19 October 2008
Twenty-Ninth Sunday of the Year (A)
fr Dominic White withdraws his trust in Mammon and turns to Divine Providence.
In the paper the other day someone wrote about the current economic crash as a ‘crisis of faith’: we had believed in the money markets as our religion.
We just thought that money would make money and money would buy happiness, not realising that, sooner or later, the credit would crunch, and the holes in risky, fast-buck investments would be exposed. So now we’ve lost that faith, people fear to spend, and the banks fear to lend.
It would be very easy for Christians to say, ‘See, we told you so. You worshipped money, not God, and this is where it’s got you.’ But that’s not much help to the people who are hit hardest, such as families on small incomes. Yet, as the ‘religion’ of the market has failed, do we have a different vision of money and the economy to offer? Or is Christianity not concerned with such things?
It rather seems from what Jesus says that it’s not. ‘Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar — and to God what belongs to God.’ This has often been cited by Christians who want church and politics to stay apart, and with some good reason. After all, we’ve seen plenty of totalitarian governments that had a Christian veneer, and even in democratic politics, if a Christian party acts corruptly just once, it wrecks ruins the reputation not just of the party, but of the Christian faith. But is this what Jesus is getting at?
The Pharisees are trying desperately to get rid of Him. If He says you can pay taxes to Caesar, then He’s on the side of the hated Romans, whom they hoped the longed-for Messiah would free them from, so they can stir up the people against Him. But if He says not to pay Caesar, then He’s guilty of treason and they can hand him straight over to the Romans.
Jesus saw straight through this. And His answer was not just clever: it had a very basic message that we often forget: God is in control, not human beings. We don’t need to try to manipulate God or others. If we are faithful to God, and work within our situation, He will do the rest.
So just grin and bear it, then? But if our situation is bad, if people around us are living with injustice and oppression, shouldn’t we do something about it?
Let’s look at what happened to the exiled people of Israel under Cyrus. This man, whom Isaiah calls God’s anointed — yes, Messiah! — was a Persian ruler who had conquered the Babylonians, the people who had taken the Israelites into captivity. Wanting to be seen as tolerant and benign, he allows the Jewish people to return home.
And even though Cyrus does not know the God of Israel, God has called him by his name. Our God is a God of surprises. Just as the people and things we expect to help may disappoint, sometimes God acts through the most unlikely channels. ‘People unknown to me served me’ (Psalm 17.43). That is because He is ‘the Lord, unrivalled’.
So by all means let’s ask God for what we want. But let’s be open to His way, His initiative — which may well be a prompt to action: St. Paul was an amazingly active and energetic apostle, yet always in response to the guidance he received in prayer. A world away from seizing illusory happiness from a fast car, dream holiday (and pay nothing till Christmas).
In these tougher times, we need to rely on God’s providence. This is not a grim fact — though the bursting of a bubble is never pleasant — rather, it’s an opportunity. If we put our trust in God, and listen to His voice, we can persevere in real hope, working especially to love our neighbour in need, knowing that what we do is faith in action.
This is our opportunity to let go of the money religion, so that money becomes what it should be: a useful tool, not our master.
fr. Dominic White works in St. Dominic’s Parish, London, where he was formerly the organist. He preaches the Gospel through writing music and promoting the arts as well as in word.
Father,
you have appointed your Son Jesus Christ eternal High Priest.
Guide those he has chosen to be ministers of word and sacrament
to help them to be faithful
in fulfilling the ministry they have received.
Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
From The Roman Missal (c) 1973, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc.
Is 45:1, 4-6
Thus says the LORD to his anointed, Cyrus,
whose right hand I grasp,
subduing nations before him,
and making kings run in his service,
opening doors before him
and leaving the gates unbarred:
For the sake of Jacob, my servant,
of Israel, my chosen one,
I have called you by your name,
giving you a title, though you knew me not.
I am the LORD and there is no other,
there is no God besides me.
It is I who arm you, though you know me not,
so that toward the rising and the setting of the sun
people may know that there is none besides me.
I am the LORD, there is no other.
Ps 96:1, 3, 4-5, 7-8, 9-10
R. (7b) Give the Lord glory and honor.
Sing to the LORD a new song;
sing to the LORD, all you lands.
