United Presbyterian Church of West Orange

 

“In Relationship”

October 18, 2026

Rev. Rebecca Migliore

 

       “Render unto Ceasar what is Ceasar’s and to God what is God’s,” says Jesus.  Which might be the basis for the incorrect idea that Jesus wasn’t interested in the financial, economic, political, and physical world as we know it.  A split between the marketplace and the temple, between the political and the religious, between our lives in our world and our lives with God.  But that doesn’t understand exactly what Jesus has been talking to us about for most of this year—that God doesn’t see this either/or, that God is breaking into this world, that what we often call, the religious, the temple, the church, our lives with God, is being called to step it up.  To become part of the reign of God in this world, on this earth, as it is in heaven.

       These people who were trying to trick Jesus into getting in trouble either with the Roman authorities or the people who were following him might have been asking the wrong question—in my eyes.  Or, failed to ask the all important follow-up question.  Give to Ceasar what is Ceasar’s and to God what is God’s.  And my mind immediately goes to: Well, what is God’s?  Or more likely, what isn’t God’s?  In other words, that age-old question: What is it we are supposed to give to God?  What does the Lord require of us?

       Now we could fall back on the Levitical answer—a tithe, a tenth of what we earn should go to the temple, to take care of the priests and the machinery of worship.  To most of us, that is a stretch.  But I think Jesus might have said—what do you owe to God?  Everything.  Look at that poor woman putting her two small coins into the treasury; she gave everything.

      That is what we owe God.  Or we could look to Micah’s answer—live as God would have us, doing justice, loving mercy, (following God in our lives, and walking humbly with God as well).

     Once again, it looks like nothing is outside of the sphere of what we owe God.  It encompasses everything we do, everything we say, who we are.  That is what we owe God.

 

       So what is the real answer to the question, What do we owe God?  Is it “give what we can”?  Is it “one tenth of what we have”?  Is it “everything, our all”?  Is it somewhere in between?  And how do we give anything to the Ceasars of the world if we give it all to God?  A real conundrum, a perfect puzzle.  And so, we might be tempted to just throw up our hands and say, well, there’s no way of knowing what we are supposed to do, so we just won’t try.

       Almost the exact opposite of what we were talking about last week, that when we come to the banquet, we are supposed to have our wedding clothes on—we are supposed to be as ready as we can be to come before the King’s throne.  So, I think that we can spend a little time musing on what Jesus meant when he said to give to God what is God’s.

       We are not the first people to have contemplated this question.  And in fact, in Jesus’ Scriptures, in what we call the Old Testament, there are two tracts of providing an answer to it.  The Torah, the first five books of our Old Testament, lay out a story about God and God’s people.  And then, define, in multitudinous detail, the way that we can give to God what is God’s—often called “The Law.”  This law talked about what to eat and what not to eat, about how to behave towards others and towards God, about when to work and when to rest, and hundreds of other life defining ways of acting and being. 

       This wasn’t a punishment, at least that’s what the Torah said, but a help, an advice book, a way of making sure that you kept on the right side of God, that you gave God what God was due, and that was how you knew that you were doing the right thing—that you were righteous.  Because, it was a privilege to be chosen as God’s people, and it was a responsibility to live up to—and this was the way to do that, said the lawyers, and the priests, and the Pharisees, and the Sadducees, and all those who followed this road to living with their God.

       Now, in case, we think that this approach was the only one in Jesus’ thinking—we have only to remember that the prophets, whether they be major (like Isaiah) or minor (like Micah), were not satisfied with this answer to the question, “what does the Lord require of us?”

      In fact, many of these prophets, in their own ways, heard God saying that God despised this way of living—these feasts, these offerings, and this nit-picking of each and every action.  God didn’t want that.  God wanted God’s law to be written upon each and every heart.  God wanted a new and right spirit to inhabit each and every breast.  God didn’t want people to be contained in a strong box, but to be freed to be in close relationship with God, because they wanted to, because they wanted to love God as God had loved them.  That was the way to give back to God what was “owed.”  (If that even was the right way to think about it--as a financial transaction).

