Gospel for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew (Mt 22, 15-21)
The Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying,
"Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone's opinion, for you do not regard a person's status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?"
Knowing their malice, Jesus said, "Why are you testing me, you hypocrites? Show me the coin that pays the census tax."
Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, "Whose image is this and whose inscription?" They replied, "Caesar's." At that he said to them, "Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God."
The Gospel of the Lord.
Father Michele Sciotti's commentary
Dearly beloved brothers and sisters,
There are phrases of Jesus that have literally split human history in two. The one for this Sunday is perhaps the most famous, but also the most misunderstood: "Render to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's."
To understand the power of these words, we must look at the deadly trap that had been set for Jesus. On that day, two groups that normally hated each other approached Him: the Pharisees, who were nationalists and opposed to Rome, and the Herodians, who had always been faithful collaborators with the Empire. These two groups were sworn enemies in life, but they became allies in order to eliminate Jesus. They asked Him a venomous question: "Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?"
Can you understand the trap? If Jesus says "Yes, pay it," the Pharisees will cry out to the people that He is a traitor to the fatherland, sold out to the pagan invaders. If He says "No, do not pay it," the Herodians will run to the Roman governor to accuse Him of insurrection and political sedition. Whatever Jesus answers, He is effectively doomed.
But Jesus, who searches hearts, immediately unmasks them: "Hypocrites, why are you testing me?" And He does not answer with a political treatise. He asks for something very simple: "Show me the coin used for the tax." So they brought Him a silver denarius. And Jesus asks: "Whose image and inscription is this?" They answer: "Caesar's." And here is the stroke of genius that ruins the plot: "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's."
In an instant, Jesus carries out a true "Copernican revolution," effectively inventing the distinction between religion and politics. Until then, for all ancient peoples, the State and the deity were fused: the emperor was a god and religion was a matter of State. Israel itself dreamed of an earthly theocracy. Jesus, on the other hand, separates the two levels: there is a Kingdom of God that is in this world, but is not of this world; a Kingdom that does not need armies or coins to advance.
Be careful, however: Jesus is not saying that Caesar and God are on the same level! They are not two equal masters. Caesar himself—as Scripture reminds us in the Book of Wisdom—is a creature who will have to give an account to God for his actions: this is because the Creator is the sovereign of all, including the powerful.
What does it mean, then, to give to Caesar what is Caesar's? It means: give to Caesar what God Himself wants to be given to Caesar. And what belongs to him? Saint Paul, in chapter 13 of the Letter to the Romans, explains it with impressive realism: civic honesty, respect for just laws, and the loyal payment of taxes. And mind you: Paul requested this toward a pagan State that would soon persecute Christians to death!
Paying taxes, in fact, is a duty of social justice: it guarantees (or, at least, should guarantee) roads, hospitals, services, and the defense of the poor. Serious tax evasion—as the Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us—is not cleverness: it is a theft committed not against an abstract entity, but against the community, against the good of all.
But there is an insurmountable boundary that Caesar cannot cross: conscience. You can give Caesar the coin, but you must give God your soul! This is because the statement pronounced by Jesus, taken in the context of the Scriptures, assumes an impressive clarity that plays precisely on the concept of image: the coin belongs to Caesar because it bears the image of Caesar, but man bears the image of God; therefore, man and his conscience belong to God alone!
When the State tramples on divine law, when it claims to determine who has the right to live and who does not, when it asks to bend the truth to falsehood, the Christian has the moral duty to resist. In the courtrooms of history, the excuse of "I was only following orders from superiors" is not valid. Before obeying men, one must obey God. Your conscience does not belong to any party, to any government: it belongs to your Creator.
Let us look at history: for three hundred years, the first Christians lived in hiding, persecuted, in diaspora. As the Letter to Diognetus wonderfully wrote: "Christians are in the world what the soul is in the body." Scattered everywhere, without political power, but capable of changing the world through the sole force of charity and martyrdom.
Then came Constantine and, with him, the Empire became Christian. Great benefits arrived, certainly, but also compromises, thirst for power, and spiritual worldliness, to the point that many believers had to flee into the desert—inventing monasticism—to rediscover the purity of the Gospel.
Today, dear friends, we have returned to that original condition: we are once again in a diaspora. We are no longer the majority that dictates the law. And perhaps it is a providential grace, because it forces us not to trust in the palaces of power, but to be the salt of the earth and leaven in the dough.
And how can we make an impact on society? By defending life from its beginning to its natural end, by safeguarding the family, and by standing beside the least among us. But above all, there is an urgent contribution that we must give: our method, our style. In a society poisoned by verbal hatred, sarcasm, and constant fighting between political factions, the disciple of Christ must bring gentleness, respect, and truth spoken with love. Stooping to insults and vulgarity is unworthy of the Gospel.
Let us close with an uncomfortable question: do we pray for those who govern? It is easy to criticize politicians from the sofa and complain about what is wrong. But Saint Paul wrote to Timothy: "I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all kings and for all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way." Do we do this? Before judging, have we bent our knees to ask for light upon those who have public responsibilities?
Here is the message we bring home this Sunday: look at the coin: there is Caesar's face, and you can give him the money. But now look at your heart: whose image is imprinted inside you? You were created in the image and likeness of God: do not sell yourself to any idol of this world, but entrust your freedom, your choices, and your life to the only Lord of history.
Have a blessed Sunday, everyone.