Sermon for Sunday, October 19, 2008 (Proper 24)
But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?” (Matt. 22:18)
Today’s gospel continues Matthew’s account of Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem and his heated encounters with the religious authorities. Jesus has castigated the priests and Pharisees by telling against them the parables of the Two Sons, the Wicked Tenants, and the Wedding Feast. Our Lord’s opponents withdraw briefly, regroup, and then try again to entrap this maddeningly inconvenient rabbi from Galilee. This time some Pharisees and their associates approach Jesus as he teaches in the temple, where as always he is surrounded by a crowd. They plan to ask him a question the answer to which will discredit him publicly. They think will make it easier to have him arrested and punished.
Jesus’ opponents begin by casting a line of oily flattery: “Teacher, we know that you are sincere… teach the way of God… [and] do not regard people with partiality.” (Matt. 22:16) But the worm at the end of the line conceals a hook. “Is it lawful,” they ask, “to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” (Matt. 22:17)
This is a trick question. To understand its subtlety we must recognize that taxation was as hot a topic in the 1st century as it is in our day. The Jews labored under a triple burden of taxation — by Rome, by Herod, and by the temple priesthood. The procurators (or Roman governors) taxed land and personal property, levied import-export duties at seaports and city gates, and imposed a special house tax in Jerusalem. Herod levied taxes on the produce of the field, as well as a sales tax on items bought and sold. The right to collect these taxes was auctioned off to the highest bidder — the notorious publican, or tax collector — who had the help of the army in doing his work. Although tax collectors (like Matthew himself) were paid for their services, they often extorted an additional percentage which they pocketed, becoming quite rich in the process and earning the taxpayers’ hatred.
On top of all this, the temple authorities collected a half-shekel tax on all Jewish males 20 years of age or older. Each year tax collectors went from town to town collecting this “head tax,” both in Palestine and in the diaspora. Thus for the Jews — most of whom constituted what scripture calls “the people of the land,” those who lived by subsistence farming — this tax burden was crushing and threatened their very existence.
Jesus’ opponents, then, pose a subtle question. If our Lord says one should pay taxes to Caesar, then the people might see him as siding with Rome against his own community. On the other hand, if he says that one should not pay the Empire’s taxes, then the authorities could accuse him of fomenting sedition and have the Romans arrest him.
In the end, Jesus avoids the trap by pointing out that Roman coins carry the image of the Emperor. He says, “Give… to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Matt. 22:21) In other words, Roman coins are the property of the emperor; therefore, Jesus says, return that property to its owner. At the same time, God makes demands of his people. In Jesus’ eyes that includes faithfulness, obedience, and compassion for the vulnerable and marginalized. Therefore, people should give to God what belongs to God. It’s a subtle answer to a subtle question. Once again our Lord’s opponents withdraw, but they continue to plot against him.
Let me pause here to note that if you doubt that theologians have a sense of humor, today’s gospel proves otherwise. Those scholars who put together our lectionary — the lessons we read in church each week — undoubtedly knew that from time to time Jesus’ comment on paying taxes would fall just a few days before a national election. Since taxes are always a hot topic in election years, I’m sure these seminary professors decided (with a slight smirk) that Jesus’ teaching would add a little spice to the Sunday fare… and perhaps make the preacher tap dance a bit more vigorously.
By this time in the election cycle, we voters have been treated to a seemingly endless argument over which candidate will raise, lower, or leave unchanged the burden of taxes that you and I contend with. Each candidate says he has a better tax plan, and each candidate assures us that the other side’s nefarious schemes will surly oppress the long-suffering American taxpayer, cripple the economy (or this year, economic recovery), lay waste to democracy, and ensure the downfall of Western Civilization. Meanwhile, both sides speak in generalities about their tax plans, because giving details simply offers the other side more opportunity to criticize. Besides, if the truth be known, both candidates really don’t know what they will do, and won’t know until one of them gets elected, takes office, and has a chance to assess the situation as it then exists.
However, regardless of what the politicians or talking heads may say, you and I can be certain that the garbage has to be collected, and sooner or later, someone has to pay for it. The question, as always, is when and how.
Some of my ordained colleagues believe they know the answer to that question — indeed the answer to all significant political questions — and assert that the proper role of the Church is to instruct the faithful how they should vote. Last month the Alliance Defense Fund, a group based in Arizona, organized a “Pulpit Initiative” in which participating pastors would endorse a candidate from the pulpit. The ADF’s goal was to spark action against these churches by the Internal Revenue Service which, in turn, would give the churches standing to challenge the half-century-old ban on political endorsements by tax-exempt religious groups.
This is hardly a new argument. Some clergy and their parishioners have been grumbling about the ban since then-Senator Lyndon B. Johnson added it to a piece of Internal Revenue Service legislation in 1954. No one knows why Johnson did this. There is no legislative history indicating that this amendment was in response to a particular problem. But the amendment’s effect was to ban intervention in a political campaign by a congregation which is exempt from payment of income taxes under section 501(c)(3) of the IRS Code.
