"God and Caesar" - October 16, 2011

Text: Matthew 22:15-22

Read the paper almost any day, watch the news almost any evening, and you will find a story about taxes, probably more than one. 

Here in Ames, we are gearing up for a bond issue on a library addition and renovation.  The yard signs are going up just as they did when we voted on the school construction bond issue just a few weeks ago.  There was a story this week about a proposal to increase state gasoline taxes in order to maintain our highways.  Herman Cain has gained attention in the race for the Republican presidential nomination with his 9-9-9 tax plan.  The president’s jobs bill was voted down in the Senate because it included tax increases.  Many politicians have signed a pledge never to raise taxes, no matter what.

Taxes are a four-letter word for a lot of people.  But you know, the services provided by our taxes make a huge difference in our lives.  Personally, I don’t mind paying my fair share for so many things that benefit me and my family and our community.  Our street was repaved this past summer and it is nice to not have to drive over potholes all the time.  We have a great public library and I am glad to support it.  I am glad we have fire and police protection.  We have great schools in Ames and our daughter is receiving an excellent education at a public university.  Susan and I flew to Maine for vacation a couple of weeks ago, and I am glad that the Federal Aviation Administration has safety standards for aircraft.  That is a good thing.  I am glad that there were air traffic controllers and security personnel working at the airport.  We went to Acadia National Park and the White Mountain National Forest, and I am glad that we have beautiful places and unspoiled natural spaces in our country that are protected and maintained.  Taxes support a lot of important things, things that we need for society to function and things that we need for life to be richer and fuller and more enjoyable.

But imagine if our taxes did not go to support our schools and protect our streets and care for our elderly and maintain our roads and bridges and water systems.  What if, instead, our taxes were going to support a foreign government – a foreign power whose army was occupying our country.  What if our taxes went to prop up the empire that was oppressing us?  What if our taxes went to pay the enemy soldiers who were making our lives miserable?

That was life in Jesus’ day.  You think there are anti-tax people around now?  You think folks are up in arms about taxes today?  Just imagine what it would have been like in first century Israel. 

Jesus is asked a question about - taxes.  If taxes are a bit of a touchy issue today, they were absolutely explosive in his day.  The text says that Jesus was approached by two groups, some Pharisees and Herodians, with this question about taxes.

The Pharisees we know about.  Pious religious folks.  Leaders.  Upstanding citizens, people who followed the law closely.   The Herodians we know a lot less about; in fact, this is the only mention of the Herodians in the gospels.  But presumably they were supporters of Herod, the Jewish king who was essentially a puppet ruler.  Herod ruled only with the approval and support of Rome; he did whatever Rome told him to do.  So the Herodians were Jews who collaborated with the Roman overlords while the Pharisees were pious, strictly religious Jews who resented the Roman occupation.  The Pharisees wanted nothing to do with the dirty Romans.

Do you get the picture here?  The Pharisees and Herodians are not friends.  Far from it.  But they have made common cause against a common enemy.  They are brought together by their common disdain for Jesus, and they have a doozie of a question for him, one of those questions that no matter how you answer it, you get yourself in trouble.  It reminds me of the questions we would ask each other in junior high, questions like, “Are you the only ugly one in your family?”

 “Teacher, we know that you are sincere and teach the word of God in accordance with the truth...”  That’s funny; these people didn’t usually speak to Jesus with such respect and admiration and deference.  If they think he speaks the truth, why didn’t they act accordingly?  What is this all about?

When we are showered with unexpected compliments, we probably need to be a little wary—it might mean that someone wants us to do them a favor, or perhaps our kids have a big request to make, or some news to share that we may not want to hear.  Here, Jesus is buttered up by his questioners who were probably hoping to catch him with his defenses down.

We know you always speak the truth, Jesus, we know you always have the right answer, so here’s the question: is it permitted to pay taxes to Caesar or not?

It seems like a simple enough question.  And that’s all the Pharisees and Herodians want: just a simple answer.  The simpler, the better.  A simple yes or no would be great.  Because either way, Jesus would get himself in a mess of trouble.

