Whose Image Do You Bear?
Sermon by The Rev. Hannah Wilder preached on October 18, 2026 at St. Paul’s, Year A, Proper 24.
Jesus is in trouble again.
If you’ve been following the Gospel readings these past few Sundays, you’ve probably noticed that the tension is rising. Jesus has entered Jerusalem, and he is having one confrontation after another with the religious and political authorities.
And today, they’ve come up with what they think is the perfect trap. The Pharisees send some disciples to ask Jesus a seemingly simple question: Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not? Now, this isn’t really a question about taxes. It’s a question about power. And allegiance. And whose authority ultimately governs our lives.
If Jesus says “yes, pay your taxes,” he risks alienating the Jewish people who are suffering under Roman occupation. If he says no, he’s advocating rebellion against Rome.
Either way, somebody’s going to be angry. But Jesus doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he asks them to show him a coin.
“Whose image is this?” he asks. “The emperor’s,” they answer.
And Jesus says, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” And they are amazed.
Now, I think we sometimes misunderstand this passage. We hear Jesus dividing life into two neat categories: political things belong to the government, and spiritual things belong to God. Pay your taxes, go to church, and keep the two separate.
But I don’t think that’s what Jesus is saying at all. Because underneath his answer is a much bigger question. If the coin bears Caesar’s image, what bears God’s image? And the answer, of course, is WE DO! You do. I do. Every single human being who has ever lived bears the image of God.
And today, we have the extraordinary joy of celebrating that truth in the baptism of Annie Rae. In just a little while, we will gather around the font, pour water over Annie Rae, and proclaim that she is sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. Forever.
Not until she misbehaves. Not until she starts asking difficult questions. Not until she grows up and believes the right things or makes the right choices. Forever.
Annie Rae already belongs to God. She has belonged to God from the moment she came into being. Baptism doesn’t make her worthy of God’s love. Baptism celebrates the love that has been hers all along.
And the same is true for every one of us.
Before we accomplished anything, before we earned a dollar, before we could prove our usefulness or our goodness, we were already beloved.
We already bore God’s image. And that changes everything. Because if every human being bears God’s image, then every human being deserves to be treated with dignity. Not just the people we like. Not just the people who agree with us. Not just the people who can afford to contribute or have something to offer. Everyone.
And this is where Jesus’ answer becomes a whole lot more challenging.
Because Caesar’s world, the world of empire, and our world, is organized around accumulating wealth and power for a few. Resources flow upward. Some people prosper enormously while others struggle to survive.
And Jesus spent his entire ministry proclaiming a different vision. A world where the hungry are fed. Where the poor are lifted up. Where the stranger is welcomed. Where the vulnerable are protected. Where everyone has what they need to thrive. Jesus called it the kingdom of heaven. And he didn’t mean some distant place we might get to someday after we die. He meant God’s dream for this world, here and now.
And that dream puts Jesus in direct conflict with the powers of his day. Because when we insist that every person matters, when we insist that resources should serve human flourishing rather than simply accumulate in the hands of the powerful, we challenge the way the world is organized.
And that’s exactly what Jesus was doing. Which brings us back to Annie Rae. In a few minutes, we’re going to renew our baptismal covenant together. And listen to what we’re going to promise.
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? I will, with God’s help.
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being? I will, with God’s help.
Those are not small promises. They are promises to live differently. To see people differently. To organize our lives around something other than our own comfort and security.
And notice that we say, “I will, with God’s help.” Because this is a lifelong practice. And we need one another. Which brings me to something else we’re doing together as a congregation. We’re in the midst of our annual pledge campaign, which this year we’re calling Plenty Good Room.
I love that phrase. Plenty good room. Room for Annie Rae. Room for the person who has been coming to St. Paul’s for fifty years. Room for the person who walks through our doors for the very first time next Sunday. Room for the person who has plenty. Room for the person who is barely getting by. Room for all of us.
And here’s what I want us to understand about our financial giving. It’s not simply about paying the church’s bills. Yes, we have bills. We have a building to maintain, staff to support, ministries to sustain, and important work to do. But stewardship is about something much deeper. It’s about asking ourselves whether the way we use our resources reflects the world Jesus calls us to create.
Because money is powerful. Money shapes our decisions, our opportunities, our relationships, and sometimes even our sense of worth. And Jesus invites us to remember that money is a tool. It is not our master. Our resources can become instruments of compassion, justice, hospitality, and hope.
And when we give to support the ministry of this church, that’s what we’re investing in. We’re investing in a community where people are fed, where children are welcomed, where people find companionship in loneliness, where grief is met with tenderness, and where everyone is reminded that they are beloved. We’re investing in a little corner of God’s kingdom, right here in Sparks, Nevada.
Now, I’m not asking you to make your pledge today. Our ingathering will be November 15, four weeks from now. Between now and then, I invite you to pray. To reflect. To talk with the people in your household. To consider what generosity might look like in this season of your life. Not out of guilt. Not out of obligation. And certainly not because your worth in this community depends on what you give.
It doesn’t. Your worth was established long before you ever walked through these doors. But because you belong to God, and because you are part of this community, I invite you to consider how your resources might help make God’s dream more real.
Today, Annie Rae will receive a gift she can never earn and never lose. She will be marked as Christ’s own forever. And we will promise to help her grow into the fullness of that belonging. That’s what the church is for. To help one another remember whose image we bear. To help one another live as though every person bears that same image. And to build, together, a community where there is plenty good room for everyone.
So give Caesar his coins, if you must. But give God what belongs to God. Your heart. Your hands. Your courage. Your compassion. Your resources. Your life. Because you bear the image of God. And so does Annie Rae. And so does everyone we will ever meet.