Sunday Meditation: Testing a Truthful Man

For the Twenty-Nineth Sunday in Ordinary Time of Year A, we are still in what  Dr. Nina Heereman calls the “Temple Discourse,”  as I explained last week.  At the Temple during Christ’s last week leading to His passion, He comes in direct confrontation with the Jewish leaders.  In today’s passage the Jewish groups of the Pharisees and the Herodians try to lay a trap for Jesus. 

This passage is well-known for Christ’s saying of giving unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and onto God what is God’s, but what I find fascinating, and perhaps less mentioned is how the Pharisees deviously egg Jesus into being as frank as possible.   They tell Him He is a “truthful man.”  The irony is Jesus is the Truth, the Truth with a capital “T.”  Buttering Him up is a means of getting Him to answer their question. 

And He will answer their question, and He will answer it with Truth but it is not as the Pharisee’s expected.  Jesus will have none of it.  He calls them hypocrites to their face.

The key to this passage is not so much the implied division of church and state from Jesus’s answer, but the play on the word “image”: the image of Caesar versus the image of God in which humanity was made in. 

 

 

 

Today’s Gospel:

 

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."

~Mt: 22:15-21

 

 

I’m returning to Archbishop Edward J. Weisenburger from the diocese of Detroit for the exegetical homily.

 

Archbishop Weisenburger:

Now, recall that there were three taxes for the Jews of Jesus' day. First, an income tax, about 1% of your annual income. Second, a 10% tax on grain and grapes used for wine, but then a third tax that was the same for every adult Jewish citizen, roughly the equivalent of a day's wage. That third tax historically began as a way to rebuild the Great Temple in Jerusalem, but when the Roman armies overtook and occupied Palestine during Jesus' era, the Romans shifted this sacred temple tax to pay for the upkeep of their own temple to the pagan gods in Rome. And thus, you can see the crisis. Many faithful Jews saw the payment of that tax as an evil cooperation in reusing a tax meant for the holiest of purposes instead for something blasphemous. Notably, the Herodians quietly had no problem with it. They were actually the ones cooperating with King Herod and the Roman occupiers, and their cooperation with them brought them wonderful privilege.  The Pharisees, for their part, were less open about it, but they also pretty much had free movement in the culture, and so they may quietly have grumbled about paying that blasphemous tax, but few took a public stance, knowing it easily could lead to their being disappeared.  And so now in the temple precincts, these two groups try to force Jesus to either one, be a sellout with the Romans, with overtones of blasphemy, or two, the other option, publicly place a target on his back with the Romans.

 

Okay, it's at this point that Jesus, standing on sacred temple ground, asks them to show him a Roman coin, which of course was imprinted with the emperor's face.  It also bore an inscription we know for a fact indicating Caesar was God's "high priest."  A blasphemous statement. And two, most biblical scholars note that for a faithful Jew to simply have that coin on his person while on holy temple ground was itself blasphemous.  Which perhaps explains the reason why Jesus had to ask someone to "show me the coin,"   not having one on him himself. And revealing the Pharisees' own hypocrisy.  Okay, with that background in mind, Jesus takes the dilemma of them trying to trap him, and as we so often see, flips it right back on their heads. The coin itself is a blasphemous thing. Money in Jesus' day, much like our own day, technically belonged to the government, with citizens being able to use it for commerce.  Technically, in the law, it did belong to Caesar.  So, it seems Jesus says: give that horrible thing back to a horrible person. But if that's really more context or background, then I think there's still a deeper meaning of the encounter. A deeper meaning for those with the ears to hear and the eyes to see.  And that real or deeper meaning of the encounter was the remainder of what Jesus said to them.  "Give to God what belongs to God." And to the extent that we focus too much on what the coin meant might be the extent to which we too missed the point. Rather, Jesus' intent was the teaching. Give to God what belongs to God.

