When we peruse the Bible, especially the Hebrew Scriptures, we encounter narratives and poems describing the many hardships, struggles and injustices of biblical times. Nations and kingdoms rival one another. Assyrian, Egyptian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman empires rise and fall. Monarchs, princes, wealthy landlords and dishonest merchants enforce corrupt laws to enrich themselves — leaving many people, especially small farmers, disenfranchised. Wars pollute the land, destroying human and non-human life as women and children become widowed and fatherless, respectively. Political and social oppression leads to forced migration, exile and landlessness. 

Biblical times were not so different from contemporary times. Countries are at war with one another as U.S. leaders work to maintain the nation's empire status. China, Russia and North Korea form new alliances in their quest for power. The Israeli and Palestinian conflict rages on. Oligarchs control the global economic system. Corporate agribusinesses gobble up small family farms. Landlords raise rents as lenders increase mortgage rates, making it difficult for middle income and low wage earners to either stay in their rentals or buy homes and property. The power brokers of the Global North continue to self-enrich at the expense of the Global South.

Ironically, in 2023, economic statistics show that poverty has increased in the U.S., the land of plenty. Economic data also indicates that the recent global pandemic created many new billionaires among the western technology and pharmaceutical companies, making their CEOs and presidents our new global bio-techno-feudal lords.

We live in a changed world with more changes on the horizon. Now is the time to become more economically, socially and politically astute, as we try to navigate the new terrain upon which we have yet to gain our footing. 

Reading and interpreting this Sunday's biblical texts from the perspective of the world in front of the text and in dialogue with contemporary experiences, we discover that both the first reading from the book of Exodus and the Gospel reading from the book of Matthew are clarion calls to right relationship. Despite all our advancement on so many levels throughout three millennia, human beings have yet to be able to live peacefully and justly with one another. 

In the Exodus reading, focus is on those who are "other," harshly translated as "aliens" as if they were not part of humanity. In this narrative, the Israelites are reminded not to oppress the "other" among them because as Israelites, they were once a people living in a land not their own, migrants seeking asylum from severe famines and massive starvation. 

For many countries today, immigration and fair and just treatment of immigrants continue to be a major challenge, especially in the United States where immigration reform has yet to happen as people of different ethnicities, cultures and races seek asylum from horrific political and social oppression. How do we non-Native American U.S. citizens whose ancestors were immigrants"others" themselves — treat today's immigrants? Sadly, some of us who are descendants of immigrants have forgotten who we are, and some of us continue our history of colonization, disenfranchisement and oppression. 

It's time for history to stop repeating itself by "othering." It's time to work for political, social, economic and environmental justice ever more arduously to abolish sexism, racism, ableism, colorism, ethnocentrism, Islamophobia, xenophobia, sexual orientation discrimination and the many more forms of discrimination that keep the “other” disenfranchised and on the margins.

The Holy One is part of the margins, lives on the margins, is embodied in the margins, is actively listening to and working for the margins with active divine compassion. The litmus test for people of any faith and spirituality today is the measure of how deep their active compassion is for the "other" among them which also includes non-human life, the new migrants of climate change. Active compassion entails changing oppressive structures, systems and ways of thinking.

The Gospel reading from the book of Matthew complements the first reading from Exodus. Increasingly, nations' governments are moving toward authoritarianism even among democracies. Fundamentalism and literalism are on the rise as people search for absolutes, law and order and certainty among sacred texts, constitutions and religious systems of thought. In some countries, political, social and economic laws are now shaped by culturally conditioned religious laws and culturally conditioned religious attitudes, making the separation between church and state an experience of the past. The United States is no exception. 

Yet, the Gospel is clear. Law is not the means to the deep transformation needed in our world today; relationships create the pathways. For believers, the deeper the relationship one has with the Divine, the greater the flow of positive energy into self, an energy felt as love, that enlarges hearts and minds, compelling all to do the hard work of all-embracing justice without which no right relationship or transformation is possible. 

The cartoon character Charlie Brown never ages, and seems not to learn much either.  Every fall since 1953, Lucy has been snatching away the football just before Charlie can kick it, leaving him sprawled on the ground, lamenting. Poor old Charlie Brown.  

It often seems that Jesus' opponents were as naïve as Charlie Brown and as unkind and double-crossing as Lucy. Over and again, they failed to realize that they were no match for the wit and wisdom of their prey. Time after time, they tried to trap Jesus, only to find themselves caught in the spiraling conundrums that flowed from their attempts. As often happens, the Gospel we hear today has multiple levels of significance.  

Jesus must have enjoyed the rich irony of the group that marshaled to approach him that day; they were Herodians and disciples of the Pharisees — groups with significant ideological differences brought together  because they chose to see Jesus as a rival. The combination of these two groups intent on cornering Jesus made for great public theater. Like prosecuting attorneys, they planned to  bamboozle him with a question about paying taxes: If he said, "Don't pay," he was rebelling against the Romans; if he advised payment, he was affirming the Roman right to collect a hated tax — something like the British tax of 1773 that led to the Boston Tea Party. Unfortunately for them, Jesus was quick on his feet and led them to get snared in their own trap. 

He said, "Show me the money!" Money always talks. In this case, when one of them produced the type of Roman currency required for paying that much-loathed tax, the coin made a visual announcement that at least one of those purists was walking around with a portrait of Caesar in his purse. That coin not only had an image, but it bore the inscription, "Tiberius Caesar, Son of the Divine Augustus." That announced that the holder was ready to comply with the tax and also carried a "graven image" of a false God: flagrant violations of God’s command. (In the Catholic list of the 10 , this is part of the first commandment; in the usual Protestant version it is the second.) Simply by showing Jesus the coin they had, they incriminated themselves both of being compliant with Rome and as breaking the law of God. This much of the entertainment is obvious. 

Now for the spiraling conundrum. Jesus asked, "Whose image (literally icon) is there?" When they identified Caesar, he said, "Render to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God, what belongs to God." That short interchange included two key points.  

First, "icon" is the word used in Genesis to speak of human beings created as images of God. Genesis 1:26-27 uses the word icon three times as it teaches that male and female are created in the divine image. Hearing the question, "whose image?" created an echo of Genesis in the minds of anyone steeped in the scriptures, reminding them that every person is an august icon of God.

Second, the word, "render," means more than "pay" or even "repay." It implies that the person in question is handing over something very personal — this isn't just a random silver dollar; "rendering" something indicates that the givers are handing over a bit of themselves and admitting that the receiver has the right to it. This raises the question of what really belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God. Because Jesus had brought Genesis to mind, the answer was obvious: Everything is part of God's creation, destined to be consecrated to God's purpose.

Just like Charlie Brown running toward Lucy, the team of Pharisees and Herodians fell into Jesus' trap and were left sprawling. Instead of forcing Jesus' hand, the evidence they produced implicated them in the very transgressions they were trying to pin on Jesus. He, in turn, had transformed their interrogation into a proclamation of God's unique sovereignty.  

Note: In the process of taking the lead role in this skit, Jesus didn't really answer his opponents' question — at least not directly. He taught unequivocally that love of God and neighbor summarize the human vocation, but he avoided giving details about how love should be incarnated in particular situations — the only hard and fast rule would be love.  

As disciples who realize that Jesus did not give a definitive answer, we need to revisit the scene, seeking what the incident teaches. Avoiding meticulous mandates, Jesus invites us to deeper considerations. By recalling Genesis and the human vocation to be icons of the divine, he calls forth our creativity. While he does not give us hard and fast rules, he promises to be there for us, more trustworthy than Lucy, sending the Spirit who helps us learn better than Charlie.