… All had something in common, κοινά.

And they sold their possessions and all their possessions, and divided each one equally according to need. (D. A. 2, 44-45).

It is, in our language, dead, flat and godless, "communism". Begun there, on the Mountain of Bread, —

they all ate, and were satisfied" (Mark 6:42),

here, in the Eucharist, it's finished, fulfilled. "All had in common" – not in slavery and hatred, eternal death, as we would like, but in freedom and love, in eternal life. That is why there is such "joy": the kingdom has already come.

Or, to put it in our language, again dead and flat, godless, but, alas, more comprehensible to us than the living language of the Gospel, the Eucharist of Luke is revolutionary-eschatological-social. This is what is so terribly forgotten, lost in our Church Eucharist.

Only when the Lord Himself, according to the wondrous word in the Eucharistic prayer of the Apostles, gathers all the churches, scattered "like bread in the mountains" (every believer is an ear of bread), into one Universal Church – His Kingdom, only then will this "social-revolutionary-eschatological" Eucharist be accomplished, no longer of the Second Testament, but of the Third, not only of the Son, but of the Father, the Son and the Spirit – the unknown Eucharist of Jesus the Unknown.

The color of the earth, transfigured in the Kingdom of God, is paradisiacal green green: that is why, even in the brilliance of the morning star – the Eucharist, the ray of Luke is green.

XVII

The main, special, personal thing in John's testimony is not sacrifice, as in Mark-Matthew-Paul, not the kingdom of God, as in Luke, but love.

Knowing that His hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, He loved His own who were in the world, and loved them to the end. (John 13:1.)

It is, as it were, a dedicatory inscription over the entire testimony of John, the latest in time, but not the most distant, external, but perhaps, on the contrary, the most inner, close to the heart of the Lord, overheard by those who reclined at this heart. But it is wondrous and terrible, incomprehensible to us, that the Eucharist itself is silent in this testimony, either because everything has already been said in the Capernaum synagogue, after the Bethsaida Synagogue, the first Last Supper, the Multiplication of the Loaves, or because it cannot be spoken of: it is too holy and terrible, "ineffable," arrêton, as in all the mysteries. But even here, in the Fourth Gospel, under all the words of the Lord, the mute heart of the Eucharist beats distinctly.

I consecrate myself for them,