Whose Image?: Mark 12:13-17

They sent Pharisees and Herodians—strange bedfellows united only by hatred of Jesus. The Pharisees resented Roman occupation; the Herodians collaborated with it. Together they crafted a perfect trap.

"Teacher, we know that you are a man of integrity. You aren't swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are; but you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth."

The flattery dripped like honey over poison.

"Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not? Should we pay or shouldn't we?"

If Jesus said yes, he would alienate the crowds who hated Roman taxation—funding their own oppression. If he said no, the Herodians would report him to Pilate as a revolutionary.

"Why are you trying to trap me?" Jesus asked. "Bring me a denarius and let me look at it."

They produced the coin. Jesus held it up.

"Whose image is this? And whose inscription?"

"Caesar's."

Everyone knew what the coin said: Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus. The image of a man who claimed to be god, pressed into silver.

"Give back to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's."

The answer was neither yes nor no. It was a reframing. Caesar could have his coins, his taxes, his temporary empire. But what bore God's image? What belonged ultimately to God?

Humans. Every human being stamped with the image of their Creator. The coin belonged to Caesar. The people holding the coins belonged to God.

They were amazed at him. The trap had caught only air. And Jesus had said something far more radical than tax policy—he had reminded them that empires rise and fall, but the image of God remains.