No matter what Jesus says, he will alienate people.  To say “Yes, it is lawful to pay taxes to the emperor,” would mean alienating Jewish nationalists, who felt that paying taxes to Rome was intolerable.  He would lose standing with the people.  Who would follow a Jewish leader who was perceived to be in sympathy with Rome?  But to say No, taxes should not be paid to Caesar, would mean risking imprisonment by the Romans for insurrection.  So it is a perfect question for someone wanting to do damage to Jesus: he either loses credibility with the people, or he goes to jail.  You can’t ask for much more than that.

But Jesus sees the trap coming and he is way ahead of the Pharisees.  The text says that “he is aware of their malice.”  Those nice words probably helped to tip him off.

These were not people sincerely interested in his opinion.  In fact, they really didn’t care how he answered the question; they simply wanted to turn up the heat on him.

Jesus dispenses with the niceties.  We will see public figures asked hard questions, and they just kind of tiptoe around the answer with a smile on their face and a sweet disposition.  Not Jesus.  He is not into games.  He cuts to the chase.  “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?” he asks.  Because that is all it was, a test.  And to show their hypocrisy, he asks for a coin. 

They brought him a denarius, and he asked, “Whose image and title is this?”  They answered, perhaps somewhat sheepishly, “the emperor’s.”

The Jews considered a coin bearing the image of someone to be a graven image – an idol, specifically prohibited in the Ten Commandments.  A Roman coin bore the image of Caesar and the words “son of the divine Augustus,” a reminder of the emperor-worship of the Roman Empire.  The Jews considered this to be blasphemous.  It was unclean; it was “dirty money.”  This was such an issue that you could not bring this Roman money into the temple.  If you wanted to make an offering when you went to the temple, you had to convert your Roman money into temple coinage.  When Jesus drove the money-changers out of the temple, this is what they were doing – converting Roman currency into temple currency, and at a tidy profit.

Some Pharisees and Herodians had asked Jesus a question in order to trap him or at the very least to embarrass him.  But now, who was embarrassed?  Those questioning whether taxes should be paid to Caesar were shown to themselves be fully involved in the Roman economy, with its blasphemous money and all.  Whether it was OK to pay taxes to Rome was not a real question for them, and Jesus points this out in dramatic fashion. 

Do you ever wonder why they kept asking Jesus these kinds of questions?  Those who try to trip him up with trick questions always come off looking bad, but they just keep asking.

Jesus points out that whether to pay taxes to Caesar is not a real question for them, but then he goes on to answer it – at least, he engages the question.  He says, “Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”  It sounds brilliant, but then upon reflection we realize it really doesn’t answer the question.  It is left up to us to decide, what is Caesar’s and what is God’s?

What Jesus does is to reframe the question.  What is due Caesar, and what is due God?  What claims does Caesar have on us, and what claims does God have on us?

This passage is sometimes taken to be Jesus’ teaching on church and state, and while it no doubt has something to say about that issue, that is not the crux of what he is trying to get across.  The state, the government, may have claims on us, but so does God, and we have to weight this and struggle with this for ourselves.  We have to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling,” as Paul put it.

The question of the relationship between church and state has always been an important question for Baptists.  Our history and heritage is as a persecuted minority who understood all too well the coercive power of the state and who fought for religious freedom for all people, even those with whom we disagree.  Roger Williams, the first Baptist in America, was driven out of Massachusetts for his belief that one’s religious conscience was a private matter over which the state had no claim.  He established Rhode Island as a place that guaranteed religious freedom for all people, even those whom he generally despised, like the Quakers.  He disagreed vehemently with their beliefs, but we would fight for their right to believe and worship as their conscience dictated.  This was a remarkable position – Williams was literally a couple centuries or more ahead of his time.

There are a whole host of current issues involving questions of church and state, and Brent Walker will be addressing some of those questions when he is here with us two weeks from now.  The way we look at many of these issues comes down to this question that Jesus raises for us: What is due Caesar and what is due God?  The early Baptists answered this question by saying that the state had no claim whatsoever on one’s religious conscience and that for the state to impose its own brand of religion, whether emperor worship in Rome or Puritan religion in New England or even Baptist faith in Rhode Island, was to make a claim on individuals that was not the state’s to make.

