Mark 6: 14-29
Beheading of John the Baptist
Just imagine the scene: a grand dinner party. The Prime Minister, the U.S President, are all present together with leaders from across the world. Potential allies, potential enemies. Military leaders and officials. A room full of powerful men and women. You want to put on a good show, to impress. Future wealth or future wars might depend on the conversations of this evening.
That’s the kind of scene being played out in our Gospel reading this morning and similar dinners were held just a few weeks ago when the UK hosted the G7 summit in Cornwall. That's a gathering of seven of the world's most powerful leaders in a week of meetings to discuss politics, trade and economics. I’m sure there were a lot of grand banquets during that week.
Powerful people meeting over food and entertainment to advance their interests. It happened 2000 years ago in Palestine, and it happens now in England. It probably always will. It seems to be the way the world operates but I want to suggest this morning that our gospel reading has something to say about this worldly way of working. And it has something to say to us about how we should be, act, as Christians in the world; and what the consequences of following Jesus can be.
It is the most wonderful story, isn’t it? The setting of the dinner party, the way the dancing girl entrances the king, the awful consequences of a foolish promise made rashly by a man who can’t be seen to back down. The brooding hatred which Herodias has nurtured over years. Mark tells the story with real pizazz. It also occurs in both Luke & Matthew’s gospels but it’s Mark’s recounting which has the real dramatic force.
This passage was the subject of Frances' first sermon as a curate at St. John's Ranmoor getting on for twenty years ago now and I have a vivid memory of her leading the children in the family service to dramatically re-enact the scene, complete with a papier-mâché severed head covered in blood with goggly eyes. The children were very enthusiastic about that. They knew that a good story was being told and they really entered into it in all its gory detail.
So, what's going on in our reading today? One thing to note is that Mark seems to be working with the story to create something which offers a mirror in which, perhaps, we can all see ourselves reflected.
Herod Antipas, in this story, is clearly fascinated by John. He’s attracted to what John has been saying and Herod recognises his holiness. For Herod, though, such recognition doesn’t appear to be enough to make a difference.
The dinner scene itself is really important. Caught up in the brilliance of Mark’s storytelling, we can lose that fact that he is describing a scene with a sharp political overtone to it. In the story, John has criticised Herod’s marriage because it broke the Jews religious rules on who could marry who.
Herod was the ruler of Galilee which was a Jewish area. In breach of Jewish marriage rules, he has married his brother's wife. The marriage was a marriage of convenience for political ends and alliances
Such marriages aren’t unusual; think about Henry VIII. His political need for a legitimate son is one of the reasons why we’re sitting here as a Church of England congregation
So John is, in fact, drawing attention to the hypocrisy of Herod: he professes Jewish leadership but doesn’t live within their rules.
And the setting, of course, is a scene at the royal court. All the great and the powerful are present. But it isn’t a scene where power is exercised with justice and compassion. Rather it’s a drunken party. The sense is that a dirty old man is beguiled by an attractive young girl. He makes a drunken promise and doesn’t then have the courage and integrity to turn down her wildly offensive request. In a brilliantly ironic touch, while the room is full of powerful people, it’s a young girl who is pulling the strings.
Mark has written a grand parody of decision making and, as we listen to his story, there is something terribly credible about the setting. A cosy gathering where powerful people make decisions which suit them no matter what the cost to others. In this case, John’s life. We know that this kind of thing has happened in our history and still, today, grand feasts like at the G7 event in Cornwall, are held for a reason even if it isn’t to plot an extra judicial murder.
I wonder what the jokes were about at the G7 dinners? I wonder who was pulling strings and who was struggling to act with integrity?
So John the Baptist, who met such a gruesome end at this dinner party, was a man who knew God closely and answered God’s call on him despite the great cost of that.
He proclaimed repentance: the need to turn around to God’s way. He witnessed to the messiahship of Jesus. And he recognised God’s justice and pronounced truthful judgement when it was needed; even though that led to his torture, imprisonment and death.
Herod is a shallow figure in comparison. He recognises something of God in John but it makes no difference to his life. He has no firm foundation so that, when he is tested with the choice of saving or losing face at the price of a good man’s life, he falters. His drunken oath is more important.
This story is one of subtlety with layers of meaning. And one thing it does is act as a mirror to our own lives. How would we respond if faced with a choice which might cost our dignity and reputation, the respect of our friends and peers? Would we stand up for God’s justice, no matter what the price?
The fortunate truth is that we are unlikely to be tested in quite this way and I give thanks to God for that. There are Christians around the world, however, who do have to make such choices.
The Open Doors organisation, who campaign on behalf of persecuted Christians, estimate that more than 260 million Christians in the 50 countries where it is most difficult to be a Christian, experience high levels of persecution because of their faith. Worldwide, it’s estimated that 8 Christians are killed every day for their faith.
Where are we in this story? What would each of us do if faced with a modern dilemma of costly integrity versus easy hypocrisy? Perhaps that might seem a frightening prospect but we have much to help us.
In significant part it’s about how we develop our relationship with God. So, we can build a firm foundation for our lives by spending time with God in prayer and bible study. And we can meet with Christ, Sunday after Sunday, in the in the community of the church and in the bread and wine of communion.
And if we build on those foundations then we should be able to find ways to be engaged and active in the world around us. To hear the call that God has for us. Perhaps it will be speaking to our Councillors and MPs on issues. Or it may be joining in with community projects and initiatives. Perhaps it will be actively exercising compassion when faced with a tricky situation.
We may find that being active and speaking up for God and His Kingdom leads us into difficult places but that is part of the journey of discipleship. And it’s not about being right about things all the time. Jesus doesn't call us to be right. He calls us to take up our cross and act as a servant to our neighbour, even if that is costly. And who is our neighbour? … Well, that’s a story for another day though some of you may have heard it before.
Amen