God And Caesar

The particular state in which we live impinges upon every facet of our lives. Every person relates to the state, whether as helper-in-time-of-need or as oppressor (or even both simultaneously); whether in anger, love, or apathy; whether in form 1040 or in the magistrate's court. In one way or another, a relationship is required.

Obviously this relationship is not a creation of the modern age but an experience of people in all ages and cultures. Christians, then, can look confidently to the biblical literature for pertinent data on this topic.

The Old Testament
The Old Testament people of God related to two basic types of state: 1) their own theocratic state and 2) the pagan states surrounding them, which often saw themselves as theocratic.

Taking the pagan state first, it is clear that the Hebrews always saw themselves as distinct from that state. Abraham was a sojourner, a nomadic chief, who might have lived in the sphere of control of a given state, but who was never a citizen. He maintained his own independence of (and at times parity with) the city-state of his time.

Later, as a captive people, whether in Egypt, Assyria, or Babylon, the Israelites remained conscious of their separate identity. They might indeed have owned land, built houses, planted orchards and vineyards, but they always knew that they belonged somewhere else. They might as an Esther or Daniel have risen to high positions in their country of exile (or of birth), yet they could never fully participate in its culture. They were never Chaldeans or Assyrians or (later) Romans, but, so long as they remained the people of God, always Jews--the "Nation of the Jews" in that locality, as the Romans would later say.

The state gods could never be their God. They celebrated different customs and festivals. And when a conflict developed between the demands of the state (and its divinized ruler and its agents) and the demands of Yahweh, Yahweh, the God of Israel won, at least as far as later generations of Jews were concerned. The Jews would rather face lions than compromise their allegiance to their God.

Surely some did compromise; some did try to worship Yahweh as part of the pagan pantheon; some even became ardent defenders of Greek and Roman culture. But this very attempt showed its futility. For one generation such a religious mish-mash might endure with a modicum of Jewish identity (often ironically despised by both the culture they were embracing and the orthodox Jews), but soon they merged into the general culture, forgetting their past identity, nevermore a part of the people of God. One simply could not mix the service of God with that of the pagan state.

Relationships with the Jewish theocratic state, however, were much more complex. When it came to Israel, Yahweh had in some sense established the state: It was a Jewish state in a Jewish land. The state was the corporate people to whom one belonged. That fact made the whole relationship different.

In pre-monarchial times it was different indeed. The individual Israelite was loyal to family, clan, and tribe, for the concept of nation hardly existed except as a loose confederation of tribes. True central government did not exist. There was, of course, the shrine and cult at Shiloh (or elsewhere). The priest there would receive one's sacrifice. He would also use the sacred lot to advise the tribal leaders. But he was hardly a ruler.

Not even the judges were rulers. They were heroes, men and women upon whom God's Spirit rested in the time of crisis (therefore giving them a certain charismatic authority); but once the emergency was over, their influence was moral, not legal. Their advice was sought, for they were people close to God, but even at best they rarely influenced more than their own and a few neighboring tribes. Life for the most part was lived on the local village level; only military emergencies in which survival itself was at stake necessitated action on the tribal and inter-tribal level.

Only Yahweh bridged the gap between clans and tribes. It was loyalty to [Yahweh] that held the tribes together. Without this unity they were nothing but isolated, scattered nomadic bands in the process of settling down. Thus God was the state: Submission to [God] and [God's] law was what it meant to be a citizen. [God's] worship tied scattered villages together around a common theme.

Kings and Prophets
The advent of the monarchy produced a profound change, for now the apparatus of the state began to appear. There were professional soldiers loyal to the king, as well as a royal court. The sanctuary was relocated so that the king could regulate and use it; it served to bring people to Jerusalem who otherwise would never have come. The king ministered in some of the ceremonies and to a degree controlled who was priest (e.g. 2 Samuel 20:21; 1 Kings 2:35).

This change served to give the people a stronger national identity, but it also inserted a new mediator between them and God. The king represented Yahweh as [Yahweh's] adopted son, and in turn the king represented the people to Yahweh. Thus the people received a more concrete image of God's will, but at the cost of being liable to being led astray by the ruler's errors, and therefore to God's punishing all of them for his sins. There was also the matter of the taxes and forced labor needed to support the monarchy and the inflation and resentment which this caused.

