CHAPTER 25

Matthew 17:14–27

LISTEN to the Story

¹⁴When they came to the crowd, a man approached Jesus and knelt before him. ¹⁵“Lord, have mercy on my son,” he said. “He has seizures and is suffering greatly. He often falls into the fire or into the water. ¹⁶I brought him to your disciples, but they could not heal him.”

¹⁷“You unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy here to me.” ¹⁸Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed at that moment.

¹⁹Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?”

²⁰He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” ^[21]

²²When they came together in Galilee, he said to them, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men. ²³They will kill him, and on the third day he will be raised to life.” And the disciples were filled with grief.

²⁴After Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma temple tax came to Peter and asked, “Doesn’t your teacher pay the temple tax?”

²⁵“Yes, he does,” he replied.

When Peter came into the house, Jesus was the first to speak. “What do you think, Simon?” he asked. “From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes—from their own children or from others?”

²⁶“From others,” Peter answered.

“Then the children are exempt,” Jesus said to him. ²⁷“But so that we may not cause offense, go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.”

Listening to the Text in the Story: Exodus 30:11–16; 32:15–35; 38:26; Deuteronomy 32:5, 20; Psalm 4:2–3; Nehemiah 10:32–33.

Jesus knew his days were numbered and that his disciples had a lot to learn before he left them. Evidently, the end of his life was on his mind quite a bit at this time. He keeps reminding his disciples what will happen when they get to Jerusalem (Matt 17:22–23). He interprets current events in light of his imminent departure (we can certainly hear frustration in his voice as the grains of sand pass quickly through the hour glass): “You unbelieving and perverse generation . . . how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you?” (v. 17). So much to do, so much for them to learn, so little time. We would almost expect Jesus to lift his eyes to heaven and ask his heavenly Father for more time. That would be a reasonable request, wouldn’t it? Don’t we all wish we had more time to do what we need to do before the end? Think about Jesus. We certainly could find dozens of reasons why it would have been better for him to live much longer. Instead, his life was cut short. He would soon die in Jerusalem—a young man according to our standards. But if he had lived, say, another twenty years, imagine the lessons he could have taught his disciples (and us)—things that came up long after he was gone, like should the early church have supported the temple before it was destroyed? Speaking of the temple, when it was destroyed by the Romans, was that a sign of the end of the world? Regarding signs, if miracles don’t happen, is it due to the lack of faith of the one asking or the one trying to perform the miracle? Since the kingdom of heaven coming to earth is subversive, many people are going to be offended. So, should Christ followers expect to offend others, or are we supposed to try to live at peace in the world? What about taxes? Since we don’t belong to the kingdom of this world, should we have to pay taxes? (Oh, I’d like to hear Jesus answer that one! Did he answer? See Matt 22:15–22.)

During his brief life, Jesus taught and did numerous things not recorded in the four Gospels (John 21:25). Therefore, scholars wonder why certain stories made it into the Gospel authors’ literary accounts of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ—especially episodes like the miracle of the coin in the fish’s mouth and questions about the temple tax (Matt 17:24–27). With only so much papyrus to write on, our authors had to be incredibly selective in what they included in their Gospels. (All four Gospels are about the same length due to the capacity of the papyrus roll. Anything bigger would be difficult to read and too cumbersome to handle. In other words, the size of these “books” were the longest documents written at that time.)¹ When we run across a story like this one—a rather odd tale about temple taxes and fishing for coins—we can’t help but question our Gospel writer’s decision: Why did Matthew include this story—of all stories—and what was he trying to teach his readers?² Wasn’t he being rather shortsighted, raising an issue that had become moot (most scholars think Matthew’s Gospel was written after AD 70)?³ Besides, in light of the impending tragedy hanging over the heads of Jesus and his disciples in Matthew’s narrative world, isn’t the question about paying the temple tax rather trivial? Doesn’t Jesus have more important lessons to teach his followers, given the little time he has left?

Obviously, Matthew didn’t think so. For you can’t find a more important lesson to learn when following Jesus than the power of faith and the providence of God.

