NOTES for Luk 11:15-22

A simple question: should biblical texts be applied directly or not? Should the words written there be related to what is happening in the world?

After reading the beginning of the book of the prophet Joel, one wants to say that the ways of responding to what is happening described there should be put into practice. After all, as human beings improve their ways of fighting others like themselves in defense of their own opinion, they improve the means, but their goals do not change. In the same way, the ways of responding to evil in the world that the Bible offers do not change: fasting, prayer, and faith that only One has conquered death. The strong man's house has already fallen; the demons have already been driven out.

Looking at the world even from the standpoint of human logic, it is clear that no human powers can protect us from evil. It can be fought with faith that turns into confidence that Jesus, who drives out demons, will also give us the strength to stand against them.

Jesus' short parable draws a clear picture for us. Life is not exhausted by the absence of evil; it is fulfilled by the presence of Good. This is where the beneficial role of law, even God's Law, ends: it points out evil and demands that we renounce it, but it neither defines the Good nor gives us the strength to do it. It is not enough to drive out sin, though even that lies beyond our strength; we must receive righteousness. Christ reveals this righteousness, not merely sinlessness. The Holy Spirit descends upon the apostles at Pentecost precisely to give them strength to practice righteousness. This is precisely why the baptism of repentance is completed by birth from above.

Jesus once said something similar to verse 23: “Whoever is not against you is for you” (Lk 9:50). At first this may cause slight confusion—these lines look so very similar, yet seem to convey completely different meanings. But their meaning is one and the same: to teach us to love. Only afterward do we notice that in one case Jesus addresses His disciples and instructs them, while in the other He addresses all people and speaks of their attitude toward Himself. If a person is not filled with love for God and does not act according to His will under the guidance of that love, that person does the opposite, squandering time, life, and the strength that the Lord gives. When similar words are spoken to the disciples, however, they concern our human relationships. The Lord calls us to love our friends and our enemies, to say nothing of those who show us no hostility, those who are not against us. He seems to speak of the potential inherent in human relationships for shared creativity, work, and life in community. He warns us against any preconceived views and impressions of someone we barely know.

In response to the outrageous claim by the Jews that He casts out demons by the power of their own prince, the Lord offers a rather simple argument. If, He says, this blasphemous idea is true, it means that the rule of that prince has ended and the Day of the Lord has come. If it is false, then all the more “the kingdom of God has come upon you.” Either way, such “explanations” cannot avoid acknowledging the accomplished fact of Christ’s coming. The Lord then says that, faced with this fact, each of us must make a choice: to be with Him or against Him. It is extremely important that there is no third, neutral, or intermediate option in our relationship with the Son of God: “Whoever does not gather with Me scatters.” In today’s circumstances these words are especially important, for they deprive the most widespread religious phenomena of our time of any foundation: external, nominal Christianity in the style of blessing offices, and magical practices in the style of “health at any cost.”

Today's reading includes two episodes joined by the evangelist into one account. It begins with the disciples' question about prayer, in response to which Jesus offers them, and through them all of us, the "Our Father" (vv. 1-4). Luke, as one can see, focuses chiefly on the importance of asking, and of asking persistently, as a necessary condition for receiving what is asked (vv. 5-13). It would seem that God is not a human being who needs, like a forgetful or unfriendly steward, to be reminded again and again of what is requested. On the other hand, persistence in this case turns out above all to be evidence that a person remembers his request and that it is truly important to him. Indeed, is it worth granting a request that the one who asks forgets the very next day? One can ask this way only for trifles; important requests are those that a person who truly cares about them is ready to repeat again and again, confirming the seriousness of his intentions.

The same seriousness is at issue in the second part of today's passage. The point is not only that the very idea of casting out demons by the power of their ruler was absurd (vv. 17-18, 21-22). The point is also that for those arguing, everything Jesus did was a kind of game, something remotely resembling their own disputes, which were undoubtedly fascinating but, in essence, demanded no commitment. This explains the demand for a sign that would prove Jesus right (vv. 14-16).

The proof had to be theologically correct; it had to correspond to the "right" ideas of the "right" rabbinic school in order to be accepted. And until such proof was presented, anything would do as an explanation of what was happening, including absurd claims about the "prince of demons." But Jesus Himself was not going to play these games, because for Him everything He did was absolutely serious. And He tries to explain to His listeners the full seriousness of what is happening (vv. 24-26). The games are over; what is at stake is a person's spiritual life and spiritual death.

But professional disputants, as one can see, have no concern for that. What matters to them is whether Jesus will manage to outargue them or not. And in their disputes they lose the Kingdom without noticing it. For the Kingdom is not a game; it is serious. And forever.