The duty of the citizen toward this theocratic state was accordingly complex and inherently full of contradictions. On the one hand, all adult males were citizen-soldiers. It was their assumption that 1) God had given Palestine to Israel, 2) they were called upon to defend this fact by force of arms, 3) God would fight for them if they were righteous, i.e. were living according to his law, and 4) before any campaign the king had consulted God through priest and prophet to determine [God's] will.

On the other hand, the king had a personal standing army around which the citizen-soldiers were organized. This army was only too available for wars of conquest outside of Palestine, including the subjugation of lands that Yahweh had explicitly not given to Israel.

Taxes likewise had two sides. They were, of course, necessary to run the central government, and thus a necessary evil (1 Samuel 8:10-18). The troops they supported kept the peace, and the judges they paid gave justice to the poor. But taxes could also become the basis of self-aggrandizement and luxury for the king and a crushing burden to the people.

The authors of scripture, then, look at the monarchy from two angles. The king was selected by God; the stable Davidic monarchy stressed this cultic divine approval of its role. To act against the king was to act against God; attempts to injure or replace the king are looked upon in scripture with horror.

The Northern Kingdom had a variety of this concept, for, although God was viewed as one who could and did replace the king, [God] alone was the selector of each successive dynasty. Only the monarch's sin kept him from enjoying the permanent divine approval of the Davidic dynasty.

But even if God did select the king, [God] did not have to fully approve of the monarchial system. The monarchial state was at best an act of divine condescension to human evil, and human evil inhered in the state. According to the Pentateuch, the king was to be bound by divine law and thus limited: He should have neither a large harem, nor offensive weapons, nor great wealth. He is not to think of himself as above the law or a law to himself, but, just as any other Israelite, as under the law, submitted to God (Deuteronomy 17:15-20).

The king was not always submitted to God. David was the first king to have both a harem and the major offensive weapon, the horse-drawn chariot. Solomon is "praised" (surely a lampoon in the light of Deuteronomy) for his wealth, his wives, and his horse trading (1 Kings 10:1-11:8). Likewise the kings oppressed the people by trampling on their rights, forcing them to labor on royal projects, and leading them astray. The historical writers constantly point to this problem and its tragic results for the people.

The evil in the monarchy meant that God's prophets often attacked it. They removed the mask of divine sanction from the state and its cult by pointing out 1) that it had transgressed God's guidelines, 2) that God was about to judge it, and 3) that those loyal to God should take appropriate action to disassociate themselves from the state and its evil.

The normal charges against the state were injustice against the poor and a failure to submit totally to God (idolatry or syncretism). To make such charges was in fact treason, an act of disloyalty to the state (e.g. Amos 7:10-13), and many a prophet paid for his prophecy with his life. But the people of God had to recognize a solemn truth: The king (the state) was God's vice-regent, and he (it) only had power and authority insofar as he (it) was aligned with God. The people of God are those submitted to God; if God and the king disagree, they had to obey God rather than man.

The prophetic critique did not go so far as the advocacy of rebellion. The prophet would not begin an insurrection, for the office would be honored even if the officeholder were unworthy. God himself would remove an evil king, for as [God] had appointed, so [God] could remove.

The prophet remained content with naming the consequences of the evil, calling for repentance, and in some cases instructing the pious not to cooperate with state policy (e.g. Jeremiah 29, 38). In a state not submitted to God, the prophet remembered that God is the true ruler and that any patriotism which is not first and foremost a submission to God is demonic; yet the prophet also knew that God was big enough to take care of the situation.

In the context of disappointment with the actual state, both the prophets and the Psalms hold out the prospect of an ideal state, partially as a promise of what God will do in the future (i.e. an eschatological kingdom) and partially as a standard against which to measure the actual, present monarch. The ideal state (king) in this view is humble, submitted to God. Its function is to lead the people in submission to God and to create a climate of peace and justice. It does the latter by defending the land against invaders and by defending the rights of the poor. The degree to which the poor are cared for is the measure of the state.

