KAUWHAU at TE POU
HERENGA WAKA O TE WHAKAPONO
(South Napier)
29th
Sunday in Ordinary Time (te Rātapu rua tekau mā iwa o he wā noa iho)
(October 22nd)
2017
READINGS
Exodus 33.12-23
Psalm 99
1 Thessalonians
1.1-10
Matthew 22:15-20
Some months ago there was excruciating media
coverage of a meeting between Trump and his inner sanctum. Acting disturbingly
like so called “beloved leader” Kim Jong-un, Trump sat basking while the dutiful lackeys
around the room praised him for his magnificent leadership, his unparalleled
intelligence, his masterful nous.
To
be honest I’ve forgotten what the obedient sycophants dragged up, but it was a
sickening sight in a contemporary western democracy. Jacinda Ardern is riding
high right now without choreography, but I doubt she would lower herself to
demanding that her cabinet, one by one, pour praise and adulation upon her so
she could bask in fabricated glory.
In the Roman empire it was
almost obligatory to heap praise upon the Emperor Caesar if supplicants were to
gain his attention. But to a lesser degree it was a protocol in any formal
address. Perhaps Trump is re-inventing an old wheel. We see glimpses of it in
the Letter to the Thessalonians, as the author praises his audience for their
faithfulness in the gospel. It was a
protocol.
So the Pharisees’ approach
was not completely unusual. But they were out to trap Jesus. There is
going to be no honest engagement when the purpose of a conversation is
entrapment. The Pharisees
approach Jesus with no intention of engaging with his teachings, with him. Jesus engages with the questions at a level
far greater than their deceitfulness deserves, to our benefit. Jesus drives to
the heart of the thorny question of the relationship between believer and
state. It was a question that reached back into Judaism, to the times when the
Hebrews were first conquered or kidnapped by foreign powers. It was a question to
the fore during the time of Roman occupation. It was a question for believers
ever since, and is a question for us now.
At surface level it is about taxes, and today
the answer is fairly simple: pay the amount the law demands. We may not
altogether agree with the way our governments spend our taxes – I for one will
be watching eagerly to see if Jacinda keeps her promise to provide the fair
access to tertiary education that my generation took away – but I simply have
to accept that that is the privilege and risk of democracy. When things go
seriously we have options of non-violent resistance, even some sort of taxation
resistance, though it tends to be a reasonably ineffective protest.
But the bigger answer, when faced by
obsequious liars, is the subtext to Jesus’ response. Who is our God, where is
our city, where is our ultimate focus? The arguments that Donald Trump has
succeeded in rarking up in the United States, are a little foreign to laid-back
New Zealanders. Most of us enjoy the anthem, and are mildly ambivalent about
the flag (but not ambivalent enough to change it). Many of us enjoy the haka,
that has in thirty years gained a parallel anthem status. But the US obsession
with their nationalistic actions, and Trump’s focus on the issue, helps bring the
response of Jesus into focus. Should we stand, kneel, salute, or chew gum?
The question points to a deeper truth. Who is
our highest point of reference? The State? The leader of the State? Our pet
issue of concern? These issues are more difficult to sort than it might seem,
because we have the added question: who leads us to decide? I certainly have no
definitive answer, though I know many answers that are tragically wrong. In the
lead up to two World Wars, for example, the national churches of European
nations acted as if God were a slave, a token God of their nation alone. Often
we have recreated God in the image of our prejudices: as English god or White
god, as god recreated to look like me.
Let's be very careful: the God we serve is
the God who chooses to meet us not in places of power, but outside the city
wall, on the edge of a dump, on a cross, with only love to persuade us of
divine integrity. No flag, no anthem, no jingoistic clichés, no magic tricks., Love.
The biblical writers again and again try to
point us to God by reminding us that earth-bound perspectives are flawed. Flag,
anthem, clichés, tricks, all are imposters. This is why Jesus out-manoeuvres
the con-artists who trying to trap him, points them instead to a set of values
and beliefs and standards far higher than that of Caesar. Let Caesar, or Ardern
or anyone have their dues, but the God of the Cross demands a greater due. God demands
infinite love – and we all fall short of that.
I’m a great fan of Paul, and not of the
Pharisees – though I think they get a rough time at the hands of the gospel
writers. But in both cases the real gospel work begins after the obsequious
openings. Which makes for a strange kauwhau.
Because I leave you only with the question: where is our heart set? For there
our treasure will be also. Jesus and his prickly Paul alike move their very
different audiences on, challenging us to live in the shadow of God’s
judgement, which is also God’s grace, which is also God’s love. Jesus drives
past the Pharisees’ hypocrisy to tell us to live as a people of Christ’s love.
And we can do that only with and in the love and grace and help of God.
TLBWY
