Pentecost 7B
July 12, 2015
Mark 6:14-29
Whoever said
that the Bible is a guidebook for how to live a righteous life, and a go-to
resource for living as God intends us to, has never read the 6th chapter
of Mark. Because today, we get a story so gruesome and grisly it practically
requires an R rating. It is the story of the beheading of John the Baptist.
It wasn’t
all that long ago that we heard about the birth of John the Baptist – an
occasion full of joy and hope and light. John has lived a life that yes, may
have confused some people, but also enchanted them and drew them to him. He had
many followers, and, our text today tells us, even
Herod, who would later
command John’s death, “liked to listen to him,” even though he found John’s
teachings greatly perplexing. And yet now we get this story, told as a
flashback, of the sad and gory end to the life of this this prophet and
forerunner of Jesus.
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| The head of John the Baptist (Ononio Marinari) |
No, I
wouldn’t call this a text to live by. But it is still a text from which we can
learn about God’s call to us about how to be in the world. In this case, Mark
accomplishes this by telling us basically how not to live. In other words, this text shows us examples of what it
looks like to be living, as we Lutherans often say during our confession, “in
bondage to sin.”
First let’s
look at Herodias, Herod’s illicit wife. She is really a piece of work, right? She
was married to Herod’s brother Philip, but now is married to Herod, which is a
big no-no by Jewish law. John the Baptist, being a righteous man, had done
everything in his power to keep this marriage from happening, but to no avail.
But Herodias never forgot John’s efforts to keep her from being queen. As Mark
tells us, she held a smoldering grudge against him for meddling in her
business, a grudge so deeply entrenched and causing in her such resentment that
she wanted this righteous man dead. Herod, in turn, had throws John into jail,
mostly to protect him, where he remained on this night of Herod’s birthday party.
For Herodias, jail wasn’t good enough, and she continued to loathe the man.
(Anyone else feel like this is a soap opera set up?)
In his
Sermon on the Mount, Jesus describes holding grudges and thinking bad thoughts
about your neighbor as akin to murder, and our understanding of that
commandment in the Small Catechism says the same. So in this way, Herodias has
already been murdering John by holding a deep grudge, refusing to forgive, and
nursing her resentment. She is so bound by her hatred and
unwillingness to
forgive this man for trying to uphold the law and not allowing her what she
wanted, that she takes her murderous thoughts to the next level, having him
killed. That, friends, is the power of resentment and hatred.
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| Herodias (Delaroche) |
Though the
situations we find ourselves in may not be quite so dramatic as Herodias’, do
we not face feelings like this all the time? A person who hates another will
quickly take advantage of an opportunity to strike, and speak ill of them. Though
our own unforgiveness, resentment, and grudges don’t generally lead to
beheading (at least not in my experience!), we have our own tools for murder:
malicious gossip, for example, or ignoring someone’s need, or simply being
unfriendly. How, then, do we avoid murder? The Catechism offers a helpful
antidote to this bondage to sin: Luther suggests that when we feel such vicious
sin arising in our hearts, that we instead “defend [our neighbor], speak well
of him, and explain his actions in the kindest way.” Oh, it is difficult to do
that, when our hatred is so real, and when the fault of the other person is so
deep. But letting our hatred toward another fester puts us in the same category
as the murderous Herodias. So where do we find the strength to combat this sin?
I have a
friend who is in the process of quitting smoking. Every day he posts an update
on Facebook about how many days it has been, and how he feels today. Brief as
they are, each day’s post seems to glimmer with a little more hope that he can
actually kick this habit, as well as some benefit that has already come from
the effort. Could kicking the habit of letting our murderous inclinations dominate
be similar, such that each time we feel inclined toward some nasty thought, we
instead stop ourselves, and think of a kind one instead? It is a hard
discipline, but perhaps “one day at a time” or “one thought at a time” could be
a motto not only to help us break out of addiction, but also out of this, our
bondage to sin.
The second
character to look to as an example of our bondage to sin is Herod himself.
