Mark 12:13-17: image is everything

It isn’t surprising that on the heels of Jesus stinging critique of the religious leaders of his day that they would seek to discredit him in some way.  Immediately following Jesus re-telling of the parable of the tenants some Pharisees and Herodians show up attempting to snare him in a legal technicality.  In fact, the Greek word agreusosin is used only here in the New Testament, with its usage elsewhere referring to the snaring of animals.  The hunt is on, and Jesus is the prey being stalked by the religious elites of his day. 

Their flattery is designed to force him into answering the question they pose, and their desire for an answer is understandable.  It would seem that they have cleverly formulated a question that will put Jesus between the proverbial rock and a hard place.  If he says yes, that Jews should pay taxes to Caesar, he is a collaborator with the Roman.  If he says no, he is a revolutionary.  Jesus’ choice is to be so unpopular as to become irrelevant and thus of no threat to the establishment, or to become an insurrectionist and thus a marked enemy of the state.  It was six of one and half a dozen of the other for Jesus’ enemies, who saw the end result being the same, the neutralization of Jesus preaching and teaching. 

      

What those opponents weren’t banking on however, was the cleverness of Jesus’ response.  Indeed, Jesus responds is such a way that ultimately it is the Herodians and Pharisees that are trapped.  By asking for a denarius, Jesus is showing that he doesn’t carry money, or at least not Roman money.  By providing it, his accusers are showing that they carry and make use of Roman coinage.  Before even attempting to answer the question, Jesus has discredited those who asked it.   The coin would have been well-known because of its circulation in everyday use, as is witnessed by their recognition of the image of Caesar.  This is what the coin would have looked like: 

(Courtesy of the Digital Image Archive, Pitts Theology Library, Candler School of Theology, Emory University)

Jesus asks whose eikon, or image, is on the coin.  One side of the coin would have read “Tiberius Caesar, son of divine Augustus”, while the other would have said pontifex maximus, referring to Caesar’s role as high priest of Rome.  Tiberius reigned from 14-37 AD.

So it’s the emperor’s image.  What does that mean for how Christians should respond to political authority?  Paul and Peter, two of the most prominent apostles and leaders of the early church, both instruct Christians to respect the governing authorities.  They understood that peace and political stability make for a good environment in which to preach the gospel.  Paul traveled from Ephesus, to Corinth, to Philippi, to Colossae, and eventually to Rome, on roads built and protected by the Romans.  As a citizen, he enjoyed certain protections.  In a sense, the Roman Empire was a tool that God would use to help spread Christianity.  And yet, Jesus is sure to differentiate between the emperor and God.  The emperor needs your money and your loyalty, so it can be used to maintain, and even expand his domains, his power.  God doesn’t need your money or your loyalty, but he desires your love.  Caesar claims the coins in your pocket because they bear his image, but God claims the person carrying those coins, because that’s what bears the divine image.  Perhaps we should learn something from Jesus here.  He isn’t interested in quibbling over money, wealth, or material possessions.  Instead, he makes a statement about what truly matters, relationships.  When Christ looks at us, he sees someone that bears the image of God, and he desperately wants us to recognize that image in ourselves, and return the love and devotion that he offers us continually.  

“Almighty God,

We come to you, thankful for the grace and the mercy that you continually extend to us.  Help us to examine ourselves, and to discern your image not in our appearance, but in our entire being.  Help us to understand the depth of your love for us, a love so deep that you would send even your own Son to not only call us to repentance, but to die for us as well.  May we return to you the love and devotion that you show toward us each and every day.

We ask this in the name of your beloved son, Jesus Christ,

Amen.”

Philippians 2:1-11: From God to slave to Lord, the gospel story as a story of service

This past Sunday, as an attempt to worship God with our actions and not only our words, our church participated in a “Service Sunday”.  After morning worship, we shared a meal and then divided up to tackle different projects.  Some of our children delivered hand-made cards to the residents of a nursing home in Alexandria, while some of the adults tackled projects for families at our church, and also helped sort clothing that we had collected for a local women and children’s home.  In a world that seems to focus on competition as a motivating factor in all of our behavior, why take the time to serve others?  

