Unto Caesar
Scripture:
Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary
29), A.D. 2014 A
Sermon:
Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from
our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. AMEN.
Good morning, all. Seems it’s time once again to render unto
Caesar.
In this Sunday’s Gospel reading, a pair of rather odd
bedfellows come together in order to entrap Jesus within a clever little Catch
22. As usual, it has to do with politics. First Century Israel is a nation
under occupation by the mighty Roman Empire. The Herodians are Israelites loyal
to their Roman overlords and to the family of the Roman puppet-king Herod. We
might call the Herodians collaborators. The Pharisees, meanwhile, are Israelites
who dream of regaining their independence. They do not openly wage war against
Rome, but they do expect God to send the promised Messiah, who will surely lead
them to national freedom any day now.
Herodians and Pharisees don’t agree on much of anything—yet they
both view Jesus as a threat. The Herodians don’t want Him stirring the pot and
bringing down the wrath of Rome. The Pharisees don’t like that Jesus challenges
their authority and represents a very different sort of Messiah from the one
for whom they’d hoped. So these two parties put their heads together and unveil
their secret weapon: money.
Money has always been a tool of propaganda. The very fact
that some person or institution could possess the authority to mint and to regulate
the very medium through which people exchange their goods and services is an
incredible display of power. He who makes the money has his fingers in every
aspect of life. That’s why coins almost always have a face on one side and a
more elaborate image on the other. The face shows you who is in charge: the
president, the king, the emperor. And the obverse tells you what that person
stands for: his gods, his values, the priorities of his reign.
After all, what’s in your wallet? Look to the dollar bill.
On one side we have George Washington, chief amongst the Founding Fathers, first
President of these United States. On the back we have statements of national
values: in God we trust; a new order for the ages; e pluribus unum. The bald
eagle points to the eagle of the ancient Roman Republic in a uniquely American
guise. Here it holds arrows in one talon and olive branches in another,
signifying that the state has a monopoly on the powers of war and peace. Above
the eagle, 13 separate stars are arranged together in order to form one greater
star. Obviously that would be 13 colonies coming together as one nation.
There’s also an unfinished pyramid of 13 steps, indicating
the glory of human achievement in building this republic. Yet the capstone is
missing in order to remind us that the work is never done: that we must ever
strive for a more perfect union, a more just society, a more progressive
Enlightenment. Thus we see the eye of God over the pyramid, invoking the
blessings of Providence in our ongoing quest to perfect the American nation.
See what I mean? Power and propaganda, always in your
wallet, always passing through your fingers. It is a message about who’s in
charge, and what it is that they value. The same was true in Jesus’ day.
Obviously He didn’t have the dollar bill, but He did have the denarius tiberius.
Now a denarius is often called a penny, but that’s
misleading. For most folks in Jesus’ day, a denarius represented a full day’s
labor. The denarius tiberius was so-called simply because Tiberius was the
reigning emperor at the time, and so his profile was prominently displayed on
the coin along with the inscription, “Caesar August Tiberius, Son of the Divine
Augustus.” On the flipside sat an image of the goddess Pax, or Peace, showing
that the power of Rome brings peace to the conquered—that infamous Pax Romana.
I should note, by the way, that the goddess Pax on the back of the coin bears a
suspicious resemblance to Tiberius’ mother.
It had once been true that what separated East and West was
that the East worshipped their kings as gods on earth (think of Pharaoh) while the
West insisted upon the sort of self-rule we find in Greek democracy and the
Roman Republic. That all changed with Alexander the Great, who had no problem
being proclaimed a god like his ancestor Hercules. When Julius Caesar died, his
adopted son Augustus wasted no time in having the Roman Senate proclaim Caesar
a god. When Augusts died, his adopted son Tiberius did the same for him. Thus
began the Roman imperial cult, worshipping deified past emperors, and even the “genius”—that
is, the potential for godhood—present in the living emperor.
Thus the denarius tiberius was politics, power, and religion
all rolled up into one little old coin. Naturally this was the currency in
which all subjects of the Empire were to pay their taxes. And believe you me,
if the Romans took nothing else seriously, they were dead set about receiving
their tax revenues on time. For a number of reasons, this caused the Pharisees
consternation. Obviously they didn’t like paying taxes to a foreign power. But
worse than that, the coin in which they had to pay displayed graven images—a
goddess and the son of a god! For any scrupulous Jew, simply possessing this
coin, let alone paying it back to the Emperor, could be seen as violating at
least three different Commandments. But if you didn’t pay—well, we are talking
about the guy who has all the swords.
