On Wednesday I read an article about fans of the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team jeering rival players that were displayed on their arena scoreboard. Considering even my subdued passion for sports teams, I can understand the fitful reaction. Caught in the contest's frenzy, I might have behaved in a similar bass way. For having disliked the Broad Street Bullies since my beloved Islanders were still a major threat on the ice - harking back at least 25 years - had I recognized them in my home venue, my blood might begin to boil. Unfortunately, the reason for the unwelcomed Philadelphia response was a public service announcement in support of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. During a break in play, the solicitation for donations by the worthy cause sent the crowd into knee-jerk apoplexy. The reaction was seen as crass even if they weren't booing the anti-cancer charity itself. Their loyalty, common to many non-sports scenarios as well, was unequivocal for they knew who's side they were on.
Sometimes we're questioned on where we stand. Are we for the team or not? In cases like the one above, it's not always easy to be clear in our priorities. When Lorraine called me at work on Thursday saying she arrived in Yosemite after a long drive, I sensed that there was something lingering and all was not completely well. She didn't offer much information because she understood from my harried tone that I was under a pressing deadline. Two important items were competing for my attention and I had to choose. Regretfully, my job took precedence over my familial obligations. But how was I to care for both? I had to make a choice.
That's what happens in the gospel narrative this morning. Jesus is confronted with a deliberate quandary: Where do you place your allegiance, the inquisitor's chortle their crafty ply, do you support the political state or not? Their scheme was perfectly deceptive and there was no pat answer. Both a yes or a no comeback were wrong. The teacher would have to implicate himself one way or the other. If he chooses one, it's heresy, the other and he's indicted for treason. Either way he loses. So they press to know who's side he's playing for.
We often make definitive "life or death" distinctions in our situations. It's easier, less confusing, and safer to limit the possibilities to either "A" or "B". Yet perhaps we are not dealing with two alternatives in conflict, but rather two options in tension. Could it be that we don't have to take sides? Thus the Christly reply: Choose both. Jesus implies that you can't contain god in a box, selecting or dismissing it with a yes or no choice. The spirit is bigger than we can know and can't simply be divided or pinned down. Radically, it isn't the government or god, it's both and more.
There is a lot of talent fighting for ice time in the game of life. We can react from our projected prejudices, hissing at hated enemies all the while missing the divine intent behind the message. Or, as Jesus tells us, that everything is sacred and nothing can be left out. Today's story presents an Imperial coin which bears the image of the political deity, demanding that we pay homage to society's leaders and laws; yet the mark of god is indelible in each of us, and therefore deference is due to the one above all others. To determine which side your on is ultimately not a toss of the coin, but two sides of the same.
love, always,
pia
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