Caesar, Constantine, and the Church

In the city of York in England, there is a beautiful cathedral called “Yorkminster”. Filled with stained glass, medieval statues, a magnificent organ, and even a modern era astronomical clock, Yorkminster richly deserves its reputation as one of the greatest cathedrals of Northern Europe. Outside on the cathedral grounds, one encounters a statue of a Roman general, seated on a chair with sword in hand, staring stonily at passerby. The inscription on the statue’s base reads “Constantine the Great”. And when I saw this statue of Constantine in the shadow of the great cathedral, I made the sign of the cross with my two fingers, as if warding off evil.

Why did I do this? Why did I insist on Kerry taking pictures of me doing this for my collection of silly things I have done on vacation?

Local legend holds that on this spot, the same place that Yorkminster was later built, in the year 306 CE, the Roman general Constantine was proclaimed emperor while on military maneuvers in what the Roman empire called their lands in “Britainnia”. Through much skill, guile, politicking, and military strength, Constantine solidified his powerbase and ruled as Emperor of the Roman Empire for many years.

One of the unique elements of Constantine’s reign was his support of Christianity. Under Constantine, Christianity began enjoying its first years without significant persecution by the Roman Empire. Since the days of Jesus and the earliest Christians, Rome looked at Christianity as an upstart religion, barely tolerated, if that. Constantine’s father raised Constantine with a somewhat tolerant attitude to Christianity, however, by the early years of the third century, the Roman emperors placed the churches under the greatest of persecutions.

According to legend, when Constantine prepared to go into a decisive battle in 312 CE, a battle with a foe challenging his right to be emperor, a vision of the cross is said to have appeared to him. Ancient historian Eusebius writes that Constantine “saw with his own eyes in the heavens a trophy of the cross arising from the light of the sun, carrying the message, ‘Conquer by this’”. Constantine had the cross symbol placed on the shields of his soldier. Upon his victory, Constantine began declaring increased toleration of Christians and began increasing the influence of the Church in his court. Nearing the end of the fourth century, Emperor Theodosius made Christianity the official religion of the Empire. Hence, the Holy Roman Empire began to take shape, and the Church found itself enjoying freedom, authority, and power in ways previously unknown.

Again, why did I find myself, a Christian minister, making the sign of the cross as to ward off evil to Constantine’s statue in the shadow of a church?

Under Constantine, the faith was able to spread more rapidly, the churches able to worship more freely, and “the” Church able to increase in power and authority. Under Constantine, Christianity experienced a great deal of theological refinement, a miracle considering factions bickered endlessly over what constituted “orthodoxy” and “heresy”. The major theological creed of this era, the Nicene Creed, resulted by an ecumenical council of the Church called by Constantine. Constantine sounds “good” for the Church.

The shadow side of Constantine’s legacy was the gradual drift in the Church to become myopic to its New Testament values and more entwined into the affairs of state. Baptist scholar Lee Camp claims that the Church spent the next thousand plus years developing a “Constantinian cataract” that precluded the Church from seeing more clearly its power, authority, and voice. Camp observes by the time the fourth century closed, “there arose “Christendom”—an alliance of church and empire. The Christian church had arrived, or so it appeared.” (Camp, p.22) Or, if you will, Constantinian Christianity began overshadowing the church.

Reading the history of Christianity, one can argue that the Church had some pathways opened up to it that helped the faith fulfill Jesus’ great commission to go out to the whole world, making disciples in his name. Others argue that imperial patronage may sound good, but it spread the faith more by power and might than the evangelism and mission that Jesus calls us to do in His name. In effect, the Roman empire created toleration for the Church, but in doing so, the ways of the empire began to make the Church more attuned to the kingdoms of the here and now and less aligned to the kingdom Jesus said to seek first, the Kingdom or Reign of God.

Admittedly, when we read this passage, many of us usually hear the passage about “render unto Caesar and render unto God” as a general proof for why we should keep church and state separate. Baptists aware of their Baptist history and heritage regarding the maintenance of a hedge between religion and government usually echo a hearty AMEN! The Gospel text, however, delves deeper than policies and practices and asks us to declare where our final loyalty is to be found. Unto whom do we give our very selves?

