Humanity, Humanism, & My New iPhone
So old Roman coins are kind of like iPhones. Well not anymore. But to the citizens of ancient Roman colonies, they were pretty awesome. Having them in your pocket meant you were “connected”. Whipping them out in public was a clear statement of your cultural savviness. Of course there were other ways to buy stuff like bartering and such. But simply put, possession of Caesar’s coins was to side with the awesome populace of humanity.
Ok, this isn’t a post about Apple products at all really. That would be the last thing the blogosphere needs aside from another rant about what white people like or why famous authors are mad at the church. This is about being human.
In the first century, the trend went something like this: be a Roman citizen, hoard and spend Roman money, and – bam – you’re a first class human being. All others were second rate. It was a worldview that people would literally buy into. The humanistic Caesar agenda was working. Even in Israel.
Enter Jesus. Seen from his world’s eyes, he was a homeless, self-proclaimed Jewish Messiah who didn’t seem to care either way about Caesar or his coins. Taught a lot about a kingdom. Backed up his statements by performing outlandish signs. Gave special attention to women and children in a male-chauvinist society. Embraced the wicked. Argued with the righteous. Commanded people to love the bad guys. Looked forward to being killed by the good guys. Confused lots of folks with talk of coming back to life. But for whatever reason, he was getting super popular. So popular in fact, that the local politicians had to do something about it. And they went for the jugular.
Politicians: “Should we pay taxes to Caesar or not?”
Clever. A classic political move. They were trying split up Jesus’ fans into two groups: pro-Caesar and anti-Caesar. That way, people would stop following this Jesus and start debating about coins. But this was Jesus they were messing with.
Jesus: “Why put me to the test? Bring me a denarius and let me look at it.”
So they brought Jesus one of those coins. To the pious conservatives looking on, it was a pagan symbol of darkness. To the progressive liberals it represented a new wave of human enlightenment. Everyone stood breathless. No one expected what happened next.
Jesus: “Whose likeness and inscription is this?”
Politicians: “Caesar’s.”
Jesus: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
I often hear this quote around April 15th. Preachers use it to teach about paying taxes. Sure that’s part of it, but I don’t think that’s Jesus’ point. It’s way bigger than that. Like way bigger. Jesus wasn’t teaching a lesson about the ethics of taxpaying. Jesus was drawing attention to the coin. Specifically, the image on the coin. It was Caesar’s face. So give him his coin. Jesus didn’t care. Spend them. Collect them. Pay taxes with them. It didn’t matter. Jesus didn’t buy into the humanistic Caesar agenda for a second. It’s a coin with a face stamped on it. Jesus had his own agenda.
Eternity is unpacked for us with that last sentence of his. Sure, let Caesar have what bears his image. But infinitely more importantly, let God have what bears His. When we get this straight, the stars shine brighter and the universe falls into place. All the cool stuff that made the world go around suddenly amounts to the mere flicker of a candle out-shined by the morning sunrise. Worldliness gives way to worship. Here is the human project. We are God’s image bearers. And he wants us back. Let’s lead humanity into his possession.
“Above the Sky”
