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| Exodus 33:12-23 | ||
| Psalm 99 | ||
| 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10 | ||
| Matthew 22:15-22 |
Perhaps you have noticed—none of these topics are considered polite dinner conversation.
And there are reasons for this. Politics and religion are difficult to talk about. The political climate in our country is incredibly polarized and often reduced to talking points being hurled back and forth.
And so I come to find out that thanks to the preaching rotation, the Gospel reading from the lectionary that I am preaching on is one of the Bible’s most explicitly political passages.
What do you do with that?
Contemporary American thought tends to support keeping religion and politics separate. We do not often want to hear politics preached from pulpits. We tend to think that religion and our faith is above politics—or at least that it should be. We tend to think that religion should remain unstained by political processes.
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Maybe religion stains politics. We’ve seen through history and in current events that mixing religion and politics can yield deadly results and oppressive policies. Maybe, we think, it’s better to see religion as purely the realm of the spiritual, and politics the realm of the physical and material—what we experience in the real world, outside of the church. And so we separate Church and state in our own lives and minds.
Still, the Gospel reading shows Jesus in the thick of a political situation, and reminding those around him of their responsibilities to God.
I beg your indulgence, because in a time when many of us tend to live dualistic lives in between the secular and the religious, I believe it makes a difference if one’s faith leads one to allow constraints and divisions and oppressions that are already present in the world (and in the church), or leads one to participate in a faith that seeks to reconcile all to one another.
I’ll come to that in a moment, but let’s begin at the beginning. What’s going on in this story? What is so political about it? Jesus has come into Jerusalem just days before his death. He and his large crowd of disciples and followers are in the temple. He has been telling parables in which the Pharisees appear in a bad light. Jesus makes them appear to be hypocritical and unbending religious purists.
The Pharisees have had enough. So the Pharisees think about ways to embarrass and discredit Jesus. Maybe, they think, we can get him to say something embarrassing or treasonous. The Pharisees send some of their own to Jesus with a question, along with some folks named in the gospel as Herodians.
Some background may be helpful here, because this is an odd part of the story. And it reminds me of a novel full of political intrigue. You see, the Pharisees and the Herodians would not have liked each other. ‘Herodian’ means a supporter of Herod Antipas, who was not a very nice guy. He’s the guy who had John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, beheaded.
I beg your indulgence, because in a time when many of us tend to live dualistic lives in between the secular and the religious, I believe it makes a difference if one’s faith leads one to allow constraints and divisions and oppressions that are already present in the world (and in the church), or leads one to participate in a faith that seeks to reconcile all to one another.
I’ll come to that in a moment, but let’s begin at the beginning. What’s going on in this story? What is so political about it? Jesus has come into Jerusalem just days before his death. He and his large crowd of disciples and followers are in the temple. He has been telling parables in which the Pharisees appear in a bad light. Jesus makes them appear to be hypocritical and unbending religious purists.
The Pharisees have had enough. So the Pharisees think about ways to embarrass and discredit Jesus. Maybe, they think, we can get him to say something embarrassing or treasonous. The Pharisees send some of their own to Jesus with a question, along with some folks named in the gospel as Herodians.
Some background may be helpful here, because this is an odd part of the story. And it reminds me of a novel full of political intrigue. You see, the Pharisees and the Herodians would not have liked each other. ‘Herodian’ means a supporter of Herod Antipas, who was not a very nice guy. He’s the guy who had John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, beheaded.
Now, imagine, if you will, that you live in a country in which a close family member was executed. Imagine this family member was executed on the whim of a state official. Now imagine that this official’s flunkies come up to you to question you about patriotism and taxes. You will have some idea of how Jesus felt when confronted by the Herodians.
Herodians were folks who supported the Roman occupation of Jerusalem. Pharisees did not like the Herodians because the Pharisees were not fans of the occupation; the Pharisees thought the Herodians were sell-outs to Rome. But a mutual hate can make for strange friends, and Jesus made both the Pharisees and the Herodians nervous. Jesus threatened the power they had fought to keep. For the Pharisees’— it was their bid for the people’s religious lives. For the Herodians— control of the occupational government. This meant that both groups had the most access to power; and someone like Jesus, who called their use of power into question, was a problem to be ‘resolved.’
The group comes up to Jesus, and they ask their trick question; a yes or no question which should have embarrassed Jesus no matter which way he answered it. If Jesus said to pay the tax, He would appear to be a sympathizer of the oppressive government and lose credibility with many of his followers; in that case the Pharisees win.
If Jesus said not to pay the tax, he would be guilty of treason. An agitator. The Herodians would not let someone who openly protested their rule live. Rome does not like rebels. If Jesus says not to pay the tax, the Herodians could have him killed, and the Pharisees still win.
Pretty brilliant, right? Politics as usual in occupied territories.
