The issue before us today is the issue of image. An image can be two-dimensional—a photograph, a painting, maybe a mosaic, but can also be three-dimensional—a sculpture or statue. Images don’t have to be of a person, although that’s going to be our focus, but I’d like us to think beyond snapshots, selfies, paint on a canvas, features chiseled into a piece of granite or molded into metal or clay to give you an impression of what someone looks like. An image can go beyond that to capture something beyond the physical, to capture our identity, something of our personality, something about how we interact with other persons—positively or negatively, productive or destructive. Image says something about who we are when we’re with other people.

Images capture something of our passions. They say something about what we’re all about, something about what generates our greatest emotions, something about our personal mission statement—what we have accomplished or want most to accomplish in life. Not everything, but something. Critics might stand back and examine a recently done photograph or statue or painting and conclude that the artist has captured the very essence of a person, but we know that isn’t true. We’re a lot more complex than a single representation can capture.

Images can be communicated through music or dance. Sometimes we simply use words to try to capture a person. At a seminar I attended several years ago, the host introduced the first speaker by reading her entire bio, start to finish. Since she had been around the block a few times, accumulating an assortment of degrees and a ton of experience, the bio was long. The speaker stood when her name was mentioned and started walking toward the podium all ready to begin, then backed up a bit as the bio continued. She kept making embarrassed movements toward the podium when she thought that it was about done or maybe thinking her movement would make it all stop. Her ego had her hoping that the audience would start out with an image of competence, expecting that she was someone worth listening to, but she was more interested in that being accomplished with her presentation, not her bio.

When the time came for her to speak, her first comment was, “I didn’t think he was going to read the whole thing!” The master of ceremonies thought that it was his responsibility to create an image of the speaker before she spoke—basically, to impress the audience with what an amazing speaker they had booked. She thought it was her responsibility to create or project an image of herself as she spoke. Image, apparently, is everything.

Now I’m going to do about the same thing and introduce you to Mechtild of Magdeburg, the writer of our opening prayer. Mechtild lived in Germany and was part of a lay religious order called Beguines that were active in Northern Europe and part of a larger spiritual revival of the time during the 13th century. They lived in semi-monastic communities which means they didn’t take formal religious vows. Their goal was to imitate the life of Christ through religious devotion, voluntary poverty, and the care of the poor and sick. From the time she was 12, Mechtild had mystical visions of the Holy Spirit in her devotions. I’m impressed with the size of her image of God. She takes these diverse metaphors—Mountain, Sun, Moon, Well, Height, Clearness, Wisdom, Mercy, Strength, and Crown, and intensifies them with words such as burning, chosen, perfect, unattainable, and beyond measure. There is an unspoken understanding in her writing that, despite the best of her intentions, God is so far beyond, so much more than all of her descriptions, all of her images. By contrast, she imagines herself as the humblest thing God created. It’s all about images.

Another image: Moses has been shaken. While he was up on Mt. Sinai receiving the Ten Commandments from God and taking a good bit longer than the people had been expecting, this massive band of Hebrew slaves that he had led out of Egyptian captivity fashioned themselves a golden calf and called it “god.” God informs Moses as to what the people are doing and is ready wipe them out. Moses talks God out of it, but when he sees the sacrifices being offered to an idol, he rages against the people and throws down the two tablets of stone, smashing them at the foot of the mountain. He burns the golden calf, grinds up what is left, puts it in water, and makes the people drink it. After gathering those who claim to be loyal to the Lord, which just happened to be the people of his own tribe, the Levites, he has them kill 3,000 of the others for their sin, then goes back to the Lord to plead for forgiveness for those who remain. He even offers himself as a substitute for the people, offering to have himself blotted out of God’s book, saying, “When it comes down to it, I’m no different than them, no less of a sinner.” His self-image doesn’t differ from the image he has of his people.

In this morning’s reading from Exodus, Moses is looking for reassurance. He meets God in what is called the tent of meeting, and wants to know for sure that he is on the right track—despite all appearances or images to the contrary. Moses wants to know God as deeply as God knows Moses, and decides that he needs to be exposed to God’s entire bio, God’s glorious presence. He wants a complete image of God. Moses wants to know why God does what God does, but God knows there’s no way Moses can handle all of that. To know God is to be intimate with God, and Moses isn’t ready for that depth of intimacy.