Tell his glory among the nations;
among all peoples, his wondrous deeds.
R. Give the Lord glory and honor.
For great is the LORD and highly to be praised;
awesome is he, beyond all gods.
For all the gods of the nations are things of nought,
but the LORD made the heavens.
R. Give the Lord glory and honor.
Give to the LORD, you families of nations,
give to the LORD glory and praise;
give to the LORD the glory due his name!
Bring gifts, and enter his courts.
R. Give the Lord glory and honor.
Worship the LORD, in holy attire;
tremble before him, all the earth;
say among the nations: The LORD is king,
he governs the peoples with equity.
R. Give the Lord glory and honor.
1 Thes 1:1-5b
Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy to the church of the Thessalonians
in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ:
grace to you and peace.
We give thanks to God always for all of you,
remembering you in our prayers,
unceasingly calling to mind your work of faith and labor of love
and endurance in hope of our Lord Jesus Christ,
before our God and Father,
knowing, brothers and sisters loved by God,
how you were chosen.
For our gospel did not come to you in word alone,
but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with much conviction.
Mt 22:15-21
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.”
Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved.
Portrait of Isaac Jogues
Even among martyrs Isaac Jogues is somewhat unique, for he under-went one long drawn-out martyrdom years before he actually met his death from the blow of a tomahawk. In a sense, we could say that Jogues’ martyrdom lasted from 1642 to 1646. This is why the story of his life is such a moving and memorable one.
The true greatness of Jogues emerged only under the stress of cap-ture and incredible suffering. It was as if his brethren had never really known the depth of his faith and love until these were literally tested in the fire of Iroquois torture and captivity. That occurred in 1642 when Jogues was taken prisoner near modern Sorel on the St. Lawrence.
THE MAN FROM ORLEANS
Isaac Jogues, born in Orleans, January 10, 1607, was the fifth of nine children. From the age of ten he attended Jesuit schools, and, when he was seventeen, decided to become a Jesuit. Once accepted, he entered the Jesuit novitiate at Rouen and had the privilege of being directed by Father Louis Lalemant, a master of the religious and spiri-tual life and a relative of the three Lalemants who served the mission of New France.
After two years of novitiate Jogues pursued his studies at the College of La Fle che and then, in 1629, began to teach the humanities to young French boys at Rouen. He was a successful teacher, for he was a gifted humanist himself with a remarkable grasp of language and expression. Four years later he turned to the study of theology at Clermont in Paris, and, after three years, he was ordained a priest in the chapel at Clermont.
This was 1636, and Jogues was deemed ready for missionary work in New France, an apostolate he had yearned for.
His Jesuit brethren had launched the mission in New France in 1625 while Jogues was still a novice. In 1626, they had sent the famous Jean de Brebeuf to open up another mission among the Hurons, 900 miles inland. This was a very difficult and demanding apostolate, yet Jogues aspired to it.
Of Jogues’ early years as a Jesuit, Father Jacques Buteux, a friend, said: “he was loved by Ours as being most gentle and as being very observant of our way of life.”
The young Jesuit priest sailed from Dieppe, April 8, 1636 and eight weeks later his ship dropped anchor in the Baie des Chaleurs. He reached Quebec only several weeks later on July 2nd.
Paul le Jeune, the superior at Quebec, noted in the Relation for 1636, written that August, “On the second of the same month (July) Father Jogues and Father du Marche came to add to our great joy, which we felt all the more deeply, as our Lord had brought them to us in good health.”
UP TO HURONIA
In a letter to his mother, dated August 20,1636 and sent from Three Rivers, Jogues described his arrival, state of health and initial impres-sions. He also added a brief but significant postscript: “I have just received orders to get ready to go to the mission of the Hurons in two or three days.”
On August 24th, Jogues embarked in a canoe with five Hurons who had come to trade and were now returning to the upper country. It would be quite a trip for a new missionary unfamiliar with the Huron language. Indeed, this first trip up must have been one of the memor-able events in the lives of all the blackrobes and any others who eventually voyaged to the land of the Hurons. Jogues has left us some of his impressions of the trip.
