Dancing with Herod

This morning I had to check the calendar. We don’t usually hear anything about John the Baptist until December when he’s down at the Jordan baptizing the whole countryside; telling folks to repent; and calling the curious looky-loos a brood of vipers.

I don’t know about you, but I like John. I like his straight-forward manner. At least I like it when he’s pointing out YOUR faults. I’m not sure I would like it if he was pointing out what’s wrong with me, and my life, and my relationship with God. Who does? Who likes it when people point out our faults? Who likes it when people remind us we’re falling short in our responsibilities?

Tell me, if you had a choice, would you rather sit down to dinner with John or Jesus? Who do you think would be the better company? Who do you think would be more fun at a party?

You know, the powers that be didn’t like either one. They didn’t like John, and they didn’t like Jesus. “John’s an old fuddy-duddy,” they said. “Jesus is an irreverent party animal,” they said. One’s too serious, and the other’s got no boundaries. 

John was fine when he was down in the valley, but somehow he got up in Herod’s face, and that’s where we find John today. He’s in jail. He’s in time out. It was one thing when he told the neighborhood schmucks they had to change their way of life.  It was one thing when he told the nameless, faceless throng they had to clean up their act (which is sort of what baptism represents – washing away life’s dirt).

It was one thing when John told the folks down at the Casino their lives stunk like stale beer and old smoke. It was quite another when he told folks in church and synagogue their lives weren’t much better; and it was the last straw when he told Herod – when he told the powers that be – that their lives were just as messed up as the lives of the crowd at the Calico Cupboard or Dad’s Diner.

The NERVE of the guy!

So Herod threw him in jail, and you and I sit here all safe and comfortable. John’s in jail and there’s nothing you and I can do about it. Whew! That was a close call; because there is nothing scarier than having to get up and do something when we see something wrong.

It’s interesting to note this story comes not only in July, for us, but comes just when Jesus has sent his disciples out 2x2 to preach the gospel, heal the sick, and to cast out demons. 

Mark is on a roll. Jesus is on a roll. He just had a bit of a stumble last week in Nazareth where his neighbors turned their backs on him and would have preferred killing him for daring to try to be somebody – for living above his station in life, or for doing things that were clearly above his pay grade and beyond his credentials.

But that’s the way it is in the world. Sometimes you’re the windshield and sometimes you’re the bug. Either way, you get a mess and a loss of clarity.

Jesus doesn’t let this hiccough slow him down, though. He tells his friends, “Don’t let their dirt weigh you down. When you’re welcomed, share the peace of God. When you’re rejected, move on. Don’t mix your tears with their dirt and make mud. Life’s too short to get stuck in the mud, so shake out the dirt and move on.”

So it’s here where Jesus has sent out the Twelve, and it’s here where we get the news: John is dead.

Like a wet newspaper slapped down on the coffee table, Mark drops the news; Jesus sends out the Twelve, tells them “Don’t rely on anything more than your faith in God and the grace of good neighbors,” and BAM: “By the way, John’s dead. Herod killed him and Boss-man wondered if Jesus might be ‘John-come-back-from-the-dead’ to haunt him.”

What happened? Well, it seems that John called Herod out on his arrogance, his abuse of power, his putting himself above the Law – above Torah. People who think they’re above the law – that’s an age-old problem, isn’t it?

That’s putting it mildly. Herod put away his own wife – not a divorce, really, but just shoved her aside – and then took Herodias (who was his sister-in-law AND his niece) and he married her. Talk about incest on so many levels! John said, “Even by your standards, that’s sick.”

So Herod put John in jail, but Herodias wanted him dead. Herod didn’t want to upset the locals, so he kept John around. John was like a little bobble-head toy Herod would bring out from time to time to have a chat with. Herod wasn’t interested in changing or being changed. He just wanted people to know he was very much in charge – show them the hammer – but show them his softer, gentler, kinder side by keeping John alive – an olive branch, if you will.

But as we heard, all that ended when Herod threw himself a birthday party, and once he and his friends were drunk, he had his own step-daughter (who was also his niece) Dance for the Stars, and with ego running rampant – well, you know the story. She danced, he promised, she checked with her mother the Queen, the Queen said, “Off with his head,” Princess says, “Off with his head, but bring it on a platter; after all, this IS a formal occasion!” 

So what are we supposed to make of all this? 

John’s disciples come and take his body away and lay it reverently in a tomb. We get a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own arrest, execution, and burial, don’t we? 

Sandwiched between their going out and coming back (the disciples, that is), we get the story of John’s arrest, execution, and burial. 

It is a reminder that discipleship can be very costly. It is a reminder that doing the right things and doing good things is no guarantee you won’t be hurt. There is a real danger in naming what is wrong in the world and trying to change it.

The story compels us to ask the question: Where are we in this story?

Are we disciples, relying on our faith and the good grace of our neighbors to share the Gospel, bring comfort to the afflicted, and making the world a better place?

Are we Herod, firmly in charge, and with just enough curiosity to come out once a week to dust off our Bibles and prayer books – just enough for the world to see a little bit of piety and compassion, and then put it safely back into the dungeon until it’s time to draw it back out: next week; same time; same station?

Like Herod, sometimes we let our egos run amok. Like one time Barb and I were driving home from Virginia City to Ennis. It was snowing and I had cleared the windshield, but I’d forgotten to clear the headlights, so it was dark and there’s no lights in Montana. I was ready to pull over to clear the headlights when Barb said, “You need to pull over and clear the headlights.”

Something snapped. No one’s going to tell ME what to do, so I kept going. Every time I was ready to pull over, she’d tell me what I needed to do. That was always good for another mile. Dumb. Absolutely dumb on my part. But we do that. We need to recognize that in ourselves. There’s some of Herod in me.

Are we Herodias that wants to kill any thing or any one who dares suggest our thinking or our actions might not be right with God – or just plain sick? 

A man I knew and respected some years ago hurt me bad and threw me under the proverbial bus one time. It was devastating. A few years later I heard he’d contracted shingles. Did I pray for him? Of course not! I rejoiced. For a few moments, I reveled in his pain and suffering. But I also knew that is NOT what Jesus wants of us, or from us. So I repented. There is some of Herodias in me still.

Are we Salome? She wanted to be accepted; she lusted for the approval of her step-dad/uncle, and of her mother. (To be honest, I think Herod would have paid me NOT to dance), but pleasing others is sometimes an issue we struggle with.

Or are we spectators, sitting at the banquet, enjoying the show, but taking no responsibility for what we see happening – neither placing our hand on the sword, nor holding it up to prevent the evil from even happening?

What’s your role in this story?

What is Christ Church’s role in this story?

You will need to answer the first question for yourself.

Vestry will need to answer the second question.

But here is one last point I want us to keep in mind: Each of us takes on each of those roles at some point in our lives – and sometimes all of them at the same time; sometimes the bug, sometimes the windshield, but always messy.

The question is not who we are in this story, but whether we’re willing to become the people God knows we can be, in order to carry out the work that God has laid before us.

That’s the question. And I hope you and I will take our time at coffee and throughout the week to wrestle with those questions, and to come back next week as those who have set their hope on Christ, that “we might live for the praise of his glory.” (Eph. 1:10?) Amen.

Sermon delivered to Christ Church, Anacortes, WA

Fr. Keith+ 07/14/2024