Sermon Preached for Zion Episcopal Church
Year A Proper 24 – October 22, 2017
Oconmowoc, Wisconsin
(Lectionary Readings: Exodus 33:12-23, 1Thessalonians 1:1-10, Matthew 22:15-22)
I have to admit, when I first looked at the readings for this Sunday, I thought “You have got to be kidding me.” At first I was brimming with nervous excitement at the thought of sharing the word with you – my brothers and sisters – here at Zion.
Yet here we are, left with a passage
in which Jesus talks about taxes. Great.
Someone thought it was a good idea for
a millennial in his mid-twenties to get up and talk to Christ’s beloved about
the economy… (My brothers and sisters) We’re off to a great start…
Thankfully,
while a reading of economic responsibility and good citizenship is certainly
one possible reading of this text – I’m not entirely sure that was the main point that Jesus was trying to
make.
Though the Pharisees and the Herodians of today’s lesson were indeed challenging Jesus about the
payment of taxes to the Roman state, we once again find our Lord turning the
question around to discuss something much bigger – an economy that far
surpasses the economic systems of our world – a Divine economy – the very
economy of salvation.
Allow
me to provide a bit of context for today’s gospel lesson. At this point in the gospel according to
Matthew. Jesus has already made his triumphal entry to Jerusalem (on the back
of a donkey), he has already caused a rukus in the temple by flipping tables
and disrupting the daily life of the people in that Holy Place, he has told
parables which directly challenge the authority of his people’s religious
leaders – those same leaders who are, at this point, infuriated by this man who deliberately seems to be upsetting the
status quo;
This man who claims to be teaching the
ways of righteousness, yet whose actions seem to be irreverent at best, and, at
worst outright blasphemous.
The opponents of our Lord now sought
to trip him up in some way; so as to either discredit him in the eyes of the
people, or (perhaps better yet) get him into trouble with the Roman
authorities.
Now our scene is set…
As Jesus is teaching in the temple,
the Herodians and the disciples of the Pharisees present him with a question:
“Is it lawful for us to pay taxes to
the emperor?”
The question may seem simple enough to
our ears, but is in fact loaded with both political and theological
implications. The Roman Emperor was both a political and religious figure. Not
only was he the leader of the Roman state, but he was also considered a
quasi-god by the Romans.
Therefore, if Jesus would have answered,
“Yes, you should pay taxes to the emperor,” he would have been seen as a blasphemer
and a Roman sympathizer – one who supports the occupation of their homeland by
an Emperor who calls himself God.
By answering “yes,” Jesus would have
been discredited in the eyes of the people, who, if stirred up enough, could
have easily been aroused to violence against him.
If he would have answered “no” – then
his opponents could have simply handed him over to the Roman authorities as a
traitor to the state… The Romans would take care of the rest.
So in truth, there was really no good answer to this question.
Instead of answering, Jesus
immediately calls out the hypocrisy inherent in the trap they have set.
He asks for a denarius, the official coinage of the Roman state.
On it you would
probably find an image of the Roman Emperor Tiberius and proclamations of that emperor’s
divinity – to possess such an image within the Holy Precincts of the Temple
would be considered absolutely blasphemous.
In asking for the coin, we are to assume
that Jesus did not have a denarius on
his person; but, lo and behold, his
opponents were quickly able to produce one.
Our Lord then has them identify the
person depicted on the coin to which they reply, “Caesar.”
With that answer, Jesus completely dismisses
their original question.
“If it obviously belongs to Caesar,
then you should give it back to Caesar.”
At that point the issue isn’t even
about payment so much as it is “giving something back.”
“If you want to bear Caesar’s image and participate in his economy, then
you should follow the rules of that game.”
This answer alone would satisfy the
requirements of the question that was originally asked, but Jesus keeps going:
Give “to the emperor the things that
are the emperor’s, and give to God the things that are God’s.”
Remember, the emperor claimed to be
Divine – there was no separation of Church and state as we understand it today.
Yet here we have Jesus making a sharp
distinction between the worldly
economy of the emperor and the Divine economy of God – inviting us
to shift our focus from the affairs of worldly empires towards participation in
an economy that truly leads to our
salvation.
And so, rather than spending our time
focused on the monopoly money of our human society, and bearing the image of
Caesar(s) (and little moustached men with monocles and top hats). Christ calls
us to consider the Image already
imprinted upon us.
