I pledge allegiance to....?

     On the Emmy-winning comedy 30 Rock, writer and actor Tina Fey leads a cast of quirky actors in that time honored of settings: the workplace comedy.  

            Among the actors is Alec Baldwin who plays a corporate executive whose allegiance to the Republican party is beyond question.  In one episode, his character Jack Donaghy is trying to plan a GOP fund-raiser and he asks an office underling Kenneth how he plans to vote in the next election.

            Kenneth is a dear, sweet innocent from somewhere in the Deep South. He moved to New York City to fulfill his life’s dream of being an NBC page, in other words, a person who gives tours, does hours of menial work and errands, and is somewhat unappreciated by most everybody around the office.  (Again, Kenneth feels like he is living his dream and takes this all in with a goofy smile and stars in his eyes.  The viewer wonders if Kenneth hit his head when he fell off the turnip truck….)

            Kenneth considers his boss’ question, and very politely responds that he does not vote Republican or Democrat.  “That would be choosing,” Kenneth drawls, “and ‘choosing’ is a sin.”  (Again, Kenneth seems to live in his own little world, religion included.)  Kenneth claims that when he votes, “I write in the Lord’s name.”

            This story of “rendering unto Caeasar and rendering unto God” prompts American Christians to read the story through the lens of our own history of the separation of church and state.  A great speech with this reading of the text in mind was given by Dr. James M. Dunn, a long-time advocate for church/state separation and emeritus director of the Baptist Joint Committee on Religious Liberty.   With a sly wink, he recast the spectacle of the Pharisees and the Herodians coming up to Jesus together as unlikely a sight as “Jesse Jackson and Jesse Helms, skipping down the lane, holding hands.”  (And now that analogy’s a bit dated, so imagine the same scene, with Bernie Sanders and John McCain.)

            Two groups of rival ideologies being seen together, working together, and speaking with the same question in mind drives this text.  It is high comedy to see these two groups joined together, opposing forces drawn together.  They go through the respectful gestures and the polite, ingratiating words of high praise about Jesus and his teachings.  (Again, huh? All this praise, from these guys?) 

            You know something’s not quite right. 

            What is played as innocence is really guile at its worst.  In the gospels, the Pharisees are portrayed differently, sometimes appearing to be marginally friendly to Jesus and in other narratives, quite hostile.  The Herodians are a group you don’t hear much about, as they do not figure much in the gospel narratives.  The group was political in nature, closely aligned with the court of Herod.  Both have religious and political views far more tied into the establishment of King and Temple alike.  And like anyone vested in the royal court or the religious powerbase, you kept Rome happy.  After all, when Rome’s might is felt all around you (centurions and soldiers with swords alike), you keep to the party line.

            Jesus looks at the two groups before him, seeing through their pretense and names them as hypocrites.

            The word “hypocrite” is tossed around in our everyday language as one who says one thing, yet believes or lives another way altogether.   The phrase comes from the Greek theatre for an actor taking on a role, pretending or “play acting”.  Here, Jesus sees their sincerity as insincere, their praise-laden words not worth much.  They are acting a part that does not reflect reality.  It’s a play and a bad one at that!

The question posed by the Pharisees and Herodians is meant to ensnare Jesus, not only in public but also in politics.  Asking if it is lawful to pay taxes to the emperor was their attempt to lure Jesus down a road with nothing good waiting for him. If he answered “no”, Jesus could be turned in for seditious talk.  If he answered “yes”, Jesus would lose the crowd’s interest, as nobody really wanted to pay taxes to the Emperor and who listens to a collaborator, really? 

Anybody in Jesus’ day knew the score.  “Tax revolts” happened in the years before and after Jesus’ lifetime, as a few populist firebrands would whip up the people’s irritation and resentment and lead some sort of protest against Rome.  Looking at the headlines, “Occupy Wall Street” is a fairly tame modern comparison, as such a movement today pales in consideration to these revolts with stories of serious violence and bloodshed.  When you turn on Rome, this Empire strikes back.

Jesus is at his most artful when under criticism.  He asks for the coin used for the Roman tax, so they produce a denarius. On one hand, there’s nothing that unique about the coin.  It’s familiar from day-to-day life, the coin used to conduct business as a person living under Empire.  The denarius represented the average earning for one day’s wages.

