Lk 20:20-26
4 July 2010
“Independence Day Theological Reflections of One American”
The last time July 4th fell on a Sunday was six years ago. (I’ve discovered that Independence Day falls on Sunday about one-seventh of the time!) I chose for my sermon text the passage in Luke on Christ and Caesar. After revisiting what I said back then, I decided to keep some of the parts that still seem relevant for me.
The wording of my sermon title has been carefully chosen. First of all, “Independence Day.” Besides it being today, it is the one day of the year in which we’re especially called to be grateful for the gift of nation, for the gift of freedom.
Then there’s the word “theological.” That speaks to questions like: how is God involved in it? Where is God to be found? And they are “reflections.” I am speaking from my own experience.
And indeed, this is the viewpoint of “one” American. I can only speak for myself. But though I am one, I am an “American.” In some ways, I feel like I could be nothing but an American. Having been adopted as an infant, I don’t know who my genetic ancestors are.
In a similar way, America as a nation has no clear understanding of its genetic ancestry. After all, what does an American look like? What does an American sound like? Our political history mainly ties us to England, but as a whole, Americans look to all parts of the world, not to mention those who were here before the Europeans ever showed up.
So there’s that. But I do have a better reason for saying that “I feel like I could be nothing but an American.” It’s because I love my country. I love America.
For the first ten years of my life, we were a military family. My dad was posted to various naval bases around the country, from coast to coast to coast. That meant a good deal of moving around. That alone guaranteed that I saw plenty of America.
But like most of
us, whether or not we’re from a military background, I was taught at an early
age that God has blessed America. To me,
that’s always been clear. However, my
young mind—not so good with nuance—made the assumption that since God had
blessed America, we were better than
people from other countries! (I’ve since
learned that Banu was raised with a similar belief about Turkey—that’s there’s
nothing more glorious than being a Turk!)
Something, in my opinion, that testifies to America’s being blessed is the fact that we’ve never had to build the equivalent of the Berlin Wall. We’ve never had a problem with too many people leaving the country. Instead, our challenge has been the inflow of population—from all over the globe.
There is within the spirit of America a commitment, a conviction, that all people should be free. There’s a conviction that people have human rights, that they shouldn’t be tortured, that the government shouldn’t tell them how to think, that they are truly “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” (I stole that last part from the Declaration of Independence!) That’s why it’s a shame when we, as a country, don’t live up to those convictions.
I realize that many say faith and politics should be kept separate. When it comes to airing one’s political opinions—such as telling people who to vote for—I would agree. As Christians, we need to learn to think theologically, not just politically. That’s what the New Testament church does.
The gospel is inherently political; it’s inescapable. Words like “Lord” and “Savior,” in the first
century, are political terms. They
aren’t spiritual in the sense of being disconnected from everyday, real life. The terms “Lord” (kurio", kurios) and “Savior” (swthr,
sōtēr) are titles claimed
by the emperors: Nero and Domitian are
especially insistent about it.
When the early Christians call Jesus “Lord
and Savior,” they’re well aware of what they’re doing. For them, it isn’t an empty phrase. They are saying “no” to the arrogance of
empire.
In the gospel of
Luke, Jesus says to “give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and
to God the things that are God’s” (v. 25).
Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and unto God that which is
God’s. I wonder, what does that mean for
us, on our nation’s 234th birthday?
We see the scribes and chief priests sending representatives to Jesus, but it’s clear that they aren’t doing so in good faith. The scripture calls them “spies who pretended to be honest.” Their job isn’t to pursue meaningful dialogue; their job is “to trap him by what he” says, so that they can hand him over to the Romans (v. 20). They aren’t there to listen; they just hope he screws up!
The backdrop of our story is the payment of taxes to the Roman authorities. The enemies of Jesus have racked their brains, trying to come up with some way to get rid of this guy. Somebody has one of those “aha!” moments, and says, “Here’s the plan!” If Jesus says that it’s okay to pay taxes to the empire, he’ll stir up the Jewish revolutionaries, the violent patriots known as the Zealots. But if he says, “no,” the Roman authorities will step in and take care of him.
The folks trying to trick Jesus really haven’t done their homework, or they might have guessed that their plan won’t work. Jesus is proactive, not reactive, about the job of reconciliation. He is intentional. Among his disciples he’s included Simon the Zealot, a Jewish revolutionary. He’s included Matthew the tax collector, a collaborator with the Romans. Not exactly birds of a feather!
In answering the question about paying taxes to Caesar, Jesus elevates the discussion. He gets to the heart of the matter. He gives the perfect answer to their question, one that invites them to challenge their assumptions.
Ten days after the 9-11 attacks, a well-known person spoke of his own assumptions that needed to be challenged. I’m referring to the guy who is now governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger. He spoke of growing up in the scarcity of postwar Austria and of his dream of going to America. He arrived in 1968 with $20 in his pocket, and within six months starred in his first movie, the classic work of art, Hercules in New York.
He said, “I called all my friends back in Europe and said: ‘It’s true! You can do anything in this country! Come over here! It’s everything you imagine—and more!’”[1]
Arnold spoke of 1989, when President George H. W. Bush named him the Chair of the President’s Council on Physical Fitness. He traveled all over the US, promoting fitness programs in schools. His idea was that if a poor farm kid from Europe could make it in America, anybody could. Encountering the poverty of American cities forced him to challenge his assumptions. He said he used to go around saying, “Everybody should pull himself up by his own bootstraps—just like I did!” But he changed that, and said, “What I learned about this country is this: Not everybody has boots.”
Arnold finished by saying that “it’s not just the bodybuilding and the business and the box office for me anymore. Helping the kids who need help is the most important goal I have.
“This is what it means for me to be an American. Maybe that’s what it could mean for you, too! No matter how much success you have, you can be more successful by reaching out to someone who needs you.”[2]
We are called, both as Americans and especially as Americans of faith, to expand our vision, to look outward, to be proactive about reconciliation—to take the first step in peacemaking. We’re called “to form a more perfect union.” (Okay, I stole that from the preamble to the Constitution!)
Now, to recall my question from a few moments ago, how do we as Americans of faith live on this day, the 234th birthday of our country? There is a difference between being an American and an American of faith, just as there’s a difference between Caesar and God.
As Americans who belong to the body of Christ, we are called to actively celebrate the good and to challenge the injustices, not only in our country, but in the world. To say that each person is born with inalienable rights means respecting and honoring those who are different from us, in whatever way.
It also means not denying our identity in Jesus Christ. It’s easier than we think to conceal the cross behind the flag. Remember, there is a difference between Christ and Caesar! We mustn’t confuse the two as we rightfully celebrate, as we seek to be grateful to God for the gift of nation.
May we live lives that are authentically Christian on this Independence Day. May Jesus Christ be praised in America and throughout the world.