In Nomine Iesu
St. Mark 6:14-29
July 15, 2018
Proper 10B
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
There’s an old saying: The more things change, the more they stay the same. It doesn’t matter how many years go by, or how much new technology gets added to the mix. People are people. Human behavior (and human misbehavior) is fairly predictable. The players may change. The circumstances may change. But the more things change, the more they just stay the same.
Today’s Holy Gospel tells of the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist. It’s a grim and grisly affair, to be sure, which culminates in John’s death by decapitation. But in just the past several years, how many Christians have met a similar fate? How many Christians inplaces like Syria, Iraq, and Egypt have departed this life at the hands of Muslim extremists—in explosions and executions perpetrated to kill those who confess Jesus Christ as Lord? I don’t know how many; but the Lord knows.
But the parallels of John’s martyrdom with this present age go much deeper than this. In today’s Holy Gospel we have a politician behaving badly. Power corrupts and no one was more powerful in that neck of the woods than King Herod. He was so powerful, in fact, that he had taken his brother’s wife as his own. Of course, it takes two to tango and Herodias probably saw divorce and adultery as a pathway to more power for herself. But again, the more things change, the more they stay the same. How many members of congress—how many Hollywood elite—lost their jobs due to sexual misconduct in recent years? Has there ever been a time when God’s gift of marriage meant so little to so many? I don’t know; but the Lord knows.
It was this mix of sex and marriage and politics that ultimately led to John’s demise. John had the temerity to speak God’s truth to power. He told Herod that shacking up with his brother’s wife was sinful. It was contrary to God’s Law. It was wrong on ever level. Plenty of other people probably thought the whole situation stunk to high heaven too, but had the good sense to keep their mouths shut. Not John. John was the Lord’s bulldozer—raising the valleys and leveling the mountains to make way for Jesus. John did what John did best—calling all people (kings included) to repentance.
Now, interestingly, Herod listened to what John had to say. Herod heard John gladly. Herod locked John up in prison not to punish him, but to protect him from Herodias. The new Mrs. Herod held a grudge against John and wanted him put to death. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate John preaching publicly about her sin. I tell you what, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Still today, nothing gets people madder—nothing gets people more furious—nothing triggers more righteous indignation than to tell them that what they are doing is wrong—that it’s sinful. We know that confronting sin is an act of love. But rarely does the confronted sinner respond with love and thanks and appreciation.
That’s because our sinful nature always wants to justify our sinful behaviors. We have no trouble selling ourselves plenty of good excuses—laying out a reasonable rationale for why our sin isn’t really a sin at all. But when someone like John comes along, points their finger at us, and says, “Repent,” well, nothing makes our molars grind faster. Nothing stirs up our thirst for revenge and retribution more readily than when someone calls us on the carpet. Together with Herodias, our mantra becomes, “Heads will roll.”
Confronting sin is actually part of a pastor’s job. Not only do pastors preach and teach and encourage and exhort. They also rebuke and correct those who have gone astray. As you might imagine, that’s the part of the job that most pastors enjoy the least. It’s worth pondering perhaps: What would you do if your pastor confronted you about some sin in your life? Would you listen and take his concerns to heart? Or would you be more inclined to say, “Off with his head?”
John’s gory death certainly foreshadows the gory death of Jesus. John’s death also pointed ahead to the deaths of all those who would be martyred for their faith in Jesus Christ. And John’s death also teaches us something about the nature of evil. Acts of great evil aren’t always perpetrated by evil geniuses—the Hitlers and Stalins of the world with their masterplans for genocide, torture and starvation. No, sometimes evil doesn’t happen because of evil men; but just as often it’s because of weak and feckless men like Herod—men who care more about their own reputations than the truth—men who care more about being liked than about doing the right thing. There’s a King Herod inside each of us—proud, boastful, and fickle—hungry for power and eager to be liked—with no regard for doing the right thing. This is why we still need to hear John’s message: “Repent . . . and behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
That Lamb is Jesus. And what’s surprising about this whole episode is that Jesus is strangely silent. He apparently has nothing to say on the matter. But how can Jesus have “no comment” on the disgraceful and unjust death of His cousin, John? Maybe it’s because He had His own disgraceful and unjust death awaiting Him in Jerusalem. Jesus had a sacrifice to make that would deal once and for all with the sins of the whole world, including the sins of corrupt kings in their adulterous bedrooms. God doesn’t deal with the sin of the world by instituting a program of moral improvement, or by recruiting an army of social justice warriors to stage protests and fight corruption. No, God deals with human sin by sending His Son in the flesh—to put sin to death in His flesh on the cross.
It’s likely that John held the same notions about the Messiah that his contemporaries did—that the Messiah would be a powerful messiah, a righteous King unlike Herod and his brothers—God’s king on God’s throne ruling God’s nation. That’s what people were waiting for—a superman who would clean up corruption and establish truth, justice, and the Israelite way.
But that wasn’t the way of Jesus or of His kingdom. Earthly kingdoms are about power. Their kings lop off the heads of their critics. But God’s kingdom is about the mercy of a King who dies for the people (for all of them, including His critics). It’s about the kindness of a King whose glorious grace embraces the worst, the lost, and the lowly. John had to decrease. Jesus had to increase. John had to get out of the way for Jesus to be the way, the truth and the life. John was safe in death because Jesus was going the way of the cross to rescue Him and the world.
It’s tempting sometimes to be like John—to criticize the disappearing morals of our own perverse and wicked generation. There’s so much in our world that’s not right and unjust. There’s much that needs to be said in the public square. And we should speak out and stand up for what is right, defending marriage, defending the unborn, affirming the distinctive goodness of male and female, speaking God’s truth in love.
But remember: John served best when he pointed his prophetic finger at Jesus and said, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” There’s God’s answer to all of this. There’s God’s solution to the world’s problems and to your own sin and death. The one thing needful has been done. Christ has died. Christ has risen. It is finished.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. The more the world around us changes, the more God’s promises stay the same. Blessed are you who recognize your sin and repent of it. Blessed are you who hear His Words and keep them. Blessed are you who do not despise preaching and His Word, but hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it. For in that word is life and salvation and strength to bear your crosses and to speak the truth in love. In Jesus you have life that lasts forever. And that gift no man—no king and no court—can ever take from you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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