If you put your hand in your pocket or maybe your bag, how many coins would you find in there?
Before I moved to Paramus, I was obsessed with quarters. I probably hoarded them. Every time I went to the corner bodega to buy a snack or drink, I made sure to bring just enough cash to guarantee that a quarter or two would be handed back to me. I needed those quarters. I wanted those quarters. And if they gave me two dimes and a nickel, I was annoyed. Quarters were a big part of my life because the laundromat down the block only took quarters. The change machine was never working when I needed it. And my fellow laundry washers would rarely make change. We all needed those quarters to make sure we could finish our duty and leave that place with clean cloths.
But, today, coins are weird. In just a few short months, coins have disappeared from my life. My previous obsession with quarters has disappeared. I no longer need them like I use to and so, in the rare time I use cash to purchase something, any coins end up in a piggy bank at home, forgotten and unused. These lovable quarters, with the face of George or maybe a mountain or flower or other state symbol – they lie in the darkness, unused and unnoticed.
Today’s text from Matthew (Matthew 22:15-22) is one of those episodes in Jesus’ life that grows the more you think about it. It’s a text that seems to support the compartmentalization of our lives. We put politics in one box and religion in another. We can then divide out what is proper to each. But Jesus’ ministry never seems to support this view of the world. He argues over and over again that trying to neatly separate areas of our life is untenable. The problem is that real life is messy and dirty. The boundaries seem to bleed through or are porous. We spend a lot of time watching our carefully separated lives blend together and what was once black and white now appears very gray. But even in the middle of this gray, there’s still one thing that matters. Even if we’re able to compartmentalize all areas of our life so that everything and everyone stays in their proper place, there is still one who breaks through all those barriers and who fails to stay inside the box we create for them. Unlike those quarters I use to hoard, God doesn’t stay in the darkness even after we feel we no longer need God. God never seems comfortable staying in the boxes we create for God. God always breaks through because that’s just what God does. It’s one way I imagine God’s grace looks like.
And if God’s breaking through the barriers and walls I and the world creates, than just what kind of world is God looking for us to build instead?
Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for 10/19/2014.