The gospel reading
from Matthew presents a very short interrogation of Jesus by the Pharisees and
the Herodians. The Pharisees have showed
interest in the teachings of Jesus. They
are certainly intrigued by him, but at this point they have joined in
opposition with the Herodians, a group closely aligned with the Roman
occupation of the Jewish homeland. Matthew’s gospel is very clear that a trap
has been set for Jesus; as the Pharisees question him about the controversial
issue of paying taxes to the Roman government.
The attempt here is to lead Jesus into a public act of treason, so the
Romans can get rid of Jesus once and for all; and his troubling ministry can come
to an end without any further disturbance in the status quo.
What is really at
issue here is the radical personal relationship with God that Jesus has offered
to everyone regardless of political, economic, religious, and social standing;
who is righteous and who is not, who is in and who is out, has been brought
into question by this personal relationship Jesus has with God. Jesus has consorted with the unclean—with tax
collectors and sinners—and his teachings have certainly transcended the
religious requirements of Jewish Law, often times in direct violation of it. Jesus aims above the rules to the Spirit of
the Law. And perhaps most important,
Jesus calls God, the Master of the Universe, abba—a term of affection and intimacy. It is much more intimate than calling God his
father; it is more like “papa” or “daddy.”
This personal relationship has spilled over the walls of synagogue
observance; the relationship with God could be found, and should be found,
everywhere, and by everyone. This is the
source of the direct controversy with Jesus, but the Pharisees attack him by
way of indirection, by controversy in another area.
The gospel writer
Matthew assumes we know the possible responses of Jesus to this controversial
issue and its direct question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or
not?” As mentioned, there were Jews
working directly with Roman authority who supported the taxes collected for the
emperor. On the other side of the issue
were the Zealots who are waiting for Jesus to declare himself as a radical
messiah who will bring down the Roman Empire. And the Pharisees, for their part, hated the
taxes but feared the political repercussions of just the public position that they
are trying to get Jesus to take. So they
lay the groundwork for the treason of Jesus with flattery: “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.”
Jesus responds by
asking for a coin for examination. “’Whose
head is this and whose title?’ They
answered, ‘The emperor’s.’ ‘Give
therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the
things that are God’s.’”
The answer of
Jesus is provocative, and unexpected; he seems to condone and support the role
of the Roman state. The role of
government in our lives is legitimated by Jesus; there is no revolution here,
except in terms of the heart. We can
ponder just what our duty is to the legitimate need for government in our
lives. Yet what belongs to God is the
question still hanging in the air. What
percentage belongs to God?
With Parents’
Weekend coming next week, how much time do we owe to our parents? How much time and commitment do they owe to
their children? Have we given to them
what is their due? Have we rendered to
Caesar what is Caesar’s? How do we know
when we have done our time, and fulfilled our duty?
Pondering this
question, I was reminded of something that Abdulaziz Sachedina, the Professor
of Islamic Studies at the University
of Virginia, was fond of
saying to his son. At my request as
Chaplain to the University, he spoke and preached many times at my parish,
especially after the events of September 11th. The professor and his son would often
discuss, and argue, about the son’s decisions and his future. In frustration, the son would often say,
“Dad, you’ve had your life. This is my
life, and I get to make my own decisions.”
The professor’s response as a parent was always the same. “There is no such thing as your life and my life. There is only our life. Our
life together.” You can easily
imagine what the son had to say to this statement: “Dad, I really hate it when
you say that.” Between parent and child,
the compartments and fractions are broken down.
There are no percentages of time; there is only one time. There is only our time together.
“Give therefore to the emperor the things
that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” So what belongs to God? There are no percentages that can quantify
the debt we owe to God. There are no
compartments of worship, or church or chapel attendance that are sufficient, or
commensurate with, God’s abiding love for each of us. We are all beginners, all children, when it
comes to the terrifying depths of compassion and love that God has for each of
us.
In the reading
from Exodus this morning, the guidance of God is everything to the Jewish
people. Every single step by Moses in
the wilderness was a leap of faith. The
everyday world is much more mysterious when you begin to feel the presence of
God in your life. For the Israelites in
the wilderness, the presence of God, even the face of God, was very near. In his book Thoughts on Solitude, Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and
spiritual writer, wrote this about the wilderness in considering the Desert
Fathers, the early Christians who left society to live in the wilderness in
search of God.
“The Desert Fathers believed that
the wilderness had been created as supremely valuable in the eyes of God because
it was no value to men. The wasteland
was the land that could never be wasted because it offered them nothing. There was nothing to attract them. There was nothing to exploit. The desert was the region in which in which
the Chosen people had wandered for forty
years, cared for by God alone. They
could have reached the promised land in a few months if they traveled directly
to it. God’s plan was that they should
learn to love him in the wilderness and that they should always look back upon
the time in the desert as the idyllic time of their life with Him alone.”
The wilderness
comes in many forms. Our founder Father
Sill left his monastery on the Hudson River to
go out into the wilderness to found a school, one that would be different from
the other Eastern prep schools. It would
be a school for young men of modest means.
His initial fundraising efforts yielded a mere $300, but he kept going
forward. I can’t even imagine the number
of times this school might have failed.
But Father Sill persisted, and I have no doubt that he believed he was
guided by God. All of the little details
of running a school were put in the light of God’s guidance, including the
construction of this beautiful chapel where students might learn about the ways
in which we are always part of God’s plan.
What a wonderful journey this school has had, and all of us get to play
a part in a school that is now thriving.
It is humbling to be in this space together with the past in mind. We should always look back to the wilderness
of our origins as an idyllic time. The
wilderness is now a land of promise for all of us.
So back to Jesus
and his interrogation. How much do we
owe to God? The only answer is the one
that makes us whole: the answer is everything. There is not my life and God’s reality. There
is only our life. One life
together. We cannot stand on our own in
the face of such a debt; but we stand by grace, and faith, and the love that
surpasses understanding.
“Give therefore to the emperor the things
that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
