Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

“Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Mt. 22:17

Gotcha!

We’re all familiar with “gotcha” politics. We witness it day after day after day.

This Sunday’s gospel sadly reminds us that verbal attempts to maliciously ensnare an enemy have a long history. Case in point: Today’s gospel where Jesus is initially approached in a very flattering way by his opponents.

First he is complimented, told how “faithful” he is and praised for being “un-concerned” with people’s opinions. This “charm offensive” is then topped off with the ultimate praise: “you do not regard a person’s status.”

Then, slyly, in the form of an apparently innocent question, comes the “gotcha.”

“Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”

What Jesus is being asked refers to a particular tax that was exacted by the Romans from men, women, and slaves – ages twelve to sixty-five! And this was just one of the many taxes that first century Jews had to pay the Romans: temple taxes, land taxes, and custom taxes, among others.

The burden of all these tolls was enormous.

But the one Jesus is asked about by his enemies was particularly galling to the Jews because it was intended to humiliate them by demanding that they pay a tax used by the Romans to oppress them!

Even worse, the coin that was used to pay the tax was engraved with a picture of Tiberius Caesar along with a proclamation of his divinity.

This was utter blasphemy to the Jews because it forced them to break the first of all commandments:

“Thou shalt not have false gods before me.”

And, if that humiliation was not enough, the amount of the tax represented a full day’s pay. Once again, the poor were driven further into debt, dependency and despair.

Jesus is now cornered, purposely put in a complicated dilemma.

If Jesus agrees to the tax, he will be seen as a traitor to the people, and one who encourages breaking a commandment of God.

If Jesus renounces the tax, he becomes a rebel against the state.

Bottom line: either he betrays his people, or he declares war on Rome.

Instead of falling for the either/or sucker’s choice, though, what Jesus masterfully does is raise the ethical bar.

He begins by rebuking the Jewish leaders’ question by calling them “hypocrites” because they honor the pagan emperor so that they can collude with him to gain wealth and power, and because they neglect their true citizenship in God’s kingdom.

Then Jesus answers their question with one of his own:

“Whose image is it, and whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” he’s told. “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”

Unfortunately, Jesus’ response in this situation has often been misunderstood. It has been seen by many as an excuse for separating our civic obligations from the requirements of our faith life.

The result of this interpretation has been to create two separate worlds: one for our social and political life, and another for our faith life.

Possibly the most graphic depiction of this split between two worlds – the spiritual and the worldly – is powerfully dramatized in what a critic called “one of the most masterful scenes ever in a movie”: the baptism of the godson in The Godfather, Part One.

The scene is classic: a darkened church, the organ playing sonorously, the family gathered around the baptismal font, and the priest asking the godfather, played by Al Pacino, a searing question that echoes off the walls:

“Do you renounce Satan?”

Just then the scene switches to one of the godfather’s men kicking in a door and murdering someone.

The scene then shifts to the other-worldly atmosphere of the church with the organ now soaring in the background.

“I do renounce him,” says the godfather solemnly.

Again the scene changes to a second murder.

Then, back to the quiet and the gravity of the church. The priest then asks the next question:

“And all his works?”

The scene suddenly switches to another hideous execution. Then back to the church. The godfather speaks softly again:

“I do renounce them.”

After which we witness yet another murderous spectacle.

Again back to the church. The priest asks still another question:

“And all his pomps?”

Another terrible scene takes place and is followed by Pacino answering softly:

“I do renounce them.”

This kind of separation into two worlds is clearly not what Jesus intended by the question posed in today’s gospel.

Instead, this gospel confrontation is meant to urge each of us to recognize to whom we ultimately belong and in whose image we have been created. We’re reminded that our allegiance, our fidelity, is to the one true Lord – not to any modern day Caesar.

Today’s gospel is underscoring the ultimate truth that there are not two separate worlds in which we live – only one:

“what belongs to God.”

This understanding, this conviction, should influence every dimension of how we live, and permeate every choice we make. For, as Psalm 24 reminds us:

“The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it.”

The two worlds are to become one in Jesus.

The two worlds are to become one in embracing the values of the Kingdom of God that Jesus preached: a kingdom in which mercy and peace reign supreme; a kingdom in which all people can live with dignity; a kingdom in which the promise of hope and liberation can be shared by all.

Perhaps the prophet Isaiah, speaking on behalf of God in our first reading today,  said it best when he proclaimed:

“I am the Lord, there is no other.”

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.

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10/19/17