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 [Mark 6: 25-28, portion of the Gospel lesson for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year B)].
If one checks my index of sermons and written meditations, one will likely make two observations: that during the past thirty-some years, I’ve preached or written on a broad swath of scripture texts—particularly within the four Gospels—and yet, I’ve never confronted the Gospel lesson assigned for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost in Year B. As a colleague quipped to me several weeks ago, “Where’s the “good news” in the beheading of John the Baptist?”
We may recall that John the Baptizer is mentioned early in Mark’s Gospel; he is arrested early on (Mark 1:14). As you may also remember, John, the cousin of Jesus, was blunt with his words and being so, he had pointed out to Herod, the puppet king, that the king had violated Leviticus 18:16. There, the scripture says, “You shall not uncover the nakedness of your brother’s wife ….” Well, you get the picture: Herod had married his sister-in-law, Herodias, and John, bless his heart, had been a killjoy by pointing out his violation of religious law. Herodias had thought, “Oh, who reads Leviticus anyway?”
Being the unforgiving type, Herodias began plotting for John’s death. Herod, however, was somewhat taken by John. He liked John’s sermons, so as a bit of a compromise, the king caused John to be “arrested” and put in what one might call “protective custody.” You remember the rest of the story—this is one that we did not recreate as a children’s play at Olney Presbyterian back in the 50s and early 60s.
It’s Herod’s birthday (Mark 6:21) and the king decides to give a great banquet. There’s plenty of good food, good wine, and music. Herod’s “young daughter” begins to dance. Some ancient texts identify her as Herodias’ daughter—not Herod’s—but does it make a lot of difference? (Mark 6:22). Herod and the others are so “pleased” with the young girl’s mosh (Mark 6:22) that the king says he’ll give her anything she asks, “even half of my kingdom” (Mark 6:23).
The girl runs to Herodias, her mother, inquires what should be her “price,” and Herodias, sensing her chance for revenge, says—with a gleam in her eye—“Ask for John the Baptizer’s head” (Mark 6:24). I don’t know about you; I’d have taken half the kingdom, but the girl did as her mother said, and John was summarily executed.
The question isn’t so much why do folks like me avoid this passage—this week the Lectionary provides five other far less objectionable readings from which to choose—but why Mark chooses to include this passage in an overarching story that concentrates on Jesus? This is, after all, one of the longest of Mark’s stories and yet, it doesn’t contain a single, direct reference to Jesus. The story is also strange because John the Baptizer, the person at the center of the story, never personally appears either.
Perhaps Mark includes this story (as does Matthew, but not Luke) because underneath, it’s actually a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own story. Run with me here for just a bit. Can we see that Herod foreshadows Pontius Pilate in the way that John foreshadows Jesus? Herod and Pilate think that they are in charge, but in reality, they are only nominally so. Each has power, yes, but only as long as he pleases the emperor in Rome. Both Herod and Pilate are faced with innocent prisoners. Each political puppet finds himself swept up within forces that he can neither manage nor control. Each finds it difficult—no, each finds it impossible—to back down. In spite of his seeming power, each is actually afraid of those around him.
Both John and Jesus remain passive in their final hours. Both face death with strength and integrity. One cannot oppose those in power and expect to come away undamaged. And so, both are murdered so as to assuage the political forces faced by the two imposters of power, Herod and Pilate.
True, there are significant differences between the final story of John and what seems to be the final story of Jesus. For example, John’s disciples risk persecution and death by claiming their master’s body and laying it in a tomb (Mark 6:29). When it is Jesus’ turn to die, “His twelve” are scared and scattered. One betrays Him. The strong one denies Him. It remains for others outside the original twelve called by Jesus to claim his body and put it into a tomb in the late afternoon of Good Friday, before the beginning of the Sabbath.
Have we heard the “good news” in the John the Baptist story yet? Sometimes, we need to listen carefully, particularly if our ears have been numbed by the shouts of a political society around us, particularly if we are deafened by cries of anguish in the face of COVID-19, of cancer, chronic pain or illness, or other calamities.
Mark seems intent on foreshadowing in this story. Can you see that here in Mark 6, Herod’s banquet foreshadows another that will take place later in the same chapter? The first, held in a palace, with rich food, rich wine, sensuous music, and dancing, is hosted by a so-called king. His name is Herod. The second banquet isn’t in a palace; it’s in “a deserted place” out in the country (Mark 6:35). Its participants are thousands of outcasts, with no political connections, no influence, indeed, no resources. When it comes time for supper, the thousands of followers can only scrape together five loaves and two fish (Mark 6:38).
And yet, the host of the second banquet is Jesus, and He is quite unlike Herod, for He is no imposter. He is a true king. “He is the King of glory.” Selah [Psalm 24:10, a portion of the reading from the Psalter, the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year B)]. At King Jesus’ feast, all are fully fed, with leftovers for many, many more. There’s even enough for you and me. Thanks be to God!
Thank you, Tom. God bless you and your sweet family
Many thanks. May our Lord’s blessings flow over you and all whom you hold dear.