The text raises a question about our identity as Christians. Who are we? We have a multitude of identities. The most important ones for most of us are three: our identity within a family (as a mother, father, grandparent, child), our identity in our work or profession (as a teacher, lawyer, farmer, laborer, and now for me (retired), and thirdly our citizenship (as Americans, citizens of the State of California, residents of the city of Reedley.) If someone were to ask you who you are, you would probably say something about all three, something like the following: I am the father of two married daughters, grandfather of four grandchildren, a retired college professor, and an American citizen who lives in N. Newton, Kansas. Would I also add that I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ, a member of the body of Christ, linked to Christians all over the globe, a member of Bethel College Mennonite Church? How does this foundational identity, you could say the most important theologically, relate to all those other identities?
Most Christians, especially in America, are very confused about how their Christian identity and American identity relate to each other. I dare say that most Americans would not even see these two identities as different from each other, and certainly not in conflict with each other. We easily repeat the mantra, `` God bless America,'' recite the pledge of allegiance, ``one nation under God, '' and support the troops in the war in Iraq. Already the Puritans in the 1600's viewed their coming to the new world to establish a ``city on a hill,'' to be God ' s new Israel. From the beginning Americans have tended to conflate citizenship and religious identity. Most Christians do not even struggle with the tension between the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus calls us to love our enemies, and the vocation of the soldier to kill for security and the defense of freedom. How are Christians in America, who belong to the one, holy, universal, Catholic Church, connected with Christians in Iraq, Palestine, Indonesia, and Colombia. Does my identify as an American `` trump '' my social identity in the body of Christ, such that when I think and act, I first respond to issues and public policy as an ``American'' citizen, only secondarily as a member of the universal, trans-national body of Jesus Christ that extends over the entire globe?

We are talking about a long-standing and deep problem. The killing of fellow Christians by German, British and French citizens during the two World Wars was one of the motivating factors that led to the formation of the World Council of Churches in 1948 and to the famous statement by that body, `` Peace is the Will of God. ''

A Biblical/Theological Perspective on Identity
Let me first set out several ideas about how I think theologically about our dual citizenship. By dual citizenship I mean, on the one hand, the call of God and our decision, symbolized by baptism, to belong to a real social body, the church. And on the other hand our citizenship of the state into which we were born, citizens of the U.S in the state of California.
To get our bearings theologically, we need to go back to the story of Abraham in the Old Testament who God calls from his kindred in order to be a blessing to the nations. This `` call'' of Abraham is a revolutionary idea, because it establishes the people of God as a people among the nations, a people not identified by what they are born into--blood, nationality, or race. The call of Abraham stands in juxtaposition to the story of the Tower of Babel, a story of mankind's attempt to rule and dominate the entire world. One could say that Babel represents the first Empire in human history. God ' s answer to empire is a plurality of peoples, viewed in the Bible, I believe, as a blessing, not a curse as the story is often interpreted. God ' s answer to Empire is a pluralism of peoples, languages and cultures in the world. The Babel story reflects a Hebrew prophetic perspective, a critique of the oppressive empires of Egypt Assyria, and Babylon. So in the midst of a plurality of cultures, God calls a people to be a blessing among the nations.

This point of view reaches its high point in the Old Testament with the prophet, Jeremiah, who wrote at the time of the exile, after the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians. Instead of despair over the loss of Jerusalem the capital, and the nation of Judah, Jeremiah wrote a hopeful letter to the exiles in Babylon. In Babylon, in the midst of Empire, he admonishes the Hebrews to be faithful as the people of God. His most significant statement is that they, `` seek the welfare (the word is shalom in Hebrew or `` peace '' ) of the city where you dwell, for in its welfare you will find your own welfare.'' What a remarkable notion. The people of God are to be a blessing by seeking the well-being of their enemies. He tells them not to yearn to return home to Jerusalem, but to establish roots in Babylon, to marry and have children, to hew out cisterns and plant gardens. There are four themes in this text which I believe are helpful background to interpreting Jesus statement in Matthew 22. The four themes are: 1. remember your identity as the people of God (you worship Yahweh; and you mark your identity by Sabbath observance); 2. as the people of God you are a cosmopolitan social body, not restricted by your identity with one empire, but a people within many nations; 3. nevertheless, establish deep roots in the land; and 4. remember your mission to be a blessing: seek the well-being of the city where you dwell.

