Curate’s sermon 14.7.24 Mark 6.14-29

There is an old Soviet anecdote about Joseph Stalin. An architect designing a state-commissioned building had two ideas for the main façade and presented both on the same drawing, just dividing it in half. One idea on the left; the other on the right, which was common practice. Comrade Stalin was not too invested in the project and after only a quick glance at the drawings just wrote ‘approved’ on one of them and left. And this is when panic set in – no one knew which of the two facades he wanted and no one dared to ask him the question, because, depending on the mood comrade Stalin was in, this could cost them their life. The story goes that the building was completed exactly as it was in the drawing – with the main façade divided in half with two different designs side by side. I think this is a rather good example of a dysfunctional relationship with authority and power gone out of control. What’s more, eventually, this uncontrollable power spiralled into paranoia that then poisoned or quite literally destroyed other people’s lives. Stalin got to the point of imagining that his own doctors were trying to kill him, which lead to their execution. I am sure we can think of other, less dramatic examples, of people who created their own little kingdoms with absolute control at home, at work, in clubs and communities. And in each of those cases power often gets out of control if it is unchallenged by those who stand by and don’t dare object.
John the Baptist’s challenge to Herod and Herodias and their life choices is evidently a shock: how dare this man in strange clothes question what we do?! What we see is the people whose authority has never been questioned before faced with criticism that their paranoid minds are unable to deal with. Herodias feels that death is a fair price for criticism while Herod is haunted by John even after his death. John is a danger to them, because, as far as they are concerned, there is no power and authority other than their own.
This is what is on the surface but something else that I thought might be worth observing is peeking from underneath. I think there are two more themes of standing up to unchallenged power that we can find in this story. In verse 23, Herod’s words ‘whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom’, are exactly the words of king Ahasuerus addressed to Queen Esther in the book of Esther. Esther’s people are about to be destroyed, and the queen comes preparing to ask for king’s mercy on them, ready to face death if he does not favour her request. She has a reason to be afraid: the King is a powerful man, who, as we are told in the first chapter of the book of Esther, ruled over 127 provinces, enjoyed his wealth, got rid of another queen who disobeyed him and probably was not used to being challenged. The king’s power seems unlimited, but Esther dares to go against it.
Another theme that I would like to observe is John’s head on a dish. I was trained as an art historian and in my experience, there is pretty much only two cut off heads that tend to appear in art: that of St John and that of Holofernes. I may be reading this parallel into the text because of art but please bear with me. Holofernes is the character that comes from the apocryphal book of Judith. He was a general that served another mighty king Nebuchadnezzar, whom Holofernes himself refers to as ‘the King of all the earth’. His army laid siege to the Jewish city of Bethulia, where, among others, there lived a widow called Judith. Judith famously cuts off the general’s head, and the army, having lost its leader, flees. Like in the story of Esther and the king, the might and power of the undefeatable Babylonian army is challenged by one woman.
So the story of St John the Baptist is like a Kinder surprise with two more stories inside it: John’s warning to Herod and Herodias, within it, contains the echoes of the drastic measures that need to be undertaken if the warning is not heard and power does get out of control. Sadly, this is exactly what happens. Herod orders an executioner to behead John the Baptist. Herod himself is a victim of both unchallenged power and also public opinion, and he enables injustice to flourish. Mark tells us that he doesn’t really mind John the Baptist but it wouldn’t look particularly good if he didn’t kill him. He submits to the power of Herodias and her daughter, even with John’s life at stake. The roles of Esther and Judith are reversed: it is now the women who demand the demise of one who dared to speak up, and Herod, unable to object, gives them what they want. Herod’s obedient submission to the crowd is an eerie echo of Pilate’s decision to do the same when it comes to Jesus’s trial. The story altogether is presented as a prefiguration of Jesus’s death but in reverse order: it starts with the speculation about the resurrection and ends with the disciples taking the body to the tomb.
The story, overall, seems to be pointing forward to the story of Christ, his ultimate power, his victory over death and the fact that the only unlimited power is that of God. In the stories of Esther and Judith, the rulers claimed unlimited power for themselves, and discovered, the hard way, that no earthly power can be unlimited, and no earthly kingdom can be eternal. The only true, lasting, kingdom, is the kingdom of Christ. This is what Jesus and John the Baptist direct us towards.
Speaking truth to power, especially aggressive political power, is a dangerous business. John the Baptist paid the dearest price for it – his own life. But even today, when we read the news, we still see the same happening, sadly, on a regular basis: the brave women standing up to oppression in Iran, the people who dare to speak against the government in places like Chechnya, the journalists and political activists around the world. Many of the heroes of history are those who stood up against the undisputed status quo of the established power: Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi, Rosa Parks, my personal hero Alexei Navalny. But, while only few are called to become notable historic figures, I believe that all of us are called to follow in the footsteps of St John the Baptist and Christ himself and speak up in the face of injustice, oppression and inequality. When we see someone treated unkindly or ignored, we should ask God for the strength to step in, when we encounter people with no voice, we should seek to be their voice and speak up for them, when we see injustice, we should try to work together to make it right. You must have heard all this a thousand times before, but what I want to emphasise is that it is not easy. It is often not natural to do this, it takes courage, and it is often difficult to know whether we are doing the right thing. There may be ethical dilemmas we are facing, and what seems right to you may look like the biggest wrong to someone else.
We won’t always get it right, and if we don’t or we get cold feet, we should not punish ourselves. Sometimes seeing that something is wrong or pointing it out is all we can do; sometimes we will be weak, but that’s ok because we are; sometimes we will really want to do something but the problem just isn’t ours to solve. We should remember that godly life, more often than not, does not require dramatic sacrifices but instead a quiet commitment. And I think to live this life, it is worth asking ourselves: what do the Gospels teach us? To put it very simply, what would Jesus, or for that matter, John the Baptist do? Chances are, we will never encounter someone like Stalin, but I think it is even more important, if we can, to use our voices in peaceful times, with boring governments, in mundane contexts, with ordinary people and in small neighbourhoods, to ensure that no one in power, any power, however great or small, has an illusion that their power is or can ever become greater than the power of God. Amen.