Sermon for July 14

July 14, 2024

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott


Mark 6:14-29


We’ve spent the last several weeks thinking about the nature of power in the context of Jesus and his ministry. Two weeks ago we heard about Jesus’ ability to raise the dead, and then last week, his power seems to dry up in the face of the unbelief of the people in his home town. Today the scene shifts to the court of King Herod, which lets us think about the type of power that the world so often thinks of when we think about power. Herod has political power, the kind of political power that most of us will never experience. Every time that Herod appears, we see the limits of this kind of power.

An important historical note: the Herod of Mark 6 is not the Herod of Matthew 2 who had the encounter with the Magi who were looking for the new king of the Jews who had just been born. That was Herod the Great who felt so threatened by this news delivered by the Magi that he killed every boy in Bethlehem under the age of 2. The Herod who beheads John the Baptist is Herod Antipas, and there was a Herod between Herod the Great and Herod Antipas. These Jewish rulers did have a great amount of power, but not nearly as much as Roman emperors had. They had as much power as Rome allowed them to have, and it could be taken away if Rome decided that they weren’t ruling well.

At first read, Herod seems to have the kind of power that many absolute rulers, the kind that allows them to put a man to death just because he’s a bother. In this case, it’s John the Baptist who has been criticizing him—but the death doesn’t happen right away. The writer of the Gospel of Mark only gives us a brief bit of information about what makes Herod so immoral that John the Baptist criticizes him, taking the wife of his brother. Herod can’t abide this criticism, and so arrests John the Baptist, but he’s not completely closed off to the man. In fact, Herod protects him from the grudges of his new wife Herodias, and we find out that Herod likes to listen to John the Baptist, even though the man “perplexes” him. So why does Herod feel that he must kill John? It’s not because John criticizes him, although Herod can’t let that criticism go without punishment.

In today’s Gospel we see that Herod, the man who can have people jailed, the man who can start wars, the man who can marry his brother’s wife, ultimately, his power is limited too. Herodias develops a scheme, with the help of her daughter (confusingly named Herodias in this passage, although she is more commonly known as Salome) to have John the Baptist killed.

But make no mistake—Herod is still in charge. We can assume that Herodias has wanted John the Baptist dead for some time; it’s not a new desire, since Herod has protected John. What has changed?

We might be tempted to blame alcohol, and popular culture has often credited the seductive skills of the dancing daughter. But this is Herod, who is for all purposes, a king. He doesn’t have to do a thing he doesn’t want to do—unless Rome tells him he does, and certainly Rome does not particularly care whether or not some strange prophet criticizes the marital habits of Jewish rulers of the Jews.

In some ways, Herod seems as drained of power as Jesus. And what drains him of his power? The sway of other people. He’s made a promise in the presence of other people. If he says no, what will his guests think of him?

We might say that Herod has made an oath and that’s he’s honorable and feels he must keep his oath. But we know that’s not true. He divorced his first wife so that he could have Herodias. If we look into his history, he has a habit of disregarding the oaths he’s made to family, friends, and strangers alike. Herod wants power and he’ll do what it takes to get it. If it means he needs to behead John the Baptist to save face, he will. Saving face means he maintains power, although it’s hard to imagine that any of his dinner guests will stage an uprising because Herod goes back on his word to a dancing girl. Still, Herod is influenced by the court of popular opinion.

In an odd way, as I get older, I find Herod a sympathetic character, both the Herod who meets the Magi or the Herod that we meet here. Both Herods are so afraid of losing power that they make terrible decisions. We like to think that we would be different. We would recognize wisdom when it appears before us, either in the form of the Magi or the form of John the Baptist. But really, would we?

Herod in today’s Gospel serves as a warning to us all, even if we don’t have the power to order the beheading of a prickly prophet. Herod’s story shows us what is likely to happen if we care too deeply about the opinion of others instead of worrying about what really matters—it’s a problem that can rear its head when we least expect it, even if we’ve been alert.

If we care too much about the opinion of the people who surround us, we run the risk of making disastrous decisions. Perhaps not disastrous to the extent of a head on a platter, but disastrous to the ways that our lives might have been otherwise and disastrous to the vision that God has for creation.

Herod wonders if John the Baptist has come back to life when he hears the words of Jesus. Some see this as Herod feeling guilty. Going back to the text again and again, I found myself wondering about the similarities between the message of Jesus and the message of John. What does Herod hear?

Both men, Jesus and John, talked about God telling us that a new way of life is possible. Maybe Herod hears and ponders. But ultimately, he can’t respond to that message because he is too invested in the way that life is now. He has power, and in every scene in which a man named Herod appears throughout the Gospel, preservation of power is at the root of that man’s actions.

We may say that Herod has nothing to say to us, since we will likely never have that level of power. But in last week’s Gospel, we saw that it’s the rare person that is open to the message of Jesus and John; most of us are rarely able to see and hear the Good News, even if it stands right there in front of us, yelling or criticizing or healing.

Herod’s story offers a powerful testimony to the corrosive effects of power. We would be wise to think of our own power, our own feelings of inadequacy, how we attempt to control the elements of our lives or how we don't—all the ways that we pay attention to the opinions of random strangers instead of paying attention to those who have our best interests at heart.

How is God speaking to us today? What strange prophets prick at us, needling us to be better humans? What strangers come to tell us of signs of a new reign, God breaking through in new ways? How are we training ourselves to be alert so that we don’t miss out on God?