He mentioned that their only food for the journey was Indian corn, crushed between two stones and boiled in water without any seasoning whatever; that sleep overcame them perched on high cliffs bordering the Ottawa river, out in the open and under the gaze of the moon; the awkwardness of travelling in a crowded canoe, unable to change posi-tion or relieve cramped muscles; the enforced silence because one could not speak a word of Huron; and the strange and brusque ways of one’s Indian companions.
There were also the interminable portages around rapids and water-falls so plentiful on the Ottawa river. And yet, despite all the usual hazards of the trip, Jogues’ group made excellent time. They took only nineteen days to cover a distance that normally took twenty-five to thirty. Jogues disembarked from his canoe at Ihonatiria on September 11th.
1636-1642
After an early bout of sickness that nearly killed him, Jogues applied himself to learning the Huron language and then did his missionary apprenticeship under older Jesuits like Brebeuf and Le Mercier. Called by the Hurons “Ondessonk” (bird of prey) he labored mainly among the Tobacco Indians, the friendly neighbors of the Hurons to the west, and later in and around Sainte-Marie, the important centre of the whole mission begun under Jerome Lalemant’s direction in 1639.
The apostolate with Charles Garnier among the Tobacco Indians was, in human terms, a completely unrewarding one. Despite all their good will, generosity and patience, they encountered nothing except hostility and minor persecution. The Tobaccos, victims of infectious diseases, blamed the blackrobes and shrank from them as from death itself. As Jerome Lalemant remarked so well, “These missionaries see themselves the abomination of those whose salvation they seek, at the peril of their own lives.”
After Jogues left the Tobacco country, he ministered to the Hurons around Sainte-Marie. He also directed some of the new building at the rapidly developing mission centre.
Then, in 1641, at the request of his superior Jerome Lalemant, he joined Father Charles Raymbaut on a hurried trip to a distant Indian nation called the inhabitants of the Sault. These Indian visitors to Huronia lived mainly where modern Sault Ste. Marie stands today at the juncture of Lake Huron and Lake Superior.
The party started from Sainte-Marie about the end of September and took seventeen days to reach their destination. The missionaries were warmly welcomed. They calculated that 2,000 Indians lived in the area. From their hosts they learned that other Indian nations, who spoke neither Algonkian nor Huron, lived in good numbers to the west and northwest. The apostolic possibilities were intriguing.
The two missionaries, however, because of the lateness of the season did not linger very long at the Sault. With their Huron companions they paddled back to Sainte-Marie, arriving probably in early November.
When the following summer had restored the good weather, Jogues was assigned to make the trip to Three Rivers and Quebec. Supplies were urgently needed, and it was clear that Raymbaut, now critically ill, needed someone to accompany him on the long journey to Quebec.
They set out in the middle of June, and little did Jogues realize that this would be the last he would see of his beloved Huronia. Dark and dramatic days lay ahead.
AMBUSH AND CAPTURE!
The trip to Quebec was made without mishap. On August 1st, Jogues’ group, forty in number, laden with goods and supplies for the hard pressed mission, left on the return trip to Huronia. They did not get very far. On the following day they were ambushed by the waiting Iroquois. Most of the Hurons fled, a few were killed or captured, and Jogues and two donne’s Rene’ Goupil and Guillaume Couture were taken prisoner. Among the captured Hurons was Ahatsistari, the greatest of their warriors, and several other prominent Christians. What a blow to the Huron mission!
As soon as the engagement was over, the nightmare of torture began. The enemy fell upon their captives in a great rage, ripping out their finger nails, chewing their fingers and beating them with clubs. They then hustled off their victims to Mohawk country south of the St. Lawrence. En route the poor captives were “caressed” by 200 Iroquois setting out on the warpath. All, except a few small children, were savagely beaten and mutilated.
And yet there was still so much more to come.
On the 18th day, weak from lack of food, loss of blood and the agonizing pain of their bruised, broken and mutilated members, the prisoners arrived in the first Iroquois village. Here again the same ordeal had to be faced: running the gauntlet, beating, cutting, whip-ping, burning, scratching. It was an incredible experience to be under-gone again in two other villages. One wonders how the captives could survive such brutal and inhuman treatment.
