What were you doing ten years ago? If you were to ask me the question I would reply something like ‘writing assignments’ or ‘preparing for exams’. For I was in my last year at St John’s College in Auckland and was starting to think about what it was going to mean to be ordained a deacon in the Anglican Church. 
But for others, within and outside the church, the focus was on something much larger.
Beyond the study and the sanctuary, a movement was growing that was to have a profound effect on our society for the years to come. It began at the 53rd meeting of our General Synod. A presentation was made to the gathered bishops, clergy and lay representatives, by Anglican Social Services, those groups working with the most vulnerable in our society. And such were the concerns expressed that a decision was made to do something, to get up out of our pews and to let our policy makers know how we feel.
That was the beginning of the Hikoi of Hope.
Three months later, people from across the country and across the socio-economic divides, began a journey, a pilgrimage of sorts, from Cape Reinga in the North and Bluff in the South, to Wellington, to the heart and soul of political decision-making in New Zealand. And on the 1st of October, 1998, thousands of people converged on Parliament grounds, including the former Governor General and Archbishop of New Zealand, Sir Paul Reeves, to give a clear message to our politicians: ‘enough is enough’. The level of poverty in New Zealand was intolerable and urgent solutions had to be found.
I am told a small contingent from here were part of that day.
It is fair to say the Hikoi received mixed responses from those in the Anglican community and beyond. Not everyone agreed with the decision made by General Synod. Some were of the opinion that politics and religion are best kept apart. The church should be involved in soup kitchens and food banks, but it is not the place for them to get mixed up in politics and they certainly should steer away from protest.
One of the passages of scripture such people sometimes use to support their position is the gospel reading we heard today. They argue Jesus’ response to the Pharisees and Herodians makes it clear there are two spheres - one for politics and another for religion; and never the twain shall meet.
But I want to suggest a closer look at this text offers a very different perspective.
You may recall that in the previous passage, Jesus had some hard words to say to the religious leaders. In the parable of the wedding feast, he tells them they have rejected God’s invitation to the final banquet, and now that privilege was going to be given to others, those brought in off the streets.
As you can imagine, his words did not impress some; and their response was to try and trap him.
But what is interesting here is an unlikely coalition of parties joins together against Jesus. On the one hand, we have the Pharisees. This group resented Roman occupation, but tolerated it as a necessary evil. They were prepared to acquiesce as long as it did not interfere with the practice of Jewish religion.  On the other hand, we have the members of Herod’s party. A secular political party, they supported the right of King Herod’s descendents to rule over Palestine, which meant they were also pro-Roman. 
Normally these two groups would not see eye to eye. But against a common threat, they were willing to put aside their differences and to act together. Some things do not change! Like someone seated in the opposition seats, they ask Jesus: ‘Are we or are we not permitted to pay taxes to the Roman Emperor?’
Of course, their objective is to put Jesus in an impossible situation. If he says ‘yes’, he would show himself to be a supporter of the Roman occupation. The ordinary folk, suffering under Roman rule, and who regarded the tax as a symbol of their lost freedom, would then no doubt take their vote elsewhere. But if he said ‘no’, he would come under the ruthless eye of Pilate, the Roman Governor of the region.
But like a seasoned politician, Jesus is a master of rhetoric. With a knock out one-liner he silences his foes. They leave the chamber. ‘Pay Caesar what is due to Caesar, and pay God what is due to God.’
Tertullian, an early Christian thinker, gives an insightful interpretation of these words. He speaks of people, like you and me, being stamped with the image of God. As a Roman coin, the currency used to pay the tax to Rome, is engraved with the image of the ruling emperor and therefore belongs to him, so we belong to God. We are God’s coins to be spent in the service of God’s kingdom.
I suggest his interpretation has important implications for us as we prepare to vote.
First, it reminds us we each bear the image of God. We are created in love to fulfil our potential as human beings in a relationship with God. Though this image may be worn-out or scratched, marred by sin, none of us is worthless. We are precious to God. Therefore, no-one deserves to be discarded or treated with disdain. This raises the questions: How do we view others in our society? Do we see the image of God in them? Will we work to make that image shine in our own lives and in others?
And second, it reminds us where our true loyalty lies. Some of us have political allegiances. We may be members of Herod’s party, or the Greens, National, or Labour; but Jesus tells us that our desire to live in accordance with God’s will, must come first. God may well use the most unlikely of means to bring about a desired end; it may be Cyrus or Caesar, as some Jews believed. But as we pray, ‘your kingdom come, your will be done’, so must we act in the decisions we make and in the people we seek to become.
In a recent edition of the magazine ‘Just Living’, produced by the Anglican Social Justice Commission, a snapshot of how we have done since 1998 is included. The statistics make interesting reading, though with the present global financial crisis they are possibly now out-of-date. Here are a few of them:
Unemployment has halved since 1998.
Life expectancy has risen across ethnic groups. Infant mortality has dropped.
Surgical waiting lists are still an issue, and the health system is struggling to keep up with increased demands for primary health care services.
Violent crime has risen, though overall crime rate has declined.
The prison population and imprisonment rate has increased significantly.
Median residential house prices are almost double the nominal price of a decade ago.
Educational achievements have improved but are uneven across deprivation deciles.
Income inequality continues to grow. Over half the total net worth of our nation is owned by the top 10% wealthiest people; the bottom 50% owns just 5%.
New Zealand’s ecological footprint (the area of land and water a human population requires to produce the resources it consumes and to absorb its wastes) increased by over 15%.
And the list could go on.
What does it mean to pray ‘Your kingdom come’? How would our society be different if we took Jesus’ words seriously? What policies promoted by our political parties support the values we preach?
In a couple of weeks we will have a chance to exercise our democratic right. A right which I suggest is also our Christian responsibility. If you are anything like me, you may still not have decided which boxes you will tick. You may be waiting to see what commitments the parties will yet announce. But wherever you sit on the political spectrum, may the box you tick not be based on personalities but on policies; and in your choices, may you consider not only how you will benefit, but what impact your decision will have on those most vulnerable in our society. This is what motivated a normally inactive group to step out of their comfort zone, and continues to shape the actions and thoughts of many Christian people today.
So, as the psalmist says: O sing to the Lord a new song: sing to the Lord all the earth.
A sermon preached in St Alban’s Anglican Church, Eastbourne, on Sunday 19 October 2008, by the Ven. Damon Plimmer.