You may have the impression that today’s Gospel is included in scripture to let us know what happened to John the Baptist. And, you may also be thinking: “TMI!! Too much information! I could have gotten along without knowing that.” But I don’t think Mark included this segment in his Gospel to tell us what happened to John the Baptist. I think he included it to tell us what happened to Herod. The whole story is told from the perspective of Herod. We learn about John the Baptist’s demise because it is a flashback in the mind of Herod. Mark must want us to enter the mind of Herod and learn something vital by seeing his inner life.
To track the inner life of Herod, we need to know something about his beginnings. You may remember that name from the stories of Jesus’ birth: Herod tells the wise men to return and tell him where they find this significant baby, purportedly wishing to pay his own homage. His intent, we learn, is to do away with any competition. That was not the Herod of today’s Gospel. That Herod was this Herod’s father, so we will call him “Herod the Dad,” even though historians call him Herod the Great. Herod the Dad established the family business of plotting and scheming to collect as much territory and as many titles and toys as possible. And the Herod of today’s Gospel (Herod Antipas) succeeded right into this family business, as did his many brothers and half-brothers. They all schemed and plotted to acquire territory and titles and toys.
In the middle of today’s Gospel, we are told that Herod the Son liked to listen to John the Baptist. Why in the world would someone bent on collecting territory and titles and toys like to listen to John the Baptist? John the Baptist really had only two themes, and he promoted them over and over. His first theme you know well: “Repent!” To repent means to turn, to change. By promoting change, John was testifying that change is possible. When we experience thought patterns that we know are not healthy, change is possible. When we engage in habitual behaviors that are not good for ourselves or others, change is possible. If enough of us change on the inside and the outside, communities can change. This was John’s central message, and it utterly perplexed Herod. It perplexed him because he had never, ever seen anyone change! Herod the Dad lived as a tyrant and died a tyrant. He didn’t change. None of Herod the Son’s brothers changed either. Two of them were executed when their plots caused them to land on the wrong side of a change in Roman power. Another was executed for trying to poison Herod the Dad.
I heard on the news this week about a study showing that children in households earning more than $150,000 per year are more likely than others to suffer depression. It seems children in families that are able to acquire more possessions are more likely to connect their sense of worth and well-being to the toys they have and the envy or esteem others have based on those toys. Many of us have learned that connecting our sense of worth to the esteem of others can lead to a painful emptiness. Our spirits can never be filled satisfactorily from the outside. We need a source that fills them from the inside. Maybe Herod the Son, the Herod of today’s Gospel, was feeling that emptiness. Maybe, on some level of consciousness, he found the invitation toward change wonderfully appealing, even as it perplexed him. But sadly, in the key moment at that banquet, he slid back into old habits. You see, he didn’t keep his promise because he was a person of honor. He kept his promise because all those in attendance would ridicule him if he reversed himself. He didn’t stay tuned to John the Baptist’s message long enough to hear John’s second theme.
Mark must be telling this story to inspire us into staying tuned and absorbing John’s second theme. And his second theme was this: If you are ready for change, look to Jesus and you will see how it happens. When we look to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, this is what we see revealed: We see a God who in every single Good Friday of our lives, in every single experience that seems deadly, whether it be a deadly sensation from within or from without, is bent on finding some way to bring forth new life, to create a new Easter. I heard a story this week that beautifully illustrates the way God works to transform our despair into new experiences of Easter. Dorothy Malcolm, a member of our parish, broke her leg recently. Quite naturally, she despairs of hearing the long list of things she ought not do for the next three months in order to let the bone heal properly. On a recent visit, the physical therapist added one more: She mustn’t do any laundry. That one really brought her mood low. Laundry didn’t seem physically demanding, and she hated the thought of asking anyone else to do it. Just a couple hours later, a friend called to wish her well who happens to be blind. Dorothy’s friend offered to help however she could. I don’t know what Dorothy’s first thoughts were. Had it been me, I might have wondered what a blind friend could do to help. Before Dorothy could say anything, her friend added, “You know, I can do a lot more than many people think. For example, I am very good at doing laundry!” Dorothy shared just what a wonder that offer was for her. Both their spirits soared.
Look at all that happened in this story. Dorothy’s friend must have her own “Good Friday” moments when she is discouraged about limitations. But she forced her way out of that tomb and offered to roll a stone away from the tomb that was holding Dorothy in a low mood. An Easter of new life happened for both of them! The recipe is clear: When we are struggling to see any Easter, the best approach is to be Easter for someone else. You don’t have to look far for ways to do that. Starting August 9th, Trinity will be hosting homeless families here as part of the Family Promise program. You can step over to the Great Hall and sign up for one of the many forms of service that help these families make a new start. I encourage anyone who is a little apprehensive about trying this for the first time to sign up for a shift with other names already listed, so that experienced folk can mentor you. Every single person who has ever done this has asked when they can serve again during the same week. They find how exhilarating it is to be a sign of hope to another. You can’t be kept in a tomb when you are out rolling stones away from the tombs of others. In every situation, God has a plan for how to get from here to Easter, and invites our participation.
Increasingly, I find that one prayer serves my needs and I commend it to you: “Ever creative God, give me eyes to see what you are up to, give me the heart to receive your vision, and give me the will to become part of it."