PUTTING A QUESTION IN CONTEXT

The context of today’s Gospel, taking place only days before Jesus’ death, is a Jerusalem as dangerously political and contested as anywhere today. The Roman
governor, Pontius Pilate, was backed by a garrison of soldiers, but it was the local politics that were particularly unstable. Factions included the Herodians, clients of King Herod of Galilee looking for Rome’s help to reclaim his father’s rule over Jerusalem; the Sadducees, priestly families who controlled the Temple; the Pharisees, who promoted a more detailed adherence to Scripture; and the zealots, looking to overthrow the Romans. Stakes were high: Luke’s Gospel speaks of the Roman authorities killing Galileans (13:4), and the murderer Barabbas, whom the crowd choose to free instead of Jesus, had been imprisoned as part of a group of violent insurrectionists. Add to the mix Jewish families and converts travelling to Jerusalem for Passover from across North Africa and the Middle East and we can imagine a packed city swirling with political tensions.

Into this powder keg, Jesus makes his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, already knowing that the Pharisees and chief priests were plotting to kill him (John 11:45-57). Riding on a donkey as the Messiah was prophesied to do, his followers acclaimed him as king and the ‘Son of David’. The religious authorities, fearful of the Roman response, ask Jesus to get his followers under control. Far from paying them any heed, Jesus enters the Temple and drives out the money changers. Teaching through the parables of the wicked tenants and the wedding feast, he continues to announce a very different kingdom of Heaven, one in which ‘the stone which the builders rejected becomes the corner stone’ (Matthew 21:42).

WHOSE IMAGE? WHOSE AUTHORITY?

This background might explain one of the puzzles of this Gospel passage in which the unlikely pairing of Herodians and the Pharisees plot against Jesus. Both sides are threatened by Jesus’ presence in Jerusalem and so construct an ambush, asking Jesus, while he is teaching in the Temple, whether it is right to pay taxes to Rome. It is a good trap. If Jesus says ‘no’, he will be classed as a rebel, a dangerous move for a man who already has the eyes of the authorities on him. If Jesus says ‘yes’, he will lose his Jewish followers. The public nature of the conversation would mean that there were plenty of witnesses however he answered.

However, as always, Jesus sees past human guile to fundamental realities. He asks them to show him a Roman coin, and to tell him whose head, and whose title is on it. Roman coins were not permitted in the Temple setting as they bore both the image of a living person – the Emperor – and a claim to the Emperor’s divinity: ‘Tiberius Caesar, August Son of the Divine Augustus’. We are reminded that Jesus had already driven the money changers with their Roman coins out of the Temple that week. Nevertheless, a denarius is handed to him, and those looking to entrap him fall into their own trap: Jesus says, ‘So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.’ Not able to parse Jesus’ meaning (surely all things belong to God/Caesar?) the Pharisees and Herodians go away ‘amazed’.

ALLEGIANCE TO THE LIKENESS OF JESUS

This enigmatic Gospel passage has been read in many different ways, from the necessity to keep religion and politics separate, to an injunction for Christians to support civic authorities, no matter what. Exploring the wider historical and Scriptural context helps navigate some of the strangeness. Jesus is sharing with us a new vision of the kingdom of Heaven, where power is vulnerability and authority is service, a revelation made complete in his death and resurrection. We are called to walk that path too, recognising worldly authority as a necessity, but at all times knowing that everything belongs to God, as the first reading today tells us: ‘from the rising of the sun and from the west, there is none besides me; I am the LORD, and there is no other.’

How should we respond? While we live in the world, our true allegiance lies elsewhere. The second reading gives us all we need to make this choice: ‘For we know, brothers and sisters loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction.’ We are not stamped with the image of a Roman emperor, but, as Genesis tells us, with the image of God, and anointed priest, prophet and king at our baptism. Our power has nothing to do with what faction we follow but comes from the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. Our choice, then, is how we live this out, in a world no less contested and dangerous than the one Jesus dwelt in. May we all be stamped with Jesus’ likeness in our living today.