Mark 6:14-29

Mark 6:14-29

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost | July 11, 2021 | Sermon Text: Mark 6:14-29 | by David H. Brooks |

 

Perhaps this story about Herod and John should induce us to change the old saying—if you strike at a prophet, make sure he’s dead. This Herod is a grandson of the old Herod they called “the Great,” but he does not measure up. Caught between Roman overlords that thinks him appallingly incompetent and a Jewish populace that despises his pretentiousness, Herod the Not So Great is the embodiment of Jesus’ admonition that we cannot serve two masters, or two pursue two goals. Herod desired the power and the perks that come from being king, but his own soul undermined his efforts. Mark reports that Herod took his brother’s wife as his own—a kingly move—but was troubled in soul as a result. Herod wishes to hold onto his gains but finds John’s condemnation of his marriage strangely compelling. In the end, Herod’s attempt to limp between two opinions is resolved when, to show himself kingly, he makes a bold promise that eventually means he must cut off his soul’s lifeline.

 

But we should not be too hard on poor Herod the Wishful, for we are in similar straits. We live caught between our ambitions and the call of God on our lives. We may be tempted to read this story as one of resisting oppression, as if we are a bunch of John the Baptists rotting away in some tyrant’s prison. And yes, it is true—there are many, including in our own country, who are suffering for being faithful to the singular vision of the Kingdom of God. But we need to be very careful to not look away from this birthday party gone awry.  To borrow Jacob Marley’s phrase, does the pattern of Herod’s life look strange to you? We want to be in the party room, not the dungeon. We want to be among the politically successful and close to the throne, not banished far from the room where it happens. We want to be seen as wise and gifted when our name is called, not foolish and incompetent. We want to achieve, not shown as failures. We want to be remembered as one of the great and good, not remembered in horror for what we did. We want our lives to matter and that we were no one’s fool, not to be seen as one who couldn’t keep his head on straight.

 

In the meantime, as Herod mutters that John has returned, there is another kingdom on the march. It has no time for political pandering, although it causes every wannabe king on every throne to sit up and take notice. It has no grand economic theory, although it calls everyone in the market to think less about “what’s in your wallet” and more about “what’s in your soul.” The heralds of this kingdom go with the symbol of the king—a shepherd’s staff—and proclaim the kingdom’s message—repent! Turn around! Stop limping on two opinions! Stop weaving between two goals! If there’s any returning to be done, then return to the Lord God!

 

It is in the strange king that sends out his heralds with nothing for the journey that the problem of limping between goals is resolved. The disciples go forth under the Lord’s authority and in his care; everything that resists God falls away from them, not because of who they are, but because of whose they are. They have nothing that would cause any reasonable person to say “I should listen to them” but we are repeating their message even today. And that strange king now comes to us, calls to us, invites us to draw near and know him better, to not wonder about him from our solitary thrones but sit at his feet and learn his ways. Here, among his people, called from every walk of life, we learn how to set aside our pretensions to greatness and live humbly. Here, in the Holy Supper, we find the true lifeline for our souls, a promise that we will not be forsaken even in our great need, that we will not be forgotten when the crowds murmur against us, that what is needed is not our great deeds but our open hands. Amen.

 

 

Pastor David H. Brooks

Durham, NC USA

Pr.Dave.Brooks@zoho.com

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