Since 1954 various groups have challenged the intervention ban, arguing that it interferes with the free exercise of religion guaranteed in the First Amendment to the Constitution. Last month Erik Stanley, an attorney for the Alliance Defense Fund, was quoted in the Washington Post as saying, “For so long there has been this cloud of intimidation over the church. It is the job of the pastors of America to debate the proper role of the church in society. It is not for the government to mandate the role of church in society.” (Quoted in the Washington Post, Sept. 8, 2008, page A03)
The courts have not found such arguments persuasive. Nor do I. The 501(c)(3) exemption has clear advantages for St. John’s Episcopal Church, as it does for many other religious, charitable, educational, and scientific organizations. Specifically, it encourages financial support by allowing contributors who itemize to deduct their gifts against taxable income, so long as they receive no goods or services in exchange for that gift. Most lay leaders and clergy recognize that without this exemption, financial support would be significantly diminished and the task of raising money to run this and most other churches would become considerably more difficult. The “price tag” for this bit of government assistance — refraining from telling my parishioners how to vote — strikes me as quite modest.
Moreover, as a priest, I feel that it is manifestly not my place to tell you — from the pulpit, or in my professional capacity — which candidate you should vote for, or whether you should support or oppose some ballot initiative. (I can do so privately, of course — just not when I am performing my official duties.) I happily accept that limitation because, over the years of my ministry, I’ve come to see my role as that of what the French call an agent provocateur, one who incites or entices another person to do something. What I seek to incite or entice you to do is not to commit an illegal act, but rather to actively engage Holy Scripture and your relationship with Jesus Christ with the task of living your life as a child of God and a disciple of our Lord.
You would be amazed how many people find this juxtaposition of faith and daily living unacceptable. Years ago I ran across a quotation (the source now long forgotten) which declared, “Nothing is so offensive as encountering in the marketplace an idea which properly belongs in the pulpit.” Alas, some Episcopal congregations enshrine this attitude in their common life by prohibiting any discussion, especially from the pulpit, of any subject that any person might deem even vaguely political. The rationale usually given for this is that Mr. Jones or Ms. Smith might hear a disagreeable opinion and flee, pledge in hand, to some other church. In my experience, the problem usually isn’t Mr. Jones or Ms. Smith, but the person who presumes to speak for them. But that’s another sermon.
My point is that the congregation which keeps every concern of modern society at arm’s length makes itself irrelevant to the lives of most people. How are we to live in this complicated world? The competing demands of God and Caesar are not easily reconciled, and sometimes simply can’t be reconciled. What do we do then? These are the issues Jesus addressed in his day. If you and I can’t talk about such issues in our day — bringing to bear Jesus’ teachings, the collective experience of Christians across the ages, and our own intelligence and good sense — then our faith will be just an empty shell.
Therefore, if I do my job as an agent provocateur — in my preaching, teaching, and pastoring — then it’s very likely that you, my parishioners, will be encouraged to spend a fair amount of time dealing with things political. That’s because all significant moral issues that you and I face have, at some level, their political dimension. War and peace… freedom and tyranny… capitalism and justice in the marketplace… racism… gender and age bias… marriage and family concerns… the rights of gay people… abortion and family planning… health care and the lack thereof… education… immigration… capital punishment… energy policy and environmental responsibility… taxes, taxes, taxes… even the role of the Church in contemporary society — all of these are points at which faith, daily life, and politics intersect. And Jesus himself stands in the intersection.
I submit, then, that the proper task of the Church is to encourage a robust engagement of religion and life. In an election year like this, the Church can and should provide useful information (as we have tried to do on the St. John’s Blog), stimulate conversation about candidates and issues, and always honor opposing viewpoints. I believe it was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian and heroic opponent of Naziism, who said that the first duty one Christian owes another is to listen — just to listen. Above all, the Church can and should insist that casting your vote on Tuesday, November 4th, is both a legal right and a moral duty.
However, it is neither the Church’s job nor mine to tell you to approve the library millage or to vote for Millard Fillmore for President. Deciding who and what you will vote for is your responsibility.
May God, our Governor and the fountain of all wisdom, guide us in this important work of citizenship, that we may be at peace among ourselves, and a blessing to the peoples of the earth. Amen.
Readings for Year A, Proper 24: Old Testament — Exodus 33:12-23 | Gradual — Psalm 99 | Epistle — 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10 | Gsopel — Matthew 22:15-22
Collect for Proper 24:
Almighty and everlasting God, in Christ you have revealed your glory among the nations: Preserve the works of your mercy, that your Church throughout the world may persevere with steadfast faith in the confession of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.