Jesus throws them a curve ball by asking for the coin. The coin was a denarius. And it looked a lot like coins we would see today, but with a major difference. Our quarter doesn’t name George Washington as God; the denarius did name the emperor as God. For a Jew to be carrying a coin that called anyone but the God of Israel divine—in the temple of all places!— would have been embarrassing. That the Pharisees and Herodians could produce the coin probably made them a bit sheepish.
Jesus then asks who is on the coin. They answer ‘the emperor,’ and Jesus famously replies “Give to the emperor that which belongs to the emperor, and to God what belongs to God.”
With this response the Pharisees and the Herodians are humiliated. They walk away amazed; surprised that they did not see that response coming. Jesus managed to take their yes or no question about taxes and turn even that to God. What Jesus did was take the limiting question posed by those who ruled a worldly kingdom and he expanded the vision upward.
I want to suggest that the gospel reading for today is more than Matthew bragging on Jesus’ rhetorical skills, more than a tale showing Jesus’ political prowess, more than a scriptural permission for Christians to pay taxes, and more than a handy reading to pull out and read for church pledge drives.
The gospel reading today is a challenge to us because we are all called to ask a few questions:
If we owe something to God, how do we tell what it is?
Just as the denarius bears Caesar’s image— what bears the image of God?
Herodians were folks who supported the Roman occupation of Jerusalem. Pharisees did not like the Herodians because the Pharisees were not fans of the occupation; the Pharisees thought the Herodians were sell-outs to Rome. But a mutual hate can make for strange friends, and Jesus made both the Pharisees and the Herodians nervous. Jesus threatened the power they had fought to keep. For the Pharisees’— it was their bid for the people’s religious lives. For the Herodians— control of the occupational government. This meant that both groups had the most access to power; and someone like Jesus, who called their use of power into question, was a problem to be ‘resolved.’
The group comes up to Jesus, and they ask their trick question; a yes or no question which should have embarrassed Jesus no matter which way he answered it. If Jesus said to pay the tax, He would appear to be a sympathizer of the oppressive government and lose credibility with many of his followers; in that case the Pharisees win.
If Jesus said not to pay the tax, he would be guilty of treason. An agitator. The Herodians would not let someone who openly protested their rule live. Rome does not like rebels. If Jesus says not to pay the tax, the Herodians could have him killed, and the Pharisees still win.
Pretty brilliant, right? Politics as usual in occupied territories.
Jesus throws them a curve ball by asking for the coin. The coin was a denarius. And it looked a lot like coins we would see today, but with a major difference. Our quarter doesn’t name George Washington as God; the denarius did name the emperor as God. For a Jew to be carrying a coin that called anyone but the God of Israel divine—in the temple of all places!— would have been embarrassing. That the Pharisees and Herodians could produce the coin probably made them a bit sheepish.
Jesus then asks who is on the coin. They answer ‘the emperor,’ and Jesus famously replies “Give to the emperor that which belongs to the emperor, and to God what belongs to God.”
With this response the Pharisees and the Herodians are humiliated. They walk away amazed; surprised that they did not see that response coming. Jesus managed to take their yes or no question about taxes and turn even that to God. What Jesus did was take the limiting question posed by those who ruled a worldly kingdom and he expanded the vision upward.
I want to suggest that the gospel reading for today is more than Matthew bragging on Jesus’ rhetorical skills, more than a tale showing Jesus’ political prowess, more than a scriptural permission for Christians to pay taxes, and more than a handy reading to pull out and read for church pledge drives.
The gospel reading today is a challenge to us because we are all called to ask a few questions:
If we owe something to God, how do we tell what it is?
Just as the denarius bears Caesar’s image— what bears the image of God?
What is the currency of the Kingdom of God?
Does this have bearing on our politics today?
In asking these questions we are called to a process of formation; a process of sifting through our lives to find out what bears the image of what would want to rule over us in this world; and what bears the image of God. It is a matter of discerning what is from the kingdoms of this world, and what is part of the Kingdom of God.
This is an act of discernment that we engage on our own and in community.
What makes this task difficult is that we are not just in the world or just in sync with God. We are both of God and in the world.
We look at both the best and the worst of what we carry within us—our actions, our thoughts, our reactions—and like coins in our pockets, we prayerfully examine these things closely to see whose image we find on them.
Does this have bearing on our politics today?
In asking these questions we are called to a process of formation; a process of sifting through our lives to find out what bears the image of what would want to rule over us in this world; and what bears the image of God. It is a matter of discerning what is from the kingdoms of this world, and what is part of the Kingdom of God.
This is an act of discernment that we engage on our own and in community.
What makes this task difficult is that we are not just in the world or just in sync with God. We are both of God and in the world.
We look at both the best and the worst of what we carry within us—our actions, our thoughts, our reactions—and like coins in our pockets, we prayerfully examine these things closely to see whose image we find on them.
In allowing God to do this work inside us, we learn something about God and God’s desire for the world we see before us.
