This morning’s Gospel reading is Matthew 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.”

Who doesn’t love this Gospel passage? It offers us both comic and retributive elements, with the powers of society at that time falling into the trap of their own making. The Pharisees and the Herodians are laughably unctuous in their approach as to almost get reduced to satire, and their attempted snare is so easily defeated that the pratfall aspect of it still echoes down through the millennia.

This should create gales of laughter at Mass during the reading. So why doesn’t it? Perhaps in part because it hits a little too close to home. After all, this recounting of the clash between Jesus and the Pharisees acts not just as a history, but also as a parable … and guess which part of the lesson we usually play?

Let’s focus first on the argument itself, which is a foreshadowing of the strategy that the Pharisees and Herodians used to have Jesus crucified. The partnership between the two was unusual anyway, since the Herodians were Roman collaborators; Herod and Herod Antipas were clients and stewards appointed by Rome to oppress Judea under the veneer of local royalty. The Pharisees were temple purists who had little reason to love the Herodians. But both relied on the Temple for their claims to authority, and recognized the threat of Jesus’ teachings to those claims.

This attempt to make Jesus declare against Roman taxation was nothing more than a first attempt at a strategy to work with the occupiers to deal with Jesus. That is why Jesus rebukes them as hypocrites, along with their false flattery. They pretend to hate the Roman occupation but have no problem using the Romans to get rid of a rabbi they oppose, and as we read in the Passion, they eventually succeed in doing so. The Herodians were benefiting in part from the taxation, and according to some scholars, were the direct taxing authority — another level of hypocrisy that Jesus certainly would have included in His contempt. This attempt was so poorly conceived, however, that it exposed them for what they were, and how overmatched the collective temple-political clique was with Jesus.

All of that can be gleaned from the text and from the historical context. However, what is that meant to teach us? We are meant to recognize ourselves in this exchange, not discern on tax policy or have a laugh at the expense of the Herodians. Because as much as we can cluck our tongues at Jesus’ challengers in this passage, this is exactly what we do with sin.

How do we sin? We offer plenty of praise and flattery to Jesus in our prayers, and then we argue over the boundaries of sin. We hold up the shiny coin of desire and try to get Jesus to say that it’s Caesar’s rather than His. We do not do this to trap Jesus so much as to contain Jesus and the Lord, drawing boundaries between His authority and our own.

In other words, we render unto the Lord what we think is the Lord’s. In all other areas, we make ourselves our own lords and idols, and fall into sin. As always in sin, it is a rebellion against the Lord’s authority, going all the way back to the Garden of Eden.

And in doing so while offering praise and fluffery to Christ’s authority, we become exactly the same kind of hypocrites as the Pharisees and Herodians. What were they trying to do? The Pharisees were grasping onto the authority that had been given to them in stewardship by God, while the Herodians were doing the same with the authority granted by the Roman conquerors to Herod the Great and his later descendants. They had no intention of honoring the authority of the Lord if it conflicted with those ambitions, even while mouthing praise and honor to Him.

Does that sound familiar? More importantly, does that sound like betrayal?

Fortunately, Jesus loves us so much that He offers us a continual opportunity to break that cycle and return to Him. All we need to do is let go of the desires and ambitions that keep us obsessed with what belongs to Caesar and the material world, and recognize that we and all we are belong to the Lord.

The front-page image is “The Tribute Money” by Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1612. On display at the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. Via Wikimedia Commons.

“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.