EXPLAIN the Story

The absence of Jesus is a salient feature of both episodes.⁴ When Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James, and John, the nine disciples were “left behind” and faced the prospect of healing a boy without Jesus being present (Matt 17:14–16). After Jesus and his disciples returned home to Capernaum, tax collectors expected Peter to answer for Jesus regarding the temple tax (v. 24). In both cases, neither the nine nor Peter made the decision to wait for Jesus. Rather, they took matters into their own hands: the nine gave it a go and tried to heal the boy; Peter spoke on Jesus’s behalf (v. 25). It’s not that they were acting presumptuously, taking liberties while Jesus was gone. Jesus had given all twelve of his disciples the authority to “heal every disease and sickness” as well as to “drive out demons” (10:1–8). Moreover, Jesus had conferred upon Peter a special role as leader of the church (16:17–19). The problem was that the absence of Jesus revealed what they were lacking: for the nine, it was faith; for Peter, it was understanding. In other words, in his absence Jesus would have expected the nine to heal the boy because he had already given them the power to do so (10:1). In the case of Peter, the Messiah would have expected him to understand why they would pay the temple tax because Peter had already shown that he understood the revelation of God (16:16). But neither was the case: in Jesus’s absence, the nine exhibited “little faith,” and Peter didn’t understand—lessons that Matthew thought were important for a church to learn while waiting for the return of Christ.⁵

The Power of Faith

If Jesus never thought he would leave his disciples, then this wouldn’t have been much of a problem. So the disciples tried to heal the sick boy and failed—no big deal. Sick people would always have Jesus to count on as the ultimate back-up plan. He was the go-to guy when the chips were down. With a long-term Messiah always waiting in the wings, we would expect Jesus to give an “attaboy” to the nine disciples for trying. “It’s all right, guys. At least you did your best. Not to worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything.” But Jesus’s impending death exacerbated the situation, making the moment even more stressful—both for Jesus and the disciples. When the father, who pleaded for his son’s healing, reported what had happened, Jesus responded with a blistering retort: “You unbelieving and perverse generation!” (Matt 17:17). But, to whom was he speaking? His disciples,⁶ the father, or the crowd of onlookers?⁷

At first, it appears Jesus was angry with his disciples. The father of a boy having “seizures” (v. 15; lit., “seized by the moon,” selēniazomai; a “lunatic”)⁸ “tattled on” the nine disciples for their inability to cast out the demon—something they should have been able to do (10:1, 8). I wonder if the disciples thought to themselves, “Thanks a lot, fella. Was that really necessary?” In fact, one wonders if Jesus was offended by the comment. After all, their failure to do what Jesus trained them to do reflected poorly on him as well. Later, when the disciples asked him why they were unable to cast out the demon, Jesus said it was because of their “little faith” (v. 20)—his favorite nickname for the Twelve. “Little faith” is not the same as being “faithless,” a term used to describe those who hindered Jesus from performing miracles (13:58). In fact, Jesus went on to say that the “little faith” of his disciples—small as a mustard seed—would be enough to move mountains (17:20).⁹ Therefore, some think Jesus was criticizing the father for his lack of faith, shifting the blame from the inability of his disciples to the inadequate faith of the boy’s father. Yet Jesus seemed to judge his entire generation, not just the boy’s father, for their faithlessness and perversity (v. 17).¹⁰ In other words, Jesus acted like the entire situation—the disciples’ inability and the father’s unmet request—was indicative of a larger problem. The people of his generation, Israel, were “unbelieving and perverse.” They should have repented but didn’t, even though Jesus performed many miracles (11:20–24). Ironically, their lack of faith would block the miraculous (13:58)—a vicious cycle that was hard to break, even for the Messiah. So it does seem that Jesus blames everyone for the boy’s condition, which was a significant problem because he knew he wouldn’t be there much longer to say “bring the boy here to me” (17:17).

