We encounter two very interesting groups of people in our Gospel this weekend: The Pharisees and the Herodians. It would be difficult to find two more diverse classes of people. The Herodians, taking their name from King Herod, were sympathetic to Roman rule and the system of taxation in place. The Pharisees, on the other hand, were faithful to the letter of the law and favored a free Israel and the liberation from all ties to Caesar. What brought them together, St. Matthew tells us, is that they “plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech” (Matthew 22:15). They are united in a plan to destroy Jesus, and come to Him with the question: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”
In fact, their trap was quite clever. If Jesus says that it is lawful to pay the census tax, then the Pharisees will say that He is in favor of Roman occupation and not faithful to the Jewish law. If he says, “No, the tax is not lawful,” then He will come across as opposing King Herod and the Roman government. They really have Him closed into a small space. His response, however, is both brilliant and challenging. He says, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”
It is brilliant because he captures the essence of the question at a level beyond what they were ever capable of thinking. In saying, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” he is encouraging faithful citizenship from a faith perspective. It is what St. Paul and the Apostles will echo in the New Testament, as well: Pay your taxes; vote; give proper respect to the authorities that receive their power from God. Live well as a good citizen, Jesus is saying, according to your conscience.
What becomes really challenging, for them and for us, is the next part of that response: “Repay . . . to God what belongs to God.” In other words, while it is lawful to give back to Caesar his coins and the obedience to civil authorities that allows for good citizenship, everything else that we have and all that we are belongs to God! Our entire will, our money, our families and relationships, our job, everything belongs to Him.
It is challenging because we can sometimes have the mistaken idea that this sets up some kind of competition between us and God, as if He were the one opposed to full human freedom and perhaps ready to ask something of us that we are unable or unwilling to give. Pope
Emeritus Benedict XVI, in his inaugural homily in April 2005, expressed well this very concern:
If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that he might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom?
Those are great questions. If we look at our culture and our society today, where vocations are so lacking and fidelity to the Church’s beautiful teachings can be so lax in the world around us, is not this mistaken sense of freedom a significant part of the problem? Men are not confident to say, “Yes” to God in a vocation to the priesthood, and men and women are not confident to give themselves completely over to a religious vocation because they fear that God may take away something beautiful. Couples very much in love with each other nonetheless hold back from a full commitment in marriage because they fear losing out on something, or that giving themselves to each other in that Sacrament and inviting God deeply into their relationship will somehow diminish what they have. Pope Emeritus Benedict continues:
If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great.
Saying, “yes,” to God completely, giving to God what belongs to God (which is everything), is the very path to freedom, happiness and joy. Discovering that is one of the great challenges and mysteries of life, and to walk the path of true freedom in Christ can be the most exciting journey. To live in freedom, though, means to let go of the things that hold us back and that can be difficult and even painful.
There is an excellent book by an author named Ursula Le Guin called The Tombs of Atuan. It is part of her fantasy fiction series, “Earthsea Cycle.” The main character in The Tombs of Atuan is Tenar, a young woman whose life is dedicated to safeguarding and protecting a remote, underground part of the earth. As a young girl of only 5 she was given over to this work, destined to live beneath the mountains and serve the mysterious powers of darkness that lurk therein.
There is little light in that underground world, but she favors the caverns and caves beneath the main chambers, which are in total darkness. She has walked many years within that unlit labyrinth, and she has no fear of the dark. One day, however, she is completely surprised to find a man in that place where no man has ever been.
The man named Ged, wandering through the tombs of Atuan, is a wizard, like Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings. He is a good character, seeking a treasure within those caverns that will allow him to wield tremendous good in the world outside. But he is no match for Tenar, who strategically cordons him off within that place and then locks him in.
Her very reason for being in these tombs is precisely to guard them from people like Ged, so her next move would certainly be to hand him over, which would mean his demise. But she is fascinated by him. He represents the outside world, a world that she has never seen. He represents the light, whereas she has spent her entire life in darkness.
Reluctantly at first, but then increasingly so, she engages him in conversation. Eventually, he is able to help her see that this life she is living is not true freedom and power, but that leaving it would give her a new and different life. She hesitates. “I don’t know what to do,” she confides, “I am afraid.” Ged breaks it down for her in the most simple of terms. He tells her that she must make a choice, use her freedom: “Either you must leave me, lock the door, go up to your altars and give me to your Masters . . . and that is the end of the story—or, you must unlock the door, and go out of it, with me . . . and that is the beginning of the story.” She makes the decision to leave and go with Ged.
As they break free of that place and enter into the mountains, Tenar is filled with joy and utter exhilaration. This is the outside world, this is all that she has been missing! When they travel down the mountain pass and reach Ged’s boat at the seashore, they begin to sail away. Only then does Ged begin to feel relief and he shouts in exhilaration to Tenar, “We’re away, now we’re clear, we’re clean gone, Tenar. Do you feel it?” The author continues and says:
She did feel it. A dark hand had let go its lifelong hold upon her heart. But she did not feel joy as she had in the mountains. She put her head down and cried . . . She cried for the wasted years in bondage to a useless evil. She wept in pain because she was free.
This week Jesus Christ calls us to complete freedom. He calls us to “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” We are called to give God everything. In many ways that journey is exhilarating and joyful, but it could also be painful and challenging as we let go of all that holds us back from being true sons and daughters of God. This week we pray for the grace to be good citizens, but especially good Christians who are willing to “Repay . . . to God what belongs to God.”
