Pastor Aaron

The Counter-Gospel of "King" Herod

Mark 6:14-29

King Herod heard of it [that is, the recent adventures of Jesus’ disciples, whom Jesus had sent out two by two to heal the sick and cast out demons], 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." But others said, "It is Elijah." And others said, "It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old." 

But when Herod heard of it, he said, "John, whom I beheaded, has been raised." 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. For John had been telling Herod, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 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." And he solemnly swore to her, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom." 

She went out and said to her mother, "What should I ask for?" She replied, "The head of John the baptizer." 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." The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John's head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb. 


Giovanni Baronzio, "The Feast of Herod and the Beheading of the Baptist"

Giovanni Baronzio, "The Feast of Herod and the Beheading of the Baptist"

Today we hear of the events around the death of John the Baptist, according to Mark’s gospel. It is an uncharacteristic interruption in the gospel. Whereas Mark is typically interested in quickly jumping from one Jesus story to another, this story does not even include Jesus directly. The fact that this story is so unlike the rest of the gospel is our first clue to really pay attention. It is so unlike the rest of the gospel because it is laying out the counter-narrative to the good news of Jesus Christ. Today’s gospel text is a narrative warning depicting the dangers of seeking power in the wrong places.

First, let’s be clear about the title of “King” that is assigned to Herod in this story. The Herod mentioned here is not Herod the Great – the one who sought kill the infant Jesus by slaughtering the babies in the region around Bethlehem and forcing Mary, Joseph and Jesus to seek asylum in Egypt. That Herod is long gone. The Herod whom Mark mentions is Herod Antipas, the son of the Herod the Great; and Herod Antipas was not a King. He was more like a regional governor. The title “King” is most likely a tongue-in-cheek title meant to mock Herod; just as the title “Great” was a mocking title for his evil and destructive father. Far from a tidbit of knowledge useful only to history buffs, pastors, or trivia nerds; this fact is our second clue that Mark is up to something in this passage. Essentially, this is a work of political satire. It is revealing a universal truth by making a mockery of a well-known leader and system. 

This counter-narrative to the good news about a man-child who wanted desperately to be powerful reveals that Herod made a drunken promise to his daughter in front of his cronies; his daughter was manipulated by his wife (actually his brother’s wife, but that’s a whole ‘nother story); and he ended up having to save face in front of his people by agreeing to his daughter’s demand of John the Baptist’s head on a platter. Following John’s gruesome beheading, Herod heard accounts of Jesus of Nazareth and was afraid that Jesus was the ghost of John the Baptist, back to haunt him into insanity. Herod was a man haunted by his mistakes who clung to an abusive relationship with power in order to numb himself from his own pain.

A story with severed heads and leaders looking over their shoulders afraid of the ghosts of their past victims is analogous to Shakespeare’s Hamlet and seems fit for the TV show Game of Thrones. It makes for an entertaining show but the question remains…so what? What possible meaning does such a story have for our own lives today?

The truth, sorry to say, is that our world is infested with people like “King” Herod — people who lord their power over others and perpetuate injustice because the disfigured desire for power fills them with something them that is lacking inside. Having power over another individual or group of people helps them forget about being picked on as a kid or for not feeling loved by their mother or father, just to name a few common motivations. 

And once someone has a taste of power, they rarely pause and think, “You know, this power doesn’t actually fill that void in my soul.” Or, maybe this person deserves respect precisely because they are different from me.

Instead they seek out more power, assuming that the next bended knee, the next heap of praise, or the next nod of agreement will finally stop the pain of not being enough. They are blind to the needs of others in the same way that they are blind to their own needs. Such people can electrify huge crowds of people who feel a similar sense of dissatisfaction with life. A common enemy is labeled, dehumanized, taunted, and targeted. Such people know exactly who their enemies are – their enemies are anyone who doesn’t serve their own interests. Their enemies are anyone who dares to stand up and proclaim that there is another way. Their enemies are anyone who says the problem isn’t with those who are labeled as other, but rather a problem with the leader’s soul. 

Mark dedicates considerable space in his story to depict a weak man who chased the whims of others and perpetuated injustice in an effort to hold onto his sense of power. That depiction makes me think of someone in particular: Me.