Tendencies in Mennonite History

Let us take a brief look at Mennonite history in the light of these four themes. We have not been of one mind about how to resolve the tension of dual citizenship. In many places where we have lived, we have taken Jeremiah seriously by establishing roots-- marrying and having children, building our farms and gardens. We combined this with a strong church/world dichotomy by creating a sociological enclave separate from the larger culture and forgot the second part of Jeremiah ' s vision to seek the well-being of the city where we dwell. We have used the Anabaptist Schleitheim Confession of Faith (which contrasts those within the perfection of Christ and those outside) to reinforce a sociological dualism of separation from the world.
A second approach has been to spiritualize our identity as the people of God. We are Christians inwardly/spiritually and citizens in society outwardly. We emphasize our inward relationship to God. God has saved us as individuals, and through Christ we inherit eternal life. Combined with this inward, individual, and otherworldly faith, we live quite like our neighbors. In Holland Mennonites rapidly acculturated to Dutch culture, in Germany Mennonite Christians lived quite complacently under the Nazis. And today within the U.S. Empire, the most powerful empire ever in the history of mankind, many Mennonites do not look or act very differently from most Christians. We accept our work and our professions within the public sphere and work in society quite like everyone else. We have forgotten or marginalized the radical ``politics of Jesus '' who sociologically embodied a form of living that challenged the violence and injustice of the Roman Empire, and the hypocrisy and complacency of religion. Though many talk of mission, we tend to ignore the good news of justice for the poor and the marginal. We basically fit comfortably into living within empire. What ``belongs to God'' is our spiritual self, while our embodied political self belongs to Caesar.
A third tendency is more recent. As we have become more active politically, our politics is hard to distinguish from the ideologies of partisan politics. We belong either to the `` left'' or the `` right.'' We identify with ``red'' or ``blue'' states. Many have taken sides in the culture wars. This has led one Mennonite leader, John Roth, to call for a moratorium on participation in partisan politics. Both on the `` left'' and the ``right'' we have identified a particular political agenda with the politics of Jesus. We have lost track of what it means to be the people of God, because we have confused that with a partisan political agenda.

These three positions are very similar to the options Jesus faced in his time. He could have withdrawn from the world and jointed the Essenes in the desert. He could have spiritualized politics like the Pharisees by being faithful to the law in interpersonal relationships but indifferent to injustice in larger economic and political systems. Or, he could have joined one of the sides in the culture wars of the time by being a Sadducee and collaborating with the Empire (the right) or by rebelling like the Zealots against the empire (the left).

Principles of Citizenship for Living in these Times.
Let me return to several of the biblical themes I identified earlier that we identified with
the prophet Jeremiah. How shall we think about `` what belongs to Caesar'' in our contemporary N. American context?
1. First, clarity of identity is critical. The Jewish people living in Babylon knew who they were. They did not confuse their religious identity with the Babylonian Empire.