       You can see that Jesus is much more in the tradition of the prophets, and wrestles with the law and order side of his heritage.  But I think that Jesus is pressing the issue further.  He does things like reimagining what we call God.  From the unspeakable name (so we use the term God, or The Lord as a substitute) to instructing his disciples to call God “Abba,” which we have translated Father, but it is more like, Daddy.  You can imagine how that went over.  Or insisting on the fact that God wasn’t just way out there, as far away from us as possible, in the clouds, above the mountains, but God was right here, God’s intention for our world was already starting to appear.  And so all those kin[g]dom parables—trying to retrace, to enlarge, to reformulate, the vision of who God is and how we are to be in relationship with this God, what is it that we owe God, and God requires of us.

       Jesus isn’t satisfied with a pie in the sky, by and by, vision like that of the Revelation of John, where God’s people stand before the throne, throwing their crowns at the Lamb’s feet, and singing, “Amen, Blessing and glory and majesty and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might, to our God, forever and ever.  Amen.”  No, I think that Jesus might have wanted more for us.  Wanted us to follow in the footsteps of one of the most revered people in the Old Testament—Moses.

       When God and God’s people were getting to know each other, God was too scary, too powerful, too much for God’s people.  Yes, they worshipped God, they sang wonderful things about what God had done (especially freeing them from their time in Egypt as slaves).

 

 

     But they wanted God to stay on God’s side of the line.  Pillar of Cloud and Pillar of Fire, okay.  But when God started talking about responsibilities, about commandments, they were just as happy to have Moses go up onto the mountain, into the clouds, to talk to God alone—and then Moses could come down and talk to them.

       You would have thought that that would have been enough for Moses.  I mean, he was the only one to be talking to God.  His word became law, literally!  He was put on a pedestal, covering his face, because he had been in the presence of the Almighty, and it made his face shine.  But that wasn’t enough for Moses.  He felt confident enough in his relationship with God to ask for a favor.  God, I want to see you face to face.

       Can you imagine?  God could have gotten mad and thrown a lightning bolt and no more Moses.  But God and Moses had a relationship, they were a team, they were trying to build this rag-tag group of people into a favored nation, a chosen people, God’s own.  And so, God heard Moses’ plea.  What did God hear?  Maybe it was something like, “I want to be closer to you, I want to know you better, I want to be so near that I could see you face to face, that I could understand you, look you in the eye, see myself reflected in you—that’s how much I love you, and I ask because I know you love me too.”

       The answer wasn’t an unconditional yes.  The idea of standing face to face with God was laughable—no one on this side of the veil could do it and live.  Wouldn’t our minds be blown with God’s knowledge?  Wouldn’t our eyes burn out seeing God’s brightness?  Wouldn’t our hearts burst from being so full of God’s love and grace?  Silly Moses.  That just can’t be.  But…and I think we see here what Jesus was getting at.  “But I, God, I want you closer to me.  I want you to see me more clearly, love me more dearly, follow me more nearly, day by day.”  So God said to Moses, “You can’t see me face to face, but I will hide you in a cleft of a rock, and then I will let you see my afterglow, my backside, what I leave in my wake.”  And that’s what God did for Moses.

 

       And I think, in some ways, that is what Jesus wants for us as well.  For us to want that relationship with God so much, that we would ask for the moon, and get what God is able to give, because God loves us so.  I think Jesus was probably thinking, “Don’t you get it yet?  It isn’t about dollars and cents, it isn’t about coins, it isn’t about doing this or doing that to try to be perfect.  What does God want from us?  A relationship.  With all the highs and lows, all the misunderstandings and make-ups, all the joy and all the heartaches, all the asking impossible things of one another, while somehow providing enough to want to do it all over again, tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

       For right now, as the apostle Paul put it, we only see in a mirror dimly, we only catch a glimpse after God has passed by, we only grasp at what we want to know.  But someday, we will see face to face; someday, we will be in the midst of it all; someday, we shall understand, as we have been understood.  That is what God wants.