The choice between Caesar and God – between the ruling authorities and the claims of godly faithfulness – is not one I have ever consciously had to make. Such is life in a society where ‘ruling authority’ is always relatively benign. Most of us, most of the time, rejoice in the freedom of choice and action that goes with our kind of state authority. Sure, we’re aware that there are hiccups in the way it works occasionally – but we have statements of rights, courts, and public media to help sort out those times. How we relate to public authority isn’t something we have to concern ourselves with every day. In such circumstances it’s hard to hear and feel the full force of the question they tried to trick Jesus with that day. Being clear about what is Caesar’s and what is God’s isn’t in the forefront of our daily experience.
Contrast that with the experience of a friend of mine who was an ordained minister in apartheid South Africa. If we had been members of his congregation we would almost certainly be worshipping in a church that was racially segregated from other communities of the same denomination. In Tsidi’s church a large number of us may well not have seen our families since last Sunday as many fathers and mothers work in entirely different areas because of the race laws. Some of us won’t have seen or nearest and dearest for many months because they are not allowed to live with us. All of us would have been conscious that no matter how hard we strive we will always be second class citizens. The opportunities we see others taking advantage of will always be denied us. And that will be the inevitable lot of our children also. Broken families, long hours, low pay, and inferiority would have been our lot. In those circumstances the question of what is Caesar’s and what is God’s was an every day one.
Other friends from my past make a similar point: individuals who were born on the wrong side of the iron curtain and could hardly believe the easy freedoms I took for granted; or a co-worker who was a refugee from an oppressive South American regime – he delighted in the freedom of expression he now enjoyed but could never forget the family members who had been brutalised or others who had ‘disappeared.’ He found the way I and others of his present company took for granted the ability to say what you like almost scary. Coming from his experience, what is Caesar’s and what is God’s is a question never to be set aside even for a moment.
And so the question remains – it is a vital, life challenging question right now. Where people of violence have seized authority; where there is chaos and no authority seems to be able to content with death-dealing disease; where competing authority has plunged once peaceful towns into civil war and distress; and where once freedoms seemed within reach but now are being withdrawn with re-asserted oppression and authoritarianism. What is Caesar’s and what is God’s?
And I have to remember too that my easy-going accommodation of authority that I experience as benign isn’t how many others see it even in a liberal democracy. Folks pushed to the margins for whatever reason don’t experience authority as benign. Too many people feel that authority is against them – even here. It’s so hard for the relatively comfortable to hear that, let alone genuinely feel it. I remember a middle class rather refined elderly lady who after much heart-searching decided she had to tackle a local biking gang who were disturbing the neighbourhood. Summoning all the courage should could she went to meet them and came back a different person. ‘If you knew what these kids have to put up?’ she said. She became their friend and public advocate, her answer to the question of authority – what is Caesar’s and what is God’s? – changed forever.
‘Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God.’ Does Christ’s answer mean we can draw a firm line between what belongs to faith and what belongs to the world? Some have thought so, but I think not. I must hear and take to heart the profound daily challenge others know in the original question. Affluence and easy accommodation to authority must not be blinkers that stop us seeing the power of the question and the power of Christ’s answer.
The Pharisees and Herodians – groups usually with a profound animosity between them – join forces to publically put Jesus on the spot. If his reply to their tricky question was that he considered it unlawful to pay tax to the occupying imperial authority, no doubt they would have reported him for sedition to that very authority; an easy way to get rid of this populist teacher that both groups deeply resented. If, on the other hand he had replied that it was lawful he would appear to be kowtowing to that hated authority, discrediting himself in the eyes of the downtrodden who felt so severely the injustices of the occupiers. But it also went further than that because the kingly image on the coin served to underline how far the occupiers went to dishonour and discredit their faith. To the Jewish faithful this was a direct insult to God. What is Caesar’s and what is God’s was to them an everyday vital question that rubbed salt into their wounds. Indeed the payment of imperial taxes would be one of the issues that led to the destruction of their beloved Temple in the year 70. This is not a philosophical or rhetorical question – it’s matter of daily consequence.
And as a matter of daily consequence is how we should treat Jesus’ answer. The principle he gives us is that we are to be both citizens of our world and citizens of God’s kingdom. Don’t understand that as an injunction to do the minimum required by civil authority and in all others matters to keep yourself apart – but the exact opposite. It is our duty to give to Caesar, as it were, all that belongs to Caesar but not to give to that worldly authority what belongs to God. It is our duty and calling to be responsible citizens in our country and in the wider world, no matter how uncomfortable or inconvenient that responsibility is – compliance or protest may be required in that responsibility. But we are also citizens of God’s kingdom and this other citizenship must never be avoided. The two have to go together – no matter how hard the choices then become. We who experience authority as benign must listen eagerly to those who know in their own lives the challenge of those two citizenships.