Herod is an interesting and complex guy. Where Herodias seems to be
characterized by her hatred, Herod’s attitude is a bit more nuanced. Mark tells
us that Herod was “greatly perplexed” by John’s teachings on sin and repentance
– probably because though he knew on some level that John was right, Herod
could not seem to break free of his sinful ways. He loved the power he had, he
loved his reputation, he loved having what he wanted when he wanted it. And so,
you see, his heart is divided – he knows what he should do, but does not
possess the strength to do it.
We see his struggle
so clearly in this moment when Herodias, through her daughter, makes her
murderous request for John’s head. Mark tells us that Herod was “deeply grieved”
by the request.
He didn’t want to do it. He knew it was the wrong thing to do.
And yet, his reputation was on the line. He knew his wife to be a hateful
woman, and he would likely have backlash from reneging on his offer to give
whatever the daughter wanted. He knew killing John was wrong, but he did it
anyway, because he was afraid to do otherwise.
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| King Herod |
It’s another
example of being in bondage to sin that hits very close to home! While, again,
this is a rather dramatic example (we don’t usually make decisions about
whether someone will live or die), we all face moral dilemmas all the time,
situations in which we know, on some level, the right thing to do, but don’t
possess the willpower or courage or humility to do it. We are too occupied with
questions like, “What will people think?” We are too enamored with our ability
to justify our actions, even if we know they are wrong. “I know I shouldn’t
have said that about her, but she really deserved it.” “I shouldn’t laugh at
that racist joke, but everyone else is, and I don’t want to look like a snob.”
“I should go visit my friend who is sick, but I wouldn’t know what to say and
it would be awkward, so I just won’t go, and avoid the situation.” The human
heart can always find reasons to avoid doing what is right.
I have a
pretty strong memory from 5th grade, when a group of my friends were
in a car together, as well as one girl, we’ll call her Katelyn, who was not
very popular. We were singing Disney songs in the car (as 10-year-olds are wont
to do), and Katelyn mostly just listened. The next week, Katelyn wrote a note
to one of the girls telling her what a nice voice she had. A kind gesture, to
be sure, and a courageous one! But my friend came running over and showed us
the note, giggling about how silly it was. We all laughed right along with her.
I looked over and saw Katelyn watching us laugh at her kind note. I felt
terrible. I knew I should stop the laughing, and tell Katelyn it was a nice
note. But you know what stopped me? I was jealous. I wished it had been written
to me. And so my bondage to sin took over, and I justified not doing the right
thing.
These sorts
of moral dilemmas can hit us at any time (even at Herod’s own birthday party), and
at any age (even 5th grade). When they do, will we do what is right?
Or will we do what is easy? The Apostle Paul talks about this, about knowing
what to do, but not having the power to do it. It is easy to see in Herod’s
story what he should have done, but in our own stories, it is so tempting to
justify or overlook our unrighteous actions. How do we overcome this
temptation?
The Gospel
lesson usually offers a word of hope and good news, but in this case, let’s
look to the Psalm for that word of hope. The opening line says, “I will listen
to what the Lord God is saying…” If we listen, really listen to God – in
prayer, in Scripture study – God’s Word will drown out all those other
competing voices and confusion. It isn’t always easy to hear, that’s for sure.
Often our own sinful ways try to shout louder than God’s own still, small
voice. But if we truly listen to what God would direct us toward doing, we will
know what is right. And that is when we pray for the strength to do it.
Stories like
this, when they appear in the Bible, don’t offer us much in the way of
inspirational quotes, but they do serve as an important mirror into our own
lives. The Bible is an account of salvation history, and the deep need of a
fallen humanity for Christ. May we be courageous enough to read stories like
this, to reflect on them in light of our own lives, and to turn, in the end,
toward Christ.
Let us pray…
Merciful God, you know our sinful ways
better than we ourselves do. Guide us by your Word out of the way of sin, and
into the light of your glory. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the
Holy Spirit. Amen.
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