"Whose image?" Sermon for Sunday 18 October 2020
Sermon for
Sunday 18 October 2020
Lutheran
Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem
The Rev.
Carrie Ballenger
Matthew 22:15-22
Let the words
of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my
rock and my redeemer. Amen.
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.”
OK, I have to say: Thank you, Jesus. But really…did we
have to deal with THIS text this week? Things have been rough lately. Couldn’t
we get an easier teaching to grapple with at this time?
But here we are, in the eleventy-seventh week of
Corona, in the last days before a huge election in my home country, with restrictions
being tentatively lifted in my adopted country after weeks of lockdown, and with
COVID cases rising in many surrounding countries, and Jesus wants us to
consider the relationship of church and state, of how a person of faith is to
relate to politics and especially to money.
All, right, here we go. I’ll do my best!
Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.
Many have grappled with this text in the past.
Martin Luther, writing around the time of the Great
Peasants’ Revolt of 1525, insisted that “render unto Caesar” proves Jesus wants
us to cooperate with governmental authority, to pay our taxes and be good citizens.
He writes: “Thus one must also bear the authority of the ruler. If he abuses
it, I am not therefore to bear him a grudge, nor take revenge of and punish him
with my hands. One must obey him solely for God's sake, for he stands in God's
stead. Let them impose taxes as intolerable as they may: one must obey them
and, suffer everything patiently, for God's sake.”
But India’s Mohandas Gandhi, on the other hand, saw it
differently, writing: “Jesus' whole preaching and practice point unmistakably
to noncooperation, which necessarily includes nonpayment of
taxes.” It may be interesting to remember that Gandhi led the Indian people in
resisting a British-imposed salt tax in 1930.
And then there’s the 20th Century champion of the
poor, American Catholic Dorothy Day, who suggests another way for a Christian
to deal with money: “The less you have of Caesar's, the less you have to render
to Caesar.”
I have to say: she’s not wrong.
“Give to the emperor the things that are the
emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” So does Jesus want us to pay
taxes, or not? Should we cooperate with secular authority or resist it? Should
we opt out of the system entirely, thereby owing nothing to Caesar? Which parts
of our lives belong to the empire, and which belong to God? And how do we tell
the difference?
More than once, I’ve heard church people say things
like “I don’t do politics” or, more often, “pastors shouldn’t do politics.” But
I always want to point folks to this passage and to notice that Jesus was, in
fact, “doing politics.” He was engaging in conversation, even provocation, over
issues of taxation and patriotism. In fact, provocation is the exact right word
for this teaching. Jesus is provoking the authorities. He refuses to answer the
question in a black and white way, which makes them (and us) uncomfortable. But
we don’t get a pass on difficult teachings just because they are difficult. That
discomfort is good. Discomfort is what makes us shift in our seats, reconsider our
position and (hopefully) to make a change when needed. Jesus is the master of
discomfort.
The religious authorities confronting Jesus that day were
wanting to trick him. They wanted him to “play politics” in the sense of declaring
his allegiance either to Caesar or to God. Either way, he would be in deep
trouble.
(by the way, on the topic of “playing politics”, I saw
a meme on social media this week which said “I stay out of politics is such a weird
way to spell ‘my rights as a human being aren’t up in the air every 4 years and
I have no problem with the fact that yours are.’”
Hmmm. Anyway.
These questioners were not really interested in church-state
issues, or patriotism, or taxation. They were mostly interested in catching
Jesus in a misstep. They wanted to trip him up, to bring him down, because he and
his teachings were a challenge to the status quo. They were a challenge to the
empire.
But Jesus didn’t play that game. Instead, he provoked both
the authorities and the system, leaving them with more questions than answers.
“They brought him a denarius. Then he said to them,
“Whose head is this, and whose title?”
Whose head, and whose title? Jesus diverts attention
from the system as it is and narrows our focus. Whose head is on this coin we
are arguing about?
The word translated as “head” here is “eikon”. We know
this word in English, too. We know what an icon is. It’s an image, often used
to describe a holy image. The icon on the coin in question is of Caesar. “So,”
says Jesus “give it to Caesar. But give what is God’s to God.”
So now we know what to do with the coin.
But what, exactly, bears the head, the icon, the image
of God?
You do.
All of you do.
All of us do.
Genesis chapter 1 says we all are created in the image
of God. Male and female, God created us. Human beings do not bear the image of
any emperor or president, we bear the image of a loving Parent, the Creator of
all things. Therefore, gold and silver may belong to Caesar, but you? You
belong to God.
It seems to me that at this moment in particular, when
elected world leaders are making life and death decisions about the heath and wellness
of us all, and when we are choosing those elected leaders; and in fact when we
are making life and death decisions as we leave our homes each day, it is
imperative that we ask ourselves:
“Whose image do my neighbors bear? Whose image do my
enemies bear? Whose image do refugees and immigrants bear? What about those who
vote differently from me? What about those who seem to actively undermine the
Gospel? What about those who deny the truth of the pandemic or seem to adhere
to a different version of reality than I do? Whose image do they bear?”
