Readings: Is 45: 1,4-6;
Ps 96; 1 Thes 1:1-5; Mt 22:15-21
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I have a coin at home, a Roman denarius. An archaeologist friend gave it to me years ago as a gift. He found it in Israel, and on it you can still make out
the faint image of Tiberius Caesar, and an inscription declaring him the “son
of the divine Augustus,” the son of God.
I can’t help but wonder if perhaps it’s the very
coin the Pharisees showed Jesus as He confronted them in today’s Gospel passage.
I expect that there were probably a few million of those coins floating around the
Holy Land in the 1st century, so it’s highly unlikely…but not
impossible.
Of course, the emperors weren’t fools...well,
most of them weren’t. Their images appeared on all Roman coins because it was
good advertising, the emperor keeping his image in front of his subjects. He projected
an image of power, stability, peace, and prosperity. For Emperors, image was important.
In our first reading the prophet Isaiah seemed to agree as he reminded
Cyrus, the great Persian Emperor, that God had called him by name, given him a
title, and empowered him in 539 BC to free God’s people from their captivity.
God calls us by name, too, because we’re
created in the image of the One who anoints us, gives us a title, and calls us
“beloved”. We’re created in the image of One who is always with us, and if we
look in a mirror, and see only our own face staring back, then we’re blind to
the truth, as were so many of the Pharisees. God stood in their midst, and they
failed to recognize Him; they didn’t see themselves in Him.
So intent on projecting an image of obedience
to the Law, they never considered why God gave them the Law in the first place.
So caught up with being seen as
religious, they forgot the importance of actually being holy.
Weighed down by externals they never
internalized the command to love God and neighbor.
So pleased with themselves, they
ignored God’s call to bring His Presence and love to others, especially the poor.
And so, they do the unthinkable: they scheme
and plot to entrap the eternal Word of God. To do so, the Pharisees join forces
with a group they despise, the Herodians, because the enemy of my enemy is my
friend.
Oh, they conjure up this clever question with
only a lose-lose answer. They turn to Jesus, flattering Him with words they
don’t believe, then ask: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”
If Jesus says, “Yes, it’s lawful,” the
Pharisees can condemn Him to the people as a friend of the despised Romans.
If He says, “No,” the Herodians, who happily served
the Romans, can bring charges against Him for telling the people not to pay
their taxes.
But once again, Jesus ruins their schemes by
turning the tables on them: When a Pharisee holds up that Roman denarius, Jesus
asks, "Whose image is this and whose inscription…" And then he tells them, "Render to Caesar what
belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God."
Now a lot of folks focus on the first part of
that command – the rendering to Caesar part – but how many of us few consider
the second part?
Yes, we pay our taxes and today’s Caesars, use
them for all kinds of wondrous things. And their images hang on the walls of
our public buildings, in the post office, right beside those other pictures in
the post office.
But what should we render to God? Can we render
anything to God?
You see, like Tiberius and like Isaiah, in
effect Jesus tells the Pharisees that image is truly important. Since we’re
created in God’s image, we can render to Him all that we are: we can give him
all of our being! For by giving ourselves to God, we render to Him His image.
For Jesus, the question isn’t “How much do you
owe me in taxes?” But rather, “Who do you look like, and who are you called to
be?” When we realize who we look like, that we are created in His image,
we can then begin to recognize Him in the faces of those around us.
For years, at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen, as I served
a plate of my wife, Diane’s, wonderful cooking and handed it to the woman
standing before me, I was amazed to realize I was staring into the face and image
of God. Even if she didn’t believe in God – and she did – I could still see in her
the image of God.
This is truly amazing! It’s an absolutely
marvelous thing! That God reveals Himself to us through us.
When the Samaritan found that wounded man on
the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, what did he see but the image of God
beaten, bloodied, disfigured. And what did he use to ensure the innkeeper would
care for the man while he was away? He used money, two denarii, the image of
Caesar. He didn’t misuse money as Judas did when he sold Jesus for 30 pieces of
silver, and thus betrayed the image of God made man.
For money is a means: we need to have some, but
when we have too much of it, we run the risk of using it for selfish ends,
believing that paradise, at least a little piece of it, can be found on earth. How
fitting that our currency in this country bears the words, “In God we trust” –
if only as a reminder that if we place our trust in money, we worship a false
god. Much better to use the wealth we have to help our neighbor, seeing in him
the image of God!
You see, sisters and brothers, at some point we
will be judged. We won’t be asked how many holy hours we’ve made, or how many
Rosaries we’ve said. Now, those are good things – because they keep our minds
and hearts tuned and turned to God.
But we all know what we’ll be asked. It’s one
of the clearest texts in the Gospels, Matthew 25. “I was hungry and thirsty. I
was sick and in pain. I was in prison,” Jesus will tell us, and then He’ll ask.
“But did you pay attention to me? “You should have known that I hide, not only
within the poor, but within sinners as well. You know, those people we avoid
like the plague.
“You missed me, day after day,
every day. “Oh, you handed me your spare change, or a few bucks, and once in a
while even wrote big check, but that just eased your conscience…Yes, I took
your money, but you never offered your time, your attention, your interest. I
never experienced your love.”
When God says all this to us, you and I will
stand there sputtering, “Lord, do you mean to say You were that scary-looking
guy, who asked me for a ride.”
“…or that irritating old woman, in front of Walmart,
always looking for a handout? She was You too?
“…or that neighbor who loves to talk, on and
on, about all his troubles? That’s you?”
Yes, you and I are here today at Mass, worshiping
the One who suffered and was abandoned and uncared for, whom no one thought of
comforting, and whose passion brings tears to our eyes.
Then, we will leave, through that door, and
later, when we meet Him, we don’t recognize Him. We used to call it a sin of
omission, but I prefer to call it a sin of indifference. Our indifference to
others offends God far more than the mistakes we make on this journey of ours.
St. Paul, in our 2nd reading, reminds
us that “the Gospel didn’t come to you in word alone, but also in power and
in the Holy Spirit.”
But how often do you and I call on the power of
the Holy Spirit? In the Creed, we call Him, “the Lord and Giver of life.” To
refuse God’s gift of the Holy Spirit is to refuse life. And the life God gives
us is His own, His Eucharistic life, a life of loving with an active love. For
us to reject God’s life is to reject the gift of eternal life.
As Mass ends today, Father will extend God’s
blessing to us all; then you’ll hear me say¸ “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord
by your life.” And with our lives filled with God’s life, the Eucharistic gift
of Jesus, we can carry the Gospel, carry His love, to all we encounter.
If we accept the challenge, if we carry God’s
love into the world, the Holy Spirit will come and teach us all things.
He’ll change us, if we want Him to, if we
welcome Him, if we stop resisting Him, and if we look to Him for everything.
If we render to him all
that is His…our very lives.