Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Gospel: Mark 6:14-29

A reading from the Gospel of Mark.
Glory to you, O Lord.

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” And Herodias 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 he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” 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.” The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, O Christ.

Now let the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and Redeemer

INTRO

Fairytales and happy endings play a significant role in shaping us and our expectations about life. We are inundated from birth by themes and images of the way life “should” play out by the stories provided us in fictional accounts—in books and in film, in everything from Disney movies to Hollywood blockbusters to popular television and online series. We love keeping up with the weddings, vacations, births, and highlights of the lives of celebrities. We’re enchanted by tales of the underdog and the anti-heroes who get their happy endings. And somewhere in all of this, we formulate a vision for what our own lives should look like.


But real life rarely resembles fairytales and there is never any guarantee of a happy ending. The Bible isn’t much for fairytales either, and the story in the sixth chapter of Mark’s Gospel is about a royal family that no one envies. King Herod’s second wife, Queen Herodias, is portrayed as a conniving and vengeful woman, filled with hatred and the desire for revenge. She ultimately ropes her young daughter into a murder plot against John the Baptist. This story reads more like a horror story than a fairytale, as we read about the presentation of John’s head on a platter at her request. We see that King Herod would rather commit murder than appear to be a fool in front of his guests. And John the Baptist’s life itself seems rather tragic; John lived a challenging life, was imprisoned unjustly, and then killed horribly and unexpectedly. And yet, Jesus said of him, “Among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist.” There are no fairytale endings in the Bible, even for God’s chosen servants.

Still, we humans cling so strongly to images of what we think life should be and look like. We still expect happy, fairytale endings and are often perplexed when our lives hand us something very different. And we are, in fact, so committed to these fairytales and to projecting images of success and happiness, that many of us intentionally project images of our lives to others that are not only highly edited, but sometimes completely false.

TEXT

Our texts this weekend point us in a different direction to focus our attention on.

The plumb line of Amos is a classic illustration of God’s call to measure carefully the decisions one makes in living the life of faith.

Paul writes to the Ephesians that God has a plan, a purpose, and will work in our lives for the praise of God’s own glory. There could be three points to a good sermon right there!

Mark’s gospel gives us a bit of an account of John the Baptizer—explaining how he lost his head to an impassioned Herod, who was played pretty well by his brother’s-wife-turned-his-wife and her daughter. 

What has this to do with the story of Jesus? Jesus’ reputation is growing by the sixth chapter of Mark, and crowds are saying that Jesus’ works are a lot like the power John had in his preaching. By this time, John is already dead and they think maybe he has come back. This makes Herod pretty nervous, as he IS afraid of ghosts and doesn’t want anything to do with any potential revenge by John. So, we get the background to the story and set up further tension with Herod and Jesus to come later in the story.

LIFE

Reflecting on the texts got me thinking about life. Life doesn’t have to be less than a fairytale to disappoint us, either. If your life is not going the way you expected or hoped it would or even if it has veered far from the way you’d imagined it, you’re not alone. Perhaps you’ve been sidelined by an injury or illness, a death, a loss, a divorce or broken relationship, or maybe something distressing has happened to your children or someone you love. You may be filled with a sense of disillusionment, anger, grief, heartache, sorrow, or confusion. You may wonder, “Why?” “What went wrong?” You may even despair of life itself.

There are people who can teach us a different way to approach life, however—people whose lives look nothing like a fairytale—people whose lives are not in any way conventional, but who find deep joy and purpose. You probably know someone who has suffered great loss and whose life did not play out as they had hoped, but still, they find joy and a deeper purpose despite it all. Often, these people have found meaning beyond the expected storylines of their culture and are people of faith. John the Baptist is just one example among many from the Bible, along with the many saints and faithful who offer different scripts—alternatives to the lives prescribed by Hollywood, Disney, social media, or even our cultural traditions. This script is God’s script, and it follows God’s purpose and calling on our lives instead.

As people of faith who follow Jesus, this is exactly where our deepest hopes and dreams are to be rooted, in what St. Paul describes in our reading today as the “glorious grace that [God] freely bestowed on us.” Scripture reminds us that no matter what twists and turns we face in life, no matter what trials or disappointments we suffer, they do not compare to the “inheritance” that God has for us. 

Paul writes, “having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will,” we are “blessed… with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places,” and “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit… the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people.”

When our lives find their meanings and purposes—not in human storylines, but in God’s storyline—the God who called John the Baptist, the prophets, the saints, and each of us to a life of faith, then we can start to see our lives very differently and adjust to new expectations. We can throw away the scripts and storylines someone handed to us or that we embraced long ago and realize that our lives find their deepest meaning and purpose in something much bigger and greater than ourselves and our individual storylines. And as we root ourselves more deeply in God and God’s Word, we begin to see that our lives have the potential to impact others with the love of God in a much deeper way than we ever imagined.

John the Baptist’s life was rather tragic, and yet, this is not how we usually think of John. We remember that he was a hero of the faith who paved the way for Jesus and helped bring salvation and the Good News of God to countless generations after him and whose witness still inspires us. Like all the saints, we have been blessed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, we have been called and redeemed by God, and we have been given God’s glorious grace to live lives full of meaning and purpose, imbued by none other than our Creator.

Maya Angelou once said, “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” Few of us will live fairytale lives. But we have a choice about how we will ultimately define our lives when we follow God’s storyline, and the grace, joy, and purpose it brings.

CONC

Jesus never promises us an easy time, at least not the kind of easy time the world dangles in front of us when it attempts to seduce us. We see this even in Christian communities. We feel like failures when our church membership numbers shrink. We feel like we’re not a success when we have to struggle to find the money to pay our church’s bills.

But if we look at the portrait of the earliest church, we’ll see that it wasn’t the megachurch model. The early church builds on an idea of cells, tiny little house churches of committed Christians. Some days I shake my head in awe at what a small group of people can accomplish.

And then I laugh at my own lack of memory. My History and Sociology classes years ago taught me the exact same thing: the most fascinating change is often created by small, committed bands of people. And the most successful changes are often made by people who are grounded and rooted in some kind of larger faith vision.

Yet the Gospel for this Sunday reminds us that success may not be at the end of our individual stories. We could commit ourselves to Christ’s mission only to find ourselves wasting away in prison, a victim of a corrupt society.

It’s a risk worth taking. We know how sustaining our faith can be and how important it is to build a faith community. We know how larger faith communities can change the world for the better.

Jesus offers us a chance to be part of the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom where everyone has enough and everyone has love and support. Of course, the catch is that the Kingdom isn’t here yet. We have to help build it.