Toy Story, Caesar, and What Belongs to God

Toy Story, Caesar, and What Belongs to God
Pastor Cogan

Matthew 22:15-22

Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said. So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying,

“Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one, for you do not regard people with partiality.

Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?”

But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin used for the tax.”

And they brought him a denarius. Then he said to them, “Whose head is this and whose title?” They answered, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.”

When they heard this, they were amazed, and they left him and went away.


We are in that season again, and I don’t mean fall. It is election season, as you must be aware. The season when you can't turn on the TV without getting bombarded with campaign ads; where news feeds are filled with the recap of the latest debate, and video clips of the biggest gotcha moments go viral.

I’ve heard again how this is the most important election of my lifetime, just like the one two years ago and the one before that. The attacks are brutal. Things feel rather intense. This past week while home with two sick kids, I got a break from all that as we watched the latest toy story.

Toy Story has been popular around here this year, with our VBS theme being Toy Story. And for good reason. It is a fantastic series!

For more than three decades, Toy Story has made little kids laugh, young adults cry (myself included), and everyone reminisce about their toys and childhood. There are countless themes and plot lines worthy of sermon series, but perhaps none more than belonging and identity - present in every movie including the newest.

I won't spoil it if you haven't seen it, but the latest toy story takes on tech and the questions of screens. But it also takes on the question of how we act and what we do because of our belonging to someone or something. There is a scene where the Buzz Lightyear talks to a bunch of new, updated tech driven buzz lightyears wondering what their purpose is. Buzz tells them “your toys and your job is to make kids happy.” And throughout the movie, all the toys act together in ways they believe best serve their owner.

Which makes sense; these toys bear the names, the mark of their owner or owner(s). Jessie, the cowgirl and main character in this newest addition, is constantly looking at the name under her boot and behind her chaps. She is moved by that mark to do what is best for her owner, which in this movie is to connect her with other kids for friendship and play.

Toy Story is a world where one's identity and value and purpose is derived from the love of the one who calls them their own. That belonging shapes both who they understand themselves to be and how they act because of it. Belonging and identity are also at the heart of what Jesus is after in his response to today's tricky question.

Things were getting rather intense for Jesus, too. Over the past couple of days, Jesus has made a lot of people really mad. He threw out the temple money changers - people who extorted the poor through fees and inflated prices. Then, he told a number of parables aimed at the temple leaders and religious authorities.

Today, those leaders, the Pharisees, paired up with the group that was their enemy, the Herodians, because, as the saying goes, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”.

These groups represented two very different parties. The Pharisees were the religious leaders who opposed Caesar. The Herodians were political leaders who favored him and his Roman agenda. The two parties could not get along except for their opposition to this rebel rousing rabbi.

So, after their compliment that drips with sarcasm, the elephants and donkeys, I mean Pharisees and Herodians, lay their trap: Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not? Its hard for us to appreciate how good of a trap this is.

If Jesus says yes, he sides with the herodians who like the tax because it provides roads, sanitation, and clean water. That also means he sides against not only the Pharisees, but the crowd around him who hate the tax, because it is a reminder of their oppression living under Roman rule. The crowd would turn on him for sure. But if he says no, and sides with the Pharisees, the Herodians can report him for sedition and treason, punishable by death.

Talk about a gotcha moment.

That is until Jesus gives his response: Render, give back, to Caesar the things that are Caesar and to God the things that are God’s. It’s the second part of that sentence that’s so brilliant and maddening. The coin bears the image of Caesar and is marked with his name, his opponents have already told everyone that.

What Jesus doesn’t ask and leaves for his opponents and for you and I to ask and answer ourselves is what, or really who, bears the image of God? Under whose proverbial boot is God’s name written? And what do they give back to God?

We belong to God. You and me and all people are made in the image of God, as Genesis tells us. And even more so as Christians, as little Christ’s, it’s as if at baptism, Jesus indelibly writes his name on your forehead. So when Jesus says to give back to God the things that are God’s, he is talking about me and you. That belonging shapes our identity and informs how we act in the world.

