Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
A good place to begin work on Mt 22:15-22, a debate between Jesus and a strange coalition of Pharisee disciples and Herodians, is to set aside a couple of pathways toward the pulpit that may be tempting, but are not warranted by the text considered within its ancient context.
First, the socio-political dynamics here are not at all like our own. The coin that the Herodians present to Jesus displays not only Caesar’s image, but a phrase reminding the bearer that Caesar is to be worshiped: “Tiberius Caesar, august son of the divine Augustus, high priest.” This claim presented a profound dilemma for devout Jews, who flinched at even handling a coin with the engraved likeness of Caesar on it (see Exodus 12:4; Dt 4:16). In some modern nation-states, the power of government and religious authority are all but indistinguishable (e.g. some Islamic states); yet even they do not demand that worship, as such,be rendered to any being other than God. Clearly, no truly comparable conflict of claims exists in the U.S. Yet, the fact that we do not share precisely the dilemma citizens of occupied Israel faced in the 1st c. does not mean that the issues in play here are not relevant for us.
That granted, we must resist the temptation to recruit this text in service to a rousing sermon on the separation of church and state. Jesus’ response to his challengers avoids both heresy and sedition, but also rules out any simplistic sorting of life into two neat compartments, one spiritual, the other material. For God’s claim upon human beings includes both.
Jesus’ response to the question about paying taxes to Caesar is both ingenious and dripping with irony. What is ironic is that, in their transparently insincere, flattering preamble, Jesus’ interlocutors say, literally, “we know that you do not regard the face of [trans.: show partiality to] anyone.” Jesus points directly to the face on the coin, then asks a counter-question, “Whose image is this?” He thus invokes the theological anthropology of Gn 1:26 (“let us make [humanity] in our own image and likeness”). “Caesar’s!” they reply (probably bitterly, knowing he’s called their bluff). “Render to Caesar’s what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s,” Jesus says. They are mute.
What is Caesar’s? That which features Caesar’s face, the head-tax coin demanded of every Israelite, rich or poor, once a year. What makes Jesus’ reply truly brilliant is that every one of his listeners, as well as Mt’s readers, recognize that every human being, including Caesar, is an image-bearer of Israel’s God and thus utterly accountable to God. Even as they render the hated coin once a year, every Jewish person knows that Caesar’s utterly human face betrays him. He is utterly human and thus bears the image of One far mightier. He and his empire are answerable to Almighty God.
Jesus’ answer allows us no simplistic sorting out of obligations. The state and God are not equally legitimate, parallel realms to which we are equally indebted. The state itself has a merely human face, no matter how confidently power-hungry heads of state may sneer and swagger.
Down the centuries, the conviction that only God is worthy of worship has inspired courageous Christians, Jews, and peace-loving Muslims to resist the misuse and abuse of power by the state. Now, amid the complexities of our time, we seek the welfare of the most vulnerable bearers of the divine image among us. What does rendering all to God look like in practice? Surely we must cry out when thousands who bear the divine image are labelled as threats to the economy or to “our nation’s best interests” and then are misrepresented, harassed, stripped of voice and vote, or simply butchered in war, while “Caesar” feigns innocence and ignorance.
The original context of this debate was very unlike our own; yet Jesus’ reply shines a piercing light on affairs of state in our own time, and searches, as well, our own hearts and souls.
Insights into Biblical Greek Grammar and Syntax 