Jesus expected to change Israel, to lead them to repent and believe the good news that the Messiah was here and that it was time for the kingdom of heaven to come to earth. All it would take was a little faith—no bigger than a mustard seed—to move mountains and save the world. So, how would Jesus inspire repentance that leads to faith? By performing miracles. Yet, what happens when miracles are performed and the people don’t repent? If the people don’t repent, then they won’t believe, and if they don’t believe, then miracles won’t happen, and if miracles don’t happen, then they won’t repent. How stubborn is the human heart! What was Jesus to do? How would he break the vicious cycle of unbelief?

The last time we came to this roundabout, Jesus challenged anyone who had ears to hear his invitation: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (11:28). Rather than give up and condemn Israel to hell, Jesus was confident that he would break the cycle of unbelief through his death. In veiled terms, he spoke of the cross as his “yoke,” summoning his disciples to wear it well (vv. 29–30). Jesus knew the only way he would penetrate the stubborn heart of a “faithless and perverse” generation was to die for them. His yoke would “fit well,” his burden would lighten their load. And so, facing the same dilemma, it shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus turned to the subject of his death once again (17:22–23). In his absence he knew that all his disciples needed was a little faith (v. 20). Then the people would bring their troubles to his disciples, and the world would be saved because the Messiah was crucified and raised from the dead. To Jesus, that was the reason to have hope for the future. Yet for the Twelve, the idea that their Messiah would be killed only brought grief (v. 23). It is obvious at this stage of things they couldn’t see how the cross of Christ would break the cycle of unbelief. But they would, one day. Until then, they still had a lot to learn.

The Providence of God

As it is often said, two things are certain in this world: death and taxes. Imagine how Peter’s head must have been spinning over the paradox of Jesus’s imminent death and the demand to pay the temple tax. He’s trying to process the impossible—Jesus is going to be killed—as the tax collectors hit him up for payment (Matt 17:24). Actually, they didn’t come looking for Peter to pay the tax (he probably had enough money on him to take care of it—a little more than a day’s wage).¹¹ Rather, they wanted to know if Jesus supported the temple tax. Such a question must have sounded a little ridiculous to Peter. Why worry about taxes when death is right around the door? Some hear a little presumption in Peter’s voice when he responds, “Yes, he does” (v. 25), returning to Jesus to see if he was right (vv. 25–27). I wonder if Peter’s simple response reveals a bit of appeasement: “Yeah, whatever.” As he grieves over the imminent death of Jesus, taxes would have been the least of his concerns. Besides, even though supporting the temple was crucial to Israel’s holiness, the legitimacy of a compulsory, annual tax was highly contested—even among the religious leaders. The Pharisees were for it. The Sadducees may have opposed it. The Essenes found the middle, supporting a once-in-a-lifetime payment.¹² What was Jesus’s position on the subject? Well, the way they asked their question, the tax collectors assumed Jesus supported their effort.¹³ Was it because he had paid it before? Yet, if that was the case, why would they ask the question? There seems to be some question about Jesus’s loyalty to the temple, perhaps due to his statement that “something greater than the temple is here” (12:6).¹⁴ Of course, if Jesus paid the temple tax, the issue would be settled. Jesus was for the temple tax. Or, was he?

We’re about to discover that Jesus didn’t believe in the politics of economic “purity,” where money is supposed to indicate one’s ideology. The Pharisees will try to put Jesus on the horns of a dilemma to force him to take a position on taxes (22:15–17). But Jesus will expose the hypocrisy of their question when he forces them to produce a Roman coin even as they stand in the sacred precincts of the temple (vv. 18–20). His famous line, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s” (v. 21), revealed that he refused to play their political game (a point we will explore later). But suffice it to say at this point that Jesus didn’t believe money was a sign of political loyalty—a notion that eats away at the fabric of American politics. “If you are a ‘true believer,’ you’ll give us your money.” Instead, when it comes to money, Jesus operated according to a higher standard, one that places a premium on the value of people. Since heavenly power doesn’t have a price, loyalty can’t be bought. Therefore, how we treat others—even our political enemies—is the true indicator of our devotion to God. Imagine how messy that makes the politics of money when you love your enemies, even with your cash. The reverse is true as well; just because someone supports a “holy cause” doesn’t necessarily mean that they share the cause’s political ideology.