Like the toys in Toy Story, they did not act to earn their belonging. Andy and Bonnie love their toys because they are theirs! And because they are loved, the toys want to do all they can to make the person they belong to happy.

In the same way, we did nothing to belong to God. God simply made us God’s own. Which means you can’t belong to a political party or a president no matter what they say, what demands they make, or what identity they try to give you. Because you have already been claimed. And nothing and no one can take that mark away from you. That belonging and love inspires what we do in the world, including how we render to Caesar the things that are Caesars.

Jesus is clear, we do owe things to Caesar and Rome. In our day, that means we pay our taxes, we vote, we uphold just laws, we run for office. Belonging to God doesn't free us from our responsibilities to the world or to our country. It shapes how we fulfill them. You see we do all of those things (pay taxes, obey laws, vote, serve jury duty), never out of your allegiance to Caesar, or in hopes of one party winning, and especially not for ourselves; but only ever for your neighbor.

For in serving our neighbor, we serve God, to whom we belong. God does not need your taxes or your vote or any other civic action, but your neighbor does.

Before any election, the question to ask ourselves is not what party or candidate do I want to win but who will serve my neighbor best? All your neighbors, but especially your hungry neighbors, thirsty neighbors, unhoused neighbors, immigrant neighbors, your sick neighbors.

Over the next two weeks, Rome will tell you to act, vote, and believe this way or else: or else you aren’t American, or else democracy will be over, or else the other guys will win and the whole thing will go to hell.

Caesar will demand your loyalty and your allegiance. But what Caesar cannot tell us is who we are and whose we are. For you belong to God. Before you are a republican or democrat, a progressive or conservative, a pharisee or herodian, you are a child of God.

That belonging inspires how we live in the world. Do people see the family resemblance by how we act, what we say, how we welcome, and how we serve our neighbor?

For what we do to our neighbors, we do to God. Sometimes we get that right, sometimes we don’t.

Regardless, God’s mark is still there.

Amen.

Something Old, Something New

Something Old, Something New
Pastor Mark Havel

Matthew 22:1-14

Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’

But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”


So, I spent a couple of days – a week or so ago – in Columbus, Ohio, at Trinity Lutheran Seminary, from whence I graduated 25 years ago, and I got to listen to some lectures from my favorite professor and theologian from those days, Mark Allan Powell. As expected, I learned a lot from him over the course of three lectures in two days’ time, and I look forward to sharing some of that with you very deliberately sometime down the road.

But, in addition to the specifics of what he shared, I came away feeling encouraged and emboldened to get a little creative with my scriptural interpretation, preaching, and teaching. Which is to say, I found myself wrestling with this parable in a new way that may or may not pass muster with smarter people than me – which is something my professor Mark Allan Powell has done his entire career as a theologian.

Let me be very clear, none of what I’m about to share is Mark Allan Powell material. I don’t want to get him in trouble. And I can’t imagine I’m the first person to interpret this passage the way I’m about to, but this is all me.

Because I wondered differently about Jesus’ parable today than I ever have before: about how harsh it sounds … about the weeping and gnashing of teeth … about the outer darkness … about how unfair it is that that poor guy would be invited to the party, accept the invitation at the very last minute and, just because he didn’t have the right robe to wear, got punished so brutally.

This is so hard for me – and maybe it is for you, too – because the context and characters of the parable have always been the following:

The king is God and the wedding banquet is the Kingdom of Heaven.

The first round of those invited to the party represent the good, faithful, Jews and Jewish leaders of Jesus’ day – those who rejected and questioned him, like the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees and the like. They are the ones in the parable who ignore the invitation and go away – to their farm or to their business. And they’re the ones who mistreated and killed the ones who extended the invitation, in the first place.

The second round of invitees – the B-list, if you will – who got invited to the party late to fill the seats, eat the food, and make the king happy – those were the followers of Jesus, the peasants, his disciples, his family and friends; and by extension, they represent US – you and me – the outsiders to the Jewish elite; those not part of the traditional, historically ‘chosen ones’ of the house of Israel. They are – WE ARE – the ones who should be grateful to have received the invitation, even if only by way of the B-list. They are – WE ARE – the ones who should respond to such an invitation and feast with great joy, deep gratitude, and faithful discipleship.

