Who is Caesar?

Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” (Deuteronomy 6:4)

“The early church refused [the] claim of the overlordship of Caesar; they refused to see Jesus as a mere part of the pantheon of the gods in Rome. In fact, the confession ‘Jesus is Lord’ became in their mouths and in this context a deeply suversive claim that effectively undermined the rule of Caesar.” (Hirsch, The Forgotten Ways)

As Alan Hirsch highlights in the above-mentioned book, the claim that “Jesus is Lord” (a new testament continuation of Israel’s shema) is central to the life of a believer. In the Roman empire, the claim refuted Caesar’s divinity and centrality to life in the empire, and instead affirmed the suffering Christ, the man of sorrows who suffered for the world.

I think this proclamation is necessary to our life; it reorients us to the primacy of God, it corrects our allegiance and reminds us who lays claim to our souls. But I was struck this morning with the question, “Who, now, is Caesar?” In the US, our nation demands our allegiance, but not our affirmation of the divinity of the president. A gentle pluralism doesn’t demand our ascent to the “overlordship of Caesar,” at least in the national leader sense of the world.

So where is our Caesar?

I think we find our Caesar in Best Buy, in the mall, in the advertising agencies of Madison avenue. You can live in the west and dissent from the government; dissenting from consumerism, however, is a much riskier venture. It seems you’re more likely to be branded a heathen and radical by refusing to conspicuously consume than you are by burning a flag. Moreover, we are more apt to find our salvation in our bank accounts and wardrobes, rather than the military might of our empire.

This Caesar is by degrees more subtle, seductive and pervasive than Rome’s. First-century Caesar said, “Join the legions”, twenty-first century Caesar says, “Join the nation’s fastest 3G network.” Augustus said, “bow down”, Madison Avenue says, “just enter your debit card pin”.

The institutional church in the US remains strangely silent in the face of our new Caesar. After all, it’s dangerous to condemn conspicuous consumption when you’re building a brand new auditorium. Unfortunately, we have become part of the new Caesar’s empire. How often do we preach about healthy spending habits? How often do we challenge our congregants on their newest iPhone or big screen? Somehow, the “stuff” of our people has become sacred and off-limits to us as pastors. Caesar demanded their allegiance, they gave it, and we lacked the courage to oppose it. By our silence we affirm his power.