October 18, 2020
Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap
him in what he said. So they sent their disciples to him, along with the
Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of
God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not
regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful
to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice,
said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the
coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. Then he said to
them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” They answered, “The
emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things
that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” When they
heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.
Of all the questions they put to Jesus, this is the first question his challengers ask: should we pay our taxes, yes or no? They want his opinion about that.
Those in authority have already questioned his authority, essentially asking, “Who do you think you are?” (21:23-27) He doesn’t answer. As we already learn from conversations with his disciples, Jesus wants to know who they think he is (16:13-20). His true identity is something they have to figure out. So he doesn’t answer and goes on his way.
But now there are interrogators buzzing around his head like hornets. He has stirred up the hive, both in his elusiveness and some of those ornery parables we have been hearing this fall. So they swarm the Savior and come at him, stinger first, “Tell us about taxes. Yes or no? What do you think?”
Those of us with grown children remember the look on their faces. So excited to get a real job! Two weeks later, so ecstatic to get the first real paycheck. The envelope is opened. There’s a moment of silence. And the question comes, “Where’s all the money? Why isn’t it all here?” Welcome to adulthood, honey. Taxes are a part of life.
“Hey Jesus, should we pay our taxes?” It’s a worthy question -- if you have a choice about it.
Most of us don’t have a choice. In the attorney’s conference room to sign my first mortgage, I wondered out loud. “If the bank owns my house for the next thirty years, shouldn’t the bank pay the taxes?” My good attorney smiled and said, “It doesn’t work that way.” He paused and said, “Wish it did.”
For us, maybe the better questions are these: do you want teachers to be paid a living wage? Would you like public safety officers to be protected? Would you like to have straight roads without potholes? Well, maybe we should skip over that one. The greater point was well made by Oliver Wendell Holmes, the Supreme Court justice. He said, “Taxes are what we pay for civilized society.” We all need use a heavy dose of civilization, don’t you think?
Here in the Gospel of Matthew, it's curious that Jesus has already been asked if he pays his taxes. Back in chapter 17, the collectors asked if he paid the “temple tax.” The answer was yes, he does (Matthew 17:24-25). What was the temple tax? In that day, every Jewish male over the age of twenty was required to give two days’ wages every year to support the buildings and grounds of the Jerusalem Temple. You couldn’t worship there without supporting that institution. This tax was in addition to the ten percent tithe required by the Bible.
And
you’ll be glad to know this is not what the Pharisees and Herodians were
asking about. No, it was assumed that every believer supported the upkeep of
the Temple and made their tithe to God. That was not the issue.
No,
they were asking about the tax – the Empire Tax – the tax laid on their shoulders
by Tiberius Caesar. He didn’t live in Jerusalem. He lived in Rome. He lived in
an opulent palace in Rome and stationed his soldiers in Jerusalem to keep the
Jewish citizens under his heavy foot.
Tiberius was not one of the better Caesars in Roman history. He built great roads, but he was reviled for his corruption. To quote the Roman historian Tacitus, “(Tiberius) was infamous for his cruelty and his veiled debaucheries. At the end, he plunged into every wickedness and disgrace; when fear and shame being cast off, he simply indulged his own inclinations.”
And the Pharisees and the Herodians ask Jesus, “Are you going to pay your taxes to support that guy?” It’s a good question, a really good question. It’s such a good question that they think they have him up against a wall.
On the one hand, if he pays the tax to Tiberius, he loses credibility with many of the people. For twenty-five years they have begrudgingly paid taxes to the Empire that occupied their towns and oppressed their lives. They protested the tax as an illegal act and moral outrage. If Jesus says, “pay it,” he loses the people who love him.
On the other hand, if Jesus says, “No, don’t pay any taxes to Tiberius,” one of the Herodians will whistle for the centurions to move in, grab this agitator, and get rid of him on their behalf. They think they’ve got him. They question Jesus with all the greasy smarminess they can muster. “Good Teacher, we know you’re fair, we know you’re impartial, we know you’re wise, yada yada yada…”
As we know, he replies with a brilliant answer that sets them back on their heels. “Who’s got a quarter?” he asks. Whose image is on that coin? Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. Give to God what belongs to God. And they are speechless. They had nothing to say. They stood frozen with their jaws open. Then they shuffled away.
They should have known better than wrestle with the Christ. The same imagination that created the parables that we’ve been hearing this fall is the imaginative mind that raises three important questions, questions still with us, questions which do not easily settle into oblivion.
