St. Paul's Episcopal Church
Brunswick, Maine

On This Labor Day Weekend

The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 26:1–8, Romans 13:1–10
Mark 12:13–27, Psalm 47

Our readings on the Labor Day Weekend address relations between church and state, a hot topic in this season of political conventions. Paul writes to the fledgling, little Christian community in Rome, “Be subject to governing authorities; civil authority is from God; pay your taxes,” then in almost the same breath he says, “Owe to no one anything, except to love one another; the one who loves has fulfilled the law.” In the gospel, Jesus is just as paradoxical on patriotism. When asked whether to pay taxes, he asks for a coin. It has Caesar’s picture and inscription. He holds it up, turns it over and says, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s; and to God the things that are God’s.”

How are we to be subject to authority and to owe no one anything, except to love one another? How are we to be patriotic and to love God? Are patriotism and love of God one and the same? Not according to Jesus in the Roman Empire. Jesus says, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” Are patriotism and the love of God sometimes related? Yes, when the power of the state creates an order for the love of God. Christ and state, church and state, are separate but intimately related.

The Amish and Quakers try to keep total separation; but even they need the protection of the state to flourish. As said of the Quakers in Philadelphia, They started out to do good, and ended up doing very well— with the responsibilities of state leadership.

The first few centuries of the church define the boundaries. Take Paul’s little Christian community in Rome. Paul first says, “Pay your taxes. Help the government keep the barbarians at bay. Practice love and the commandments among yourselves in church.” Keep church and state totally separate was the first attempt: love is in church; power is in politics. That is too neat a separation as the first Christians discovered.

The Roman government, instead of fighting the barbarians, became barbaric. They began persecuting minorities, including Christians. In the name of Christ, martyrs rose to resist the unjust power of the state. The church opposed the state. Three hundred years later, after troubles in the empire, the government, under Constantine, embraced the church, and the church accepted the embrace. Church and state were one and the same. Bishops were governors. Governors were bishops. Kings amassed armies to fight holy wars overseas in the name of Christ. States mounted Crusades to liberate lands that were no threat to the homeland.

Well... Where are we today? Churches in America are scattered little communities under many jurisdictions. In that sense we are like Paul’s little community in Rome. Seldom is anything to do with a church on the front page of the newspaper. Occasionally a bishop makes a statement that is reported, and soon forgotten. And yet, …we are still a religious nation. Politicians court the church vote. Church leaders—Martin Luther King, Father Hesburgh of Notre Dame, Paul Moore, Rabbi Heschel, William Sloane Coffin—were the force behind the civil rights movement. I’ve heard parishioners describe how, in their businesses and communities, they have stood up for fair housing and employment. If a legislator hears from more three persons on an issue, he or she pays attention. Love and power are inextricably intertwined. We may try to separate them and say, “Love is soft and tender; power is tough and strong. Love is in church, and power is in politics.” But they are always mixed and need each other.

We have the opportunity in parish life to engage in a kind of discussion and way of life that is rare, listening to one another beyond slogans and sloganeering. We can translate the love of Christ into an expression of caring nearby, greet someone on Sunday morning, share in a group during the week, respect someone with whom we disagree, search for the source of disagreement, which may come from an unhealed wound. It is a costly service. Such service is the price of true freedom, which is the mutuality of care, the joy of common service, not the freedom to do anything we want.

I am tired of hearing from both presidential candidates how tough they are. OK, they’re tough; and need to be tough as commander in chief. It’s up to churches to remind us we are also vulnerable, and our true strength is in sharing our vulnerability alongside our firmness. We can never win the war against terror by being tough alone. That’s like trying to win the war against violence. Tough love calls for resistance, at times with force; and thank God for our soldiers who are willing to stand on the front line. Tough love also calls for attending to, relieving, reforming the causes of violence and terror, day by day serving with Christ. We don’t win on our own. Only God working through all his suffering servants lifts us above terror.

We’re all called to make an offering; and like the loaves and fishes on the hillside touched by Christ, God promises to gather our offerings and make them into a much bigger communion. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s; and unto God what is God’s. Sometimes I wish Christ had been a more explicit in his marching orders. But then he gave us something more important—a way of life to follow. Christ walked through the hurt and conflict to reveal God’s love even in the midst of pain, and the abundance of grace on the other side. Let us follow in faith.

The Reveren Daniel Warren
September 5, 2004

May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, always be acceptable in thy sight, O God, our Strength and our Redeemer.