This morning I will preach about our Gospel, Matthew 22:15-22. But before that, I would like to talk a little about one aspect of being a priest – presiding at the Eucharist.
Since my ordination to the priesthood now 3 years ago, the Eucharistic prayer has become more than just more familiar. It’s hard to put into words how it feels; there is something about the words and gestures having entered into me; they now resonate deeply within me. They are embodied, have become much more than words, or gestures. And as the Eucharistic prayer begins and moves through its different parts, I am aware of a deep comfort, something akin to the sense of safety and comfort experienced when we are in our safest, most familiar place. Standing at the altar, preparing to celebrate with all of you, I sense, very powerfully, that I am fully known and fully loved by God.
This enables me, through grace, to step forward to preside with confidence, with love, and with care. And whilst it may not be clear why I am saying this in relation to today’s Gospel, I hope that in the next few minutes the link with the Eucharist will become clear.
Today’s Gospel, hot on the heels of the parable of the Wedding Feast, tells us of the Pharisees. The Wedding Feast parable was challenging to the Pharisees; it threatened them, and here they react as those who are threatened so often do. They turn against their accuser seeking allies wherever they can find them. And so we have the unlikely alliance of the Pharisees (scrupulous observers of Mosaic Law) and the Herodians (collaborators with the Roman occupiers, which necessarily compromised this same Mosaic Law). These two groups who would otherwise be bitter rivals agree on one thing – they hate Jesus.
Together they approach him and open their discourse with flattery – ‘we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with the truth, and show deference to no-one, for you do not regard people with partiality’. Then, in the wake of the flattery comes their plotted trap; ‘Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?’
Jesus is under attack. How does he react? I imagine him pausing, taking time, creating some breathing space in order to consider how to respond. I imagine him silently praying, ‘Oh God, help me.’ And then, he asks for a coin. Now the Pharisees were strictly forbidden from using any coin bearing a blasphemous human image, especially within the Holy Temple which is where this incident took place. Nevertheless, without hesitation, they quickly provide Jesus with a denarius, the required payment for the tax demanded by Caesar, and about which they are seeking to trap Jesus. This coin would have borne the image of, most probably, Caesar Augustus, with an inscription round its edge proclaiming Caesar Augustus divine.
At this point I again imagine Jesus taking time, looking at this coin. Looking at the image of Caesar, and reading the inscription with the Pharisees and Herodians standing around, thinking they’ve got him, impatient to act on their victory over this troublemaker. What might Jesus have been thinking? Here he was, in the Holy Temple, looking at the image of a tyrannical Roman leader who declared himself divine.
Looking at this coin, was he thinking about the demand of the census tax referred to, which had already led to revolt and the crucifixions of Jewish people who refused, or were unable to pay; looking at the image of this man was he anticipating the accusations to be made against him at his trial? Accusations of leading a rebellion against the Roman Empire. What might he be feeling as he looks, and reads this coin? Fear? Distress? Anger?
‘Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s’ he says as he lays that coin and that issue aside. And instead, Jesus places God at the centre. He does not become embroiled in an argument about the brutality and compromises of living under Roman rule. He turns the focus to the source of all life … He turns the focus to God and says ‘give to God the things that are God’s’. In this response we see where Jesus’ thoughts, when assailed by a threat or disturbance, turn. His thoughts turn to God.
I don’t think this passage is about taxes, or how we should or shouldn’t separate politics and faith. I think this teaching speaks to the Pharisees, and to us, about our relationship with God.
I can imagine Jesus saying ‘Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and give to God the things that are God’s’ And then, looking at those who stand around him, the Pharisees, the Herodians, the onlookers, and saying … ‘That coin, it bears the image of Caesar. But you … who do you belong to? Whose image do you bear?’ And almost certainly the thoughts of all those people would immediately turn to the opening of Genesis, and God’s words, ‘Let us make humans in our image, according to our likeness.’ (Gen 1:26)
God is inscribed on all the people of the world, on every one of us. We are all made in the image of God. We can never be cut off from God. We belong to God, and to one another. We are always part of one another; when we harm another we harm ourselves, our care for others is also care for ourselves. The Gospels are run through with this fundamental teaching: love God, and love our neighbours. Even in the face of hatred, despite the best efforts of all the Caesars of this world, we are called to love our neighbour; that is, all humanity, across the world. Even in the face of war, and division and hatred, we must continue to proclaim that God is love, that we live in the image of that love, that love is the way.
Returning to the place where this sermon began, the Eucharist … how does this Gospel relate to our Eucharist celebration?
Louis Weil is an American Episcopal priest and teacher of liturgical and sacramental studies. Writing about the Eucharist he says that the body of Christ, named when the bread is placed in our open hands, does not refer only to the consecrated wafer. He writes,
‘We need to hear again the words of Saint Augustine to his people at Hippo: “You are the bread on the altar; behold your mystery.” The consecrated gifts,’ Weil says, ‘are to us as a mirror, the Body of Christ in our hands a mirror to the Body of Christ within us.’
This takes me back to my comments at the beginning of this sermon, about the words and gestures of the Eucharistic Prayer entering into me; I believe that as we celebrate the Eucharist together, this is also true for you. It can be, for you as well as for me, an experience of deep comfort, of safety and comfort as when we are in our safest, most familiar place. We are fully known here.
And whose image do we see in that bread? The image in the Eucharistic bread is none other than our own, and simultaneously the image of God, in whose image we are made. The ‘Amen’ we speak aloud as we receive the bread is a naming of our desire and hope and trust that we are the body of Christ. For in that moment we regard ourselves in the ‘mirror’ of the consecrated host, and are gifted with the vision of God within us, and God beside us, as we gather, the family of God, round the altar.
So, when the time comes for communion today, I encourage you all, no matter how you have ended up being here today, no matter what your religious background, to come forward. All who are baptised are welcome to receive the bread and wine of communion, and if you would prefer not to receive, then come forward for a blessing. Come to this altar, for gathered together here, we encounter God, before us, surrounding us, on our left and our right, and deep within us.
Amen.