One day Jesus—a crowd of people around him, both listening to what he had to say, and hoping he would feed them as he had done in the past—encountered a group of religious men. They had developed a crafty question for him, designed to trap him with his own words, in order to bring an accusation against him.

 

I present the story this way—it is the teacher part of me—because of the tremendous lesson in just that part of the story. Can you imagine finite minds (demonically inspired at that) competing with the infinite God? Yet, this is precisely what went down. The lesson to be learned is that God may be —and likely is—standing in front of you, offering you life, but if your heart is not open to him, you will always think you can one-up-him, or justify yourself to him. It is a powerful lesson.

 

These men saw their chance; a crowd of people around him was the perfect place to embarrass him and put him in his place. (That sounds so religious).

 

“Teacher,” they began, “tell us, is it right to pay taxes to Caesar?” I can imagine the hush that fell over the crowd as they put forth the question. No one wanted to pay taxes; the crowd must have thought that perhaps Jesus answer would justify them defying the order to pay them. The religious men, smug looks on their faces, with hands folded over their chest’s, their eyes trained firmly on his eyes, awaited his answer.

 

The tension mounted as these men with laser-eyes fixed on Jesus, and the crowd in breathless anticipation, waited for his answer. “Do you have a coin,” Jesus replied? Someone in the crowd shouted, “Yes, I do.” “Let me see it,” he said.

 

Examining the coin for what seemed like an eternity, Jesus finally spoke up. “Tell me, this image on the coin, whose is it,” he asked. Certain they had him, the religious men spoke up, “It is Caesar’s image.” Nodding his head while flipping the coin back to the man that had given it to him, he looked intently into the eyes of the religious men saying, “Then give to Caesar the things that belong to Caesar, and give to God the things that belong to God.”

 

The crowd was shocked, the religious men stumped, and no one said a word.

 

The answer—at least part of it—to learning how to let go, is found in Jesus’ response to the religious men’s question. You may recall that last week, that I mentioned learning how to let go. As long as humanity lives on planet earth, there will be a responsibility to “give to Caesar”—the world system—the things that belong to Caesar. This means that a portion of your focus will be on doing the necessary things that provide an income, take care of household needs and other obligations. However, the question remains, how do you let go, while doing the necessary things in life? Perhaps this will help clarify the answer.

 

In the film business, there is a technique used to draw focus on a particular person or object. When using this technique, the person or object is in clear focus in the foreground. You are supposed to look there. However in the background are other images; blurry as they are, they are also in the shot. You see them, you know they are there, but your focus isn’t on them. This is an image of letting go. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are in the forefront, you clearly see them. However, in the background is the problem, it has not gone away—but neither is it in focus.

 

You have the ability to quickly shift your focus from the godhead, back to the problem, but you also have the ability to quickly shift your focus away from the problem, back to the godhead. This is the process of learning how to let go, and learning how to shift your focus. At first, you will find yourself constantly shifting your focus from one to the other; it can be tiring—and many give up at this point.

 

One day a problem showed up at my door. Because of a miscalculation—that I made—in my finances, I was $1,000 short in paying my bills. At first, I was devastated, panic flooding my entire being. My focus was clearly on my problem. I began to pray. “God,” I began, “I realize that I did this. It is my fault; but it doesn’t change the fact that I need $1,000 in three days to pay these bills. I do not know what to do Lord.” I had begun shifting my focus away from the problem, onto the Lord.

 

A verse of scripture seemed to roll up from deep within me. It wasn’t like a thought coming from my mind; it was more like a knowing rising out of some deep place inside of me. The scripture was, “For my God shall supply all of my need according to his riches in glory, through Christ Jesus my Lord.” I began speaking it aloud; quietly at first, then louder and louder until I was speaking in my normal voice. At this point, my focus shifted away from the problem onto the Lord.

 

I repeated this many times throughout the day. Every time I became aware that my focus was on the problem, I began to speak that scripture. If I were in a crowded place, I would say it quietly to myself; if I were in a private place, I would say it aloud.

 

The next day—nothing having changed—I received a phone call from a friend, asking if we could meet for lunch the following day—the deadline for getting the needed money. In the meantime, I think I spent more time reciting that scripture—attempting to keep my focus on the Lord—than I did anything else, work included. Panic was certainly on the doorstep, but I was determined to keep my focus on the Lord.

All of my efforts to find some money, borrow some money—I didn’t think about stealing some money—proved to be useless. I was preparing to call the bank to find out what options they would allow me.

 

The lunch appointment came; our conversation nice—I did not tell anyone about my situation outside of those I had talked to about borrowing the money. My friend said that he wanted to meet with me because something had happened with his business. “Oh great,” I thought, “he is going to ask me about borrowing money!” “I had an unexpected job,” he continued, “that paid me a lot more than I anticipated. I asked the Lord what I should do with the extra money, and he told me to give it to you.”

 

I looked at him, smile on my face, about to faint. “Wow, that is great,” I said. “Yeah, it was pretty awesome,” he said, as he slid an envelope across the table. “Please, open it.” I did; in it was one thousand dollars. My eyes teared up as I looked at him to say thank you.

 

There is more to the story, but I trust you get the point of it. I struggled with keeping my focus on the Lord—this was before I understood the godhead. It was work, hard work, but I was determined to trust him. I brought the problem to him, and God the Holy Spirit prompted the answer to well up within me—I knew the word of God. I made the decision to hold on to that, even though I did what my human effort could do, and kept shifting my focus from the problem to him.

 

He proved himself faithful that day, as he will do for you.