We need to recover the concrete, historical, politically and culturally embodied Jesus who really lived in history, taught us how to live, confronted the powers that be, offered healing to people, addressed the needs of the poor, and called for justice and liberation from oppression. He confronted evil nonviolently and called us to love even our enemies, willing to suffer and bear the cross if need be. This is the politics of Jesus. Christ is really present in the world of people ' s lives and struggles. This is not the abstract Christ of the creeds which jumps from Jesus ' birth (born of the Virgin Mary) to the cross (crucified under Pontius Pilate) with nothing in between. This is not a Christ reduced to the abstract formula, he died to save us from our sins for life after death. This is not a liberal Jesus reduced to an amorphous, vague abstraction like agape love. This is the radical, concrete Jesus who calls us to compassion, justice, and a life of nonviolence, in the world, here and now.
If we were really to `` see'' this Jesus, our citizenship and what we render to Caesar, would be radically transformed.
2. Secondly, we would have a strong sense that we belong to a cosmopolitan global community that transcends the boundaries of the nations. We would have a deep sense of the worldwide church, and would become deeply involved in the ecumenical movement like the World Council of Churches. We would join the Dutch, German, and Congolese Mennonites in fully participating in the larger global church represented by the World Council of Churches.
3. Thirdly, we would have a much deeper sense of God as Lord over all the nations.
This theme is central in the other two scripture texts that were read this morning. As Psalm
96 puts it, we would `` declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples. For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; he is to be revered above all gods. For the gods of the peoples are idols, but the Lord made the heavens.'' America ' s god is an idol, one made in our own image to bless our cause. The God of the nations is far greater, so much so that in the Isaiah 45 text Cyrus, the pagan leader of the Persian Empire was seen as the anointed one of God. The English words `` anointed one'' are a translation of the Hebrew word, ``Messiah.'' This is quite astonishing, that a pagan foreign ruler could be seen by the prophet Isaiah as the `` Messiah,'' the anointed one of God.

4. Like Jeremiah, we can and should establish roots here in America. We can love and identify with our country, the city where we dwell. As Ted Grimsrud has argued so well in an article in the Mennonite Quarterly Review, we can as Mennonites positively identify with the democracy story, and participate with our whole being in helping shape the common good. That story can be distinguished from the militarized arrogance of an American empire. We should love American democracy with its system of citizen participation, its checks and balances, its emphasis on human rights. As Mennonite Christians, shaped by the story of Jesus, we can help shape an expanded view of human rights - a vision that includes the rights of the poor to an adequate standard of living, to health care, and a healthy living environment. Katrina `` exposed '' the deep flaws in an `` anti-government '' and ``anti-tax '' mentality that robs the common good in order to line the pockets of the wealthy and build a military-industrial complex at the expense of everything else. We can and should support the common good, and willingly and even joyfully pay our taxes to support the common welfare. We can love the land where we live, working with our whole being to protect clean air and water, to protect the good earth and the eco-systems, which sustain life. We can love the distinct contributions of American culture - from jazz to baseball. This is our home, this is our land, and as citizens of this place we have a contribution to make.
So what belongs to Caesar? The paradox, or the irony, is that we owe to Caesar faithfulness to the vision we have been called to by God since Abraham. When we are faithful members of the body of Christ, that cosmopolitan community that extends throughout the globe, when we honor God as Lord of the nations, when we seek the welfare of the city where we dwell, then we do that which belongs to Caesar. What belongs to Caesar is not, therefore something separate, different, or distinct from our Christian identity. It is when we lose our nerve, and abandon our Christian calling, that we fail to render to Caesar what Caesar needs most.

The conventional wisdom is that democracy and freedom are preserved best by those who are willing to die in war to protect the nation. I do not want to denigrate that commitment and sacrifice. We can learn from that dedication and sacrifice as Christian pacifists. But I propose we turn that conventional wisdom upside down this morning, and live an alternative wisdom. Democracy is built and preserved by those who exercise their democratic freedoms and responsibilities. Militarism is anti-democratic. It breeds authoritarianism. It teaches habits of obedience to authority and reliance on coercive force rather than reason. It tends to produce a herd morality. The virtues of a democratic society are: that we think for ourselves, and persuade fellow citizens with reason rather than force. Democracy was not born out of militarist societies, but rather in the voluntary Anabaptist communities of 16 ^th century Europe and the dissenting communities of Congregationalists, Baptists and Quakers of 17 ^th century England. We do not need to be apologetic for not giving our lives in military service or feel guilty or unpatriotic for not doing our part. We choose another way of contributing to the well being of the commons where we dwell. By making our voices heard as followers of Jesus Christ in the public square, by working for public policies that enhance the well being of the poor and the marginal, that protect the ecosystem that sustains life, we do what Caesar needs most. It is the highest form of patriotism-- a love of the land we live in that sustains life, love of the neighbor who shares the earth with us, and the love of God who is Lord of all the nations.