And this all brings us back to Jesus. The Pharisees and
Herodians get together to ask Him a simple question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes
to the emperor, or not?” Perhaps now we can appreciate just how loaded a
question this is. If Jesus says no, it is not lawful to pay Roman taxes, the
Herodians will denounce Him for treason against Rome. And if you think that isn’t
a big deal, keep in mind that Jesus is later crucified upon a Roman cross for just
such charges of treason. Yet if Jesus says yes, it is lawful to pay Roman
taxes, then the Pharisees will have discredited Him as a traitor to His people
and sympathizer to pagans, who handles false images and pays homage to false
gods. You see the trap? Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Whatever shall
He say?
“Show Me the coin used for the tax,” Jesus replies, and
someone, presumably a Herodian, obliges. Jesus holds up the denarius tiberius
and asks, “Now whose head is this, and whose title?” Well, Caesar Tiberius,
obviously, they say. And now Jesus delivers His famous retort: “Therefore render
unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
And His challengers are astounded and not knowing how to respond they go on
their way.
It’s a masterstroke, really. By responding thusly, Jesus
both satisfies and unsettles these two opposing extremes. Since the coin has
upon it the image of Tiberius, He says, clearly it belongs to Tiberius, to whom
we should simply return his property. Yet by playing upon this “image/likeness”
terminology, Jesus is recalling that we are all made in the Image of God, and
all must give themselves back to God, even the Emperor in Rome. The coin is
minted in Tiberius’ image, but Tiberius is minted in God’s. Neither the
Herodians nor the Pharisees can object to this. Even so, Jesus implies that had
Israel given to God His proper due in the first place, the Israelites would never
have fallen to Rome to begin with. It is an indictment of the sins of God’s own
people. God didn’t invite Rome in; Israel did.
But most importantly for us today, brothers and sisters,
Jesus here demonstrates the high-wire act required of His disciples, who
understand that we must live in the world while not being of the world. Our
Lord affirms the propriety of fulfilling civic duties: we are to pay taxes, to
serve in the military, to vote; and to obey the laws of the land to the best of
our ability. These are good things and as such are the work of God, who enjoins
justice and good order upon every society, be it Christian, Jewish, pagan, or
what-have-you. Yet Jesus also reminds us that in a world of competing
allegiances, our primary duty remains not to the nation or the market, nor even
to deified spirits of equality and democracy, but to our one true God and Lord
and King.
Life is often messy. We are pulled in various directions by
myriad commitments, and we must navigate in a world that does not privilege our
commitments to God. “Render unto Caesar” does not refer to a strict separation
of Church and State, which in all honesty has never truly existed in any
society. Rather, it is Jesus’ admonition that we be wise as serpents and innocent
as doves; that we participate in the good institutions of this nation and this
world, while ever recalling that our true citizenship resides not on this earth
but in Heaven. We are but sojourning pilgrims, strangers in a strange land.
Remember that whenever Jesus was confronted with stark
choices between left or right, fight or flight, He always found a Third Way:
His own path between extremes that somehow proved wiser and truer than either. May
we as Christians ever seek out this Third Way of Jesus Christ, the way of
humility and prayer. Perhaps grace shall then prove to be the true currency of
the realm.
In Jesus’ Name. AMEN.
Along with the bit about the gamel and the qoth, this bit shows off the Savior as clever, a quality that surely made Him doubly suspect.
ReplyDeleteDid the Jews of the 1st century believe that Roman domination was divine punishment?
Also, I can't keep straight the terms genius, daemon, and nous. How do _you_ remember?
The Talmud states that the destruction of the Temple was caused by Israel's "unwarranted hatred," and that God had refused to forgive His people on Yom Kippur for the 40 years leading up to the First Jewish War.That's more Second Century, but close enough, I figure.
ReplyDeletePlatonic terms get mushy even between the different Platonist schools, don't they? My default is to read nous as "soul" or inner awareness, daemon as outside influence or muse, and genius as the divine potential in man. Romans had an interesting distinction between deus and divus. I tend to read it as the difference between a PhD and an honorary doctorate.
Strictly speaking, daemons were beings of a middle nature between gods (in the celestial sphere) and men (in the terrestrial). St. Paul seems to touch on this with his bit about "powers of the air." The medieval synthesis grouped fairies, sidhe, goblins, elves and the like under the label "elemental" and assigned to them "subtle bodies" of "coagulated air". Theologians love coagulated air for whatever reason. Augustine believed that such was how the angels fashioned the Star of Bethlehem: coagulated air in the atmosphere, infused with light like a lamp and dragged across the sky.