Proper 24 2014

Proper 24, 2014

“Whose image is it on the coin, and whose title?”

It’s no secret that Jesus, by this time, was pretty sick of the Pharisees and their shenanigans. When they asked him about paying taxes (to a foreign superpower, who was occupying Israel no less); they’re hoping to either hear Jesus denounce Rome (which would have gotten him arrested); or, if he said nothing against it, they could have him stoned to death for blasphemy… A win-win, of sorts.

But, not missing a beat, Jesus called them out—“You hypocrites, show me the money used to pay the tax.” Of course, even though these were God-fearing, religiously observant men; all of them were able to produce coins; all of them marked with a graven image… You might recall, God mentioning graven images in the 10 Commandments…

Anyway, the big punchline comes when Jesus says to them give to the emperor what is the emperor’s, and give to God what is God’s. (Blam. Drops the mic, and walks off stage). As usual, the people are amazed—some of them probably even a little hacked-off, as well.

The funny thing about this reading (besides the fact that it’s a funny story) is that it happens to be scheduled in the Lectionary right around stewardship time for churches. Seriously.

  

So, I’m not sure what the drafters of the Lectionary had in mind here. I mean, was this reading chosen because it just happens to mention money? Or, is the strategy to get everyone to start thinking that money is somehow so icky that the best option any of us has is to give it all to the Church? If only that would work… The trouble is that we’ve already heard that Jesus recommends giving the stuff that belongs to the emperor to the emperor, and to God what is God’s. I suppose we might next go outside, and like the old joke says, throw all of our money into the air, and whatever God wants, God can keep… Probably not.

The point is, this already isn’t that great of a stewardship reading—and besides, when we begin looking too narrowly at Scripture, we end up in all sorts of ridiculous places.

On the other hand; Tertullian, the Early Church Father—you all remember Tertullian…North African guy, late First to early Second century, prolific defender of Trinitarian theology before he became a heretic? Right, that Tertullian (cool guy, nice beard).

Anyway, Tertullian, when commenting on this passage (I’m pretty sure it was him), wrote that just as the coins are understood to belong to the emperor because it bore the image of the emperor (give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor); we may presume that the same is true for us. If humanity bears the Image of God, then there should be no question to Whom we belong… So, we ought to give to God what belongs to God—ourselves.

  

Obviously this is a little more costly than simply pledging some amount of money for the year—but, I think it gives a much fuller understanding of stewardship. We probably remember the old saying that stewardship is about “Time, Talent, and Treasure…” It’s effective enough, I suppose—but I think it’s more about the alliteration.

The truth is that for many people Time is harder to give than Treasure, because our lives are completely mad. And as for Talent…well, I suppose a lot of people have either never had a chance to discern what their talents were—or, they’ve never thought that their particular talent could be used for the good of the Church. Whatever the case, it becomes an easier commitment to give of our Treasure than our Time and Talent.

However, I think, in this case, we find that it becomes harder to think of the Church as a priority—especially when it kind of becomes one more place where we send money…

But it’s a funny thing about currency—it doesn’t have any real value unless it is being shared, and distributed. In fact, we even know that currency can lose and gain value. So, unless money is moving throughout an economic system; it’s not really worth anything in and of itself.

Now, I’m not about to say that people don’t have any worth or value unless they’re being shared and distributed. However, I would say that humanity is enriched when we share ourselves. Our stories, our experiences, and even our very personhood are appreciated when they’re shared in community.

And so, just as Tertullian says (I’m almost certain it was Tertullian--anyway)—just as some really impressive Early Church Father has explained, we should give to God what belongs to God—and, all things considered, the only thing that we could reasonably give to God would be our selves.

The reality is, this isn’t a new concept—Tertullian aside. Giving ourselves to God; to God’s work and mission in the world—it’s what we’re called to regularly. In the Rite I Eucharistic prayers we say that we’re presenting ourselves, our souls and bodies to be a reasonable and living sacrifice. We’re reminded of St. Paul’s admonition to present ourselves as a living sacrifice. And in Baptism; we give ourselves to Christ’s death to somehow receive the promise of resurrection.

I don’t know if it’s because we think we’ve tamed God; cleaned-up Jesus; or made the Holy Spirit more respectable…but, I think we’ve forgotten how dangerous our faith is supposed to be. But, it is the danger—or more likely the full emersion into this faith journey that changes us; that kills that false self; that calls us to a truly renewed life. But that’s why it requires us to give ourselves wholly to it. That’s also what makes it so provocative.

So, the elevator pitch is simply this: Whatever the amount we pledge, or whatever the amount we hope to give will always be received, blessed, and sent back into the world through the life of the Church (in one way or another).

 But let’s just say that we were willing to put ourselves in the offering plate… (It’s kind of a funny mental image really) Imagine, though, what it would mean to be gathered together—received; then blessed; and sent back into the world through the life of the Church in one way or another.

Now, I know we more-or-less do this sort of thing in the liturgy. We come together, we receive the sacraments, and we’re sent back into the world. But, there would be a difference… If we did commit to giving ourselves—our time, talent and treasure, sure—but if we really gave our lives, our selves, our families, our hopes, our dreams—everything to God; I believe everything would be different.

Of course, I’m talking about a state of mind, a state of heart; but, when we resolve to make all that we do and all that we are belong to God—everything is set in a different kind of economy. It may not mean that we have any more time than we did before—but, it may just mean that we’re less anxious, and have a bit more clarity of mind to carry on. It may not mean we know what we could offer to the work of the Church—but we may find people who can help us discern our gifts and call to service. And, it may not mean that we have an abundance of treasure (sigh that’s the teaching from a completely different church than ours—and a different Gospel and Jesus, besides…). Anyway, we may not have more treasure—but we may find a wealth of other kinds of blessing.

But, then again, any one of these things could be changed by giving ourselves to God; because we don’t know how being in a faith community that knows us, cares for us, and wants to support us might help us…

Admittedly, though, I will say that this concept of giving our selves—and not just from ourselves seems easier than it really is. Because, as you might imagine, when we give ourselves, we also no longer belong to ourselves. So, this means we have to constantly be reminded that we don’t get to live our lives to selfish ends. However, it also means living as if our lives are a gift to us, and to others, as well.

Finally, I know that telling people that money isn’t important is a miserable way to preach a stewardship sermon…especially with a deficit budget. However, I will say that I know that money follows mission; and I believe even more, that when the people of God choose to give themselves to whatever mission it is that God is calling them to—it changes everything. Hearts are changed, lives are changed, and people are changed when we commit ourselves to belonging to God, and to God’s work in the world… And that kind of commitment inevitably draws other people, who also find themselves giving to God what has always belonged to God.

So, if we all give ourselves to God, and God sends us to do God’s work…money doesn’t seem quite as valuable compared to committed souls.

Besides, whose image is on the coin, and whose Image is on us?