Jesus’ answer gives us the opportunity to think on such matters, but as I mentioned earlier, this is not really Jesus’ main intent here.  The crux of what he is saying goes far deeper than church-state relations.  “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”

Jesus doesn’t really answer the question.  It is kind of thrown back at us.  But it is interesting to go back and consider the original question.  Jesus is asked if it is OK to pay Roman taxes.  That’s it.  There was no mention of God at all.

Caesar’s image was imprinted on the Roman coin.  But God’s image is imprinted on us – on every one of us.  The very first chapter of Genesis tells us that we are created in God’s image.  God is Creator of the whole world, the whole universe, every last atom.   Psalm 24 says, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness therof.”  It’s all God’s.  When we give to God the things that are God’s, there is nothing left for Caesar. 

Next to the Creator of the universe, Caesar becomes small and insignificant.  Caesar’s empire and Caesar’s image just don’t stack up against the greatness of God.

This story is not about taxes, not really.  It is about what belongs to God and what obedience to God looks like.

It is not that the government has no claims on us.  And it is not that we do not give allegiance to the state.  It is just that these claims are not ultimate claims on us.

Sometimes we want to neatly pigeonhole the various areas of our life.  We can be good at compartmentalizing: school is over here, work is over here, family is over here, church is over here.  We divide sacred and secular, public and private.  But this doesn’t hold true in God’s economy.  This doesn’t work in a world in which everything belongs to God.

What does it mean, in a world in which we pledge allegiance to so many things – not just the state, not just the flag, but work and family and clubs and organizations and friends and school and sports teams – what does it mean that our allegiance to God is ultimate, above all else?

Giving to God that things that are God’s, it seems to me, means remembering that we bear God’s image and acting with God’s love and mercy and compassion and working for God’s justice in all of the various arenas of our lives.  The fact that the trick question of the day for Jesus has to do with taxes and government leads us to reflect on how our allegiance to God plays out in the areas of politics and government.

I was moved by Johnie Hammond’s testimony last Sunday.  In the best tradition of Roger Williams – and Jesus, I think - Johnie’s work in government had to do with upholding freedom for all people.  And in the tradition of Matthew 25, she saw her work as serving Jesus by serving the sick and hungry and naked and the prisoner.

Entanglement between church and state is bad for both; we have known that since the time of Roger Williams and before.  But the separation of church and state does not mean the separation of Christians from public life.  

Marjorie Thompson wrote,

If the word I hear on Sunday has no bearing on the way I relate to my spouse, child, neighbor, or colleague; no bearing on how I make decisions, spend my resources, cast my vote, or offer my service, then my faith and my life are unrelated.  The spiritual life is not one slice in a larger loaf of reality but leaven for the whole loaf.

Caesar may be one slice, but God’s claims, and God’s grace, are found throughout the whole loaf.  May we be faithful in giving to God what is God’s.  Amen.

"Joining the Party" - October 9, 2011

Text: Matthew 22:1-14

Life is chock-full of invitations.  Invitations of all sorts.  As I mentally scan the past week, a lot of different invitations came my way.  In the mail, there was an invitation to join the American Association of Retired Persons.  They didn’t wait long on that, did they?  There was an invitation to attend a colleague’s installation service and several invitations to make contributions to charitable and educational institutions. 

Of course, there were all kinds of invitations that came through e-mail.  “Defeat Hair Loss with a Permanent Solution.”  “Stop Snoring and Start Living.”  “Learn the Tax Benefits of Incorporating in Nevada.”  “Pursue an education in medical assisting.”  “Order the YoshiKnife, a new ceramic blade guaranteed to stay sharp for life.”  And on and on it goes.  How did we ever get by without e-mail?

And then, there are those more personal invitations: to go to lunch or a ballgame or a movie or to play cards with friends.

Clearly, all invitations are not the same.  Responding to an invitation takes some discernment.  The YoshiKnife and the invitation to incorporate in Nevada were easy invitations to decline.  But many of the invitations that come our way are a bit more difficult.     