Jogues seemed to be singled out for the refinement of this cruelty since the Iroquois considered him a kind of leader. They hacked off his left thumb; and yet he was grateful they had spared the right thumb so he could write to his brethren! He also received some terrible blows to his body, especially with a big lump of iron attached to a rope, and, as he said, “the only thing that kept me from fainting and that sustained my strength and courage was the fear that my tormentor would hit me with it a second time.”
And even at night there was no respite for the poor victims. It was then the turn of the adolescents and children who delighted in throwing hot coals and burning cinders on their tortured flesh, in tearing open their wounds and in inflicting other senseless barbarities. And as Jogues himself remarked, “patience was our physician.”
Although the Iroquois had vowed to end their lives by fire, a deliberation of the elders decided on sparing the lives of the French and of all the Hurons except three - Ahatsistari, Paul Ononhoraton and Etienne Totiri. These were burned alive in the Mohawk villages.
THE PRISONER
On September 7th, a leading member of the neighboring Dutch colony came with two others to arrange for the freedom of the French cap-tives. Although the Dutch offered a handsome ransom, the Iroquois flatly refused to surrender Jogues, Goupil and Couture.
The days of captivity slipped by, but always the threat of death lay over the heads of Jogues and Goupil now separated from Couture. Mohawk hotheads longed to finish them off. Finally on September 29th, Jogues and Goupil, out for a walk and some seclusion, were intercepted by two young Iroquois just outside of the village of Osser-nenon. Sensing something sinister, both commended themselves to God’s mercy. As they entered the village the young men struck Goupil with their hatchets and killed him. Jogues, fully expecting the worst for himself, knelt for a death blow that never came. He was left to mourn the death of this valiant Christian to whom he had become so attached.
Autumn gave way to winter and Jogues, treated like a slave, some-how or other eked out a miserable existence among this inhospitable throng. No one seemed to care about him. However, about mid winter, living conditions improved slightly, and some of the elders even listened for a time to his teaching about christianity. Having thus gained a measure of freedom, he visited the sick, comforted captive Hurons and even succeeded in baptizing some dying Iroquois.
ESCAPE
With the arrival of summer Jogues was often taken on various fishing expeditions by his Mohawk captors. In August, 1643, the group to which he was attached had to pass through a Dutch village in order to do some trading. The Dutch commander of the settlement, Arendt van Corlaer, managed to draw him aside and urged him to take this oppor-tunity to escape. There was a boat at anchor in the Hudson waiting to carry him downstream to safety. Jogues, only anxious to follow God’s will in everything, asked for the night to pray over the decision. In his prayer he weighed all the reasons for fleeing and for staying, and he finally decided that it was God’s will for him that he now escape. He had done all he could for his French companions and the christian Hurons among the Iroquois.
And so with the connivance of the Dutch, Jogues, that night, gave his Iroquois escort the slip and found a hiding place on the boat at anchor in the river. The Dutch for Several days had to brave the fury of the outraged Iroquois, incensed at being robbed of their prey. It was touch and go for a while whether the Mohawks would turn on the Dutch themselves, and Jogues, aware of the commotion, was ready to give himself up. However, the Dutch rode out this storm and finally pacified the Indians with various gifts.
Once the crisis had passed and the Iroquois had moved away, the Dutch sent Jogues downstream to their main colony, that of New Am-sterdam (New York). From there, after excellent hospitality, Jogues obtained passage on a Dutch vessel bound for La Rochelle, France.
Freedom was his now once again, but he bore on his body and in his countenance the unmistakable marks of incredible tortures.
BACK IN FRANCE
Jogues arrived in Lower Brittany on Christmas Day, 1643. Through the kindness of a merchant from Rennes he reached that city early in the morning of January 5, 1644, and presented himself at the Jesuit residence there, asking to see the Rector.
As we might expect, the porter, at that early hour, rather put off by his miserable and strange appearance, demurred a good deal, until finally Jogues appealed to him to say to the Rector that a poor man from Canada was asking for him. The porter thought it wise to deliver this message. The Rector who was vested to say Mass came at once to see this poor person, believing him to be someone in dire need.