The gospel text begins with a very frank observation: the Pharisees, joined by the Herodians, come to Jesus with every intent on ensnaring him into saying something that they could use to be rid of him. In today’s media terms, they were looking for the “gotcha!” moment of catching him “off script” with some sort of comment that would be on Youtube.com within minutes and watched by millions within hours. In their day, these folks were looking for an imprecise answer that would cause Jesus no end of religious criticism and hopefully even the wrath of the local Roman authorities.

Like today, government imposed taxes were a hot button issue. You could say that the person living under Roman rule wanted to know how these taxes affected Joe the Aqueduct Builder. Of course, this is presuming that our twenty-first century understandings match up to first century circumstances. Despite what you think of the IRS around April 15^th each year, our understanding of being citizens of our nation and therefore being under the tax code and laws of the day is different than the New Testament’s context. Here, everyone involved in this question posed to Jesus understands that the Roman taxes are part of the Roman foot on your neck. Taxes to the emperor are one part of the many ways that Rome ensures you remember who conquered and controls you. Nobody wanted the Romans around, let alone to pay taxes to them, but at the same time, there were some who took advantage of the political climate of the day. Hence, the Pharisees and the Herodians are here with their question, hoping that Jesus will stumble well enough to get rid of this Galilean.

Jesus calls these two groups “hypocrites”, a term that ancient Greeks called those who hide their intents behind deception. He hears their attempt at piety as their being pious, knowing full well that he is not considered a teacher of the truth or a righteous person. The Pharisees practice a stringent religion, yet they give little evidence to God’s mercy. The Herodians spend most of their time supporting the corrupt system of the Herodian court. So, instead taking the bait, Jesus turns the tables on them, asking for a coin.

A coin does not sound like much, yet this coin matters a great deal. A denarius is a Roman coin, and upon this coin is the emperor’s image, bearing the inscription “Tiberius Caesar, august Son of the divine Augustus, high priest”. This coin is a product of the Roman way of dominance, a coin that Jesus artfully suggests is one that is Caesar’s property, but not to be confused with matters pertaining to God. In the familiar refrain of the King James’ translation “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s”, Jesus dodges provoking the Romans. Give to Caesar what is the Roman empire, but never give anything that is God’s to the Romans. Thus, no matter how “under the thumb of Rome” you feel, Jesus instructs that Rome will not have the last word. You can have that coin, use it, even pay taxes with it, but at the end of the day, it is up to you to decide who is the “Son of the divine”.

The Herodians need to be highlighted, as this is the only time they appear in the Gospels. The Herodians keep to the interests of the Herodian court, ruled over by successive kings. Matthew’s gospel tells of two kings named Herod who commit atrocious acts: the first Herod sends the magi to learn of this “new king” said to have been born in Bethlehem, so jealous that the entire city of Jerusalem quivers at what the king will do. This Herod slaughters the innocents to ensure that he is without challenge. (Thankfully, the Holy Family has made for Egypt by then!) The second Herod kills John the Baptist, putting the prophet’s head on a platter. The Herodians work to support this reign of the Herodians, and their loyalty to Herod is also a loyalty to Rome. They cannot see beyond the partisan politics of their day, supporting regimes that dominate and terrorize to keep control. The Herodians were particularly indicted by Jesus’ words.

Where do our loyalties lie? I do not believe that this passage asks us to be removed from the politics of the day. Christians can be Republicans, Democrats, third-party supporters, or independents. Nonetheless, liberals, conservatives, and centrists alike have to keep objectivity and realize that sometimes their ways need correction and yes, even recantation.  Espeically in the American political context, Christians of varying political interest also have to admit there is more than one way to be a Christian engaged in politics and remember that too much loyalty starts us on a path toward modern day Pharisiasm and worse, our own brand of Herodianism.

The earliest disciples would have been grateful to have less harassment from Rome, but they were not a people given over to thinking that a human-crafted way of life like an empire was on the same wavelength as the teachings of Jesus. The gospel message is political: it demands justice for those are being treated unjustly, food for those who hunger, mercy for those in crisis, and compassion for those in need. Any person can be part of fulfilling the gospel, whether they are on the right, the left, somewhere in between, or who choose not to be part of the labels that we take up for ourselves or give to others. Jesus asks us, however, to choose carefully. In being a citizen, where do we ultimately find our values and identity? Under whose kingdom and reign do we find our way of life?