We must ask ourselves these questions because right
now, as elections loom before us and as decisions about the future of humanity
are literally being made every day, by leaders and by each of us, it matters how
we answer them. It matters that we see every human as being created in the
image of God. It matters that we see each person as an eikon/icon.
There are many icons here in Jerusalem. At Redeemer
church, we have just one image of Jesus at the front of the church, which makes
our worship space stand out as being very visibly Protestant. But in other
churches in the city, one can see many beautiful icons of Jesus, Mary, the Holy
Trinity, and countless holy people.
Growing up in a staunch Lutheran family, I often heard
the story that Catholics and others “worshiped” icons. Not true! Icons are not
worshiped. But living here in a largely Catholic and Orthodox Christian culture
I’ve learned that icons are treated with respect, because they are thought to
carry the image of God in them. For this reason, people pray in the presence of
icons. They light candles before them. They place them where they will be
protected and honored. They look upon them, and they see the eyes of God.
Dear siblings in Christ, if only we treated our fellow
humans in this way. If only we recognized the eikon, the image of God, in each
other. If only we recognized the image of God in those who are different from
us—even our enemies.
Scripture tells us what it is like when we come in the
presence of God. Those who see God tremble in awe. They bow in respect. They
sigh, and sing, and shout in praise. It’s not even a choice—it’s simply how it
is, when we come into the presence of the divine.
This is what it means to be pro-life, by the way: To
see the image of God in each human and to act accordingly. To be pro-life is to
be overcome with joy and awe and respect of the breath and heartbeat and
uniqueness of the life of every person in our midst, as well as for our own
breath and heartbeat and uniqueness.
“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.”
At this moment in history, we literally hold countless
human lives in our hands. Who we vote for, whether we wear masks or not, how we
spend our money and our time—this matters not only for one nation or one population,
but for the world. Whose head, and whose title? Who do these human lives belong
to? Jesus’ answer to the religious authorities in today’s reading may be provocative,
but it is also somewhat simple: It all belongs to the Lord. You all belong to
the Lord. We all belong to the Lord.
Let us act accordingly.
Let us vote accordingly.
Let us love accordingly.
Let us spend our money accordingly.
Let us spend our lives accordingly.
I heard a remarkable story this week.
In 1968, shortly after the 1967 Six Day’s War between Israel
and Palestine, the Rev. Simo Palosuo, director of the Luther College in Järvenpää, Finland, turned
50 years old. In honor of his birthday he asked family and friends to collect
funds to educate a Palestinian Christian in his institution. Once the funds
were collected, a message was sent to the German head of the Lutheran Church
here in Jerusalem, asking him to choose a young person who was interested in
studying to serve the church. The Propst spoke with the mother of Redeemer
church’s doorkeeper, a young Palestinian refugee who was about 19 years old. The
mother said “yes” but then had to convince the young man. He wasn’t too
interested in leaving Jerusalem to go to cold Finland. But his mother convinced
him, saying “Listen, Finland is a fine country. You’re doing this.” 6
weeks later he was in Helsinki. Three months after that, he had learned enough
Finnish to study theology in the Finnish language.
Nearly 30 years later, that young man was consecrated as bishop of the
Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land, and eventually was
elected as President of the Lutheran World Federation. Now, even in retirement,
Bishop Munib Younan continues to make an impact on the world through his ministry,
his writings, and his witness to the Gospel of love and liberation.
Why do I tell you this story? Because I am thinking of that pastor and
his 50th birthday wish. Perhaps I’m thinking on it because I’m
turning 48 in just a few weeks! But it’s more than that. Reflecting upon this
day’s Gospel lesson about the coin bearing the head of Caesar, and upon the
life of Rev. Palusuo and the impact he made on the life of one Palestinian
refugee, I am reminded:
We have this one voice to lift, in praise of God and in solidarity with
others. We have this one world, to love and to protect. And we have this one
life to live, a resource to spend as we are choose.
What if we rendered this life, this treasure, unto God, rather than the
empire? What if we gave what is God’s back to God, to the one who bears God’s
image? What if we spent our lives in radical love for our neighbors, in honor
of the image of God we see in them? What would the world look like if we
treated each person as an icon, deserving of all our respect, our honor, our care,
our masks, our vote, our love?
Thanks be to God for Rev. Palusuo and his 50th birthday gift
of love, which has multiplied across generations, and of Bishop Munib’s “yes”
in answer to the call.
And thanks be to God for our brother Jesus, who showed them—and us—the Way,
loving us to the cross and beyond.
May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and
minds in Christ Jesus. Amen
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