In my most unhealthy moments, I feel like the only way to ever be worthy enough, powerful enough, and loved enough, and the only way to fill the void in my soul, is by putting myself over and above those who are different from me. 

I often speak to my therapist about all the things and people I use to fill the void in my life...and you are one of them, truth be told. I seek your affirmation in order to feel loved. I seek your praise in order to give my life meaning.

That’s terribly unhealthy. It puts you in an awful predicament of being responsible for my emotional well-being. It puts my needs above yours. And it puts you in a position that is only meant to be filled by the God of peace and love – a title that does not belong to you. 

I am sorry. I am sorry for my “King” Herod-ness. I am sorry for putting you in a tough spot. And I am sorry that I so easily participate in a world that regularly tosses aside people who do not seem to serve our immediate needs. 

This is not the good news, of course. As I said earlier, Mark tells the story of King Herod in order to highlight just how different John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth really were. And once I am able to see myself in the antagonist of the story and recognize just how dark and misleading that path is, only then my heart is open to the truth of the prophets as revealed by Jesus and John the Baptist.

Who were Jesus and John the Baptist? They were the ones who stood up and spoke about a better way. They were the ones who stood up in the best prophetic tradition and said, “Woe to you, oppressors of the poor and marginalized who seek to fill the void in your soul with violence instead of God’s love. Not only does your way create misery and destruction in others’ lives, but it is destroying your soul also. Repent from those ways and seek the love you desire solely from God’s presence, which has been a part of your soul from the very beginning.”

I came across the following words this week and found a beauty and necessity in them that I have to share with you. Rev. David Lose writes,

“We believe, teach, and confess that Jesus came to make possible for us more than mere survival, more than mere persistence, more even than mere success. Jesus came to help us to imagine that there is more to this life than we can perceive. Jesus came to offer us not just more life, but abundant life. Jesus came so that there could be a better ending to our stories and the story of the world than we can imagine or construct on our own. And when the Temple has just been destroyed, or your marriage is ending, or you've lost your job, or you fear your child will never speak to you again, or you're pretty sure your friend has betrayed you, or you think you may just have screwed up the one relationship that meant something to you...then the possibility of another ending -- a good ending -- is, indeed, not just good news, but the best news you can imagine.” (http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1621)

Thanks be to God, today and always, for the unmerited gift of true grace, love, and truth. May our eyes be opened to the darkness of our paths and may we be inspired and equipped to seek fulfillment in Christ alone. And may we all be encouraged to be a part of a better story for all people.

Amen.

Humble Passion

Mark 2:23–3:6

One sabbath [Jesus] was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then [Jesus] said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; 28 so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.


The message for today is about humility; and for once, Jesus is not the hero of the story. In fact, he is the example of what not to do.

Today’s gospel story comes in two parts, both dealing with Jesus’s confrontation with other religious people around the topic of the Sabbath.

In act one, Jesus and his disciples are walking on a journey and glean some wheat from a field. As this all takes place on the day of Sabbath, anyone who witnesses their actions is right to point out that Jesus and the disciples are in the wrong. The Sabbath day is a day of rest commanded by God. Journeying from one place to another is something that should be done on the other 6 days of the week. If they absolutely had to embark on a journey on a Sabbath day, the very least they could have done was to pack their lunches the day before. That is simply part of what it means to observe the Sabbath.

But here they are breaking long-held religious instructions in plain view.  When confronted by others, they do not apologize or offer an excuse. Instead, Jesus equates himself with David, who  broke Sabbath in order to feed people bread. Then Jesus goes even further by declaring that he is the Lord of the Sabbath. The religious people find this utterly despicable.

If you haven’t picked up on what the big deal is, perhaps it would help to recall that the disciples were teenagers and Jesus was likely in his late-twenties, early-thirties. This is a conflict on many levels, including generational. These young kids burst onto the scene with no respect for religious traditions, customs, or rules; and then have the audacity to say not only are they not sorry, but they are making new rules. 

And so, the scene is set for act 2, in which the Pharisees watch this arrogant rebellious Jesus enter the synagogue on the Sabbath and heal a man with a withered hand. 

