Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A (2026) - Fr Anthony Walsh, OP

The celebrated reply of Jesus to the Pharisees and Herodians, “Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar — and to God what belongs to God”, is often understood as a lesson about the respective responsibilities of religion and the state. Yet there is something far more profound in our Lord's answer. It concerns not simply what we must give, but to whom we ultimately belong.

The question put to Jesus was carefully contrived. The Pharisees and Herodians, otherwise unlikely allies, sought to entrap him over the payment of taxes to the Roman emperor. If he opposed the tax, he could be accused of sedition; if he supported it, he risked alienating those who regarded Roman occupation as an offence against the sovereignty of God. 

Their approach is particularly revealing. They flatter Jesus with assurances of his integrity, his devotion to truth, and his independence of human opinion. Everything they say about him is true, yet their words conceal dishonest intentions. They profess sincerity while harbouring malice. 

Jesus, recognising their hypocrisy, asks them to produce the coin used for paying the tax. They present him with a denarius, bearing the image and inscription of the emperor. The coin itself is significant. Not only does it proclaim Roman authority, but its inscription also reflects the emperor's pretensions to divine honour. Yet the questioners themselves are quite prepared to use this coinage. 

“Whose image is this, and whose inscription?” Jesus asks. 

“Caesar's,” they reply. 

His answer is as simple as it is penetrating. Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God. 

This saying should not be reduced to a comprehensive theory of political authority. Jesus recognises the legitimate claims of earthly government, but he places them within the greater sovereignty of God. 

Indeed, this is precisely the point of the first reading. Through Isaiah, God speaks of Cyrus, the pagan ruler whom he has chosen as an instrument of his providence. Earthly rulers may exercise considerable power, even without knowing the God whose purposes they serve. But God declares unequivocally: “I am the Lord, unrivalled; there is no other God besides me.” 

The emperor's authority is therefore neither absolute nor ultimate. Caesar himself stands beneath the sovereignty of God. There is, however, a further dimension to the Gospel that the Fathers of the Church were quick to recognise. 

Tertullian, writing at the beginning of the third century, draws our attention to the image impressed upon the coin. If the coin bears Caesar's image, then it may be returned to Caesar. But what bears the image of God? The answer is found in Genesis: the human person, is created in the image and likeness of God. The coin bears Caesar's image, but we bear God's image. Caesar may claim his coin, but God claims the whole person. 

Here the Gospel moves beyond the payment of taxes to the mystery of our relationship with God. We do not merely owe God certain things, whether our possessions, our time, or the observance of his commandments. We belong to him in the very depths of our being. 

It is here that the Collect of today's Mass offers a particularly beautiful insight:

Omnipotens sempiterne Deus,

fac nos tibi semper et devotam gerere voluntatem,

et maiestati tuae sincero corde servire.

“Almighty ever-living God,

grant that we may always conform our will to yours

and serve your majesty in sincerity of heart.” 

The Latin is especially rich. The phrase devotam gerere voluntatem can be understood as bearing or carrying a will devoted to God. The verb gerere suggests more than merely performing an occasional act of obedience. It evokes the bearing of something within ourselves. 

There is almost an image of pregnancy here: carrying within us a devotion that is living and fruitful, gradually permeating the whole person. Our devotion to God is not merely something we do from time to time, but something we bear within ourselves, shaping our desires, judgments, actions, and affections. The Collect then adds semper — always. We are asking that this devoted will should become the abiding disposition of our lives. The second half of the Collect is equally significant: maiestati tuae sincero corde servire — to serve God's majesty with a sincere heart. 

Consider again the Pharisees in the Gospel. Their words honour Jesus, but their hearts are far from him. They offer the appearance of devotion without its substance. The Collect asks for precisely what they lack: sincerity of heart. Yet how are we to acquire such a devoted will and such sincerity? We cannot simply manufacture them by an effort of determination. 

Here the second reading supplies what is essential. St Paul reminds the Thessalonians that they are loved and chosen by God. The Gospel came to them not merely as words, but in power, in the Holy Spirit, and with utter conviction. 

This is the indispensable beginning of the Christian life. Before we can give ourselves to God, God has first acted within us. Before we can offer him a devoted will, his grace must transform our will. Before we can serve him with a sincere heart, the Holy Spirit must purify and strengthen that heart. 

Indeed, the Collect begins with the words fac nos — make us. We ask God to accomplish within us what we cannot accomplish unaided. God does not simply impose upon us an obligation greater than any that Caesar might demand. He gives us the grace to fulfil the very purpose for which we were created: to love and serve him freely, with our whole being. 

This is the wonderful movement of the Christian life. Created in God's image, redeemed by his Son, and transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are enabled to offer ourselves back to the one to whom we have always belonged. 

We might therefore ask ourselves whether our religion consists principally in things we do for God, or whether it has become the devoted disposition of our whole life. Do we merely offer him something of ourselves, or are we allowing his grace to claim and transform our hearts?

For Caesar may demand a coin, and the world may demand much of our time and labour. But God desires something far greater. He desires the whole person, freely and lovingly given. 

So the Church teaches us to pray that we may always bear within ourselves a will devoted to God, and serve his majesty with sincerity of heart. 

The coin bears Caesar's image. We bear the image of God. May our lives, transformed by his grace, become a worthy offering to the one whose image we bear. 

Fr Anthony Walsh, OP is the Master of Novices, assigned to St Laurence's Priory, North Adelaide, South Australia.