A coin, a fish and a twist

I came across a strange little story in the Gospel of Matthew. I’d been looking for words about kingship because the November lectionary brings the church year to a close with the celebration of Christ as King, and so I stumbled upon Matthew 17: 24-27.

At first glance, it looks like another version of the Pharisees quizzing Jesus about paying taxes. The more familiar versions appear in the gospels of Mark and Luke and give us the moral render unto Caesar. But in Matthew’s passage, the temple tax man asks Peter for the coin, who fumbles in his pocket and quickly heads home. When he gets there, Jesus asks him a strange question. “From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tribute? From their children or from others?” This caught my attention. We’re all thinking about tariffs and taxes these days. Peter suggests that it’s others who pay. “Then the children are free,” Jesus says.

But then the story gets stranger because Jesus continues: “However, so that we do not give offence to them, go to the lake and cast a hook; take the first fish that comes up; and when you open its mouth, you will find a coin; take that and give it to them for you and me.”

What’s going on here?

Is this a minor miracle? A joke? Or is this more like a folktale? Maybe it’s what the writer and minister Leith Fisher (who was so beautifully named for this story) called “a piece of imaginative truth.” A twist of a fairy story where the coin turns up just in time. I can imagine a huddle of children laughing when Jesus told them this story. And like a parable, it feels like a story that doesn’t have one clear moral. Understanding takes more work than that. The meaning becomes clear when we sit with it a little longer.

Jesus asked Peter about the kings of the earth. We might imagine the edged tone in his voice, and to be fair, in Matthew’s gospel, there are several examples of worldly leaders who are less than laudable. And then Peter answers that of course the royal offspring get a free ride. A dose of not-so-good old-fashioned nepotism. The children are free.

Playful subversion

But then Christ’s loud however changes everything, and suddenly there’s an assumption in the air that we’re talking about a different king altogether. Peter and Jesus – we – are now the free children of the heavenly King who, miraculously right on cue, provides the fish who gives the coin that Peter pays the tax man.

Framed like that, this becomes a story about Christian freedom. Powers and systems may ask too much of us and offer far too little security, but we are free because God provides in surprising ways that subvert the very power of earthly kings. The story playfully invites us to look at the bigger picture. Where have we been surprised by God’s good gifts? Where might we be asked to look?