God gives in to Moses’ pleading, but with limits. God will set Moses in a gap or cleft of rock and cover him while the glorious presence of God passes by, so that Moses will only be permitted to see God’s back. That’s all of the godly image Moses could handle.

Caesar fancied himself a god. His image ended up on the coins that the Jews had to use to pay their taxes. Paying Roman taxes was bad enough, but Jews having to pay them with coins bearing the image of an emperor who thought he was a god just made it worse. Caesar’s face projected an image of power and control.

Herod Antipas was part Jewish but mostly Roman. He was the one running the show in Palestine for Caesar. Jews who were loyal to Herod were called Herodians. On a good day, the Herodians and the Pharisees—who typically kept themselves separate from anything Roman—probably also kept some distance form each other. But on this particular day, they had a common enemy. The image that the Pharisees held of Jesus was that he was disloyal to the faith, not as attentive to the laws as they would have preferred that he be, not as respectful of the high priests, the priests, the Levites who assisted the priests, the lawyers or scribes, and the elders. The Herodians held an image of Jesus as a troublemaker, one who threatened the tenuous state of peaceful coexistence between the Jews and the Romans. Being a supporter of Herod had its benefits, and the Herodians didn’t want to lose these benefits just because Jesus couldn’t keep his mouth shut and mind his place. So while they usually didn’t have any use for one another, the Pharisees and the Herodians together come up with what they think is the perfect plot to undermine his ministry, to destroy his image. They project the image of those who are impressed with Rabbi Jesus. “Teacher, we know that you are 100% genuine. You shoot straight from the hip and teach God’s way just the way it is. Opinion has no effect on you. You don’t favor one group over another. So you are just the person we need to answer a question that has been puzzling us. Does God’s Law allow people to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” They really had to be congratulating themselves for coming up with this one! If he said “yes,” the Pharisees were ready to go after him for ignoring the fact that the coins bore the image of one who believed himself to be a god—each coin a miniature idol. If he said “no,” the Herodians were ready to go after him for encouraging the Jews not to pay their taxes. Either way, they had him.

Jesus cuts through to the real image. “Hypocrites! Who are you to test me? Show me a coin used to pay the tax. Whose image and whose inscription is on it?”

“Caesar’s.”

“Give Caesar what belongs to Caesar.” Then there’s the unspoken question. “Whose image and whose inscription is on you?” “Give to God what belongs to God.” End of conversation. Boom!

How does all of this tie together? The Herodians and the Pharisees thought that they “had” Jesus because they knew him. They had an image of him in their minds but it was incomplete. He was a genuine teacher, but that was just one perspective. If they wanted to really get to know him, they were going to have to build a relationship with him. Relationships take time. Moses thought that he could take in all of God in one sitting. God knew better. It’s that whole knowledge thing. That takes time. Couples meet, experience what they call “chemistry,” which is all lovely and everything, but they still don’t know each other. They have an image, but they need more. It might even be a great image, but it’s not enough. Knowing another person takes time. It takes effort.

We’re moving into campaign season and already images are flying. Sound bites are flying. People are playing Pharisee and Herodian, trying to trick people into saying the wrong thing. One-dimensional images of candidates are projected based on statements or statistics often incomplete or taken out of context. What we need to take with us to the ballot boxes is a much fuller image of the candidates. But that takes time. Getting to actually know a person and his or her positions. Learning what they stand for rather than simply who they stand against.

And people of faith don’t say that all of this doesn’t matter because elections are all in God’s hands. God would say that it’s in our hands. It’s up to us to learn. It’s up to us to discern an accurate image of the candidates, not to simply accept the image another person or another group has. First impressions, those initial images, may be accurate but may also be all wrong. Knowledge is the goal.

This week, think of someone you know—someone you have already formed an opinion of even though you don’t know that person well. See if you can get past that initial image and look deeper. Take some time to get to know that person better. Do the same thing for some of the persons that are or will be running for office. Step away from the opinion you’ve already formed; find out something you didn’t know to see if that original image holds up. And think of an image of God that you typically don’t think about, a name that you typically don’t use. Use that image and that name as you speak to God this week. The Pharisees and Herodians were astonished by the new image they had of Jesus. Maybe we can astonish Jesus in return.