Insightful Musings on the Scriptures

by

Raymond P. Sparre
Northwest University class of '67

Good morning, dear ones.

I’m kind of rattled again as I check my watch. I’m slated to be about an hour away in about an hour and a half…mounting some sign panels. I better hurry. But you can take your time reading this. Don’t let me tangle you up in my hurry.

Blessings on your day.

Love, Dad/Ray.

When we take this little account apart surrounding the “temple tax,” and scrutinize the components, it really is about as supernatural and twilight-zonish as it gets. But that really should be no surprise. After all, there is no such thing as any “Twilight Zone” for One Who is a combination of omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence. And perhaps the reason these facts so startle and amaze us when exposed to them is because they represent such a contrast to what we absolutely are not. Our qualities, at best, are mini-science, mini-potence, and mini-presence.

Notice first of all that Jesus was not physically there when the temple tax collectors approached Peter and asked, “Doesn’t your teacher pay the temple tax?” But Jesus obviously knew about the encounter. Evidence that He knew is presented this way: “When Peter came into the house, Jesus was the first to speak.” And when He spoke, He addressed the specific principle of taxation, and prescribed a specific supernatural solution for meeting this particular obligation. And there you have it—we must take this as Biblical instruction for paying our taxes in the same way—first, go fishing—and if you don’t find any money in the mouths of the fish you catch, you don’t have to pay taxes. Bingo! It’s all so clear! Just kidding. (Parenthetical comment: I doubt very much that Peter treated that fish as “catch and release.”) I’m playing with some faulty methods of interpretation—which represents how easy it is to do so.

The account is not complete so as to tell how the matter played out. We can only assume that Peter did exactly as he was told. I can only imagine that he didn’t wait till he got home to check the mouth of the fish. Wow—sure enough—“a four-drachma coin.” Question: Do you think Peter stopped fishing with that? If he caught another fish, do you doubt that he inspected the mouth of that one too?—maybe hoping for an eight-drachma coin? If that had happened, do you think Peter would not have considered starting up another fishing business? After all, he was Jewish. Whatever.

A worthy warning comes to mind: Never treat your faith in the Sovereign God on a par with a goose that lays golden eggs.