 

Brothers and sisters, just as a coin in Jesus' day was stamped with an image, you and I have been created, stamped if you will, in God's image. And you and I are no investment of which he wants simply a part. He really, really wants all of us. And he wants all of you. Moreover, God calls us to recognize and reverence that image of him imprinted on every human being.  And to be sure, the image has little or nothing to do with physical appearance.   Being in the image of God is to reflect God's love in creative and redemptive ways…. Brothers and sisters, I pray that you will have what Jesus would call  "the ears to hear, and the eyes to see."  Be not like the Pharisees or Herodians, twisting religion into something self-serving with a hefty benefit of status and stature. Rather, in recognizing first and foremost in whose image you have been created, and from there recognizing that same divine imprint on every human being, your task is to find ways in life to give to God what belongs to God. Trust me, the Caesars of today can take care of themselves.

And what belongs to God?  Your worship and your service.

 

For the pastoral sermon (not a homily) I’m going to turn to someone new, Susan Breton of U. S. Catholic Magazine.

 

Ms. Breton:

Have you ever lost something? How did you get it back?  Maybe it was your purse, your wallet, your phone, your keys, something of sentimental value.  When someone found it, they knew it belonged to you because there was something on it that identified it as being yours. Your name, your picture, something that said, "This belongs to someone." And maybe that's what we are being asked today.  What Jesus is asking us, who do we belong to?

 

So Jesus asks for a coin. He asks whose image is this and whose inscription? And they answer Caesar. And Jesus says, then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God. The word Jesus uses for image is the Greek word eikōn which means icon, image and likeness. The coin bears the icon, the image and likeness of Caesar. So Jesus is acknowledging that the coin belongs to Caesar. But Jesus's answer goes much deeper than taxes. In another place in scripture, we hear this word image. In Genesis, we hear God created human beings in his image and likeness. And in the Greek translation of Genesis, that same word icon is used, icon.  The coin bear Caesar's image or icon. We bear God's image, his icon.  Maybe that's the deeper question that Jesus is putting before us today.  If the coin bears Caesar's image and therefore belongs to Caesar, then if we bear God's image, to whom do we belong?  We belong to God.

There’s an interesting perspective.  Your image stamped by God identifies you as God’s possession!

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man."

 

 

One of my son Matthew’s favorite hymns as a child, “We Are the Light of the World.”  Here is Chris Brunelle performing.

 

 

Chorus: We Are the light of the world, may our light shine before all, that they may see the good that we do, and give glory to God

 

Vs.1

Blessed are they who are poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of God. Bless us, O Lord, make us poor in spirit

 

Vs. 2

Blessed are they who are meek and humble, they will inherit the earth. Bless us, O Lord, make us meek and humble; bless us, O Lord, our God

 

Vs. 3

Blessed are they who will mourn in sorrow, they will be comforted. Bless us, O Lord, when we share their sorrow; bless us, O Lord, our God

 

Vs. 4

Bless those who hunger and thirst for justice, they will be satisfied. Bless us, O Lord, hear our cry for justice; bless us, O Lord, our God

 

We, whose image is of God, are the light of the world!

 

Sunday Meditation: The Invited and the Chosen

In the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time of Year A, Jesus continues what Dr. Nina Heereman calls the “Temple Discourse.”  I have never heard anyone call this the “Temple Discourse.”  It would amount to when Jesus first enters the Temple in Mt 21:23 through chapter 23.  Jesus leaves the Temple to start chapter 24 which begins the End of Times Discourse.  This makes sense to call this the “Temple Discourse,” but the Gospel of Matthew has been known to be structured around five discourses (Sermon on the Mount, Mt 5 thru 7; Missionary, Mt 10; The Parabolic Discourse, Mt 13; Church Discourse, Mt 18; End of Times, Mt 24 & 25). Despite the logic, no search seems to come up with a Temple Discourse.