That’s the gist of Jesus’s lesson for Peter. Those in power excise taxes from the powerless (17:25).¹⁵ Since they are sons of the kingdom—God’s powerful reign on earth—they are exempt (v. 26).¹⁶ Nevertheless, Jesus taught Peter that they were going to go ahead and pay the temple tax so as not to offend the collectors (v. 27). Jesus believed in giving power away—his death on the cross would be the ultimate proof of that. Of course, the tax collectors would interpret monetary payment as endorsement of their cause. But, the way a Messiah and a fisherman would “cough up the money” for the tax would tell another story—an inside joke between them and us.

I used to be a little ashamed of this story. It seemed so random, so odd, so unnecessary, even a bit glib. Jesus telling Peter to catch a fish, only to discover a coin in its mouth for the exact amount they owed for the compulsory temple tax (v. 27), sounded weird to my young-adult, sensible, modern ears. Yet now I find it whimsically endearing—perhaps because I no longer have this youthful compulsion to make sense of everything. The older I get, the more I’m drawn to the mysterious. And this is one strange, hard-to-understand story—one that seems to intrigue more than it explains. Why did Jesus choose such an odd way to pay the temple tax? Consider how much it would help if we knew the look on Jesus’s face when he gave Peter the directive. Was Jesus smirking when he predicted the miracle? Grinning from ear to ear, eyes dancing with excitement? If he were, then we might think Jesus was being somewhat subversive, refusing to dip into their moneybag to pay the tax. Or, was he annoyed by the whole thing, rolling his eyes in disgust? This was no big deal; just go fishing, and you’ll take care of the matter. Moreover, what did Peter do? Did he walk immediately out the door, grab a fishing pole, and head for the lake? Did Peter catch the fish with the coin in its mouth?¹⁷ And, having done so, would he march right up to the tax collectors and triumphantly place the fishy coin in their hands? “Whew, Peter. I know you’re a fisherman, but this coin stinks. Where did you get it?” “You’d never believe me if I told you.”

Indeed, this story is hard to believe, but the lesson it teaches is fairly clear. Even Jesus knew we would need to count on the providence of God when it comes to meeting our financial responsibilities. “So, they want their temple tax, huh? Okay, let’s count on God to make it happen. It will be serendipitously wonderful!”¹⁸ Indeed, given some of the amazing stories I’ve heard about how God has supplied money to Christ followers trying to do what is right, catching a fish with a coin in its mouth seems like small potatoes—a simple fishing tale of God’s marvelous concern for every little thing, even paying taxes. It takes a big God to pull off such a small miracle. Perhaps we should say, then, that the only thing certain in this world is the providence of God.

LIVE the Story

Time and money are two things we can never get enough of; death and taxes are two certainties we can’t escape. Knowing that we only have so much time and so little money, in the last ten years it has become fashionable to speak of a bucket list—things people want to do before they die (“kick the bucket”). It sounds like a worthy exercise, trying to seize the day and not waste our lives on things that don’t matter. It’s easy to get trapped in the routine of life, working for the weekends and paying taxes. Death hangs over all our heads like a prison sentence. Adventuresome types appear to negotiate our common death threat in a more appealing fashion, always ready to throw caution to the wind and take a hike when it strikes them. Planners, on the other hand, will often wring their hands over trivial matters, wondering whether they’ve managed their time wisely, hoping they’ve prepared for an uncertain future. Whether it was the thrill seekers living large or the planners sick of the routine, the bucket list became a cultural meme, coaxing everyone to take inventory of our brief lives. The idea of having a Rip-van-Winkle epiphany, awaking on our deathbed from a long, sleepy life, haunted us. Coming to the end of our time on earth, having to face the nightmarish question of regret—“If I had it to do all over again, what would I change?”—scared us to death. Or, more accurately, it scared us to life, making us swear to ourselves that we would try to cram everything we could—every desirable experience, every beautiful scene—into our vapid existence. Indeed, in the midst of our existential angst, it became virtuous to speak openly of our bucket list, comparing notes with one another, swapping ideas on how to live life to the fullest.