The Rector welcomed the stranger with kindness and, while extend-ing hospitality, plied him with questions about the New World and about various Jesuits there. Finally, he asked him about Father Isaac Jogues; there had been some dreadful rumors. Was he alive? or had he been put to death, or . . .? Jogues quietly answered: “He is at liberty and it is he, Reverend Father, who speaks to you.”
We can well imagine the Rector’s astonishment at this revelation and the consternation of the Jesuit community as the news rapidly spread. Jogues alive and right here in our house in Rennes? One can almost hear the Gallic “Impossible!” As one of these Rennes Jesuits wrote later, all the brethren regarded Jogues as a Lazarus raised from the dead.
Naturally, Jogues’ presence had a profound effect on all he met. His Jesuit brethren were deeply moved at the sight of him. One recorded his impressions of the man in this fashion: “He is as cheerful as if he had suffered nothing; and as zealous to return among the Hurons, amid all those dangers, as if perils were to him securities. He certainly expects to cross the ocean once again, in order to succor these poor people, and to finish the sacrifice already begun.”
Jogues, the living victim, created a sensation in France. Everyone from the Queen down wished to meet and talk with him. For a man so conscious of his own shortcomings and indebtedness to God, all this proved extremely mortifying. He simply longed to return to New France and his beloved Hurons. His superiors, recognizing the true situation, readily concurred in this design, and a happy Jogues sailed off to New France in that spring of 1644.
BACK TO NEW FRANCE
Strangely enough, his brethren in Canada learned of his escape from the Iroquois only when he re-appeared on the St. Lawrence that June of 1644! In those days communications left something to be desired.
Mere Marie de l’Incarnation, “mother of the Canadian Church” and good friend of Jogues, wrote to her son Claude in France to say that “God has restored to us a true living martyr.” She also mentioned that she had questioned Jogues about his experiences and was struck by his “wondrous simplicity, which shows his great saintliness.”
Although he was back in Canada, Jogues would never see the land of Huronia again. His superiors assigned him to ministry at the young colony of Montreal and employed him in various dealings with the Iroquois, at that time a bit more tractable. The French were then more hopeful of arranging some kind of lasting peace with their bitter foe and needed the services of a man like Jogues so well versed in the language and ways of these Iroquois.
In May 1646, Jogues went as an ambassador of peace to the Mohawks, his erstwhile captors. It was not a long affair and he re-turned to Quebec by early July.
All that summer an uneasy truce continued, but in September the French believed it necessary to make further overtures for peace, and so once again they proposed sending Jogues among the Iroquois. He, for his part, was most willing to go, even though he felt a premonition of impending death. While awaiting confirmation of his appointment he penned a few lines to a fellow Jesuit and ended with: “My heart tells me that, if I am the one to be sent on this mission, I shall go but I shall not return. But I would be happy if our Lord wished to complete the sacrifice where he began it. Farewell, dear Father. Pray that God unite me to himself inseparably.”
Jogues, accompanied by a young donne’ Jean de la Lande and a few Hurons, left Three Rivers on this embassy September 27th or 28th. At first all went smoothly. But some Iroquois they met on the way advised them that all was not well. Certain malcontents were all for breaking the truce and attacking the French. At this news all Jogues’ Huron companions but one left him. Jogues, however, felt he must push on, and de Ia Lande stayed with him.
Whether they sensed it or not - and possibly they did - they were heading for death, but the death of martyrs.
NEWS OF JOGUES’ DEATH
No news of their fate reached Quebec until June 1647. Letters from the Dutch governor Kieft and Jan Labatie, an interpreter at Fort Orange (Albany), announced the deaths of Jogues and de la Lande. Both had been beaten and tomahawked to death by certain Mohawks angry with the French and full of hate for Jogues whom they blamed for so many recent misfortunes. It was a sad but not unexpected message.
Jerome Lalemant, in the Relation for 1647, refers to Jogues as a true martyr. He then paid a warm tribute to his fellow missionary. One can detect in Lalemant’s words his deep appreciation and love of this heroic brother. He praises his rare humility, his strict poverty, his great purity of heart, and his love of the Cross.
Never, says Lalemant, did Jogues condone in himself the slightest aversion towards his persecutors, and, even though by nature endowed with a hasty temper, he controlled it admirably. True, he spoke out boldly when any of the Iroquois mocked the faith, but that was only because God meant everything to him and he could not brook any seeming slight to the divine majesty.