The Intertestamental Period
Between 400 B.C. and A.D. 30 the Jewish nation developed in ways which color the New Testament. The most prominent experience of this period was that of the state as persecutor and oppressor. This lesson was primarily learned under the Seleucid king Antiochus IV Epiphanes (167-164 B.C.), who proscribed Jewish practice on pain of death; but later Hasmonean priest-kings (Jews who had led a successful war of liberation) and Roman governors (A.D. 6-41,44-66), as well as the Herods, were seen as oppressors. Oppressive laws, oppressive taxes, and capricious justice were the rule. It seemed to many during this period that the state had turned totally demonic.

Several responses were possible. Most pious people probably followed what became the Pharisaic response: Remain faithful to God; suffer as needed; pray to God for divine intervention.

Some pious people did not believe that faithfulness was possible in the society influenced by the corrupt state; they withdrew to the desert to await the divine intervention. These were the Essenes, who wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Both groups had taken part in the war of liberation against Antiochus but had become disillusioned about the (in their eyes) worldly and ungodly policies and ambitions of the Hasmonean victors. They were now basically hostile to the state but did not believe that direct action to overthrow it was proper, at least not yet. God had to take the initiative; their job was to prepare a righteous people for whom or with whom [God] could act. They waited in passive resistance. (When war broke out in A.D. 66, they believed that the time had come to act: The Essenes perished in the conflagration, and the Pharisees eventually emerged chastened, returning to their previous pacifist position for a generation.)

A third group of Jews believed that the time for direct action had come in 167 B.C. These Hasmoneans led a war of liberation, scoffing at the scruples of the more pietistic groups and their limited goals. But after they had succeeded in gaining political freedom, they in turn became the oppressors of the pious, although the Hasmoneans quite naturally saw the situation differently. They continued to control the high priesthood throughout the New Testament period, even after losing much of their political authority. Under the Romans and the Herods they (now called Sadducees) had their power, influence, and wealth. For them the status quo was fine; the kingdom had already come. No future hope was necessary, for any change would doubtless mean their loss of power and wealth.

This powerful conservative group naturally generated a more radical group sympathizing with the landless poor and small landholders, which saw in the submission of their leaders to the Herods and the Romans a betrayal of the original revolution and of the divine constitution of Israel. These Zealots demanded freedom now; compromise was anathema; a new war of liberation was necessary. Their guerrilla tactics combined with Roman incompetence to lead to the final cataclysm of A.D. 66-70.

Quiet suffering, retreat, embracing the status quo, or rebellion: These were the Jewish options in relationship to the state. In the midst of this painful situation flowered a messianic vision. A true king would come, and he would drive out the oppressors, purifying the people. He would set up a just government, which would defend the poor and establish pure religion. Thus the ideal of the state was affirmed, even though one could not affirm or even accept the particular form of the state under which one lived.

When the Messiah comes, he will bring justice. All laws will be perfect; all courts will be fair; all rewards will be equitable. The state can be embraced, even if the time is not now. This was the complex situation into which Jesus came.

The New Testament
There are four basic statements about the state in the New Testament: the life of Jesus, the Acts of the Apostles, Pauline-type descriptions of duties (Romans 13, 1 Peter 2, Titus 3:1-2), and the Revelation to John. Here we will deal with Jesus' remarks about the state.

Jesus' attitude toward the state might be termed one of respectful disregard. Neither he nor his precursor John saw himself as anything less than a messenger of a higher authority with respect to whom king and governor were mere subjects. It was for boldly treating them in this manner that John lost his life (Mark 6:18), and Jesus did not fear to speak publicly on the same sensitive topic (Mark 10:1-11).

In his cleansing of the temple, Jesus disregarded the authority of the high priest, who had issued the permits to do business there. The records we possess show that Jesus remained silent before the Sanhedrin, Herod, and Pilate, except when God's name and higher authority were invoked. Jesus stood before a higher tribunal by which acquittal was sure.

In the Johannine account, Jesus' attitude is clear: While he said, "My kingdom is not of this world," he also stated, "You would not have any power over me except it were given you from above." His kingdom and his power are so much above Pilate that Pilate's actions and the battles of this age, including the possibility of violence on his behalf, are virtually irrelevant.

