A loaded question
Sermon by Pr. Michelle Sevig on the Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost + Sunday, October 18, 2026
Have you ever been asked a loaded question? One where no matter how you answer, you're going to get yourself into trouble? Questions like, “Have you stopped picking on your little brother?” or “Have you finally quit cheating at cards?” Answer yes, and you've just admitted you were guilty in the first place. Answer no, and you're still guilty! Loaded questions are designed to make someone look bad, no matter how they respond. And they're especially effective when asked in front of an audience.
That's exactly what's happening in today's gospel. The Pharisees and Herodiansn( also Jewish) have come together to trap Jesus with a question about taxes. Now these two groups didn't agree on much. The Pharisees were concerned about faithfulness to Jewish law, and the Herodians were aligned with the political powers of Rome. But they did agree on one thing: Jesus was becoming a problem. So they begin with a little flattery. “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth.” And then comes the loaded question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”
It's a brilliant trap. If Jesus says no, he'll be accused of encouraging people to disobey Roman law. If he says yes, he'll lose the support of the Jewish people who resent Roman occupation and the taxes that support it. Either way, he's in trouble.
But Jesus doesn't take the bait. Instead, he asks them to show him the coin used to pay the tax. They produce a denarius, and Jesus asks, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” “The emperor's,” they answer. And Jesus responds, “Give therefore to the emperor, the empire, the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's.”
Sometimes I wish Jesus would just answer the question instead of giving us another question to ponder. Because what exactly belongs to the emperor? And what belongs to God? And how are we supposed to figure out the difference?
The denarius coin was stamped with the emperor's image and an inscription declaring his authority, even claiming divine status. And here are these religious leaders, standing in the Temple, producing a coin that bears the image of someone claiming to be divine. Jesus exposed their hypocrisy without saying another word and he shifts the conversation from a question about taxes to a question about belonging. If the emperor's image is on the coin, then the coin belongs to the emperor. But what bears God's image? We do. According to the first chapter of Genesis every human being is created in the image of God. Caesar's image may be stamped on a coin, but God's image is imprinted on us.
We are God's currency in the world. Not because of what we accomplish or how much we're worth by the world's standards, but because we belong to God. We are stamped with God's unconditional grace, coined to be bearers of divine mercy. And unlike the coins in our pockets, which get spent and exchanged and sometimes lost between the couch cushions, God's image in us cannot be erased. Not by our failures or our doubts, not by our differences or disagreements, not even by the powers that claim authority over our lives.
And yet, it's complicated, because we live in a world where we have responsibilities to both God and country. Martin Luther talked about God's work in two realms, sometimes called the two kingdoms. God works through the church, through the proclamation of the gospel and the gifts of grace. And God also works through the structures of society and government to provide order, protect neighbors, and promote the common good. Of course, Luther's understanding doesn't mean that everything governments do is good, or that the church always gets things right. Both church and government can be instruments of good, and both can cause tremendous harm.
Can you be faithful to God and also be a responsible citizen? That’s not a loaded question. It's a question that seems especially important in our deeply divided political climate. Religion and politics are two subjects we're often told not to discuss at the dinner table or from the pulpit.
But Jesus doesn't give us permission to separate our faith from the way we live in the world (that’s politics). Loving our neighbors has implications for how we organize our communities, how we care for vulnerable people, and how we participate in public life. Elections matter because our neighbors matter. I think that's a helpful way to understand our civic responsibilities. Voting isn't simply about what benefits me or my family. It's also about the well-being of our neighbors, including those whose lives and experiences are very different from our own.
And that doesn't mean Christians will always agree about the best way forward. We won't. We can share the same faith, read the same scriptures, pray the same prayers, and still reach different conclusions about public policy. But we can disagree without treating one another as enemies. We can listen with curiosity rather than contempt. We can seek truthful information rather than simply repeating what reinforces our opinions. We can remember that the person across the political aisle bears the same image of God that we do.
Jesus doesn’t ask us to choose between loving God and caring about our country. He's inviting us to see our responsibilities in a new way. Our faith doesn't tell us which political party to join or which candidate deserves our vote. But our faith does shape the questions we ask, the values we bring, and the ways we treat one another. It calls us to look beyond the face on the coin and see the faces of our neighbors. The faces of those who are hungry or hurting, those who are frightened or forgotten, those who are struggling to make ends meet, and even those whose opinions we find difficult to understand.
We are God's currency in the world. Our voices, our hands, our time, our talents, our possessions—all can become instruments of God's love and mercy. When we advocate for justice, when we serve our neighbors, when we participate thoughtfully in civic life, when we choose compassion over contempt, we are putting that currency into circulation. Not to earn God's favor, but because God's grace has already been poured into our lives.
So give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God. And remember, you belong to God. You have been marked with the cross of Christ in baptism, sealed by the Holy Spirit, and claimed as God's beloved child. No political party, no government, no earthly power can make a greater claim on your life than the God who created you, redeemed you, and continues to work through you for the sake of the world.
We bear God's image. We belong to God. And by God's grace, we are empowered to reflect that image in all we say and do. Amen.