We are made in the very Image of God.
That Image (whatever that is) is pressed
into the very fabric of our Human existence. And while the grace of God seeks
to constantly renew and refine that Image within us, we also have the ability to
deny that grace and allow our Image-ness to tarnish be covered up with the
grime of sin.
Yet in Jesus Christ, who is the Second
Person of the Trinity and the True and Perfect
Image of the Father, we find the Image of God restored in us. In some fundamental
way, we are called and empowered, as Human Beings, to display something of Who
God Is.
But as “Bearers of God’s Image,” how
are we to “give to God what is God’s” ?
God already knows who God is, so our
Image-ness doesn’t really serve to show God any more than God already
knows.
God is also the only one who can ever
really know who God is, being that God is necessarily infinite and more
glorious than we can ever fathom.
Consider our reading from Exodus:
After his prayer of intersession,
Moses asks God to appear to him in the fullness of Gory. God grants his
request, and says that he will indeed pass by, yet will not reveal his Face to
Moses, only his Back.
“For no one shall see me and live.”
Even
Moses, “the Law-giver,” the one who spoke to God “as with a friend” could not
look fully into the face of God without perishing. Yet still God comes, proclaiming
the Divine “I AM” and pronouncing grace and mercy as hallmarks of His
Divinity.
As
finite, mortal beings, we cannot possibly hope to gaze upon, let alone
comprehend, the Face of the infinite God. Yet in the Incarnation we are given
the Way.
In the person of Jesus of Nazareth, God and humanity meet and are
irrevocably united. By allowing ourselves to be united to Christ in Holy
Communion, we are constantly renewed into ever more perfected “Images” of
Christ. Becoming truer images as we draw ever closer to the One who is the
Truest Image of God.
It
thus becomes the human project (the human “role” in the economy of God), to
constantly have the Image of God refined within us as we seek to embody an ever
deepening understanding of who God is (gracious, merciful, self-revealing).
And
part of what it means to bare the Image of Christ (and therefore the Image of
God) is manifesting the self-revealing love of God. The drive to make the
transforming love of God known in all the world, so that all the world might
participate in His life.
This
is what we owe to the One who imprinted us with His Image in the first place.
While
there are countless saints and Holy men and women who have borne the Image of
God and acted as true Icons of Christ throughout history, my mind keeps
returning to one particular individual.
After
the events of the past week I can’t help but think of Daniel Westberg. As many
of you know, Fr. Westberg passed from beyond our midst after a boating accident
which occurred less than a week ago. The suddenness of the event sent a
shockwave throughout the Nashotah House community. For us and for many others,
Father Westberg had borne the Image of Christ in his love, in his wit - in his
constant pursuit to know God more and more; and to reflect the love of the God
he knew.
The
morning before his death, the residential community was privileged to see
Father Westberg at his absolute finest. He was both the celebrant of the
Eucharist that day as well as the Preacher.
We were privileged to see a man fully living into his vocation as a
priest of Christ’s church.
Fr.
Westberg, in his very Fr. Westberg-ness, revealed something of God to us in
such a way that we are all better off for having known him and for having
interacted with him. And yet, at his passing, there is also a great feeling of
deficit. It is as if a treasure has been plucked from among us, leaving a great
vacuum in the Divine economy of Christian community.
It’s
as if something of God has left us.
And
yet, in the midst of this tragedy I watched something beautiful take shape over
the course of the week. In the wake of this deficit, in the face of this loss,
we all strove to bear the love and compassion of God for each other. Though we
all felt debilitated, to some degree - that something had been taken from our community
- we attempted to inhabit that void with our Love for each other. Our communal
desire to reflect the loving and healing presence of Christ to each other in such a dark time.
Beloved
we all know that there are times when God seems particularly far away. But in all times, it is our vocation as
Christians (or “little Christs”) to bear the Image of God for each other and to ever draw more of the Image out of each other.
This
is how we participate in that Divine Economy.
My
beloved brothers and sisters, we are (each of us) called to be Icons of Christ
and bear the restored Image of God to the whole Created Order.
Pray
that we may ever seek a better understanding who God is and a deeper knowledge
of His Love for us, that as we grow in our understanding of God we strive to
become ever more refined bearers of His Image. Amen.