Did Jesus have a bucket list? What would be on his list of things to do before he died? See the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World? Visit the glorious city of Rome? Experience the thrill of watching gladiators fight to the death? Or would his bucket list include more sublime goals, like spending more time with family, taking in the beauty of sunsets, or soaking up every moment around a campfire with good food, good friends, and good conversation? More than anyone else, Jesus knew his days were numbered; he only had so much time on earth to live life to the fullest. If there was ever a man who should have had a list of things he wanted to do before he “kicked the bucket,” it was Jesus. Yet, somehow we know Jesus would never have a bucket list. In fact, it sounds rather sacrilegious to think that he did—and that should tell us something.

To be sure, Jesus had things to do before he died, like teaching his disciples how to have faith in God. In his absence he knew faith would be the key to living life to the fullest in the kingdom of God. Surprisingly, when his disciples lacked faith, he didn’t give them a lengthy sermon, explaining how to keep faith. He simply pointed to a mustard seed and said, “This much faith will do the trick.” When the tax collectors came knocking at his door (they always show up, don’t they?), he didn’t start a theological debate about the politics of money. He simply said to Peter, “Why don’t you go fishing and see what God provides?” Regardless of the circumstances, Jesus tried to get his disciples to rest in the assurance that God will take care of us. Whether we are trying to heal the sick or having to pay taxes, all we need to do is have faith in him. It sounds too simple to be true, but it is just that simple. In fact, if Jesus had a bucket list, there would be only one thing on it—what he would expect any of us to do before we die: “Have faith in God.”

Besides, why would we try to visit the Seven Wonders of the World—ancient or modern—before we die? We will see it all in the resurrection because Jesus died and was raised from the dead.

Today is March 18. Tax day is right around the corner. I think I’ll go fishing. There’s no telling what I will catch.

1. Bruce M. Metzger, The Text of the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968), 5–6; also idem, Manuscripts of the Greek Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981), 16–17.

2. The options seem to include: to serve as an object lesson on how to avoid offense, to confirm Jesus’s divine status as God’s Son, to confirm Jesus’s disciples as his brothers, or to prepare the reader for Jesus’s rejection of the temple (see Garland, Reading Matthew, 189–90).

3. The temple tax became a compulsory tax collected by the Romans after AD 70 (Keener, Matthew, 444).

4. Garland, Reading Matthew, 186.

5. Luz, Matthew, 2:410, 418–20.

6. Nolland, Matthew, 712.

7. Luz, Matthew, 2:408.

8. Ibid., 2:407; different from epilepsy (France, Matthew, 659n10).

9. “The reason why ‘mustard seed’ faith can be so effective has to do not with the adequacy of faith but with the adequacy of God” (Nolland, Matthew, 716).

10. France, Matthew, 660–61.

11. For details regarding the temple tax—its basis, requirements, purpose, and the controversy surrounding compulsory payment—see Nolland, Matthew, 722–25.

12. For further discussion, see Luz, Matthew, 2:414–15.

13. The negative particle with the indicative verb expects an affirmative response.

14. France thinks the tax collectors asked because they anticipated Jesus wouldn’t pay (Matthew, 666).

15. Since Jesus used a “secular” analogy, it could be inferred that a Roman tax was being levied; see Carter, Matthew and Empire, 135–40, as well as the discussion in Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:738–41.

16. One wonders why Jesus didn’t press the issue even further by declaring, “We should be the ones collecting taxes!” But that would encourage simony among those who are blind to the power of metaphor. Some people don’t recognize a good analogy when they see one—especially when it comes to money. Indeed, we have a hard time thinking clearly about money because it is a very powerful thing.

17. France has his doubts, preferring to speak of Jesus’s “prediction” as a “playful comment . . . never intended to be taken literally” (Matthew, 667). Instead, “[It should be read] as an ironical comment on their lack of resources” (ibid., 671).

18. Carter writes, “The story not only emphasizes God’s sovereignty over creation, but also over the tax” (Matthew and Empire, 142).