First question: whose image is on the coin? That’s the literal translation: whose image? The word is ikon, and it’s a loaded term. According to the ancient story, when God made human people, God scooped up mud from the river back, shaped it, and blew holy breath into the nostrils. It came alive when it could breathe – that’s the Bible’s view of when life begins, when we breathe. God said, “This is good. Very, very good.” And the Bible declares we are created in the ikon of God – the image.
That is why the Bible commands us, “Don’t make any fake images,” and if you do, “don’t bow down before them.” That’s the Second Big Commandment.
So let me ask you this: What’s a Pharisee doing, within the precincts of the Jerusalem Temple, with a Roman coin in his pocket? On the face of that coin is the icon of Tiberius Caesar. Around it is the inscription, “Son of the Divine Augustus.” Biblically speaking, it’s a graven image, a small circular metallic idol. There were money changers at the gate, so nobody would dare to bring such a secular coin, a denarius, inside the Temple court.
But notice this. Jesus does not criticize the presence of that coin. Nor does he critique the mingling of sacred and secular. Why? If he were a purist, someone so heavenly would have nothing to do with earth or as tempting as money. But we believe he is the Incarnate Son of God, the marriage of heaven and earth walking around on two legs. He has set aside all heavenly privilege to live with us. Jesus is the complete Image of God, and a good part of his work is to restore God’s Image in us. It is a work still in progress.
So that points to the second question: what belongs to Caesar? There are two answers: not as much as Caesar thinks, and more than Caesar realizes.
If Presbyterians know about anything, we know about government. We know a government is necessary for order and protection. A government is called to care for its people and cultivate their ability to flourish. A government cannot exist on pure oxygen; it needs funding to function, and financial oversight to function responsibly. And the other thing know is a government lives only by the voice of the people who are governed.
No government carries out these functions perfectly because governments consist of imperfect people. Some of them are sufficiently imperfect to believe they are doing a better job than they actually are. Our spiritual tradition tells us why this is the case. Political authority creates its own blind spots. Power is easily corrupted. That’s why Presbyterians have always insisted on systems of checks and balances, so that power can be shared, and authority can be held accountable.
What belongs to Caesar? The people, for one thing. The common good, for another. Neither the people nor the common good are served by a government that ignores them. And a government that can be bought or sold by the few will never provide for the needs of the many. That was the crisis of the Roman Empire which led to its inevitable collapse. The empire demanded a tax from those who would never benefit from it.
Here's the third question: what belongs to God? The best answer is everything. Today we opened with a line from the 24th Psalm. The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof. If Jesus unites heaven and earth, there is no place where God cannot reach. There is no sphere of influence that can totally exclude God’s influence.
Theologian Stanley Hauerwas reminds us that the pronouncement of Jesus is often misunderstood. We hear Jesus say, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, Give to God what belongs to God,” and we are tempted to believe there are dual allegiances – one to Caesar and country, and another to God.[1] Well, no. There is only one allegiance and that is to God. When we serve our country, it is one expression of how we serve the Only God to whom everything belongs. Caesar only exists because of the grace of God. Should Caesar ever be replaced, that also happens by the grace of God.
We know whose image is on the face of our coins. But whose image is on your face or mine? Whose image is on the face of friend or foe? It is the image of God. Looking at you, I see a striking family resemblance. That is why we value one another. That’s why we engage in God’s world. That’s why we vote, and we work to improve human government. That’s why we kneel beside those in need and care for one another.
And that’s why we pay attention to what we do with our money. Jesus did not dismiss the question about taxes because he knows we always must make choices. He didn’t spiritualize the matter of money because he knows money buys bread. As much as he knows the love of money can tempt us to evil deeds, he knows that money can also empower good works. Christ entrusts us with the stewardship of our choices. He calls us to bear the image of God in all that we do, all that we give, and all that we love.
This is hard work. It’s grown-up work. Just as we noticed the shock on a kid’s face when she learns taxes were deducted from that first paycheck, so we acknowledge our lives are full of responsibilities. Some responsibilities come as a surprise. Other are welcomed joyfully. Still others shake us from complacency by their demands.
Beneath it all is a question you can answer. It is the question that never goes away. In case you forgot the question, here it is again. What belongs to God?
I
think you know the answer.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Stanley Hauerwas, Matthew:
Brazos Theological Commentary (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2015), pp.
190-191.
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