In Our New Testament lesson, Jesus tells the parable of the king whose son was being married.  Invitations went out for the gala event of the year: a royal wedding.  Invitations went to the A-list: the rich and famous, jet-setters, beautiful people, important people, the kind of people who deserved to be at a royal wedding.   

But surprisingly, shockingly, the invited guests couldn’t be bothered.  They are dismissive of the king and the invitation.  And when the invitation was issued a second time, some of the invited guests even killed the messengers.

This does not make the king happy, of course, and so he sends his army to destroy the murderers and burn their city to the ground.

Another invitation is issued.  This time not to the rich and famous, but to everyone else.  Invitations are sent to everyday people.  Invitations are sent to the down and out, to the have-nots and has-beens and ne’er-do-wells.  Everybody is invited, both the good and the bad.

Now, as stories go, it is little bit unrealistic.  It wouldn’t happen this way in real life.  I mean, when William and Kate were married back in April, everybody wanted to be there.  Not only did the invited guests attend, millions of people watched on TV around the world and thousands of people lined the streets just hoping for a glimpse of the bride and cheered as her car passed by.

Because it is so over the top, this parable lends itself to an allegorical interpretation in which the various characters represent different people.  It is an allegory of salvation history: the prophets proclaimed God’s invitation and were ignored and killed, and finally everyone is invited to the party, Gentiles included.  When we look at it this way, it is still a hard parable, we may still have some issues with it, but it might make a little more sense.

The basic comparison being made here is that life in God’s kingdom is like a party.  A party!  How often do we think of the church in this way?  Those great theologians of the 1970’s and 80’s, The Talking Heads, said, “This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no foolin’ around,” and that is the way we generally think of the church.  This is serious business.  A lot of things may come to mind when we hear the word “church,” but “party” is generally not one of them.   

But Jesus says that the Kingdom of God – God’s way, God’s movement - is like a party.  It’s not the first time Jesus has identified with parties.  In fact, when you read the gospels, it seems that Jesus is either at a party, like the wedding in Cana where he turns water into wine or a dinner party in someone’s home; or he is giving advice on party-giving, saying don’t just invite people who can afford to repay you, invite those who can’t return the favor; or he is telling a story about a party, like the prodigal son and the father who throws a big party upon his son’s return.

This image of a great feast didn’t originate with Jesus.  Isaiah 25:6 says, “On this mountain, the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines.” Scripture is full of festive meals, and the kingdom as a great banquet is found throughout scripture:  the Passover meal, the table prepared in the presence of enemies in Psalm 23, all of the references to Jesus eating and drinking with sinners, Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples, the breakfast by the sea after his resurrection, and the final wrap-up of the Bible, the marriage feast of the Lamb in Revelation 19, just to name a few.   There is this persistent theme of the kingdom of God as a big party.

By the time of Jesus, the Messianic Banquet had become a symbol of salvation.  The Essenes were a group of devout people looking for the Messiah.  They believed that the banquet would be connected with the Messiah’s coming, but they believed that invitations would be offered only to those who were wise, intelligent and perfect.

The religious leaders of Jesus’ day were quite different from the Essenes, but they agreed that only a limited pool of people were acceptable before God.  There was a sharp line drawn between those who were in and those who were out.  If you had money and came from the right family and kept the law, you were in.  If you had a disease or were in the wrong line of work, or were of the wrong ethnic heritage, you were out.  There were very particular ideas about who would and who would not be allowed in to the banquet.

Jesus’ parable challenges those rules.  Jesus’ parable, in fact, throws out those rules.  The invitation is not simply for the few, it is for everybody.  It is almost scandalous: the text says that all were invited, the good as well as the bad.  Everybody.  After the A-list refuses, everyone else accepts.  Everybody comes, and the place is just packed for the great wedding feast.

This is a parable of the wonderful, expansive, inclusive grace of God.  Everyone is invited.  Everyone is welcome.  You don’t have to be perfect; you don’t even have to be “good.”  You are invited.

