This morning I read the passage about the beheading of John the Baptist. I let the scene sink in a little more than I usually do. And I was repulsed. If it has been a while since you took a minute to sort through the details of that story, take a minute. But be warned: it's not a feel-good story.
The main player is Herod and here's what we know about him. He's a tetrarch which means he's a governor of some sort. Mark's gospel gives him the title King. He's a powerful man. He is married to his sister-in-law Herodias. John has pointed out to him that he probably shouldn't have taken his sister-in-law in marriage and so Herod has put John in prison. He would have preferred to kill him on the spot for pointing out his sin, but Herod didn't get to be tetrarch without some craft. He knows that wouldn't be a savvy political move. Instead, he'll just let John rot in prison.
For her part, Herodias seems just as depraved as Herod. She, too, is murderously angry at John for pointing out her sin.
So that's the situation with this royal family when we pick up the scene in Matthew 14. What happens next is even more sordid.
Herod is having a birthday party. Probably not an ice cream social. Mark says he invited many powerful men to a banquet. There was much food and girls dancing. The modern equivalent is pretty easy to see. Imagine our president treating his cronies to a good time a local strip club. We don't know the nature of the dancing or who performed, but we know that at least one dancer was particularly popular. The text says "she pleased Herod and his dinner guests."
Now I'm a recovering Baptist so I know what it means to assume that all dancing is suggestive. I don't do that. I don't mind dancing at times. But given the hints in the text, I don't think it's out of the question to assume that Herod wasn't pleased at the cleanness of her lines and the strength in her pose. We're not talking Ballet Folklorico here. My guess is that Herod was pleased by a lurid dance from his stepdaughter and pleased to share that lust with his buddies.
Then Herod makes an astounding promise. As a reward for her dance, he offers to give his stepdaughter anything she asks for - up to half his kingdom. Why would he do that? I can imagine a few reasons.
First, this is the reptilian impulse to contact and control the object of his lust, and to do so in front of his peers who might also have designs on her. He's flirting.
And he's showing off. What better way to impress your friends than give extravagant gifts? Besides, what could this girl possibly ask for? She'll want a bauble or a new room. Maybe a pony. She's inconsequential. We know Herod was a savvy politician. He would never make such an offer to a worthy adversary who might threaten his riches or power. But the girl is just a plaything. She won't have the mind to ask for anything that might truly cost him.
So Herod makes the promise which gives Herodias the opportunity to add violence and revenge to the list of improprieties in this story. She tells her daughter to ask for John's head on a plate. Herod, of course, grants the request because he can't be seen to back down in front of his buddies. Plus, a good beheading might serve as the perfect crescendo for a lovely evening with friends celebrating his birthday.
Besides the profanity of this story, two things stick out to me.
First of all, this is how John the Baptist dies? It's ignoble! It's sad. It seems like such a waste that the great herald of salvation comes to a pitiful end on the whim of an adulterer and a stripper.
But the hardest thing to face about this passage is our tendency to be just like Herod. I've been in his shoes: guilty of sin, aware of my sin, confronted by someone, and bitter at them. How many of us, if we had the power, wouldn't likewise imprison our accusers even if we knew they were right? We do it all the time - imprison them behind emotional or relational bars, accuse them wrongly out of spite. No, we probably aren't carousing as openly as Herod, but he comes to that end after making a start in unrepentance. Repentance is incredibly hard. Unrepentance is natural and easy. But Herod demonstrates that the easy way leads down a path of debauchery and violence and death.