Today’s reading is Matthew’s version of the Parable of the Wedding Banquet.  Frankly I have to admit I have never cared for Matthew’s version.  The guest who does not have a wedding garment at the end of the parable is treated unjustly.  He was invited to the banquet and is thrown out because he didn’t wear a wedding garment.  So the casual biblical reader of which I once was one reacts emotionally.  But many parables have a paradoxical moment, a disorienting twist, to make a particular point, and the “unjust” treatment of the guest without a wedding garment is the paradoxical moment.  Don’t think of the guest’s treatment as unjust but that the garment symbolizes something in which the guest needed to have.  What it symbolizes Dr. Heereman points out.  The answer is found in the Book of Revelations, chapter 19.

Then I heard something like the sound of a great multitude or the sound of rushing water or mighty peals of thunder, as they said: “Alleluia!  The Lord has established his reign, [our] God, the almighty.  Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory.  For the wedding day of the Lamb has come, his bride has made herself ready.  She was allowed to wear a bright, clean linen garment.”  (The linen represents the righteous deeds of the holy ones.) (Rev 19:6-8)

I’m not going to embed Dr. Nina’s exegesis but that is most helpful.  Though you may be invited to the Wedding Banquet, but you have to be spotless and worthy.  Dr. Brant Pitre explains it well from my post on this Gospel passage three years ago, and though he comes to the same conclusion as Dr. Nina, he finds a different allusion to the garment, this from Isaiah.

 

I will rejoice heartily in the LORD, my being exults in my God; for he has clothed me with garments of salvation, and wrapped me in a robe of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.  (Is 61:10)

In both allusions what we find is the garment of salvation are your righteous deeds and purity of soul.

 

 

 

Today’s Gospel:

 

Jesus again in reply spoke to the chief priests and elders of the people

in parables, saying,

"The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king

who gave a wedding feast for his son.

He dispatched his servants

to summon the invited guests to the feast,

but they refused to come.

A second time he sent other servants, saying,

'Tell those invited: "Behold, I have prepared my banquet,

my calves and fattened cattle are killed,

and everything is ready; come to the feast."'

Some ignored the invitation and went away,

one to his farm, another to his business.

The rest laid hold of his servants,

mistreated them, and killed them.

The king was enraged and sent his troops,

destroyed those murderers, and burned their city.

Then he said to his servants, 'The feast is ready,

but those who were invited were not worthy to come.

Go out, therefore, into the main roads

and invite to the feast whomever you find.'

The servants went out into the streets

and gathered all they found, bad and good alike,

and the hall was filled with guests.

But when the king came in to meet the guests,

he saw a man there not dressed in a wedding garment.

The king said to him, 'My friend, how is it

that you came in here without a wedding garment?'

But he was reduced to silence.

Then the king said to his attendants, 'Bind his hands and feet,

and cast him into the darkness outside,

where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.'

Many are invited, but few are chosen."

~Mt: 22:1-14

 

For today’s exegetical homily, I want to return to Fr. Geoffrey Plant.  His homilies run long and they disappear off YouTube after a few years.  But he really does a great job, and I will quote the passages that are especially insightful.  I especially found the comparison with Luke’s version very instructive.

 

Fr. Geoffrey:

Today's parable of the wedding banquet has a close parallel in Luke's Gospel.

Comparing the two versions helps us to appreciate the distinctive emphasis of each

evangelist.  So let us now place these two versions of the parable side by side and notice how they differ.

The first difference is the setting. In Matthew, Jesus tells this parable in the

presence of the chief priests and elders in the Temple on the Tuesday of Holy Week.  In Luke, it is told much earlier, while Jesus is still making his way towards

Jerusalem.

The banquet itself is also different. In Matthew, it is a wedding banquet given by a

king in honour of his son.  In Luke, it is simply a great banquet hosted by a wealthy man. He is not a king, and the meal is not connected with a wedding.

In both versions servants are sent out to summon those who have already been

invited. In both cases, however, those invited refuse to come.

The excuses are different. In Matthew, one man goes off to his farm and another to

his business.  In Luke, one man has bought five yoke of oxen and is on his way to try them out.  Another has just been married and says that he is unable to come.

