Render unto Caesar.. what do we owe our president?

“Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,

And to God what belongs to God…”
--Matthew 22:15-21

 What does Jesus really mean by this?  What belongs to Caesar?

In the story from Matthew’s gospel there is a coin.  And Jesus asks someone to tell Him whose image is on the coin.  And in the gospel, there is this coin because someone has asked Jesus for tax advice. (Like He was some kind of early H&R Block.) But, the exemption they are looking for is whether it is right to pay any taxes to Caesar.  Caesar, the oppressive Roman ruler who has conquered the Jews and makes them pay tribute and taxes to support his kingdom. Caesar who has become a kind of new Pharaoh for the Jews.  Should they pay the census tax to Caesar? But the question isn’t really being asked because the Herodians and the Pharisees are looking for free fiscal advice. No, it is being asked because they are hoping to trick Jesus into saying something that might get Him in trouble. Because He is troubling them!

Whose image is on the coin? Whose inscription? Jesus asks. And these would-be tricksters reply: Caesar’s. And Jesus says, Then, give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and give to God what belongs to God.  And when they heard this they went away, amazed (cf. 22:22). 

 What belongs to Caesar? What belongs to God? 

Side note: This is an amazing little story. I read it to my Creative Writing class today as part of our prayer and then talked a moment about how beautifully and concisely it depicts the two characters solely through their dialog (cf. 22:15-20).  One character is the trickster (Herodians/Pharisees) who employs complex and very solicitous language, and the other (Jesus) uses simple and straightforward language in response to their questions.  Very nice example of show-don’t-tell. 

Back to the main question at hand: What belongs to Caesar?  Pope Francis (in a recent Angelus talk) addressed this reading and focused on the question implicitly raised by Jesus’s answer, and that is: who do we belong to?   And I think that is part of what I hear in this reading. But even more I keep hearing the question: what belongs to Caesar?  What do I owe to Caesar?  Or, for instance, what do I owe my government? What do I owe the president of the United States? Which, logically speaking means: what do I owe Donald Trump?  In Paul’s letter to the Romans (13:1) we read:

Every person is to be in subjection to the governing authorities.

For there is no authority except from God, and those

which exist are established by God.

(And there are several other places in the New Testament where we read that the early Christians were told to subject themselves or submit to the authorities of the places where they lived (cf. Titus 3:1, 1 Peter 2:13, also John 19:11, and in the OT: Proverbs 8:15, Daniel 2:21).)  All of this scripture diving and divining supports the idea that we have the president God wills for us, but of course that doesn’t mean we have to like it (consider the story of Saul and the warning given in 1 Samuel 8:10-18).  

But, even if we don’t like the new king (or new president) –even if he seems another Pharaoh, what do we owe him? What belongs to Caesar?

We owe him the gift of being an icon of God, of reflecting God’s love to him. Sure, we pay our taxes, and we follow the laws, but what we really owe Caesar is seen in the example of Jesus who spoke the truth and revealed the love of God even when it meant calling someone a white-washed tomb or a viper, and even when it meant accepting the consequences... What belongs to Caesar? As someone made in the image of God – our love, our prayers, our personal witness to the Love of God, and once a year –even our taxes. Why? Because even Caesar belongs to God.

Keep praying

“Be joyful in hope, persevere in hardships; keep praying…”   

--Romans 12:12

Friends, how hard is it to be joyful in hope and to persevere when you are afflicted and experiencing hardships?  When everything seems to be going against you? When your friends have abandoned you? When it feels like even God has abandoned you?

We all experience moments like this, perhaps more than moments –weeks, months, even years some might say.  Where do you turn for hope when your world is falling apart?  When your boss tells you she isn’t happy with your work, or your doctor tells you that chronic pain isn’t just a simple ache? When none of the goals you’ve set seem to ever come true? And the defeats just keep piling up until it all seems hopeless. What’s the point? Who cares? It feels like life is cycling out of control. A downward spiral. Perhaps we feel like we are trapped in our own private Gethsemane. Abandoned by friend and God and the cross looming always over us.

First, we need to find a way to break the cycle of disappointment and hardship.  How do we do that?  The words are right there.  We need to be joyful and recover our hope.  How?  One of the best ways is through prayer.  This isn’t pie in the sky. And it isn’t an overnight solution. Prayer takes resolve and commitment and effort.  We feel broken and abandoned, like Jesus in the Garden.  What does He do? He prays.  And then He prays again.  And in Matthew’s Gospel, He even withdraws and prays a third time.  Keep praying.