And that sad sack who gets the boot – the guy who shows up without the proper attire – who didn’t get the memo about the dress code represents one of US, too – you or I – well-intended, but unprepared; called and invited, but not up to the challenge; not faithful enough; not invested enough; not good enough; and therefore, sadly, worthy of eternal punishment and hellfire; outer darkness, weeping, and gnashing of teeth.

This is a rough take, right? We aren’t used to seeing this side of Jesus … and I don’t like it, to be honest … the one where he preaches about and promises “the outer darkness” and the “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” It’s black and white and harsh. It’s utterly lacking in grace, mercy, and the love we long for – and which is usually easier to find in his preaching and teaching, to be honest.

But, again, that’s the more popular interpretation and understanding of this parable, as far as I know. And it’s very likely accurate and true to Jesus’ intentions in many ways. After all, it’s not the first or only time Jesus lays out some high expectations for his followers. Remember, or look up, the very popular Matthew 25 where we hear that parable about the sheep and the goats – just three chapters after this one – where some believers are “sheep,” blessed and chosen to sit at the right hand of God, while some are deemed “goats,” damned and doomed to the same eternal fire reserved for the devil and his angels.

Again, I don’t love that. And I don’t want to steal ALL of Jesus’ thunder, here. I think we’re meant to hear Jesus get serious from time to time; and feel convicted; and think hard about our invitation to follow his ways. But these are parables, too, remember. Nothing more, nothing less. And it’s okay to recognize that Jesus gets serious and hyperbolic when he wants our attention. So he goes hard with the outer darkness, the weeping, and the gnashing of teeth, from time to time – and often in Matthew’s Gospel.

But I wonder if there’s another way – an additional take on this parable of the wedding banquet, the late comers, and the sad sack who gets the boot.

What if most of it is as expected and as I’ve already explained?

The king is God. The wedding banquet is the Kingdom of Heaven

The first round of those invited to the party still represent the good, faithful, Jews and Jewish leaders of Jesus’ day – those who rejected and questioned him, like the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees and the like, who wanted nothing to do with the party of grace he promised.

And what if the second round of invitees is still you and me – the B-listers who aren’t part of the Jewish inner circle of God’s chosen ones, but who are graciously welcomed in, fed, nourished, and showered with grace, nonetheless.

BUT, what if the sad sack who gets the boot … the one who shows up without the right clothes on … ISN’T one of us? What if that’s Jesus, the Son, himself, who the king questions, for all the guests in that packed wedding hall to see and to hear: “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” “Are you telling me none of these people – not one of my other guests – cared enough to see that you were clothed, and welcomed, and had what you needed to enjoy the feast with the rest of them?”

And what if, just like Jesus, before Pilate at his crucifixion, this guy was speechless; uncomplaining; silent, like a sheep before its shearers – as the prophet predicted. And what if we’re supposed to see him, as Jesus, bound, and cast into the outer darkness of his crucifixion with all of its weeping, gnashing of teeth, whips, thorns, nails, and more?

And what if we’re supposed to look at ourselves and at each other, with cups overflowing, with full plates, full bellies, heads and hearts full of forgiveness and abundance none of us has earned, and wonder how we let that happen?

What if the message of this wedding banquet parable is much like that one about the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25: whenever you did it to one of the least of these – fed the hungry, healed the sick, visited the prisoner, clothed the naked – you did it to me? And whenever you DID NOT do it to one of the least of these, you didn’t do it for me, either.

And what if, to be called is one thing … to get the invitation, to show up to the party, to celebrate the grace and mercy and love that God offers us all – A listers and B listers, alike?

And what if to be chosen is something altogether more? What if that means to look around at who’s nearby; to be sure our neighbor and fellow wedding guests have clothes and food and healthcare and equal rights and fair pay and a safe place to sleep and aren’t deported on sight or executed on a livestream or bombed into oblivion?

And what if we are called to be convicted by the King’s question – “How did this happen?” – as we watch our Savior get the boot, take the heat, and die on the cross – for our sake – until we get it right?

Amen