On this twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time of Year A, the Church sets before us a king who did not know God, a young church faithful in hardship and a question laid as a trap. Our difficulty is the distance between what we profess and what we carry in our hands, between the God we confess and the coins we hold. The readings lead us from Cyrus to Thessalonica and then to a denarius.
Then the Pharisees, going out, took counsel as to how they might entrap him in speech. And they sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying: "Teacher, we know that you are truthful, and that you teach the way of God in truth, and that the influence of others is nothing to you. For you do not consider the reputation of men. Therefore, tell us, how does it seem to you? Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar, or not?" But Jesus, knowing their wickedness, said: "Why do you test me, you hypocrites? Show me the coin of the census tax." And they offered him a denarius. And Jesus said to them, "Whose image is this, and whose inscription?" They said to him, "Caesar's." Then he said to them, "Then render to Caesar what is of Caesar; and to God what is of God." (Mt 22:15-21)
The first reading begins with an astonishing address, in which the Lord speaks through Isaiah, the prophet of Israel, to Cyrus, a king who did not know him. The Lord takes Cyrus by the right hand and opens the gates before him. But he makes a plain whose hand holds the other: "I am the Lord, and there is no one else" (Is 45:5). That is why no throne can be the final owner of anything: the Lord alone holds all. Even a ruler who does not know God carries a name that God knows.
What the prophet announces, the psalm turns into a gesture. David, the king of Israel, bids the natives of the nations to "bring to the Lord glory and honor" (Ps 95:7). Glory is thus not taken from God, but returned to him who alone is Lord.
What does such a return look like in a living community? Paul, the apostle of the nations, answers before the Gospel has even asked, as he gives thanks for the church of Thessalonica and remembers "your work of faith, and hardship, and charity, and enduring hope" (1 Th 1:3). Their faith works, their love wears itself out and their hope endures the trial. So a small church, set in a pagan world, gives back to God what is his.
In the Gospel the conflict has grown bitter, and Matthew, the evangelist, shows the Pharisees taking counsel to catch Jesus in his own words, and they send their disciples with the Herodians. To grasp the question, we must know where each party stood on the tax. The Herodians, who had risen under Rome's protection, found it lawful; the Pharisees paid because they had no choice and denied its legitimacy; the zealots would not pay at all. Each measured the coin by what it cost him.
But the question hides a snare with two edges: if Jesus tells the people to refuse the tax, he will pass for a zealot, and the Herodians will denounce him to the Romans; if he tells them to pay it, the Pharisees will accuse him of backing the occupier. And yet it is the Pharisees who are caught. Jesus asks, "Why do you test me, you hypocrites?" and a denarius appears in their hands. This coin bears the emperor's likeness and, by their own account, offends the Law of Moses. The snare closes on those who set it.
Jesus lifts the matter above the marketplace with a second question, "Whose image is this, and whose inscription?" The coin answers for itself, since it carries Caesar's face and goes back to Caesar. But the second half of the reply carries far more weight: "Then render to Caesar what is of Caesar; and to God what is of God." Those who give Caesar so readily what he claims should give God what is his. Everything belongs to God, and every creature carries his seal, the human person above all, since we are made in his image.
In the spirituality of Bethlehem, a child is the one who keeps nothing back, because he trusts the Father with all that he is. The Child of the manger held nothing in reserve, and that is why his whole life could be given. Baptism makes us sons and daughters in the Son, so that the seal we bear is not a claim of ownership, but a family likeness. We render to God what is his as a child returns to a father, with trust and with joy.
Today the Word of God invites us to ask whose seal we carry. The distance between what we profess and what we hold in our hands closes only with the gift of ourselves, in our homes, our work and our prayer. God does not ask for a share of our time, but for the one who bears his seal. That is why Thessalonica matters to us: its small church shows that whatever is given to God comes back to the world as faith, charity and hope.
So the one who renders everything to God will be a good citizen of the earthly homeland as well, giving Caesar what belongs to him without anxiety. Let this Sunday be a day of thanks for all that the Father has given us. Let us ask for the grace to live in this world as his worthy children. The coin goes back to Caesar, and we go back to God, who called each of us by name.
Scripture text: Catholic Public Domain Version (CPDV), public domain.
Prayer of the Day
Lord Jesus, Child of Bethlehem, you trusted the Father with all that you are. Show us whose image we bear, and teach us to render to Caesar what is his and to God what is his, beginning with ourselves. Make us a people of working faith, of tireless charity and of steady hope, and let us bring to your Father glory and honor in the midst of this world. Amen.
For Meditation
- What do we carry in our hands that contradicts what we profess, and when did we last notice it?
- Whose likeness do we see when we look at ourselves, and what would it mean to bring the whole person to the Father?
- Where do our faith, our charity and our hope become visible in a world that has not yet heard the name of God?
