According to Matthew the last week of Jesus' life bristled with controversy. His outspoken criticisms had earned him many determined enemies, and now they were closing in on him. His destruction had created a common cause among the rival groups within the Judaism of his time, but they were all well aware that in order to finish him off they must get in him trouble with the Roman authorities, who alone had the power to inflict capital punishment. And what better way of doing that than to involve Jesus on the wrong side of dispute over paying the head tax demanded by the Roman emperor. The tax was not a crushing one—one denarius, or the usual day's pay of Palestinian laborer—but it was required by Rome from all subject peoples (see Luke 2:1), and it was much hated.
So the disciples of Pharisees—the patriotic, ultra-observant party, the usual bad guys in the gospel of Matthew—join with the Herodians— the supporters of the family of Herod the Great, the petty princelings who ruled as puppets of the Roman government, and they come to Jesus with a question—"Is it lawful [according to the Law of Moses] to pay taxes to the emperor or not?" (22:17) They first praise his honesty and integrity. Whether this is a cynical attempt at manipulation or not—the evangelist Matthew thinks it is—nevertheless the question is a dangerous one and puts Jesus between a rock and a hard place.
If he says "yes," that would put him the pocket of the hated Romans and alienate him from those who longed for Israel's independence. This would be the position of the Herodians in our reading; they "belonged" to the ruling authorities. But that Jesus would cast his lot with them seems hardly likely; he was no Quisling. Pagan oppression of God's chosen people would surely be an outrage to one who teaches "the way of God in accordance with truth," and shows "deference to no one." But if Jesus says "no," that would lay the grounds for a charge of insurrection and subversion.
Jesus, however, is not taken in by their stratagems; "aware of their malice," he replies—"Show me the money." And his opponents reach into their pockets and produce a denarius. Money —then as now-- "belonged" to the government; it was a crime to coin your own. "Whose head is this, and whose title?" Jesus asks. It is, of course, a purely rhetorical question. Everyone present recognizes the likeness of the divine emperor and his name--Tiberius. And everyone present also knows the first commandment of the God of Israel—"You shall not make for yourself an idol"—an image—"whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth" (20:4). So Jesus tricked the tricksters back. For any Jew to possess such an image and carry on his or her person is to break the Law of Moses. Jesus' questioners are themselves compromised by the money they carry.
The coin itself provides Jesus' answer to enemies' tricky question. If it bears Caesar's face and Caesar's name is on it, it must belong to Caesar. The money is his property, and he has a right to ask for it back. So the followers of Jesus in every time—and remember, Matthew is a handbook for discipleship—must not think of money as belonging to them. They may use it, but they may not possess it or let it take possession of them. Their ultimate allegiance belongs to God. They should be prepared to render obedience and taxes to the powers that be, even godless ones (Romans 13:6-7), but not buy into the structures they represent.
So what are the limits of Christian obedience to the state? Everyone is going to have a different answer because each of us feels a different level allegiance to the government under which we live. The state has authority over us—I doubt that anyone would seriously deny that—but authority means something different to each one of us. And political authority always wears a different human face. Christians are never going to agree on whether such and such a leader is a great statesman or a low-down skunk. Order to one is oppression to another. So the claims of a particular Caesar to our loyalty and love must be determined by each man or woman on the basis of his or her conscience and common sense. But this much is beyond dispute—as long as we live, we live under someone's authority. We can't live without Caesar's money, so we are all compromised by it. But compromise is not surrender. Caesar is not God, even though he always has ambitions in that direction. As Jesus elsewhere remarks, no one can serve two masters (Matthew 6:24). In the end a choice is demanded—God or Caesar. The problem is that many contemporary American Christians do not think that that choice is necessary.
No comments:
Post a Comment