Second, we need to find a way to get out of ourselves.  I have been wondering if Sartre didn’t get it all wrong when he said, Hell is other people.  I wonder if the truth isn’t the very opposite for many of us… Hell is being alone with no one else to think about but ourself.  Get outside yourself.  Pray that God will show you someone who needs your help. Maybe all they need is a kind word, a gentle touch, or just a smile. Maybe they need you to bring them a cup of coffee and a doughnut. Maybe they need someone to sit down with them and listen as they open their hearts and unpack their burdens –someone who will help them carry their cross. Be that person. Discover the truth behind Matthew 25:36-40… serve the hungry, the naked, the lonely, the sick… and discover that you truly are serving Christ.

One of the best ways I have found to rediscover joy is visiting the sick in the hospital or bringing food to a homeless man on Gessner.  I sit and talk with Michael and listen to his troubles, listen to his dreams, listen to his reminiscences of life in Pennsylvania when he was a boy.  Sometimes we talk sports. Sometimes he sings to me.  Sometimes we just sit in silence and share a meal.  It always renews me.

Think about this: what is prayer but coming before Christ with our entire being and offering it to Him?  And, according to Matthew’s Gospel, who do we serve when we serve the poor, feed the hungry, care for the sick? Jesus, Himself.  It seems to me that either way we are going to meet the Lord.  And that is probably the best way to renew our hope. And to regain a joyful spirit.  So, dear friends, keep praying! With your entire being, keep praying –body and soul! Keep praying.  With these simple words, Paul is giving us some pretty darned good advice. Keep praying.

Happy Easter! He has risen. He has risen, indeed.

Exulting in hardship Pt. II

  

   Why on earth should we exult in our hardships? What is the real life applicable human truth that God is revealing through Paul’s words? It sounds so weird to our human ear: “exult in our hardships,” “rejoice in our afflictions” “boast in our sufferings,” “glory in our tribulations.” How alien that idea is to our modern consciousness; and yet if the Bible is the word of God then should we not seek for God’s truth in it? And should we not be considering how to apply that truth to our daily lives?

   For me, this all ties into a year that began with me being kicked out of the diaconate program –after three years of training and many more of discernment and prayer and hope—and ended with my brother’s sudden death by cancer (almost exactly a year later).  In between there were many personal and professional setbacks and disappointments but all them were marked by the feeling that I had been rejected. I had been found lacking.  I was not the person I was certain God had made me to be. 

   Standing in the middle of all that, I felt no desire to rejoice. And I saw nothing to boast about. Why on earth would anyone exult in it? I only wanted to escape or hide—to protect myself and my family from further hardships, or tribulations, further reasons to rejoice. Physically, I was tense and anxious and emotionally I was often fearful. My back ached and my shoulders tightened as I waited –constantly—for the next blow.  I began to avoid eye contact, avoid friends, avoid even the hands that reached out to help me.

   And, I think that position I found myself in may be key to what Paul is telling us –or telling me:

Paul isn’t recommending that we should eagerly seek out afflictions as opportunities for boasting and rejoicing, --as if we might go out for a letter jacket in suffering. And he isn’t claiming that positive thinking will make afflictions go away. This isn’t pop psychology 101.  I think there are two things going on here. First, out of a natural desire to avoid pain or discomfort, I was becoming tense, isolated, defensive –my heart was hardening.  And Paul’s words certainly are addressed to that attitude. Becoming hard and isolated is self-destructive. Perhaps the spiritual practice of exulting in our hardships, is a way of learning to receive both good and bad, not as curse or blessing, but as invitation (so to speak) –as a way for God to reveal Himself in and through our life. 

Second, it occurred to me that one of Paul’s themes in this letter is the question of whose slave we are?  Do we belong to sin or God? (cf. 6:16-19) If we belong to God, then we need to live that way. Like a good slave, we need to receive whatever we are given not with whining and moaning, but with rejoicing and exulting. Not because it feels good or feels bad, but because we are God’s, and every moment of our life, every success and every failure, every joy and every hardship we give back to Him. We offer it to God as a chance for His glory to shine. 