In dealing with government officials, Jesus and John showed a similar attitude. In Jewish eyes, the tax collectors and mercenary soldiers (there were no Roman legions in Palestine, but rather Syrian and even Jewish mercenary auxiliary troops) were traitors to the national cause and thus traitors to God. When such came to John, he ignored the question of whether the taxes (in many cases customs duties) were just or unjust, or whether the government was legitimate (its legitimacy at that time was purely the result of coercion), and rather focused on how they carried out their duties, i.e. without injustice, extortion, or greed (Luke 3:12-14).

Jesus similarly received tax collectors (cf. Luke 19:1-10, where forsaking wealth and injustice are Zacchaeus' actions), healed the servant of a centurion (and marveled at his faith), and dealt respectfully with Samaritans. In doing this Jesus simply refused to let God be identified with the national cause. He also refused to let his own identity as a Jew be a significant part of his self-concept; nor would he allow the Jewish national cause to be identified with God's action in history. The kingdom of God is bigger and greater than all that.

Jesus was not unaware of the character of the rulers of his day. Pilate's bloody deeds were not unknown to him (Luke 13:1-5), nor was he deceived about the nature of Herod: "Go tell that fox..." (indicating either Herod's slyness or his inconsequentiality), he replied to those who reported that Herod was out to kill him (Luke 13:32).

But despite their evil, rulers were not of ultimate importance to him, nor should they be to his disciples (who, according to Matthew 10, are to witness to such and to be persecuted by them in turn). The kingdom of God is a higher loyalty, relativizing all earthly loyalties. All must repent: king and commoner, Roman and Jew, Pharisee and outcast, priest and Levite. God's law makes human law irrelevant; God's power makes human power inconsequential.

This belief has a further implication. Since human power is inconsequential in the light of God's kingdom, human pretensions to power are simply games, evil games full of pride and violence. "Those seeming to rule the nations lord it over them and their great ones exercise authority," Jesus said. Furthermore, this whole model is so out of accord with God's kingdom that it is unfit to be copied by Jesus' followers: "It shall not be thus among you, but whoever wants to become great among you, will be your servant and whoever will be first among you, will be slave of all" (Mark 10:42-43). Jesus modeled a countercultural lifestyle that made all the authority structures of the world irrelevant for his disciples.

In this context we can understand the two direct statements that Jesus made about government. The first is the incident of the temple tax (Matthew 17:24-27), which was a tax supporting the Jewish legal establishment (the high priest being the highest Jewish government official) and which, as an interpretation of the Pentateuch, related to Jesus' identity as a Jew. In his discussion, Jesus insisted that he and his disciples were "sons" of the true ruler of the temple and thus rightfully free of his tax. But Jesus paid the tax anyway "to avoid giving them something to stumble over." The money was inconsequential--that was his attitude toward money in general--so it might as well be paid to clear away any possible obstacles to seeing the true issues in Jesus' ministry.

The other incident is that of the tribute to Caesar (Mark 12:13-17). Jesus was invited to decide between two competing national authorities, the rights of the "legitimate" government (the de facto authority, for the past 100 years) and the rights of the just revolution, the hope of a nation for freedom from oppression. Jesus asked for a coin and was shown a silver denarius minted outside Palestine, upon which Tiberius Caesar's picture appeared along with the inscription, "Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus, augustus, high priest."

Jesus' reaction to this challenge reveals two of his typical attitudes. First, ignoring the question of whether Jews should use or should have to use such coins at all (they were allowed to mint only copper coins) and displaying his typical disdain for money and its power, he stated, "Give to Caesar that which is Caesar's," implying, "His name's upon it, isn't it? If it is really his, give it back." Then, penetrating to the ultimate issue, he adds, "Give to God what is God's."

Since humans are in the image of God, they owe themselves, their total allegiance to God (this is also the message of the context in which the story appears). Thus in the end the point is not about taxes at all--something bigger is at stake. Radical obedience is the demand, a call that shatters and relativizes both Jewish revolutionary nationalism and Roman imperial realism. Jesus knows only a tertium quid, a third thing, a new and higher loyalty.

Peter H. Davids was associate professor of Biblical Studies at Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry in Ambridge, Pennsylvania, when this article appeared.