Then we begin to see the world according to the economy of the Kingdom of God—that every person bears the inscription of God. Remember the line from the Book of Genesis (1:27):
But sometimes that image of God in other people is hard to see. The world and other people try to stamp other inscriptions on us all. Inscriptions of race, gender, nationality, ability, wealth, and many others.
How do these inscriptions influence us to act?
To take a look around our country:
Inscriptions of race can determine whether one’s death is considered a tragedy or an event to be written off and ignored because the media reports that the person “was no angel.”
Inscriptions of gender can determine what positions one can hold in business, government, the church—if not on paper, at least in practice.
Inscriptions of nationality can determine whether or not one can be treated as a person by the government-- Whether or not one is known as an ‘illegal’ or subject to enhanced interrogation techniques, otherwise known as torture.
Inscriptions of ability can determine whether you are seen as a child of God or a cross to bear for family and friends.
Inscriptions of wealth can determine whether or not you are respected, or considered a human being of worth.
These inscriptions are powerful. They still have a hold on me: on how I see others and on how I see myself. It takes a daily effort not to see the person in front of us as the sum of what marks society inscribes on us, but as Children of God, bearing God’s image, and of precious worth.
Then we are called to act on our discernment. To act as though our recognition of what is God’s and what is the world’s has meaning that is more than a theological proposition, but a compass to guide our actions in life. This may have political consequences.
The effort is to see what God sees; to acknowledge the different set of standards of God’s Economy— an economy based on life, and redemption, and warmth, and love—instead of an economy of cold metal, and paper, and scarcity, and apathy.
Then we give to God what is God’s by recognizing the image of Christ in the stranger and the friend, the sick and the well, the hungry and the filled, the imprisoned and the powerful, the rich and especially the poor.
And ultimately, we may find that recognizing what belongs to God is more rewarding than to bow to the inscriptions the world fosters, or bow in homage to systems that betray or deny the inherent worth of others. In so doing, we give back to God— and give to neighbor— that which bears God’s inscription: love, hope, light, pardon, faith, and help.
To recognize the dignity of others in spite of what the world has set as important is a step toward acknowledging a part of the reign of God; and acting on that reality. The acknowledgement sets our sights higher than the powers and principalities and rulers and authorities of this world.
Then we begin to see the world according to the economy of the Kingdom of God—that every person bears the inscription of God. Remember the line from the Book of Genesis (1:27):
So God created humankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.This is the point of departure about who we as people of faith say we all are. And it was so important that it was repeated three times in the same breath. All humankind—all—bear the image that God created, the image shared by Christ when he walked the earth as God incarnate, and the image which the Spirit enlivens daily.
But sometimes that image of God in other people is hard to see. The world and other people try to stamp other inscriptions on us all. Inscriptions of race, gender, nationality, ability, wealth, and many others.
How do these inscriptions influence us to act?
To take a look around our country:
Inscriptions of race can determine whether one’s death is considered a tragedy or an event to be written off and ignored because the media reports that the person “was no angel.”
Inscriptions of gender can determine what positions one can hold in business, government, the church—if not on paper, at least in practice.
Inscriptions of nationality can determine whether or not one can be treated as a person by the government-- Whether or not one is known as an ‘illegal’ or subject to enhanced interrogation techniques, otherwise known as torture.
Inscriptions of ability can determine whether you are seen as a child of God or a cross to bear for family and friends.
Inscriptions of wealth can determine whether or not you are respected, or considered a human being of worth.
These inscriptions are powerful. They still have a hold on me: on how I see others and on how I see myself. It takes a daily effort not to see the person in front of us as the sum of what marks society inscribes on us, but as Children of God, bearing God’s image, and of precious worth.
Then we are called to act on our discernment. To act as though our recognition of what is God’s and what is the world’s has meaning that is more than a theological proposition, but a compass to guide our actions in life. This may have political consequences.
The effort is to see what God sees; to acknowledge the different set of standards of God’s Economy— an economy based on life, and redemption, and warmth, and love—instead of an economy of cold metal, and paper, and scarcity, and apathy.
Then we give to God what is God’s by recognizing the image of Christ in the stranger and the friend, the sick and the well, the hungry and the filled, the imprisoned and the powerful, the rich and especially the poor.
And ultimately, we may find that recognizing what belongs to God is more rewarding than to bow to the inscriptions the world fosters, or bow in homage to systems that betray or deny the inherent worth of others. In so doing, we give back to God— and give to neighbor— that which bears God’s inscription: love, hope, light, pardon, faith, and help.
To recognize the dignity of others in spite of what the world has set as important is a step toward acknowledging a part of the reign of God; and acting on that reality. The acknowledgement sets our sights higher than the powers and principalities and rulers and authorities of this world.
…and that may have political consequences.
May your discernment of what bears God’s image in your life be fruitful.
Amen.
May your discernment of what bears God’s image in your life be fruitful.
Amen.