Jogues’ obedience, extraordinary prayerfulness and deep attachment to the Blessed Sacrament were bywords with his fellow Jesuits. Father Buteux described him as a soul glued to the Blessed Sacrament.
Nor must we forget his remarkable sensitivity, his deep concern for others, his tormentors included, and his love so full of tenderness. All this he manifested so strikingly in his dealings with Goupil, the Hurons and the Iroquois themselves. Parkman, that begrudging admirer of the early blackrobes, was profoundly impressed by the life of Jogues. In him he saw “one of the purest examples of Roman Catholic virtue.”
It is rare for any man to suffer two martyrdoms in a single lifetime. This was Jogues’ holy fate. “Our Lord prolonged his life,” wrote Lale-mant, “that he might come and present it to him another time, as a burnt offering, at the place where he had already begun his sacrifice.” Jogues’ accomplishment, then, is, in a dramatic and unforgettable manner, that of any man or woman who unswervingly loves God with the whole heart and the whole mind and the whole strength, and the neighbor as oneself, even if this must lead to unspeakable suffering and death.
It would take three centuries before the Church officially recognized what Jogues’ fellow Jesuits and friends, what so many Hurons and Algonkins, and Iroquois too, simply took for granted. On June 29, 1930, at Rome, in the pontificate of Pope Pius XI, Isaac Jogues, along with Jean de Brebeuf, Rene Goupil, Jean de la Lande and four others of New France, was declared a martyr and saint.
by ANGUS MACDOUGALL
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 the emperor, 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, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
Praise some powerful person for qualities he or she doesn’t have, and you insult them in a subtle way. Flattery has been called the politeness of contempt. But it works! Only a very rock-like person could remain unmoved when a warm gush of flattery is playing over him. Most people suspend all critical self-examination at such a moment.
The flattery of the Pharisees was more subtle still! They probably knew that Jesus could not be flattered by lies, so they tried to flatter him with the truth. “We know you are afraid of no one, and that a man’s rank means nothing to you!” But there was treachery in every word. They would entice him to bravado in speech, and then get him into serious trouble with the authorities for what he said! Taxation of Jews by the Romans (who were the occupying powers) was a burning issue; and the Romans had dealt summarily with Judas the Gaulonite who tried to raise resistance to it. Here then were these Pharisees trying to walk Jesus into the same fate. They brought some Herodians with them, to make it a perfect trap. If Jesus answered yes to their question he would be branded a collaborator; if he answered no he would be in deep trouble with the Herodians, who were collaborators with the Romans. But he was ready.
What strikes you more and more in the gospels is the sheer intelligence of Jesus. His answer was full of wit and insight. It was full of significance for the future too. The notion of separation between religion and politics (or, as it came to be known, the separation of Church and State) was unknown before him. We see today the trouble that the lack of such a distinction makes in countries with Muslim majorities, and even in countries with Muslim minorities.
This saying of his, “Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” was useful from the start: it was of great importance to the early Christians, because they were often accused of disloyalty to the state; see, for example, Acts 17:7: “These people…have broken every one of Caesar’s edicts.” St Paul wrote an exhortation to loyalty to the state (Romans 13:1-7, where he even says that the tax-man is doing God’s work!). Clearly there is a tradition of civil loyalty that goes back to Jesus himself.
But passing beyond the particular question of taxes, it is of the greatest interest to see how Jesus faced people in authority. His way is ultimately the model for how we ourselves are to face authority, as we do every day, in one way or another. It is not a pleasant thing when a policeman approaches you and says, “Documents!” It is like being asked what right you have to exist. Jesus was asked precisely this kind of question one day in the Temple. He was approached by “the chief priests, the teachers of the Law and the Jewish authorities.” He was on their ground. “By what authority do you do these things…?” they demanded. (He had been teaching, which was their job.) But he was not one to bow down before authority. He put a perfect fix on them.
Jesus defied human authorities when he had to, but he was not against authority in principle. “Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.” People who are against authority in principle are often simply looking for authority themselves. But the ultimate words on authority are surely his: “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve.”
