The Servant and Three Questions | Mark 12:13-34
Sermon Summary
I want to begin by saying how much I treasure the privilege of parenting. I’m grateful for my four sons and the blessing they are to our family. It’s a calling that can be filled with a thousand little joys—some of you know exactly what I mean. It’s also a role that comes with many challenges, one of which is the sheer onslaught of questions our children sometimes bring. There’s that season in a child’s life where every single thing provokes a “Why?” and if you’re not ready, you can feel like you’re being interrogated about everything you believe and do. Perhaps you’ve experienced that very moment when you realize you’re explaining details you’ve never really considered before. And yet, in many ways, as we grow older, we don’t stop asking questions. They just become more complex.
In Mark chapter 12, Jesus also faces a barrage of questions. But unlike the sincere exploration of a little child, these questions are driven by malicious intent. They come rapid-fire from three different groups—Pharisees with Herodians, the Sadducees, and a lone scribe. Each has an angle. Each is seeking to “trap” or discredit Jesus in some way. Still, there is something beautifully instructive about the way Jesus fields these questions and reveals God’s truth.
We find these three questions arranged one after the other during the Passion Week—His final week in Jerusalem. Christ is about to go to the cross. Despite this, He does not shirk these tricky theological and political challenges. He answers, and His responses shine a spotlight on our own hearts, as well as on who He truly is.
A Question about Taxes
The first question comes from a team nobody saw coming: the Pharisees and the Herodians working together. If you want to imagine two polar opposites, these were them. The Pharisees were the conservative religious leaders, deeply concerned with Jewish law and purity. The Herodians, by contrast, were pro-government supporters of Rome’s dominion—a position that put them at odds with the Pharisees. Yet both parties disliked Jesus. Both found their perceived common enemy in Him, so they team up and approach Christ.
They start by flattering Him: “Teacher, we know you are true, and you teach God’s way faithfully. You don’t care about people’s status or position.” But then they ask, “Is it lawful for us to give tribute to Caesar, or not?” This wasn’t a mere inquiry about ordinary taxes—it was about the hated imperial tax every Jew paid to the occupying Roman government. The question had an edge. If Jesus answered, “Go ahead and pay the tax,” He would seem like a traitor to Jewish hopes. If He answered, “No, don’t pay it,” then Rome could arrest Him for stirring up rebellion. They figure they have a perfect trap.
Jesus, perceiving their trickery, requests a denarius. He asks, “Whose image is on this coin?” They answer, “Caesar’s.” And He delivers that masterful line: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” With a single statement, He upends their dilemma. He reminds them that while they do indeed live under certain earthly authorities—like Caesar—there’s a higher loyalty they must not ignore. If Caesar’s likeness is on that coin, by all means pay what belongs to him. But do not forget that you bear the very image of God. So, as you give Caesar your tax, give God your full self.
That statement is deeply relevant. It reminds us we all have a dual citizenship. We’re here on earth, under human governments, and so we pay taxes, obey laws, and exist in a civic context. But we’re also citizens of heaven—made in the image of God—and our ultimate devotion should be toward Him. The leaders marvel at Jesus. He’s neither an insurrectionist nor a sellout. He refuses to let them reduce worship merely to an earthly duty. With that, the first trap question is answered, and the Pharisees and Herodians have no further reply.
A Question About the Resurrection
But as soon as they depart, another group steps in—the Sadducees. They’re known for being wealthy and influential but also for denying key doctrines. The Sadducees deny angels, spirits, and most famously, they deny any sort of resurrection from the dead. So, they come with a scenario intended to mock the idea of eternal life.
They say, “Teacher, Moses wrote that if a man dies childless, his brother should marry his widow so there would be an heir to carry on the deceased brother’s name. Now suppose there are seven brothers. One marries a woman and dies without children. Then his brother marries her, but he dies childless too. This sad pattern continues until all seven brothers have married the same woman and died. Finally, the woman also dies. So in the resurrection—which we don’t believe in, by the way—whose wife is she?”
