Look in your pockets right now, or check your wallet, your purse, or your phone. You’ve got a driver’s license, a credit card, a few bills, or an app linked directly to your bank account. Those things belong to this world. They represent the work we do, the bills we pay, the taxes we owe, and the rules of the society we live in every single day. In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees and Herodians try to corner Jesus with that exact reality, asking what they think is an impossible question: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” They thought they had Him trapped. If He says yes, the crowd thinks He’s selling out to Rome. If He says no, they arrest Him for treason right on the spot.

Jesus doesn’t blink. As Dominicans, our motto is Veritas—Truth. And Truth doesn’t play games with politics. Jesus looks right past the setup and tells them to show Him the coin. When they hand Him a denarius, He looks at it and asks whose image and inscription is on it. They tell Him it’s Caesar’s, and that is when Jesus drops the hammer: “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.” A lot of folks hear that and think it’s just a nice civic lesson about paying your taxes, obeying the law, and keeping your faith quietly tucked into a corner on Sunday morning. That is not what Jesus is saying. Look at the coin. Caesar’s face is stamped onto a piece of metal pulled out of the dirt, minted by an empire that eventually crumbled to dust. Caesar’s face was on it, so Caesar had a claim on it. Fine. Hand Caesar his pocket change. But whose image is stamped on you?

The Book of Genesis tells us that on the sixth day, God made us in His own image and likeness—the imago Dei. You do not have the stamp of an emperor. You don’t belong to a government, an economy, a political party, or the culture of this world. Your soul bears the permanent, eternal seal of the Living God. When Jesus says give God what belongs to God, He isn’t talking about tipping a few dollars in the collection basket, and He isn’t talking about checking a religious box or going through the motions of dead routine. He is asking for your life: your marriage, your mind, your praise, and your whole heart.

Here is where we mess up: we think we know better than God. We get down to pray, and instead of asking for His will, we try to give God advice. We hand Him our timeline, we lay out our demands, and we treat the Creator of the universe like an employee we’re trying to manage. We do not know better than God—not in our trials, not when we’re waiting, not in our grief, and not when life feels like it’s falling apart. Whenever you pray, and whenever you act in this world, remember who you belong to. When you get on your knees, you aren’t managing God; you are surrendering to your Father. When you walk into your job, your home, or your neighborhood, you don’t carry your own badge. You represent the King of kings. When you remember who you belong to, you stop running on your own strength, fear loses its grip, and real faith takes over.

Paul tells the Thessalonians in our second reading that the Gospel didn’t come in word only—it came in power, in the Holy Spirit, and with full conviction. That is the charismatic heartbeat of this church. We aren’t here for empty routine. We are here because the Holy Spirit breaks chains, heals bodies, and restores families when we actually surrender. This hits close to home for Alma and me this month. October is the month both my dad, Vincent F. Bellino, and Alma’s dad, Arturo Noriega, finished their race and entered eternity. Both of these men were military veterans who wore the uniform of this country with pride. They understood duty, honor, discipline, and giving Caesar what was owed. More than that, both my dad and Arturo knew who held their real allegiance. They knew they didn’t know better than the Lord. When the uniform came off, and when their earthly breath finally gave out, they knew whose image was on their souls. They didn’t stand before Caesar; they stood before the God who called them home. They gave Caesar his due, but they gave God their lives.

That is the call on every single one of us today. You’ve got a life to live. Work hard, serve your community, and take care of your business with integrity. But do not ever hand this world the things that belong exclusively to God. Don’t give the culture your identity, don’t surrender your peace to political noise, and don’t let fear dictate your life. You belong to Jesus Christ. Let Caesar keep his silver. Before you leave this church today, I want you to ask yourself this question: Starting this afternoon, what part of your life are you going to stop holding back from God, so that the way you pray, the way you surrender, and the way you lead your family actually points them straight to heaven?

Amen.