Lest we should offend them. — Those who note the finer shades of language, can scarcely fail to trace in these words the tone of what we should describe in a human teacher as a half-playful, half-serious irony. When they were last at Capernaum, the disciples, Peter probably their spokesman (Matthew 15:12; Matthew 15:15), had remonstrated with their Master for proclaiming a bold, broad principle of spiritual morality against the traditions of the Schools: “Knowest thou that the Pharisees were offended when they heard that saying?” Now He proclaims another principle, equally bold and far-reaching, and as certain to offend. He reminds the disciple of his former fear, sees that some such feeling is already rising up in his mind, and recognises that within certain limits it is legitimate. To have refused to pay the didrachma on purely personal grounds would have been to claim prematurely that title of the Christ, the “Son of God,” which He had told His disciples at this crisis not to claim for Him (Matthew 16:20). To have done so on general grounds, common to Himself and others, would have been to utter a truth for which men were not prepared, and which they were certain to pervert. Those who had not learnt the higher law of the free gift of love would be tempted to make their freedom an excuse for giving nothing. Devout and generous minds would be shocked at what would seem to them to cut off the chief support of the outward glory of the House of God. The spirit in which our Lord spoke and acted was one with that which was the guide of St. Paul’s life: “It is good” to surrender even the freedom which we might well claim, if by it “thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak” (Romans 14:21).
A piece of money. — The Greek gives the name of the coin, the stater. It was reckoned as equal to four drachmæ, and would therefore pay the didrachma both for Peter and his Master. Incidentally, we may note the light which this throws on the poverty of our Lord and His disciples. They had returned from their wanderings in the north of Palestine, occupying some three or four weeks, and they were now absolutely penniless, not so much as a stater between them. The money was to be given for both, and so far, as has been said, our Lord includes Peter in the list of those who, as “children of the kingdom,” might have claimed exemption. No payment is made for the other disciples: most probably they had homes of their own, where the didrachma would be applied for, and were not living with Peter.
We cannot ignore the many points of contrast which difference this narrative from that of our Lord’s miracles in general. (1.) There is no actual record that a miracle was wrought at all. We expect the narrative to end with the words, “and he went and found as it had been said unto him,” but we do not find them. The story is told for the sake of the teaching, not of the wonder. Men have inferred that a miracle must have been wrought from a literal interpretation of the promise. (2.) On this assumption the wonder stands alone by itself in its nature and surroundings. It does not originate in our Lord’s compassion, nor depend upon faith in the receiver, as in the miracles of healing, nor set forth a spiritual truth, like that of the withered fig-tree. It is so far distinct and peculiar. This would not in itself, perhaps, be of much, if any, weight against a direct statement of a fact, but it may be allowed to be of some significance in the exceptional and therefore conspicuous absence of such a statement. On these grounds some have been led to explain our Lord’s words as meaning, in figurative language which the disciple would understand, that Peter was to catch the fish, and sell it for a stater. Most interpreters, however, have been content to take our Lord’s words in their literal sense, and to believe that they were literally fulfilled. If we accept this view the narrative has its parallel in the well-known story of the ring of Polycrates, the tyrant of Samos (Herod. iii. 39-41).