At this point the stories begin to diverge more sharply. In Matthew the king sends

out a second group of servants. Perhaps Matthew intends us to see the first group

as the prophets whom God sent to Israel, and the second group as the apostles

whom Jesus sends out. Luke has no second dispatch of servants.

Matthew also introduces a much darker note. Some of those invited seize the

king's servants, mistreat them and kill them.  The king responds by sending his troops, destroying the murderers and burning their city. Nothing comparable appears in Luke's account.  There the householder becomes angry, but he does not retaliate.

Both stories now move in the same direction. Since those originally invited have

refused to come, the invitation is extended to others. In Matthew, the king orders

his servants to go to the crossroads and invite to the wedding everyone they can

find. In Luke, the servant is sent through the streets and alleys of the town to bring

in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.

In Matthew the wedding hall is filled with guests. In Luke, however, there is still

more room. The servant is therefore sent out a second time, this time to the roads

and hedgerows. He is to urge everyone he meets to come in because the

householder wants to make sure that his house is full. That is where Luke's version

ends.

Matthew, however, continues the story. As the king walks among his guests, he

discovers a man who is not wearing a wedding garment.

 

To a modern reader, a wedding banquet may seem simply an attractive

backdrop for a parable. To a first-century Jew, however, it evoked one of the

Old Testament's great images of God's final salvation. Israel looked forward to

the day when God would establish his kingdom, gather his scattered people,

defeat every enemy and restore creation itself. One of the favourite ways of

describing that future hope was as a great banquet prepared by God himself.

The classic passage is today's first reading from the prophet Isaiah, chapter 25:

"On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples

a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines..."

This is no ordinary meal. It is the celebration of God's final victory. Isaiah continues:

"He will destroy on this mountain

the shroud that is cast over all peoples...

He will swallow up death forever.”

That is an extraordinary statement. The banquet is not simply about

abundance. It is about the defeat of death itself. It is a picture of the new age

when God will wipe away every tear, remove the disgrace of his people and

conquer death forever.

Nor is the banquet reserved for Israel alone. Isaiah speaks of "all peoples".  Centuries before Christ, the prophet already looks forward to a day when the

nations themselves will share in God's salvation.

By the time of Jesus, this vision of the great messianic banquet had become deeply embedded in Jewish hope. The faithful looked forward to the day when they would recline at table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in God's kingdom.

The kingdom was imagined, not as an abstract idea, but as a joyful banquet celebrating God's definitive triumph over evil and death.

 

Matthew's story now presents us with a difficulty—one that has puzzled readers for

centuries. The first part of the story ends quite naturally. The invited guests refuse

to come. The king therefore sends his servants into the streets to gather everyone

they can find. Matthew even emphasises that they brought in "both bad and good,"

and so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

At that point the story appears complete. In fact, that is exactly where Luke's

version ends. Interestingly, the Church's Lectionary provides the option of ending

the Gospel at this point. The shorter form concludes with the banquet hall filled

with guests and omits the episode of the wedding garment altogether.

Matthew, however, continues. As the king walks through the banquet hall, he

notices one guest who is not wearing a wedding garment. He asks him, "Friend,

how did you get in here without a wedding garment?" The man is speechless.

The king orders him to be bound hand and foot and thrown into the outer darkness.

This is the only biblical passage I can remember my late father discussing with me.

He was struck by what seemed an obvious injustice. The guests had only just been

gathered in from the streets. How could one of them be condemned for not wearing

a wedding garment? It is a question that has stayed with me ever since.

After all, these guests had not planned to attend a royal wedding. They had been

going about their ordinary business when, quite unexpectedly, the king's servants

summoned them to the banquet. Some would have been labourers, others

beggars, others travellers. Was the king really expecting every citizen to carry

around a set of wedding garments on the off chance that they might one day

receive an invitation to a royal wedding?

Many scholars have suggested that Matthew has stitched together two originally

independent stories, and I find that suggestion persuasive. The first ends quite

naturally with the banquet hall being filled by those gathered from the highways and

byways. Matthew, however, also seems to have known another story about a guest

who attended a wedding banquet without the proper attire. Because both centred

on a banquet, he may have combined them into a single narrative.

