The Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost

We just heard it. Jesus is confronted with the politically charged question: "Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?" It is a text that speaks powerfully into polarized times because Jesus refuses to be trapped by the partisan categories of his day and calls his followers to a deeper allegiance.

Every election season seems to bring the same anxious question: "Whose side are you on?" The pressure comes from television screens, campaign ads, social media feeds, never-ending texts and even conversations around dinner tables.

In today's Gospel, Jesus faces a similar moment. His opponents are not seeking wisdom; they are setting a trap. "Tell us," they ask, "is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?" If he says yes, some will reject him. If he says no, others will denounce him.

But Jesus refuses the trap. Instead, he asks for a coin and poses a deeper question: Whose image is on it?  The coin in question bore the image of the emperor Tiberius. One side of the coin would have deified Tiberius as a "son of the divine August," while the other side would have honored him as the "Pontifex Maximus" or "chief priest" of Roman polytheism—which is to say that the two sides of the coin celebrated absolute religious and civil authority for Tiberius. To a Jew who confessed belief in only one God such a graven image was religiously offensive and politically humiliating.

The crowd would have been aghast at the political, religious, and economic implications of honoring a pagan "god" by paying a tax to him. When his interrogators responded that the coin bore the image of Caesar, Jesus replied with a mysterious and cryptic answer: "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's."  

The brilliance of Jesus' answer is that he shifts the conversation from taxes to identity. The coin bears Caesar's image because Caesar claims ownership of it. Jesus refused to take their bait. We might even imagine Jesus sticking it to his questioners by pocketing the coin afterwards. But there is another question hanging in the air, one Jesus never explicitly asks because every faithful Jew already knew the answer: Whose image is on you?

The Book of Genesis tells us that every human being is created in the image and likeness of God. Long before we belong to a nation, a party, an ideology, or a movement, we belong to God. God's image is stamped not on metal but on human hearts.

Coincidentally, this Gospel comes to us as we celebrate St. Luke the Physician and healer. He knew how to diagnose illness and tend wounds. But when he wrote his Gospel, he showed us that some of the deepest wounds are not physical. They are the wounds of division, suspicion, fear, and estrangement.

Our own time knows something about those wounds.  We see them in communities fractured by distrust. We see them in a public life where outrage often seems easier than understanding.

We see them in our own communities, in the horrible, unconscionable shooting of children and teachers in a special ed class in Oregon. Locally, the deeply disturbing acts of violence, harassment, and hate directed toward people experiencing homelessness who are living in an encampment community in Milford.

In her email this week, Jennifer Paradis of Beth-El writes: “Residents have experienced physical harm, fear, and significant disruptions to their ability to sleep, work, and live safely. No person, regardless of their housing status, should have to live in fear of violence or intimidation.”

“Equally important is our responsibility to ensure that the broader community understands the seriousness of these reported acts of violence and hate. At a time when divisiveness and dehumanizing rhetoric increasingly threaten our sense of shared humanity, we must be clear - violence, intimidation, and hatred directed toward any member of our community are threats to the safety and well-being of us all.” Bravo, Jennifer!

Perhaps one of the Church's most urgent ministries today is the ministry of healing. There is such a deep, pervasive need for healing in this nation and particularly in this election season. For the physician Luke would remind us that healing begins when we learn to see one another not as opponents to be defeated but as people made in the image of God.

Politics constantly tempts us to forget who bears God's image. We are Christians before we are conservatives. Christians before we are liberals. Christians before we are independents. Christians before we are anything else. When people encounter us, they should see more than our political preferences. They should see something of Christ: his mercy, his truth, his humility, and his love.

As we leave today, we will return to a world filled with arguments, headlines, polls, and predictions. We will continue to hear voices demanding our loyalty and our attention. Some will tell us that our hope lies in this candidate or that movement.

But the coin belonged to Caesar because it bore Caesar's image. We belong to God because we bear God's image. So, fulfill your civic responsibilities. Vote your conscience. Work for justice. Pray for your country. But render to God what belongs to God: your heart, your soul, your compassion, your faith, your hope, and your love.

And when the noise of politics grows loud, remember this: before we are a voter, before we are a citizen, before we are anything else, we are a daughter or son of God. That identity is the one no election can give and no election can take away.