothers. The understanding that unconditional ownership on earth does not exist - here there is only the right of use, determined by concrete circumstances, circumstances that require us to consider nothing our own and to use everything that is needed. And this is the projection of the life of the Kingdom into society, a life where there is nothing of one's own; and if there is, then it is a lost life. Whoever wants to keep his life for himself loses it, as the Savior Himself says, but whoever gives it to Christ, making it part of the Kingdom, receives it back in a fullness unimaginable in an untransformed world.

The community life of the first Christians was a kind of practice in the life of the Kingdom. After all, it is better to get used to the new life as early as possible, so that later, when the Kingdom is revealed in all its fullness, one may enter it as naturally as possible for a fallen person.

Luke gives here a definition of the fullness of Christian life. Indeed, if the essence of this life is union with God, receiving His presence and action in each of our days, then where and in what has He left us this presence and action of His? You will say, everywhere? That is true, but this kind of presence of His is diffuse, impersonal; it does not imply personal relations with Him. Then you will say, in Jesus Christ? Yes, for He is with us "always, to the end of the age." He is the Word of God, come in the flesh, and He remains with us in the Word of God, in the Bible. Luke calls this "the apostles' teaching" because the apostolic perception of the Old Testament and the apostolic witness to Christ are precisely our Bible.

Where else do we meet Christ? Of course, in prayer. In prayer addressed to Him and in prayer to the Father, which we share with the Son. And there is a special presence of Christ in His Body and Blood, in the Eucharistic meal, the "breaking of bread." And finally, let us remember Jesus' words that "as you did it to one of the least of these My brothers, you did it to Me." That means there is His presence in every person we meet, and there is His special action in those who "received the Holy Spirit, having believed." Therefore "fellowship," brotherly love, and mutual help are also an encounter with Christ and a receiving of Him into one's life.

Let us pay attention to all these "channels of communication," not trying to emphasize some of them at the expense of others, and let us try to live not by "either-or" but by "both-and."

Luke gives here the definition of the plenitude of a Christian life. Indeed, if the essence of this life is union with God, acceptance of His presence and action in each of our days, then where and how He left us this presence and action? You will say, everywhere? And it's true, but such His presence, is "diffuse”, impersonal, it does not imply having personal relationships with Him. Then you will ask, in Jesus Christ? Yes, isn't said that He is with us "always, even unto the end of the world"? It is God's Word which came in flesh, and He stays with us in God's Word, in the Bible. Luke calls this "the Apostles’ doctrine", because it is in particular the apostolic perception of the Old Testament and the apostolic testimony of Christ that make our Bible. Where do we meet with Christ again? Of course, in the prayer. In a prayer addressed to Him, and in a prayer that we share with the Son to the Father. Also there is a special presence of the Christ in His Body and Blood - in the Eucharistic meal, the "breaking of bread". And finally, let's remember these words of Jesus: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me". Thus, there is His presence in every person we meet; there is specially His action in those who "accepted the Holy Ghost, having believed". And that is why "dialogue", fraternal love, mutual assistance are also a meeting with Christ and His acceptance in our life. Let's pay attention to all these "channels of communication", without trying "to advance" one of them at the expense of another, let's try to live with "and -and ", and not with " or-or ".