8th Sunday after Pentecost

Amos 7:7-15; Psalm 85:8-13; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:14-29

Mark 6:14-29

¹⁴ King Herod heard of [the disciples’ preaching,] for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” ¹⁵ But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” ¹⁶ But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
  ¹⁷ For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. ¹⁸ For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to marry your brother’s wife.” ¹⁹ And Herodias had a grudge against John, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, ²⁰ for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When Herod heard John, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. ²¹ But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. ²² When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” ²³ And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” ²⁴ She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” The mother replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” ²⁵ Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” ²⁶ The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. ²⁷ Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. The soldier went and beheaded John in the prison, ²⁸ brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. ²⁹ When John’s disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

. . .

The Speaker of Peace

Grace to you, beloved of God, and peace from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I was determined to steer away from the beheading of John the Baptist this Sunday. I really was. I was not in the mood. I wanted to preach from Psalm 85. It is such an uplifting and optimistic piece of ancient poetry—such a beautiful prayer. I still will, but I realized I could not turn from the gospel scene once I read it this morning. It is too grotesque. It clings to you. The level of human moral corruption is perhaps only second to the arrest and crucifixion of Jesus. 

Let’s go back a bit. King Herod the Great, the one who had remodeled the temple to the glory of the time and also, according to the gospels, ordered infanticide in an attempt to kill the announced Messiah, is dead. He was not an Israelite. He was from a prominent family from the kingdom of Edon, southeast of Judea. The family that had acquired their wealth out of servitude to the Romans. His father had been made the overseer of Judea, and he appointed young Herod governor of Galilee. Sometime during this process, the whole family converted to Judaism to gain sympathy from Jerusalem’s aristocracy and likely to balance their principle of serving the Romans at all costs since their conquest of Palestine some 60 years before Jesus’ birth. That worked well for Herod in the end.  After some tumult in Jerusalem, the Romans eventually moved to crown Herod as king of Judea, thanks to the family’s loyalty to Caesar. 

When Herod the Great died, about four years after the birth of Christ, he left to his son, Antipas, the ruling rights to Galilee, again, with the blessing of Rome. Antipas eventually married Herodias, who had divorced his brother Philip after having a daughter named Salome with him. By the way, both Antipas and Philip were Herodias’ uncles. We start to realize now why John the baptism developed a serious beef against the family. Not only was divorce not permitted under Jewish law, but their relationship would be considered incest. The Romans were fine with all that, but not the herald of our Messiah. We all know that eventually, the Baptizer speaking of truth to power got him in jail.

At this point, one could blame this on the Herod family’s clever system manipulation. Unethical? Sure. Inappropriate under Jewish law? Absolutely. But in the end, it was legal under Roman domination, and the family was not even made of Israelites, to begin with. Things could even end up well for cousin John in the long run—we all know him to be a troublemaker anyway—because, in the end, Antipas was fond of him. 

But here, in the beheading scene depicted by Mark, is when things get totally corrupt and immoral. It gets rotten to the core, actually, beginning with the head of the family. 

Antipas, following the footsteps of his father, had surrendered God’s people, Israel, to the exploitation and abusive Roman economic practices. While the people were being impoverished by their occupiers, their “king” was throwing out parties and banquets on the backs of the people thanks to a taxation system that benefited the upper echelon while depriving the average Israelites of basic dignity. The gospels reflect their struggles. People were losing the land of their ancestors and enslaving themselves to big farm owners. They were hungry, and they were sick.

Antipas’s indifferent behavior is so egregious that it risks making an afterthought of the fact that he seemed infatuated, alongside his male guests, with his stepdaughter. His character is so shallow that he feels he has to save face in front of everybody. Eventually, he gives up his appreciation of John the Baptist to Herodias’ vindictive scheme, which finds in her daughter a willing participant. The young lady adds to the cruelty of the scene by requesting John’s head to be put on a serving plate. 

All this is bad, egregious, and immoral. It illustrates what human beings can inflict on each other, either by convenient oblivion or to protect what they want. Yesterday evening, we witnessed some of it again on live TV. The whole thing is sickening because it is a sickness, a pathology that we have no power to cure or at least treat ourselves. That is the sick old self refusing to be drowned, and that is what the body of Christ was raised to be against.

It is not by coincidence that the scene in Atipas court under Mark’s overall gospel happens immediately after Jesus’ rejection in his own hometown and after the disciples are sent to face the world by themselves, as we heard last Sunday. The Evangelist’s audience following the narrative would understand what those proclaiming the word of God in Jesus Christ would risk facing: the brokenness of the human condition and the perversion of our old selves. 

Sometimes, that raises the indignation of those who trust and love God, and God places the Spirit upon them to speak on God’s behalf. They don’t speak peace because peace is inexistent, and the neglect of the powerless, the vulnerable, and the abused reigns. John the Baptist was one of those. Amos was another.

Amos, a simple and ordinary person, a shepherd and keeper of fruit trees, is given the task of going against Goliath. The royal house of King Jeroboam, dwelling in riches and ignoring the people’s struggles eight centuries before Herod Antipas – I told you this is a pathological behavior that has been around for a long time. Through Amos, we learn they were more interested in getting away by executing proper rituals and offerings than in tending to God’s people Israel. That frame of mind, treating their relationship with God as a transaction and not a trusting response to the steadfast love and Grace of the God that had freed them and provided to them as people, would event lead to the death of Jeroboam by the Assyrian Army and the exile into a distant land a few decades after Amos. 

Sometimes, God gives warnings, even to the prophetic voices, even to those he sends to proclaim his words – one tunic … travel light…trust me… 

Eventually, God did something a little more majestic, though. God heard the cries of the people. God heard the cries of those who grieve quietly in the night and yet muster the bravery to go on. God heard the cries of those who long to witness better things, long for a world of love, mercy, and justice, and who had fallen to their knees in desperation but remained faithful to God’s promises of liberation, forgiveness, or both. God indeed heard the cries for restoration.

[God spoke] peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turned to him in their hearts (Psalm 85:8; NRSVue).”

“He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, 

according to the good pleasure of his will, 

to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. 

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, 

according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us … according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, 

as a plan for the fullness of time.” (Ephesians 1:5-10; NRSVue)

“ [We have] heard the word of truth, the gospel of [our] salvation, and had believed in him, [we] were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit (Ephesians 1:13 NRSVue).”

“Righteousness will go before him (Psalm 85:13; NRSVue).” Thanks be to God. Amen.