Sermons – October 2026

Two questions from today’s scriptures;
Moses asks God – “Are you travelling with us, or not?” (Exodus 33)
And from the Gospel of Matthew: “Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not? (Matthew 22)
Different contexts, different conversations –
held together perhaps by an underlying question: Where do our loyalties lie?

Last weekend, an encounter with a grandad gone gooey;
gooey over the birth of his new granddaughter.
He, a lifelong fan of a particular football club in the northeast of England.
Before our meet-up he had spent a blissful hour
browsing through the football club’s souvenir shop –
hunting something special for the child, now one week old.
Thrilled to find a range of children’s ware –
that echoed his team’s new away strip.
It is distinctively pink and black; stitched in the collar the words: “Wise men say.”
It is inspired by Elvis Presley. Huh?

A little explanation.
Before kick-off on match day at Sunderland AFC, the tannoy system blares out:
“Wise men say: Only fools rush in: 
But I can’t help falling in love with you”
A brief, noisy, joyous salute,
sung simultaneously by some thirty to forty thousand fans,
voices and arms raised,
encouragement to the team; declaration of loyalty,
moment of solidarity, a colour-coordinated sea of belonging.
Visible sign of an invisible grace?

Anthems, club memorabilia and match day rituals – generation to generation –
ways and means to build and sustain loyalties.
The beautiful game may not be your thing, but still the question:
Where do our loyalties lie?

In Matthew the famous encounter in what we know as Holy Week.
Jerusalem’s Temple; question from the religious authorities
designed to topple him into a trap.
What is your opinion Teacher?
Is it against our Law to pay taxes to the Roman emperor or not?”

At the heart of the Jewish religious world,
the wider reality, the shadow of Rome’s eagle – an occupied state.
One clear and galling demonstration of Roman power –
the collection of the tribute/poll tax –
a single coin, one denarius from each adult, each year.
Most likely the coin in question bore the image of the emperor Tiberius
who ruled Rome during those years (AD 14–37).
Hence the virus in the question: To pay or not to pay?

If Jesus declares, Lawful. Pay up, he is compromised – collaborator, a Quisling –
condoning foreign power and imperial divine status;
a tacit approval of oppression and blasphemy.
If Jesus declares, Unlawful. Do not pay.
He condemns himself; civil disobedience to a lawful authority.
And everyone knows how Rome deals with sedition.

Jesus’ response: “Show me the money”
Apparently, he doesn’t carry it, whereas his accusers do.
The ground begins to shift – not yet their intended checkmate.
“Whose image is this?” “The Emperor’s.”
“Well then, give to the Emperor what belongs to the Emperor
and give to God what belongs to God.”

Jesus does not legislate a regulation about a specific tax;
doesn’t say, there are two distinct realms,
religious and secular, somehow separate.
Does not deny obligations and duties toward public authorities.
We are after all connected to those who govern
and the policies they foster. We are engaged in society.
Rather, he asks us to take stock:
what are our balances of daily priorities and ultimate allegiances.
Jesus surely recognises that we hold loyalties to a family, a football club,
a congregation, a nation – often sources of our best living.
But reminds they are not the ultimate allegiance – his unvoiced verdict:
The claims of God, outrank the pretensions of Caesar.
Where do our loyalties lie?

In contrast to the Gospel, the older Exodus tale
interrogates, not human loyalties, but divine ones.
A wondrously strange encounter:
From the luxuries of being raised an Egyptian prince,
to the flight of exile following a homicide;
from the intensity of burning bush
to nighttime escape under cover of the Passover.
Moses knows something of life’s us and downs.
Then, the wilderness wandering.
His companions, a regularly unimpressed caravan of complainers.
Moses where is our food, where our water.
Why have you led us on this false trail.
Egypt was better than this – the hark back to mis-remembered, good old days.
When his back was turned, they sculpted a golden calf –
preferring gods of their own creation,
to the one Moses was called by.
Which is all preamble to today’s passage: Exodus 33.
It begins with Moses in belligerent mood:
Lord, remember you said to me, “Bring up this people”;
but you have not let me know whom you will send with me.
Yet, you tell me: “I know you by name, and you have also found favour in my sight.”
Well which is it God? – favour in your sight, or obscurity,
the unknown, unaccompanied path.
Are you travelling with us or not?
A rebuke to the Almighty?
Response: “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
Divine Reassurance.

Moses it seems is not entirely listening:
“If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here.
For how shall it be known that I have found favour in your sight,
I and your people, unless you go with us?
Again: Are you travelling with us or not?

A second reassurance: “I will do the very thing that you have asked;
for you have found favour in my sight, and I know you by name.”
God reasserts Moses’ own words.

Then Moses pleads/demands? “Show me your glory, I pray.”
Give me some proof. Help me out here.
Assure me this is not some extended madness, a Promised Land delusion.
“Are you travelling with us or not?
Where do your loyalties lie?”
It is the irreverent, but deeply human question
that surely all people of faith will ask, at some stage along our journey –
in a moment of disappointment or failure, or season of loss or despair.

Moses asks about glory, God offers goodness:
“I will make all my goodness pass before you,
and will proclaim before you the name, “The Lord”;
and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious,
and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.”

In other words: Yes, I will be with you.
Yes, you … are where my loyalties lie.
BUT … But, you cannot have all you ask.
That would be too much – even for you Moses.
There is something in me that, unveiled,
would simply detonate you out of existence.
But this I will give you:
“… while my goodness passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock,
and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by;
then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back;
but my face shall not be seen.”

(Moses asks to behold God’s glory; God chooses to show him God’s goodness;
A goodness that is always moving ahead, inviting us to follow.)

Loyalties or lies?
Do we trust that God’s loyalties lie with us?
And do our loyalties lie with God?

Let me return to the day of baby grow football kit and proud grandparent.
The day we met we went to see the match that afternoon.
“Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you.”
We got the raucous ritual rendition:
arms aloft, our expression of loyalty.

After the game, I took the metro back to Newcastle,
in preparation for the morning service at St Andrew’s, our linked charge.
Peripheral knowledge of either football, or the northeast,
will inform you that Sunderland and Newcastle fans are not a convivial mix.
Indeed, as I passed through the Newcastle station
a complete stranger pointed to the shred of Sunderland scarf (that I thought I had concealed):
warned me: “Ya cannot wear that here.”
I pulled coat collar tight.

But then something unexpected.
On the last leg of my journey, I bumped into a family member – completely randomly.
She was with her partner, who I had never met.
It became apparent that he and I had both been at the same Sunderland game that afternoon;
though he is a Newcastle fan.
How come you were there? I asked.
“I was a guest of the Sunderland Supporters Association.
Really?
Yes, I work at the Civic Museum in Sunderland
and I was asked to give a talk last week about the Football Club.
Tough gig? I suggested – imaging the customary antipathy between fans.
“Well actually I was able to remind them that those feelings
are really only an invention of the 1970’s.
Before that it was perfectly possible to cheer for both teams.”
Later, there was old timer confirmation:
We went to see Sunderland one week,
and Newcastle the next. No problem.”

Apparently, loyalties can evolve – for better or worse?
Doors of possibility, opening or shutting.
That is our humanity at work – for richer, for poorer.
But our own varied and varying loyalties
are held in the light of one unchanging promise:
“My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
From the God who journeys with us:
and in whose son’s face, we glimpse the sacrificial loyalty
that invites us all to be holy fools,
prepared to rush in;
who can’t stop falling in love,
for the sake of the world and its Maker.