   This doesn’t mean we don’t stand up for ourselves, or for others.  It doesn’t mean that we pull out that old trump card: It must have been God’s will.  We don’t know why you lost your job, but it must have been God’s will. We don’t know why your house burned down, but it must have been God’s will.  Exulting in our hardships doesn’t mean we hide behind “God’s will.” It also doesn’t mean we just sit back and take it.  We can praise God and exult in our hardships even as we work to help immigrants or homeless people or prisoners or even as we stand up for someone being mistreated at work. We can exult in our hardships even as we stand up for the underdog. The world may call us hypocrites and fools and all kinds of names, but the world isn’t who we are called to serve. We are slaves of the one we obey. The world abhors hardships. The world is afraid of affliction.

We are slaves of God.  And God calls us to exult even in our hardships, to rejoice even in our afflictions. Not because hardships are really blessings, but because even in those moments –God is with us. Even when we feel crushed, it is the Lord who holds us up and it is the Lord who stretches out His hand to help us bear the load. And, like Paul, perhaps we are making up in our flesh something that is lacking in the afflictions of Christ (cf. Col 1:24).  And again, what if God is using your hardship as a way to call someone else, family, friend or coworker, even a stranger, to an act of charity –calling them to respond to His presence in your pain? Asking them, through your affliction, to come closer to Him by reaching out to you.  Not everyone will respond. Sometimes no one will. That, again, is not our business. God may be using us to plant seeds to grow His holiness in someone we will never know.  Our affliction, our hardship, our disappointment, our sorrow may be an opportunity for someone else to become a saint.

    Come to think of it, that sounds like a good reason to exult.

Though the fig tree does not bud
    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls, 

 yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior.

--Habbakuk 3:17-18 

Some thoughts on Romans 1-2

“It is yourself you condemn when you judge others…” –Romans 2:1b

“…persevering in doing good…” –Romans 2:7b

During his March 5 Angelus address, Pope Francis recommended that Christians turn to the Bible when we are engaged in spiritual battle.  Even asking what if we turned to a little pocket Bible as often as we turned to our mobile phones.

Okay! I take the bait.  I’ve begun reading Paul’s letter to the Romans for my Lenten reading. The choice was very happenstance, as far as that goes. I had begun to read Jeremiah on my own, but the Bible group I study with voted to read Romans, therefore that is what I will read –partly in preparation for the study group, but most definitely for my own contemplation and spiritual growth.

And so, here is my first meditation on Paul’s longest letter.

In the opening chapters there is a striking element. Paul develops an image in chapter one of God’s wrath not as a judgment imposed upon sinners, but as a natural consequence of their rejection of God.  Because they reject Him, God abandons them “to degrading passions” and “unacceptable thoughts and indecent behavior” (cf. 1: 26-32). Chapter 1 builds to a crescendo in intensity as Paul proclaims that though these sinners are “well aware of God’s ordinance[s]” they not only choose to behave in degrading ways, but “applaud others who do the same” (1:32).   So, on some level we are being primed to anticipate a statement of how these figures should be treated by the Christian community.  And perhaps that is exactly what we get at the beginning of chapter 2, when Paul warns us: “It is yourself you condemn when you judge others…”

It fascinates me that a somewhat detailed description of sin and depravity is followed by a warning against judging. It fascinates me because it seems to me Paul is making a powerful statement not about sin and judgment, but about God’s generosity and mercy.  Where we might expect Paul to recommend casting out the sinner, or avoiding the sin, etc, he instead admonishes us to avoid judging others, lest we condemn ourselves.  And he reminds us that God’s generosity is “meant to bring you to repentance” (cf.2:4b).  This reminder and admonition, call us to humble ourselves not just before the saints, but also before the sinners. Perhaps, especially before the sinners. We must treat them generously and with compassion –if we would be children of the generous and merciful God.  If we would be the body of Christ.  Because by our compassion and generosity perhaps we will become –even for a moment-- a sign –an icon-- for someone, of God’s great love.

The last thing that struck me in this beautifully rich very early passage from Paul’s letter is his note about those who aim for “glory and honor and immortality by persevering in doing good…” in verse 7.  Coming right after his admonition about judging and his comment about God’s generosity, I was struck by the thought: How do I know who is “persevering in doing good?”  I may have no idea what the good is that you are doing? And I certainly can’t know how much it costs you to persevere in that effort.  Perhaps the good you are doing is to be gentle with a difficult boss, perhaps it is to walk away when others begin to gossip, or to quiet yourself at the end of the day and bow down on your knees before God and simply put your trust in His generous love and mercy. I do not know. I cannot know your heart. And perhaps the good you persevere in will look to the world like nothing but wasted effort and failure. But, again –who am I to judge? I’m sure that a death on the cross looked like failure to a lot of 1^st century Romans and Jews.