Matthew 14:1-12

At that time Herod the rulerheard reports about Jesus; and he said to his servants, “This is John the Baptist; he has been raised from the dead, and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” For Herod had arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because John had been telling him, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” Though Herod wanted to put him to death, he feared the crowd, because they regarded him as a prophet. But when Herod’s birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before the company, and she pleased Herod so much that he promised on oath to grant her whatever she might ask. Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me the head of John the Baptist here on a platter.” The king was grieved, yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he commanded it to be given; he sent and had John beheaded in the prison. The head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, who brought it to her mother. His disciples came and took the body and buried it; then they went and told Jesus.

This is a remarkably grisly scene, one not typically covered in any detail in Sunday School. Perhaps that’s a good thing. In subject matter, action, and even narrative construction, this episode rivals almost anything you might see on Game of Thrones or House of Cards. It commences with Herod’s discomfort with what he’s hearing about Jesus. This wonder-working rabbi from Galilee reminds him, he says, a little too much of John the Baptist. Actually, he says more than that; he says that he believes John has come back to life in the form of Jesus, which is why Jesus is able to perform such works of power.

This launches us into the first-century equivalent of a flashback, as Matthew fills in the details of what prompts Herod’s distress. Herod, you see, had imprisoned John because John was criticizing Herod’s marriage to his brother’s wife. To again connect the action to our time, John was calling into question Herod’s “family values” to an extreme. In response, Herod wanted him silenced in the most permanent of ways.  Ever the politician, however, Herod knows John is immensely popular with the common folk, and so rather than execute him he keeps him imprisoned.

But if Herod wants John dead, Herodias – Herod’s wife; his brother’s former wife – wants him dead even more. So when Herodias’ daughter – presumably by her first husband, Herod’s brother Philip (confused yet?) – so delights the king with a dance she performs for his birthday that Herod promises her anything, her mother instructors her to demand John’s head on a platter. Having made his pledge in public, Herod complies, executing John and bringing his head to his step-daughter who in turn gives it to her mother. And that is that, another page from the ghastly history of ancient politics.

Except that’s not the end of the story. Herod continues to be haunted by John to the point that he can only imagine that Jesus is John returned, presumably to avenge his wrongful murder.

Again, high drama across the board. The question we might ask in response is simple: why does Matthew tell this story? Two reasons, at least. First, John was a significant figure and his story needs to be told because it intertwines do directly with Jesus’ own story. John – his ministry and death – was simply too important to ignore. Second, and more importantly, the story of Jesus – and the gospel more broadly – is not exempt from the nitty-gritty, and even at times grisly and ghastly, details of human life. Jesus’ story is not an idealized narrative exempt from the complexities and throes of life but rather makes even greater sense when viewed among them. The need for grace, forgiveness, and salvation, that is, becomes even clearer when watching a story like Herod’s.

Prayer: Dear God, remind us that you are deeply and intimately concerned with and connected to every element of our lives, seeking always to heal what is ill, repair what is broken, and redeem us fully and completely. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

Post image: “Salome with John the Baptist,” Caravaggio, c.1607-10.