But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” Mark 6:16

Do you find some things hard to talk about? Some topics make us uncomfortable, so we avoid them. Others might make us so mad that we talk too much and have to watch our tongues. Occasionally, we might hear about something so strange that we just don’t know what to say.

            Bible stories can be that way. Some texts lend themselves to preaching or profitable Bible study quite easily, while others are much more difficult to approach. Today’s reading is one of the more problematic texts. How do we find anything positive to say about a troubled king, an angry queen, a pawn-like princess, and a headless prophet?

            Let’s give it a try.

Herod, Jesus, and John

(vv. 14-16)

The largest part of the text is a flashback prompted by the notice that when Jesus sent the disciples out on mission to preach and to heal (vv. 7-13), “King Herod heard of it for Jesus’ name had become known,” and some were saying “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him’ (v. 14). Mark’s back-story explains how John had died: would Jesus also be in danger?

            The Herod in question was Herod Antipas, a son of Herod the Great. He had hoped to succeed his father as king over Palestine, but he was given control of Galilee and Perea only. Herod ruled the disjointed areas from 4 BCE until 39 CE, with the official title of “tetrarch,” but he fancied himself to be a king and the gospel writers used the title. [DD]

            Herod Antipas’s royal yearnings were egged on by his wife Herodias, who had formerly been married to his brother Herod Philip, commonly thought to be Philip the Tetrarch, who ruled Iturea and Tracheonitis. In a memorable first-century scandal, especially for a Jewish family, Herodias left her husband and married his brother Antipas, encouraging his royal aspirations.

            As a client ruler under the Roman Emperor Tiberius, it was important for Herod to curry favor with the emperor, in part by maintaining order within his territory. Thus, when John the Baptizer took up residence near Bethany Beyond the Jordan—in Herod’s territory of Perea –Antipas feared that John’s growing popularity and avid following might lay the groundwork for a potential rebellion.

            Herod had John arrested and imprisoned, most likely at Machaerus, a ridgetop fortress near the southern border of Perea that served as both military outpost and royal retreat. [DD]

            The Jewish-turned-Roman historian Josephus wrote that Herod feared John and had him executed on charges of rebellion. Mark’s account, as we shall see, told a different story. [DD]

            In either case, Herod was responsible for John’s death. So, when word came to the ruler that someone named Jesus was not only following in John’s prophetic footsteps but doing mighty works, preaching and attracting large crowds, he was naturally concerned.

            The message that came to Antipas was mixed: some people believed Jesus was John the Baptizer redivivus, “and for this reason these powers are at work in him” (v. 14). Others thought of Jesus as Elijah, who many expected to return and pave the way for the Messiah. Yet others weren’t ready to identify Jesus as Elijah, but were convinced that he was a prophet, “like one of the prophets of old” (v. 15).

            As Mark tells it, Herod feared the worst: “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised” (v. 16). If John had been trouble in his first appearance, how much more powerful would he be if resurrected from the dead? Matthew’s parallel attributes Herod’s belief to a connection between resurrection and the display of power (Matt. 14:2).

            Luke’s version of the story suggests that Herod was more skeptical about the situation, saying “John I beheaded; but who is this about whom I hear such things?” Luke added that Herod, apparently curious, “tried to see him” (Luke 9:9). 

Truth can hurt

(vv. 17-29)

            Mark had reported John’s arrest early on his gospel, connecting it to the beginning of Jesus’ active ministry (1:14). Herod’s reaction to Jesus in 6:14 led him to elaborate on the baptizer’s death and the seriousness of crossing Herod.

The gospel account does not attribute John’s arrest to charges of rebellion, as Josephus does, but to the preacher’s criticism of Herod’s marriage. John had condemned Antipas’ decision to marry his brother Philip’s wife, arguing that it was unlawful (vv. 17-18).

The narrative suggests that the criticism may not have been a public bashing, but a personal conversation, as if John had appeared in Herod’s court. Direct conversations between prophets and kings were known from the Old Testament period (1 Kgs. 17:1, Jer. 38:14-26).

John’s criticism was based on an explicit command forbidding marriage between a man and his brother’s wife while he was still living (Lev. 18:16, 20:21). The practice of levirate marriage called for a man to marry his brother’s wife if he had died childless (as in Gen. 38:1-11), but Philip was very much alive.

The woman in question was Herodias—who was also descended from Herod the Great. Josephus’ genealogy suggests that she was Herod Antipas’s niece as well as his wife. She would have known that John’s criticism was directed mainly at her behavior, and took such offense that she “had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and protected him” (vv. 19-20a).

Indeed, Antipas was strangely drawn to the troublesome prophet: “When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him” (v. 20b).

The dramatic quality of the story—which has been fancifully elaborated and turned into dramatic operas and movies through the years—came to a climax when Herod’s birthday arrived, and he celebrated by throwing himself a party with invited guests from among the “officers and leaders of Galilee” (v. 21).

As unlikely as it may seem for a princess to entertain guests with a dance routine, the story relates that “his daughter Herodias came in and danced,” pleasing Herod and his guests so much that he, in a manner not unlike the foolish king in the book of Esther, promised to give the young woman anything she wanted, up to half the kingdom (vv. 22-23). [DD]

The dancing daughter consulted with her mother concerning what she should ask for, according to Mark. When Herodias heard opportunity knocking, she instructed her daughter to ask for John’s head to be brought to her on a platter (vv. 24-25). Her vindictive plan not only arranged for John’s death, but for the disgraceful treatment of John’s body.

Mark adds urgency and emphasis to the bloody act by saying “Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, ‘I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter” (v. 25, emphasis added). The demand that it be done “at once” suggests that she expected it to be presented during the party, like a grisly birthday cake.

The request caught Herod by surprise. He “was deeply grieved,” Mark writes, “yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her” (v. 26). Pride can have painful consequences. For Herod to save face, John lost his head.

“Immediately,” Mark says, again using one of his favorite words, Herod dispatched a soldier to relieve John of his head and deliver it on a platter to the girl. “Then the girl gave it to her mother,” while John’s disciples “took his body and laid it in a tomb” (vv. 28-29).

Whether John’s head was ever reunited with his body, or whether Herodias kept it as a trophy, is left to the reader’s imagination.

Is there inspiration or instruction to be found in such a text as this?

Mark’s purpose in telling the story was to set the stage for Jesus’ own coming death. As Herod was coerced into killing John by his conniving and vengeful wife, Pilate would cave to the calculating designs of fearful officials who wanted Jesus dead. According to Luke, Herod also had an audience with Jesus, treating him with contempt before sending him back to Pilate (Luke 23:7-15).

The disciples, whose preaching mission had apparently triggered Herod’s interest, would in time face dangers of their own, including martyrdom. Thus, Mark alerts readers that following Jesus is serious business: when powerful people feel threatened, they will make every attempt to protect their positions.

None of us are in the position of a king or even a tetrarch. Few of us hold elected positions. But, like Herod, we can either work to promote justice—or to look out for selfish interests at the cost of injustice that harms or demeans others.

Most of us, especially if we are white, possess the power of privilege. Through the post-Civil War and Jim Crow eras and into today, insidious practices of economic oppression and voter suppression have served to protect the status quo of white male dominance—often under the guise of protecting a “Christian America.”

Even without consciously oppressing others, we have been part of the system and thus are complicit. In this and other areas, will we do what we can to oppose injustice, or just look after ourselves?