Slideshow image

Once, a senior Korean priest told me that a priest should not talk about politics. I did not ask him why he said that. Did he think the Church should be free from secular matters? Or had he experienced how political conversations could harm the unity of a community? People may have different idea but I think the relationship between the Church and secular politics must be understood in its own time and place.

For example, in Korea during 70s and 80s, when the country was governed by an authoritarian regime, many religious leaders stood at the forefront of the struggle against dictatorship. Carrying on that spirit, many young Korean Franciscans were politically active. During my student years, we often joined demonstrations against political corruption or participated in rallies advocating for controversial issues. At that time, I joined my peers without thinking too deeply about it.

But after I was ordained and gained more autonomy, I found myself drawn back into my comfort zone. Some of my peers became more actively involved in social justice and in challenging unjust systems. They often raised political issues in their preaching, criticizing what was happening in politics and connecting Christian values with their point of view. There was ongoing tension between the more politically progressive friars and the more traditional ones.

Personally, I rarely express a message in a political language—partly because of my personality, which tends to avoid friction and conflict, and partly because I have seen how political issues can divide a community. Yet I have often had to ask myself whether I was neglecting my duty as a priest to engage with social justice, and how I could still deliver prophetic messages without framing them explicitly politically.

Should the Church engage with social issues? Or should the Church remain separate from our secular lives? When I think of Christians at two opposite ends of this question, it seems difficult to reconcile their different views. Some, like the liberation theologians of Latin America, insist that the Christian community must stand in solidarity with the oppressed and fight against defected political system for human liberation. Others, from different denominations, focus more on saving souls, practicing charity, and preaching the Gospel to individuals.

Which approach do you think is right? I am not trying to set a trap, and the answer may not be simple. We should remember that God’s calling to the Church is delivered through the cries of real people. If people are suffering from the injustice of a system, then it becomes inevitable to address the causes of that pain and suffering. If people are struggling with a lack of depth and direction in their lives, then the Church must remind them of the spiritual life that reaches beyond what we can see.

In Jesus’ time, people were also divided into distinct religious and political groups. The Pharisees focused on religious practice based on Moses’ Law and resisted Roman occupation, hoping for Israel’s liberation through God’s providence. They might be seen as the more idealistic group. The Herodians were more realistic and pragmatic; they favoured cooperation with the Roman Empire in order to gain safety and stability for Israel. And there were also the Zealots—radical nationalists ready to fight against Roman rule.

That is why it is so striking to see, in today’s Gospel, the Pharisees and Herodians coming together as allies. Their common interest was not to receive Jesus’ confirmation of their beliefs, but to get rid of him. Jesus’ authority and influence were growing, undermining their authority, and would soon become a threat to them. So they came with a question that seemed simple but was wickedly disguised: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”

If Jesus said yes, he could appear to support Roman occupation—and therefore seem to undermine God’s sovereignty. If he said no, he could be accused of rebellion against the Roman Empire. As Jesus was becoming a centre of attention through his message and miracles, whatever he said could be used against him by various opposing groups. But Jesus does not fall into their trap. Instead, he raises their question to a higher dimension: “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

At first glance, this may sound as though Jesus is drawing a clear line between the secular and the religious: give taxes to Caesar; give worship to God. But as we reflect more deeply on his words, we realize that Jesus is teaching something much deeper. First, what are the things that belong to the emperor, and how would that be interpreted in today’s world?

In our modern world, we can think of the things that bind us within our social systems, such as our various social duties and obligations. We have responsibilities within our families, workplaces, social groups, society, and the wider world. We pay taxes, obey just laws, vote thoughtfully, work honestly, care for our families, work for the common good, and stand against injustice. We know that no system is perfect, but Jesus tells us we do our due diligence as members of society.

But then comes the second part, which leaves us with much more to consider: “Give to God the things that are God’s.” Here, Jesus is not speaking only about religion in a narrow sense. Of course, the Church belongs to God. Our prayers, our worship, our charitable works, and all that we do as a parish belong to God. But it does not stop there. As we think about it, literally, everything belongs to God: our minds, our choices, our work, our relationships, our money, our time, and our whole life in this world.

In this light, loving God and living in a secular world do not go separate from each other. As we live in society, we encounter many signs and obligations that remind us of our duties. But beyond all of them, everything bears the image of God, because God created everything. The Good News brought by Jesus cannot be reduced to either a political matter or a purely spiritual matter. Rather, Jesus’ message encompasses everything and directs it all toward something greater.

Everything we do has a purpose, and Jesus is gathering all these endpoints of our lives into one point: becoming whole, as God created us to be in His love.

Every Sunday, we come to church to meet God. But when we leave this church, we return to what we might call the emperor’s territory: bills, schedules, work, news, conversations, and decisions. Yet we do not leave God behind. We carry God’s image into every one of those places. Jesus challenges us to embody our faith in ordinary life and to transform our ordinary lives into a practice of faith.

In other words, faith does not dwell in a vacuum. No human experience can be separated from our faith. It is planted and grows in our hearts, our relationships, our work, and our daily lives. Faith is embodied in how we treat one another, how we respond to injustice, how we care for those who are struggling, and how we seek the common good. The only difference is we live our lives following Christ, trusting God, guided by the Holy Spirit.

Let us pray that we may recognize God’s image in every person, in everything, and respond to His love, and live as people who belong to God.

Fr. James Hwang