October 22, 2023 | Lectionary 29 | Pr. Craig Mueller
I’ll admit it. It’s a trick question. Are you more loyal to your country or to your faith?
Jesus gets a lot of trick questions. Questions like: is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor—to Caesar—or not? And sometimes we wish Jesus would just answer the question, instead of answering it with another question.
In these complex and complicated times, in these days of heartache and horror, fear and anger, I long for simpler times. Without war, violence, and political strife. On one hand, I am reminded how, despite wars in Ukraine and Israel and Palestine, we are living in one of the most peaceful times in history. And yet, recent barbaric killings take our breath away. The takeaway for me: human conflict and devastating war seem to go hand in hand with being human. And that’s a tough reality to face. You’d hope that with all our medical, technological, and psychological advances, we would have evolved a bit more.
So are you more loyal to your country or to your faith?
Today’s gospel could lead to church-state questions like: whether we are a Christian nation, whether churches or mosques or synagogues should display an American flag in their sanctuaries, whether taking a knee during the national anthem disrespects our country, and when free speech tumbles into hate speech.
The gospel hints at the relation between religion and politics, religion and money. High on the controversy meter for preachers. Like the Pharisees trapping Jesus, maybe some listeners to sermons on this text will try to trap their pastor. Maybe I need to be at the back of the church with a “take a number” sign, so you can register your objections!
It all begins with a coin. Do people carry coins anymore? Raise your hand. Our coins say: “In God, we trust.” Does that make us a Christian nation? Another complex question.
And could you name whose heads—or whose faces—are on our coins or dollar bills? Don’t think I can. In Jesus’ time, coins had the image of the emperor—Caesar—on them. Caesar was considered a god, and Mosaic law said graven images were idolatrous. Even holding a coin with the image on it was blasphemous. How ironic that the Pharisees are the ones who have coins in their pockets, so to speak.
The religious authorities are in Jesus’ face, plotting how to trap him. After all, Jesus is challenging authority, both political and religious, and it will lead to his arrest and eventual death.
At one point Martin Luther suggested that God works through spiritual means in the church and through temporal means in society to maintain peace and civility. Yet there are two sides to a coin. Things are more complicated than Luther’s assertion. Both church and government can work for good. And both do great harm as well.
Many Americans find it impossible to imagine the president not being Christian, or at least religious. Yet in our first reading, God uses Cyrus—a Persian, pagan Gentile ruler—to bring about divine purposes. Cyrus, who doesn’t even seem to know the Lord, is declared God’s anointed.
Some Christians used Cyrus to justify the questionable morals of a recent president. In 2018, one film about then President Trump has someone pick up a Bible, turn to today’s text in Isaiah 45, and announce that God has anointed Trump to be King Cyrus for our time, to restore crumbling walls from cultural collapse.
This leads to the complex problem of Christian nationalism. Do you have more faith in God or in country? Or do you just combine them as many Americans do? This would mean we are a Christian nation rooted in Christian values. Many white evangelicals espouse this. And there’s more. Usually Christian nationalists want an authoritarian leader, want to live in a country with other Christians, oppose pluralism, and are likely to believe that true patriots may need to resort to violence to save our country.
The issues of nationalism and authoritarianism are not just in this country. Consider how they part of global realities, the things we read and hear about every day. For example, outrage over barbaric killings on one side has led to retaliation with equal inhumanity. In other words, we become what we hate.
Whose image is on the coin? Caesar. Representing an authoritarian regime. In Jesus’ day, one that Forced the the people to live under Roman occupation.
Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. What does that mean for our loyalties, for our allegiances? To quote a line from our last hymn, how amid a history of oppression do we remain “true to our God, true to our native land?”
More questions than answers.
How do we give to God that things that are God’s? What are the idols that we worship today? In what or whom do we ultimately trust? How does our faith compel us to reflect on the ways we use our time, our money, our gifts, our passions?
The coin may have had the face of Caesar on it. Yet, we are the ones created in the divine image. We are stamped with God’s unconditional grace. We are coined to be bearers of divine mercy.
In our war-torn world, this is a game changer. Are we more loyal to our country or our faith? To being Muslim, Christian, Jewish? American, Palestinian, Israeli, Ukrainian, Russian?
Maybe our deeper loyalty is to the humanity of the other person, created in the divine image. If our national origin or our faith leads us to unspeakable acts of hatred, massacre, or violence, surely it is not of God.
It’s a trick question. Yes, we can love our country. Yes, we can love God and be loyal to our faith. Don’t just look at the face on the coin. Look at the faces of those who are dying and suffering and hurting.
And then come again to this place where walls come tumbling down. Where we learn to see faces in radical, new ways, even the faces of our enemies. Even those who look at religion, politics, the world, or our country in ways completely contrary to ours.
For when life is complicated and anything but simple, with so many unanswered questions and with so much uncertainty, it is not only what we give to God, but what God showers upon us: mercy. What we need more than anything: mercy. The hope for our wounded world: mercy.