The invitations have been sent.  They have been issued to everyone.  The only thing left to do, the only choice for us to make is whether we accept of refuse the invitation.

But the thing is, there is more than one way to refuse an invitation.  In the parable, there is this guy who seems to accept the invitation.  I mean, he is there, he arrives at the party.  But as it turns out, he is a party pooper.  He refuses to celebrate.  We have all seen it, and maybe we have all done it.  We go along out of obligation or guilt or maybe out of boredom, but we really don’t want to be there.  We keep looking at our watch.  We don’t really join the party.

There is this guy who accepts the invitation, but he is not wearing wedding clothes.  The result seems just a wee bit harsh: he is cast into the outer darkness.  Kind of a bummer don’t you think?  I hate it when that happens.  It seems like an overreaction on the king’s part.  What’s the big deal with clothes anyway?  If the king’s servants were just inviting anybody they could find from off the streets, you can’t expect them to all have a nice tuxedo or a formal dress.

Biblical scholars note a tradition that the host of such a party would provide dressy clothes for those who needed them.  So if this man had shown up with clothing that was not appropriate for the occasion, he would have been offered a robe to wear.  So, while this man was there, he had not really accepted the invitation.  He had not fully entered into the party.  It was another way of rejecting the invitation.

Woody Allen is known for a lot of quotable lines.  But maybe his most famous quote is this: “Ninety percent of life is just showing up.”

I’ve always liked that quote.  And there is a lot of truth there.  There is something to be said for being there.  But the reality is, it takes more than just showing up.

Just “showing up” at class might make you a student, but it is not going to write your paper or complete your project.  Just showing up is not enough to earn a degree.

Just “showing up” at your wedding might get you married, but it doesn’t build a living, loving, caring, give-and-take, make-it-through-the-hard-times relationship.

Just “showing up” at the birth of your child might make you a parent, but it does not make you a diaper-changing, up-all-night, doing homework, enforcing curfews, saving for college, Mom or Dad.

Just “showing up” at church on Sunday morning might make you a member in good standing, but it does not by itself put feet on your faith.  G. K. Chesterton used to say that “Just going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.” To be a Christian takes action; it takes a day-to-day commitment to follow Jesus wherever that leads.

In our Old Testament lesson, Moses is up on the mountain, receiving the Law.  He has been away for some time and people are getting antsy.  Folks are wondering if he is ever coming back.  And so they ask Aaron to make gods for them, to make an idol they might worship.  Aaron accepts the people’s invitation; he asks them to fork over their gold earrings, and they are melted down and molded into the form of a calf.  The people worship this golden calf, and God is none too happy about the development.

It is all about discernment, knowing when to say yes and when to say no.  Aaron easily turned his back on the God of Israel, the God who had delivered them from Pharoah.  The wedding guest and Aaron made the same mistake: they failed to recognize what really mattered, what was truly important. 

The story is told of a fisherman who was walking home one evening along the banks of a river, dreaming of what he could do if he were rich.  As he walked along he stepped on a leather pouch filled with what seemed to him to be small stones. 

Absentmindedly he picked up the pouch and began throwing pebbles into the water.  “When I am a rich man,” he said to himself, “I’ll have a beautiful house,” and he threw a pebble into the river.  “My wife and I will have servants and rich food and many fine things,” and he threw another pebble into the river.  This went on until there was just one stone left.  As he held it in his hand, a ray of light made it sparkle.  He realized it was a valuable gem.  He had been throwing away the riches in his hand, while he dreamed of riches in the future.

Those who refused the invitation to the wedding, and the one who showed up but then refused in his own way to join the celebration, failed to recognize the incredible gift they had been offered.

We are all invited to God’s party.  We are all offered God’s wonderful, marvelous, gracious invitation.  Every one of us.  To accept the invitation requires showing up, yes, but it requires more.  In the parable, the guests needed to change clothes.  In God’s kingdom, we are to change our lives.  We are called to not just be there but to be truly, fully present, to change our hearts and minds and spirits.  And then together, through God’s grace, we are called to change the world.  Amen.