Matthew 22:15-22

Oct 20, 2002

The Pharisees went and plotted to entrap Jesus 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.

“Two Different Worlds, we live in two different worlds,” was a popular song a number of years ago. That line was used in a newer song by Foreigner and even in a country western song. The line seems to have become a part of our cultural landscape.

As we come up to election day, we may be impressed that we live in two different worlds. Republicans vs. Democrats, liberals vs. conservatives, hawks vs. doves, we often seem to live in two different worlds or wonder if we inhabit the same world.

This sense of twoness was certainly a part of the day of Jesus. His life reflected this kind of twoness. The reality of the Roman occupation was visible everywhere. The promises of the Davidic tradition were evident in the Temple and the Scriptures. Some Jews had chosen to go along and do well in the current regime—realists, we might call them. Some other Jews had decided to resist the Romans and all their idolatrous ways—idealists we might call them.

Of course the realists imagined that the idealists were living in the past. The idealists believed that the realists had given up all that was sacred and in fact were living in violation of what God wished. The realists would have scoffed and said “Surely God is in charge and if the Romans rule the world, that must be the will of God.” Of course, that would only have infuriated the idealists, who often retreated to the countryside and plotted the overthrow Rome. The realists would have scoffed and said, “Your little band is going to overthrow the Roman Empire?’

Jesus of course belonged to a conquered people who nonetheless held on to covenant promises that David’s throne would be restored some day. Orthodox Jews in Israel this day hold out the hope that the Temple will be restored, even if it means destroying the Muslim Dome of the Rock, from which Mohammed is said to have ascended to heaven. It is 1300 years old and the oldest extant Muslim mosque.

The Romans of course cared nothing for all these quaint Jewish traditions and dreams. The legions of Rome marched across the known world and imposed the Roman ideal of what it means to be human and God have mercy on those who dared oppose them. About 30 years after the time Jesus, of course, the Romans would destroy the Temple altogether.

The Jews longed for justice and life under God; the Romans dreamed of victory and world civilization. Jewish prophets called people to obey the will of God. Roman emperors raised up their own images and proclaimed their own will. The people of the covenant struggled to live under the terms of the covenant. The people of the Roman short sword conquered and demanded tribute to Caesar. These were indeed two different worlds.

In today’s Gospel the Pharisees thought they had the better of Jesus by asking an impossible question, rather like asking a politician today, “Should we raise benefits for today’s retirees or should we make sure there are benefits for future retirees?” The “third rail of politics”—touch it and die. Their “gotcha” question was, “Should Jews pay taxes to the emperor?” Their question was, “are you an idealist or a realist?”

Jesus was not only the Christ, he was also remarkably quick of mind, even clever. “Show me a coin,” he says to the smirking Pharisees. They happily oblige. “Whose likeness is on the coin,” he continues. “Of course,” they say, “the emperor’s.” Looking them dead in their conniving eyes, he responds, “Then give to the emperor that which belongs to him and to God that which belongs to God.”

They have been had and they know it. Crestfallen, yet impressed, they retire, this son of a carpenter with no formal education having gotten the better of the best educated in all Judea. Those of us with advanced degrees perhaps ought to take notice!

Perhaps Jesus’ answer is merely clever. In philosophy, we would call his answer an analytic truth, like saying, “Never make it too small,” or “don’t cook it too long,” or “never pay more than you have to.” The sayings are true by definition.

As we look around the world as we see it, with bombings, snipers, and the likely prospect of war in the Middle East, we might be inclined to side with the idealists and run for the hills. We want to live in a different world. As I have said to you before, we may be fortunate to get through the next few years without a nuclear detonation of some kind. Remote Montana looks pretty good, or perhaps up by the boundary waters. Where they can’t find us and we can live our lives as we should, free from the contaminating world about us.

Or we might take the realist course and say, “This is the world as it is.” We have to go along if we are going to get along. So play the percentages, play by the rules, accept the fact that the world is fundamentally a corrupt place and do the best we can. Money goes to do good or to limit evil, and we learn that it lines the pockets of corrupt leaders around the world. Just the way it is. Herod was corrupt and brutal and so is Kim Il Sung the North Korean leader. Just the way it always has been. Get over it.

Jesus advocates a third course. He is not merely clever in his answer—though I still chuckle about how he outmaneuvered those wily Pharisees. Instead, there is a much deeper wisdom in his reply.

The Bible strives to convince us, across many books and many centuries of time, that there is no part of the human story where God is inactive. In rogue countries, in labs manufacturing weapons of mass death, in the lone wolf filling the chambers of his high-powered rifle—the Bible insists—God is there working to bring good from the tragedy of human hatred.

Long before the time of Jesus, Jews viewed Cyrus the Persian king with horror, as yet another pagan threat. Isaiah had another view and even called Cyrus “God’s anointed,” Christ in the Greek. God is in the business of calling the world to be the kind of world it should be. Even the strength of Cyrus turned out to be in the hands of God who “is the Lord, and there is no other.” Cyrus was instrumental in bringing the Jews home and the Bible, the synagogue, and later the church were the result.

No power on earth exists apart from the activity of God. No custom, no institution is removed from the dynamic movement of the Spirit. No human activity is at a safe distance from the judgment of God. No human leader or people are so divorced from God they are independent. “Ascribe to the Lord, you families of the peoples; ascribe to the Lord honor and power,” the Psalmist reminds us.

Jesus calls his follower not to the run-away talk of the idealist or the go-along and get-along talk of the realist. There is a holy third way of engaging the world, working for the good, and placing the meaning of our lives on the claim that God remains God. As a result, as we survey the world as it is—with its extraordinary range of beauty and barbarity—we can keep a knowing smile on our lips that—come what may, God will never rest until all is redeemed and set right.