 

Matthew would probably say to us, however, "Don't become so preoccupied with

the join that you miss the point of the second story." So what does he want to

teach us? The first thing to notice is that he says remarkably little about the

wedding garment itself. Instead, he draws our attention to the man's response—

or rather, to his lack of response.

"The man was silent." He does not protest that he has been treated unfairly. He

does not explain that he had been summoned from the streets without warning.

He offers no excuse, no defence, no justification.

William Bausch draws attention to this striking detail: "He was silent, notice. He

had not one word to say in his own defence, as surely he would have if he were

unjustly accused... He had nothing to say: no excuse, no explanation, no

protest... His silence branded him as guilty beyond the shadow of a doubt.” That

silence is the key to the story.

Donald Senior suggests that the soiled garment symbolises "a life that has

undergone no basic change, a life that has not produced fruits worthy of

repentance." In other words, the problem is not the clothing itself. The clothing

symbolises a life that has accepted the invitation but has refused to be

transformed by it.

Tom Wright brings the lesson into our own day: "We would prefer to hear a nice

story about God throwing the party open to everyone. We want—as people now

fashionably say—to be 'inclusive', to let everyone in. We don't want to know

about judgment on the wicked, or about demanding standards of holiness, or

about weeping and gnashing of teeth."

That observation strikes at the heart of the parable. We rightly rejoice that God's

invitation is extended to everyone. Matthew himself tells us that the king's

servants gathered "both bad and good." No one earns an invitation to the

banquet. But accepting the invitation is not the end of the story. It is the

beginning of a new way of life. What happens when someone finally stands

before God, looking back over a lifetime?

Now listen to how Fr. Geoffrey ties this with the ending of Graham Greene’s novel, The Power and the Glory.  You can find my posts on Greene’s novel here. 

For the pastoral homily I’m going to turn Fr. Peter Marselek of SOLT.

 

Fr. Peter:

There is a great wedding feast, but one individual arrives without a wedding garment. He is dressed incompatibly with the banquet and is therefore removed.  The wedding banquet represents heaven, communion with the most holy trinity, with God who is love itself.  St. Gregory the Great therefore identifies the wedding garment as charity. To be in God's presence means being able to participate in his love. Both receiving that love and sharing in it. This is why the wedding garment is so important.  Heaven is not simply a place to which we are admitted. [music] It is a life in which we participate. The very life and love of God. God therefore desires to prepare and transform our hearts now for the fullness of his presence in eternity. Today's gospel tells us that God invites everyone to salvation. The servants are sent out to gather everyone they can find, bad and good alike. God's invitation is extraordinarily generous.  But accepting the invitation is only the beginning. We must also allow his grace to transform us. The wedding garment then isn't an arbitrary condition for entering heaven. It represents our capacity to participate in heaven. Faith opens us to God's saving grace, but that grace must bear fruit in charity. Pope Benedict the 16th beautifully describes this garment as being woven on two looms, love of God and love of neighbor.

 

I like both popes identification of the symbolism: Pope St. Gregory’s the garment being charity and Pope Benedict XVI’s woven on the threads of love of God and love of neighbor.  It’s a reminder we should always be wearing this garment.

 

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “Many are invited, but few are chosen."

 

 

 

“Lead Me, Lord is a beautiful hymn for this Sunday.

 

 

Blessed are the poor in spirit, longing for their Lord,

for God’s coming kingdom shall be theirs.

Blessed are the sorrowing, for they shall be consoled,

and the meek shall come to rule the world.

 

Refrain:

 

Lead me, Lord, lead me, Lord,

by the light of truth

to seek and to find the narrow way.

Be my way; be my truth;

be my life, my Lord, and lead me, Lord, today.

 

Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be theirs,

and the pure in heart shall see their God.

Blest are they whose hunger only holiness can fill,

for I say they shall be satisfied.

 

Lead me, Lord, by the light of truth!