The response of love and self-offering which God’s own self-offering and love draws from us must be applied to the social world. We cannot sit-back in a quietist spot and let the world pass us by for who can doubt the difference between the world as it is and the world God intends. God grant us the courage to stand with our suffering sisters and brothers for the world God asks of us. Give to God what is God’s and to Caesar only what is lawfully his.
Contrast that with the experience of a friend of mine who was an ordained minister in apartheid South Africa. If we had been members of his congregation we would almost certainly be worshipping in a church that was racially segregated from other communities of the same denomination. In Tsidi’s church a large number of us may well not have seen our families since last Sunday as many fathers and mothers work in entirely different areas because of the race laws. Some of us won’t have seen or nearest and dearest for many months because they are not allowed to live with us. All of us would have been conscious that no matter how hard we strive we will always be second class citizens. The opportunities we see others taking advantage of will always be denied us. And that will be the inevitable lot of our children also. Broken families, long hours, low pay, and inferiority would have been our lot. In those circumstances the question of what is Caesar’s and what is God’s was an every day one.
Other friends from my past make a similar point: individuals who were born on the wrong side of the iron curtain and could hardly believe the easy freedoms I took for granted; or a co-worker who was a refugee from an oppressive South American regime – he delighted in the freedom of expression he now enjoyed but could never forget the family members who had been brutalised or others who had ‘disappeared.’ He found the way I and others of his present company took for granted the ability to say what you like almost scary. Coming from his experience, what is Caesar’s and what is God’s is a question never to be set aside even for a moment.
And so the question remains – it is a vital, life challenging question right now. Where people of violence have seized authority; where there is chaos and no authority seems to be able to content with death-dealing disease; where competing authority has plunged once peaceful towns into civil war and distress; and where once freedoms seemed within reach but now are being withdrawn with re-asserted oppression and authoritarianism. What is Caesar’s and what is God’s?
And I have to remember too that my easy-going accommodation of authority that I experience as benign isn’t how many others see it even in a liberal democracy. Folks pushed to the margins for whatever reason don’t experience authority as benign. Too many people feel that authority is against them – even here. It’s so hard for the relatively comfortable to hear that, let alone genuinely feel it. I remember a middle class rather refined elderly lady who after much heart-searching decided she had to tackle a local biking gang who were disturbing the neighbourhood. Summoning all the courage should could she went to meet them and came back a different person. ‘If you knew what these kids have to put up?’ she said. She became their friend and public advocate, her answer to the question of authority – what is Caesar’s and what is God’s? – changed forever.
‘Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God.’ Does Christ’s answer mean we can draw a firm line between what belongs to faith and what belongs to the world? Some have thought so, but I think not. I must hear and take to heart the profound daily challenge others know in the original question. Affluence and easy accommodation to authority must not be blinkers that stop us seeing the power of the question and the power of Christ’s answer.
The Pharisees and Herodians – groups usually with a profound animosity between them – join forces to publically put Jesus on the spot. If his reply to their tricky question was that he considered it unlawful to pay tax to the occupying imperial authority, no doubt they would have reported him for sedition to that very authority; an easy way to get rid of this populist teacher that both groups deeply resented. If, on the other hand he had replied that it was lawful he would appear to be kowtowing to that hated authority, discrediting himself in the eyes of the downtrodden who felt so severely the injustices of the occupiers. But it also went further than that because the kingly image on the coin served to underline how far the occupiers went to dishonour and discredit their faith. To the Jewish faithful this was a direct insult to God. What is Caesar’s and what is God’s was to them an everyday vital question that rubbed salt into their wounds. Indeed the payment of imperial taxes would be one of the issues that led to the destruction of their beloved Temple in the year 70. This is not a philosophical or rhetorical question – it’s matter of daily consequence.
And as a matter of daily consequence is how we should treat Jesus’ answer. The principle he gives us is that we are to be both citizens of our world and citizens of God’s kingdom. Don’t understand that as an injunction to do the minimum required by civil authority and in all others matters to keep yourself apart – but the exact opposite. It is our duty to give to Caesar, as it were, all that belongs to Caesar but not to give to that worldly authority what belongs to God. It is our duty and calling to be responsible citizens in our country and in the wider world, no matter how uncomfortable or inconvenient that responsibility is – compliance or protest may be required in that responsibility. But we are also citizens of God’s kingdom and this other citizenship must never be avoided. The two have to go together – no matter how hard the choices then become. We who experience authority as benign must listen eagerly to those who know in their own lives the challenge of those two citizenships.
The response of love and self-offering which God’s own self-offering and love draws from us must be applied to the social world. We cannot sit-back in a quietist spot and let the world pass us by for who can doubt the difference between the world as it is and the world God intends. God grant us the courage to stand with our suffering sisters and brothers for the world God asks of us. Give to God what is God’s and to Caesar only what is lawfully his.