If you haven’t found this interesting, even with me having just called Jesus “arrogant,” then maybe you’ll find this next idea compelling. 

Jesus is often made out to the be hero of these stories because he makes the claim that feeding and healing take priority over the religious barriers that would have otherwise prevented them from receiving help. But here’s the catch: this is something the Hebrew people believed already. This was not a new radical approach to Sabbath living.

Scholars cite traditional rabbinic sayings including:“Profane one Sabbath for a person’s sake, so that he may keep many Sabbaths.”*

To clarify, by healing the man on the Sabbath Jesus isn’t really even breaking Sabbath rules. Even if it was technically a violation of the Sabbath, there was a precedent for doing exactly what he did. The issue is not the Sabbath nor the responsibility of feeding or healing; rather this is all about a conflict of personality. 

The Pharisees see Jesus as an arrogant usurper and a dangerous youth who would tear apart everything they hold dear. Jesus sees the Pharisees as heart-hardened guardians of a faith that keeps people at arm’s length from full restoration and participation in God’s kingdom.

These are two opposing forces that believe in mostly the same things. For all intents and purposes, they are on the same team, yet they are positioned as enemies. This might take some imagination on your part, but one could equate it with conflict within a team, or a family, or a church…which always seem to be the most painful conflicts, right?

It’s the reason religion and politics are the taboo topics of today. We so closely associate our sense of self with our religious and political persuasions that we cannot entertain any other perspectives. We perceive different perspectives as direct threats to our sense of self. Even when we agree with one another 98% of the time, we fixate on the 2% in the other person that we don’t understand and refuse to take one step towards one another. And, as indicated at the end of today’s gospel, such conflicts are often drawn out to the bitter end, with the destruction one or both parties involved. 

I believe the antidote is humility, and again, I don’t look to the Jesus of today’s gospel passage for inspiration.

Instead, here’s where I saw this idea play out recently.

Throughout May a group of us read and discussed a book by self-described “lunatic libertarian Christian farmer” Joel Salatin. This book is his attempt to explain his theological rationale for his farming methods, which cover topics including free-range livestock, non-GMO crops, farming without pesticides and herbicides, and many more related topics.

Very few people liked the book, to put it mildly. The primary reason was because the author comes across as very judgmental, harsh, rigid, and arrogant. The author believes deeply and passionately that his model of farming can feed the world and restore God’s creation; but he was unable to convince many of us because of his oppositional attitude and his unwillingness to compromise or empathize with the forces he was setting himself up against. 

Knowing that interest in the book was rapidly waning through the weeks, I scheduled a trip to Tyner Pond Farm in Greenfield this past week. This is the farming operation that provides home delivery throughout the Indy-area, as well as the meat and eggs to the Mug restaurants as well as Grigsby’s Station in Greenfield. I wanted to introduce our book group participants to the owners and farmers at Tyner Pond Farm because they were practicing Joel Salatin’s farming techniques in a tangible, accessible, inspiring, and humble way.

As you can imagine, our day at the farm was a completely different experience than anything that had happened in our book discussions at church. Amy Baggot, one of the owners and farmers, spent the entire morning with us, excitedly taking us from farm to farm introducing us to piglets, herds of cattle, and hundreds of chickens. She spoke with passion about her calling to raise animals in a way that honors their unique role in God’s creation. She talked about loving and being inspired by her animals. She embodied the important principles the author was trying to make in his book; but which we found inaccessible due to the author’s arrogance. And even the most skeptical among us were smiling at the glory of their farm. 

Our minds, and consequently our behaviors, are incredibly resistant to new information. Facts do not change our behavior. Other peoples’ insistence and/or arrogance does not change our behavior.

In order for our behavior to change we must be inspired. Typically the ones who inspire us are the ones who are most passionate – ones for whom their passion is presented not from the volume of their voice or insistence they are right, but more from their ability to draw peace and hope from their passion and let it spread across their very way of being in the world.

Today’s gospel is a warning about how easily we can become entrenched in our beliefs and how that entrenchment can lead to needless suffering and destruction. The flip side of this warning is the promise held out of just how easy it is to transform the world when our passions are expressed through expressions of humility, wonder, and grace. 

Amen.

* Amy-Jill Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), 33.