To answer that question, we explored Philippians 2:1-11, where Paul offers up Jesus Christ as the ultimate example of service to others.  In a continuation of his thoughts at the end of Philippians 1, Paul picks up the discussion of how community strengthens our resolve in the face of opposition to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  In the first four verse of Philippians 2 we see two things at work.  First of all, there is a relationship between the Philippians Christians and the Trinity.  While many translations read “if there is any encouragement…”, the Greek syntax is deploying “if” in an “if-then” sort of way, so that the “if” is actually better translated “since”.  “Since there is encouragement in Christ…since there is solace of love…since there is a sharing of the Spirit.”  Each of these ties into a person of the Trinity, with encouragement coming from Christ, love coming from the Father, and the sharing of the Spirit referring to the Holy Spirit at work in and shared by all Christians.  How fitting that the relationship that exists within the Trinity is shown to be intimately tied to the Philippian Christians’ relationship to God, and also as Paul continues his statement, to the relationship that the Philippians have one with another.  “Since there are compassions and mercies” is a clear allusion to the outgrowth of encouragement, solace, and the sharing of the Spirit that is witnessed in the lives of those who follow Christ.  “Selfish ambition” and “vain conceit” are condemned, and will soon be contrasted with the character of Jesus Christ.  Instead humility, a Christian virtue shunned by the Romans of Paul’s day, is offered as the keystone to authentic community.  An invitation to consider others as better than ourselves is difficult to swallow, and yet as we will see necessary if the church is to thrive.  As a way of driving home his point, Paul concludes this short section with instructions that “each of you” should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.  In a succinct and yet powerful way, the apostle has demonstrated that community begins with the individual and their decision to broaden their cares and concerns beyond the scope of themselves, to encompass the needs and concerns of others.

      

It sounds great in theory, but does it work?  Can anyone actually live such a life?  Anticipating our skepticism, Paul transitions into a telling of the story of the gospel that emphasizes how Jesus Christ serves as  the pattern for such a life.  In verses 5 through 8 of Philippians 2 we see how the Son of God voluntarily became a slave, in the process providing the most powerful example possible of love, humility, and service.  God’s mindset is revealed to us in the incarnation, so that we no longer need to speculate on the divine nature, and what is at the very heart of God.  Christ “emptied himself”, which is the exact opposite of the vain conceit Paul has just warned us against.  The contrast is even stronger in the original Greek, where the literal translation of conceit is “empty glory”, or glory that is baseless.  While we sinners often glorify ourselves with no justification, Christ emptied himself for the greatest reason of all, love.  In taking the form of a slave, Christ renounced selfish ambition, and demonstrated that it is not in God’s nature to grasp.  Rather, Jesus refuses to consider his equality with God, all the while showing us what it means to consider others as greater than ourselves.  In the ultimate example of emptying oneself, Christ even went so far as to suffer death on a cross.  The scandal is not immediately apparent to us standing several centuries distant from Jesus’ day.  And yet, God on a cross was the scandal that the Philippian Christians and all Christians had to live with.  Imagine glorifying the instrument of death that killed the one you proclaim to be Messiah.  Imagine trying to explain how it could be that the one the world proclaimed as lord, Caesar, could execute the one you claimed to be both Lord and Savior.  The theologian N. T. Wright touches on this tension when he states that “the real humiliation of the incarnation and the cross is that one who was himself God, and who never during the whole process stopped being God, could embrace such a vocation.”  It makes little sense to think that God could die, that God would die, or at least it makes little sense if that is the end of the story.  But it’s not. 

Paul continues the story to its rightful conclusion, where we see the God who became a slave, in turn becoming Lord.  There is a borrowing from Jewish scripture in this section that ties together Jesus and the Father, indirectly and yet unmistakably making the case that they are indeed one and the same in terms of their divine nature.  In the book of Isaiah, Yahweh instructs Israel saying:

 “Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other.

By myself I have sworn; from my mouth has gone out in righteousness a word that shall not return: ‘To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.’” – Isaiah 45:22-23

Yahweh, God the Father, transfers his prerogatives to Jesus, the Lord, announcing Christ’s right to universal sovereignty.  This is our bold proclamation as Christians, that the same Jesus who suffered and died in service to mankind, is also Lord over humanity.  It’s also our motivation for seeking ways that we can love and serve others.  The noted preacher and New Testament scholar Fred Craddock would remark that in this telling of the gospel story, we see that “the central event in the drama of salvation is an act of humble service.”  If we indeed are to live Christ-like lives, then we find ourselves cast in the role of those who humbly serve the least among us.  In closing, I'd like to share the lyrics to a song that does a far better job of preaching the essence of this passage, and what it means to be Christ-like, than I ever could. 

“Sometimes I think

What will people say of me

When I’m only just a memory

When I’m home where my soul belongs

Was I love

When no one else would show up

Was I Jesus to the least of those

Was my worship more than just a song

I want to live like that

And give it all I have

So that everything I say and do

Points to You

If love is who I am

Then this is where I’ll stand

Recklessly abandoned

Never holding back

I want to live like that”

Sidewalk Prophets, “Live Like That”