The coin is issued by Rome, and indeed bears the marks of the Empire’s status.  On this coin, you find the head of the Emperor/Caesar and inscribed with claims to the Caesar’s divinity and Rome’s position that it brings “pax” or “peace” to its peoples.  As Bill Herzog points out, when a populace has been conquered by Rome, the denarius is soon to follow. (Jesus, Justice and the Reign of God, p. 228) 

To hold such a coin was to accept its value given by Rome, and in turn, to accept the values of Rome.  If the Pharisees believed so ardently and the Herodians supported the dynasty of Herod, why did they accept so blithely the Roman Empire whose core beliefs centered on the sole divinity of the Caesar and the absolute power of Rome? 

The coin they used as a lure for Jesus is indeed Caesar’s property, as Jesus points out.  If you are to owe something to Caesar, pay what is due, yet do not confuse Caesar’s taxation and demands on your life with those made by God.  Jesus calls the bluff of these groups claiming that their use of the Emperor’s might and demands furthered the Empire’s claim over the religious and political establishment.  Despite crown and title, Herod was a puppet.  Despite claims to religious authority, the Pharisees had gotten quite comfortable building their powerbase with little interest in upsetting Rome’s arrogant claims over Israel. 

Now you might be wondering what this text has to do with a service filled with the celebration of baptism and the welcoming of a new member to the congregation.   Is there a connection or are we hearing a gospel text that is out of place for a day when we run up our water bill for holy purposes?

Upon discovering the gospel text suggested for today, I pondered this story and thought it made great sense to be heard on a day when we baptize.  The ritual of baptism has followed after a time of exploration, as I have met with Christopher to talk about faith and as he has engaged in his own conversations at home with parents and grandparents and as he has read books on basic Christian beliefs and the particular history of those peculiar people called Baptists. 

What better word for this day of celebrating one’s profession of faith in Christ as Lord than this gospel story of people living in the midst of the world, called to claim (without apology or reticence) Jesus as the Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior of the world.  Baptists further this by emphasizing this boldness by insisting on saying that Jesus is our personal Lord and Savior, a phrase that we may have let just become part of the theological woodwork but is outright subversive if we let these words ring true in our hearts.

On this day, we remember why following Jesus is not for the faint of heart.  We are claiming a kingdom/reign/Empire of heaven rising above any claim laid upon us by the political, economic or social forces that would prefer our unquestioning allegiance, whether in our political assent to the ways of kings and Presidents, the corporations who enjoy our dollars yet not any hint of something that might threaten profit margin, or the constant demands of work, school or even “steeple” that might say leave the claims of Christian beliefs aside as they are not good for the “bottom line”, the deadline or the aims of short-sighted movements or ideologies.

Christians can be certainly political or apolitical.  Christians can hold a variety of convictions about the issues and controversies of the day.  Christians can differ with one another even under the same church roof.

Nonetheless, as we carry around our own denarius (marked with words of an civic religiosity), as politicians and others vie for your attention and allegiance, there is a reminder that this ritual, which may appear to outsiders as a curiously public way to take a bath, is really about a person’s desire to open their hearts and give their life to the teachings of Jesus, who never wanted to be part of “the powers that be” yet his followers claim as the Son of God, Lord and Savior of the world.

As Christopher met with me recently, we came to the sanctuary and talked about the way a baptism would be conducted (i.e. bring towels, hope the water temperature’s “just right”, and “don’t worry, I’ll bring you back up!”).  Christopher shared that he looked forward to this day as a time that felt right to him, a chance to become part of something “greater”. Indeed, you have become part of something far greater than any ruler’s empire, any claim made to power and authority.  This day, you have become a baptized believer in Christ. 

May you live each day in the truth, grace, justice, mercy and love of the gospel. 

May you speak truthfully in a world not necessarily interested in a truth not of its own devising. 

May you bear God’s love and forgiveness as a peaceable witness to the nonviolent Kingdom/Reign/Empire of heaven.

May you remember this day as an end of one way and the beginning of another way that no earthly power could guide you down.

May the peace of Christ be with you.  AMEN.