The question is absurd. You can almost sense the snickering. In their minds, it demolishes the idea of resurrection because it sounds chaotic. Surely heaven can’t handle this. But Jesus corrects them. First, He says they are ignorant of Scripture and the power of God. Then, He reveals that life in the resurrection doesn’t mirror life here. “When they rise from the dead,” He says, “they neither marry nor are given in marriage but are like the angels.” Now, Jesus doesn’t claim we cease to recognize each other or fail to recall earthly bonds. But He insists the resurrection world is greater—more real, more pure, and free from many earthly limitations and structures, including marriage as we know it.
He then rebukes them by referencing Moses again. God had once said to Moses, “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” He never said “I was,” He said “I am.” To the Lord, these patriarchs still live—God is not the God of the dead but of the living. This was the Sadducees’ own Torah, their revered Scripture, testifying of a living, ongoing relationship between God and His people beyond death. Having thus dismantled their challenge, Jesus upholds the truth that there is a glorious resurrection, not chained to our limited notions, but infinitely more wonderful than anything we can imagine. The Sadducees stand corrected.
A Question About the Greatest Commandment
The final question arrives courtesy of a lone scribe. He observes how Jesus answered both groups—correcting them, escaping the traps, and upholding Scripture. Impressed, he steps forward with a sincere question: “Teacher, which commandment is the greatest of all?”
Now, in Jewish tradition, there are 613 commandments identified in the Law. Various rabbis would debate which was “first,” or which was “heaviest” versus “lightest.” This scribe wants to know Jesus’ summary. And Jesus quotes Deuteronomy 6—the “Shema” recited morning and evening by devout Jews: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” Jesus adds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. This is the first commandment.” He calls them back to the core: a supreme love for God. True faith is not merely external or scattered among countless rituals. Instead, every fiber of our being—emotional, spiritual, intellectual, physical—should be pointed in devotion to God. That’s what it means to bear God’s image and to be in right relationship with Him.
But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He also gives the second command: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Here the vertical devotion to God overflows horizontally in love for fellow people. It’s as if He’s saying: “When your heart is enthralled by God, you inevitably pour out a compassionate, self-giving love toward others.” And with the love of God fueling our actions, the scribe admits that it is all greater than any burnt offering, more central than any temple sacrifice.
Seeing the scribe’s understanding, Jesus tells him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” It’s a compelling statement. The scribe has recognized the priorities of loving God and loving people. He understands worship is more than ritual; it’s a wholehearted devotion. And yet, he’s still only near the kingdom. Why? Because to enter requires placing one’s faith in Jesus Himself. Affirming the greatest commandment is good, but one must also accept Christ as Savior and King. The text implies the scribe had not quite made that leap of faith.
That final response closes the day’s barrage of inquiries. Mark comments that no one dared ask Jesus anything else. The attempts to trap Him or to show off are exhausted. Everything finds its resolution in Christ and in His wisdom.
Reflection
I find myself pondering how we can mirror the Lord’s responses in our own daily challenges. For some of us, we might be facing those “taxes” questions—real-life dilemmas about living responsibly under earthly systems, while also remembering we belong to God. We must give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, but let’s never forget that we are stamped with God’s image. Our whole selves—our worship, decisions, finances, hearts—ultimately belong to Him.
Others of us are wrestling with “resurrection” questions—big, existential questions about life’s pains, fears, and the world to come. Jesus tells us we are made for eternal life far better than anything we’ve known, where confusion and heartbreak vanish in the presence of a holy God. Even the best of relationships here only foreshadow the joy that awaits.
Finally, we might be standing alongside the scribe, asking which commandment or principle should anchor our faith. Jesus’ answer is straightforward but challenging: love God supremely, love others genuinely. Let that be the heartbeat behind everything we do. Such love can’t be reduced to mere feelings. It demands our complete devotion—and, in practical terms, moves us to serve our neighbors, care for those in need, and extend grace. We come up short on our own strength, but the Spirit of God empowers us to obey these commands in ways that reflect His mercy.
For all the queries life throws at us—some malicious, some sincere—we can learn from how our Savior faced each moment in Mark 12. Whether it’s grappling with government, eternity, or the core commandments of the faith, Jesus points us to truth that cuts through confusion: we’re citizens in a broken world, yet beholden to a loving God; we will live forever with Him in a reality surpassing our hopes; and we’re called to love with everything we have. May we respond by surrendering ourselves, hearts, souls, minds, and strength, to His sovereign love—and then display that love to a world filled with questions.
