I have to tell you something about myself. I don't like politics.

Now, this isn't a new discovery. I've been wary of it for as long as I can remember. Except as a youngster, when my dad drove his 1931 Model A Ford in a parade, and the car was festooned with banners supporting a local man for some political office that fall. Indeed, that life experience was an anomaly.

I have been reticent, even reluctant, to endorse any candidate, to engage in any political conversation, for my entire career as a military chaplain. And so, in God's ironic and inimitable way, God directed me to this present call to serve as the chaplain of the House of Representatives, where everything is political. Yes, even prayer.

Never before have I been so well informed on the issues, so well versed in the positions, both public and private, of the candidates, and even more compelled to go to the polls and exercise my responsibility to vote. And yet I remain constrained, maybe even more so, from sharing my own political viewpoints as I fulfill my role and in my daily interactions with our elected leaders.

Which makes today's text all the more relevant.

This phrase is well known, but the context is important. When the chief priests and scribes, more specifically the Pharisees and the Herodians, approached Jesus, these two rival factions had diametrically opposed views on the Roman poll tax. But in some bizarre confluence, these two widely divergent parties conspired together to entrap Jesus, hoping the proverbial coin would fall in their own favor.

You see, if Jesus answered yes to the question, “Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar?” the Pharisees would brand him a traitor to the Jewish people and a collaborator with Rome. If Jesus said no, the Herodians would report him to the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, as an insurgent, inciting a rebellion against the Roman Empire. Either way, Jesus would be arrested and their mutual problem solved.

The price of the tax was one denarius, a coin with the picture of the Emperor Tiberius inscribed with the title “Son of the Divine Augustus.” Jesus’ question is as poignant as his answer: “Whose image is this?”

“Render unto Caesar that which belongs to Caesar.”

Jesus’ response underscored the civil responsibility to pay taxes, and one could argue the moral responsibility that each must contribute to the very system from which all benefit. As odious as we may think our political system is, as frustrated as we may be with each administration, as hopeless as we think our democratic processes have proven, we nonetheless have benefited for 250 years, in countless ways, from a system of government in which authority is invested in those entrusted with leadership.

We have our civic responsibilities made painfully obvious to those of us in the United States every April 15th. But we also bear the moral responsibility to contribute our voices, our votes, our concerted engagement to the very system from which we, to varying degrees, all benefit.

Yes, we must render to Caesar all that is Caesar's.

But then there's the other half of Jesus’ response, which often gets lost in the politically charged moment: “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, and unto God that which is God's.”

Writing in the fourth century, Augustine asserted that while the coin bears Caesar's image and thus belongs to Caesar, the human soul bears the image of God and thus belongs to God. Jesus’ challengers were caught up in debating points of taxation, authority, and duty, all of which belonged to the government. But Jesus subtly reminded them of the obligation they, and we, have to God's authority, rendering unto God all of which belongs to God: our whole heart, our whole soul, and all of our strength.

Simply, the coin belongs to Caesar. We belong to God.

As the 62nd chaplain of the House, I have the distinct privilege of upholding the legacy established in the first Congress, which convened in 1789. Both the Senate and the House were each appointed a chaplain whose primary responsibility was to open each chamber's legislative day in prayer.

That is now my charge: to pray on behalf of 435 people who aren't called representatives for nothing, but who represent not only the diverse districts of these United States, but a wide variety of races, ethnicities, gender, religious traditions, opinions, values, and virtues.

It is not my role to preach to them, but to intercede on their behalf. Mine is not to prey on them, attempting to advance any agenda of my own, but to pray for them as they attend to the agendas they've been elected to represent.

Theirs is a responsibility of a different kind.

Romans 13, a chapter often cited when studying the gospel lesson, reveals that temporal authorities have been instituted by God. God has designed government writ large to maintain order in a broken world. Government, therefore, is given real authority, but not ultimate authority. Those entrusted with its power remain subject to the will and the authority of God.

We as citizens are to acknowledge the authority vested in our civic leadership. But we should also acknowledge that in bearing the mantle of responsibility, their authority is not to be put on, in other words, to serve as a tribute to their own success. Their authority has been placed on their shoulders. It's a charge entrusted to them to serve God as they serve the people. They are accountable to an authority beyond themselves.

Before Congress as we know it was established in 1774, the first Continental Congress gathered in Philadelphia. I often joke that the first delegates didn't get along well then, either. And so it was determined that only by appealing to the divine would they make any headway.

While some of that is true, Delegate Thomas Cushing of Massachusetts was so deeply concerned about the current state of affairs as they met to address an unprecedented political crisis that he suggested that the next day's proceedings be opened with prayer. Despite an initial argument contending that they were so divided in religious sentiments, there was no way that they could join together even in prayer.

It was ultimately agreed that Jacob Duché of Christ Church there in Philadelphia would be invited to pray on their behalf. His prayer so moved the delegates that he was asked to continue the practice each day of their convening.

But the responsibility to pray for those entrusted with governing authority long predates Congress. The apostle Paul, in his first letter to Timothy, urges Christians to offer prayers, petitions, and thanksgiving for all people, including government leaders and authorities.

Note that he doesn't say only pray for the righteous, nor does he say only pray for the ones we agree with who represent our agendas. Neither our approval nor our disapproval determines whether they are worthy of prayer.

In meeting our responsibility to render unto God, we are to release our misgivings, our frustrations, and our hopelessness, and offer our prayers, our petitions, and our thanksgiving on behalf of our leaders.

My particular charge as chaplain of the House is to pray to the one under whose authority every member of Congress and Congress itself stands. Our shared calling as Christians, as citizens of earth and heaven, is not to make prayer political, co-opting it as a means of sanctifying our own political preferences. It isn't to preach to them, to use our theology or biblical interpretation to berate them.

So how, then, do we pray for them?

Russell Moore tells of a portrait artist who sketches people's faces. At some point, he decided he would draw the faces of his enemies, people who have hurt him, who have disappointed him. He said, “Looking at their faces, I start to see the humanity and complexity of people. That helps me to pray for them, that they would experience some personal growth, wisdom, good decision making, and joy.”

When we consider our leadership, would that we look not just on their humanity and their complexity, but also see in them the image of God. Then we can pray that they would recognize that same image in those whom they are called to serve. We can pray that they seek the wisdom their creator offers to them, that they exercise their authority with justice and compassion, and that they remain humble before the authority who has entrusted them with theirs.

Ours is to intercede on behalf of our leaders, placing them, the ones we like and the ones we don't like, and ourselves under God's judgment and grace.

Yes, we have both a civic and moral responsibility to render to Caesar all that is Caesar's, contributing our voices, our votes, our concerted engagement to the system which bears Caesar's image.

But we have a spiritual responsibility to render to God that which is God's: to place our government and our leaders before God in our prayers, petitions, and thanksgiving, acknowledging that they, like us, stand under God's authority.

In so doing, may we offer them and ourselves our whole heart, soul, and strength unto him who is able to do far more than we can possibly think or imagine.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.