Matthew 14

¹ At that time Herod the tetrarch heard about the fame of Jesus, ² and he said to his servants, “This is John the Baptist. He has been raised from the dead; that is why these miraculous powers are at work in him.” ³ For Herod had seized John and bound him and put him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, ⁴ because John had been saying to him, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” ⁵ And though he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people, because they held him to be a prophet. ⁶ But when Herod’s birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before the company and pleased Herod, ⁷ so that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she might ask. ⁸ Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me the head of John the Baptist here on a platter.” ⁹ And the king was sorry, but because of his oaths and his guests he commanded it to be given. ¹⁰ He sent and had John beheaded in the prison, ¹¹ and his head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, and she brought it to her mother. ¹² And his disciples came and took the body and buried it, and they went and told Jesus.

There is a long, rich history of Christian preachers rebuking political leaders, oftentimes at great peril to themselves. For instance, John Chrysostom, one of the most famous preachers and Christian leaders of all Christian history, clashed with Eudoxia, the wife of the 4^th century Emperor Arcadius.

Although an earnest Christian, she quarreled bitterly with John Chrysostom, patriarch of Constantinople, who attacked her and the frivolity of her court in outspoken terms. In 404 she expelled him from his see and sent him into exile.[1]

Or consider John Knox, the great 16^th century Protestant Reformer. Knox did not get along with Mary, Queen of Scots. They had numerous clashes and Knox more than once denounced her publicly from the pulpit. They once had a major clash because Knox was unhappy about the news of her forthcoming marriage.

The most dramatic interview between Mary and Knox took place on 24 June 1563.  Mary summoned Knox to Holyrood after hearing that he had been preaching against her proposed marriage to Don Carlos, the son of Philip II of Spain. Mary began by scolding Knox, then she burst into tears. “What have ye to do with my marriage?” she asked, and “What are ye within this commonwealth?” “A subject born within the same, Madam,” Knox replied. He noted that though he was not of noble birth, he had the same duty as any subject to warn of dangers to the realm. When Mary started to cry again, he said, “Madam, in God’s presence I speak: I never delighted in the weeping of any of God’s creatures; yea I can scarcely well abide the tears of my own boys whom my own hand corrects, much less can I rejoice in your Majesty’s weeping.” He added that he would rather endure her tears, however, than remain silent and “betray my Commonwealth”. At this, Mary ordered him out of the room.[2]

It can be a dangerous thing to challenge the behavior of rulers, yet it has been done! Most famously, John the Baptist did so. In one sense, he paid, of course, the greatest of prices. But it could also be said that he received one of the greatest honors as well.

The danger of prophetic boldness.

We begin with verse 3 and will return to verses 1 and 2 in our second point.

³ For Herod had seized John and bound him and put him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, ⁴ because John had been saying to him, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” ⁵ And though he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people, because they held him to be a prophet. ⁶ But when Herod’s birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before the company and pleased Herod

Here we are introduced to the primary characters in our story. The first is Herod, who verse 1 refers to as “Herod the tetrarch.” The HCSB Study Bible gives some helpful background.

Herod Antipas ruled as tetrarch of Galilee and Perea from about 4 b.c. until he was banished for seeking the kingship in a.d. 39 (Josephus, Ant. 18.252-54). In general, a tetrarch was one step below an ethnarch which was in turn a step below king.[3]

The second character is “Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife.” So Herodias is Herod’s sister-in-law. History tells us that Philip was Herod’s half-brother and that when he, Herod, began his relationship with her, she left Philip and he left his wife. The union was therefore inappropriate on a number of fronts. It was adulterous and, in the eyes of the Jews, it was incestuous.

The third character was Herodias’ daughter who danced before Herod at his birthday. The ESV Study Bible offers some interesting and some disturbing information about this girl.

Herodias had her daughter (named Salome in Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 18.136) perform a dance for Herod Antipas. She was only 12 to 14 years old, but in that debased setting it likely was a sensual dance, which pleased Herod.[4]

Regardless of how a girl this age might have been viewed in antiquity, we would call her a child. And, on top of that, she was Herod’s niece! And, on top of that, she was the daughter of the woman with whom Herod was involved. It is amazing how lust can debase us and pull us further and further into shocking behavior. “Shocking” would certainly seem to apply to Herod’s behavior and to this entire macabre scene.

The main character, of course, is John the Baptist, the victim of Herod’s and Herodias’ lust and wrath. Let us start back at verse 3 and get a fresh running start at this story.

³ For Herod had seized John and bound him and put him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, ⁴ because John had been saying to him, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” ⁵ And though he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people, because they held him to be a prophet. ⁶ But when Herod’s birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before the company and pleased Herod,  ⁷ so that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she might ask. ⁸ Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me the head of John the Baptist here on a platter.” ⁹ And the king was sorry, but because of his oaths and his guests he commanded it to be given. ¹⁰ He sent and had John beheaded in the prison, ¹¹ and his head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, and she brought it to her mother. ¹² And his disciples came and took the body and buried it, and they went and told Jesus.

It is telling that the first martyr of the gospels was a man of God who challenged a politician about his sexual sin. This passage does indeed have a great deal to say about the nature and corruption of politics and political ambition. Notice, for instance:

• Because Herod feared the people he did not have John put to death. (v.5)

• Because Herod feared the people he did have John put to death. (v.9)

• Herod had the conviction to kill John but not the courage to do so. (v.5)

• Herod had the conviction not to kill John but not the courage not to do so. (v.9)

This is politics: a man without the full force of conviction always modulating on the basis of what he thinks the room wants of him. This is cowardice. This is a tragedy.

And what of Herodias? What depravity! What wickedness! But you would have to give her this: unlike Herod she was in fact a person of conviction. There was one thing she knew: John the Baptist had publicly shamed her and she would have her revenge. So piling shame upon shame she used (a) her daughter’s (apparent) sensual dancing (though the text does not describe the nature of it) and (b) Herod’s (obvious!) depraved lustfulness as a door through which her murderous bloodlust could be satiated. Herod and Herodias were both driven by lust: Herod for flesh and Herodias for the blood.

History records other such scenes. The church father Jerome writes of one.

In Roman history we read about the Roman general Flaminius, who at a dinner was seated next to a prostitute. She said that she had never seen a man decapitated. So he agreed to cut off the head of a man guilty of a capital crime at the banquet. Because he shed blood at a banquet, Flaminius was driven out of the senate by the magistrates. For pleasure of another, he offered up, however guilty, a man to death, and lust and murder were mixed together. How much more despicable are Herod, Herodias, and the girl who danced for the price of blood.[5]

The characters in this story are debased and wicked. They are debauched. They are carnal. They are lost. But not all the characters. There is one who shines oh so bright: John the Baptist!

In contrast to this sad cast of characters is the sterling image of John: a man of conviction, a man of courage, a man of truth, and a man of fearless proclamation. John faced the fate of all true prophets: persecution at least and oftentimes death. And John faced it because of another similarity between him and all true prophets: a fearless determination to say “Thus saith the Lord!” regardless of the cost! In his amazing sermon of Acts 7, Stephen, another martyr, acknowledged this fact.

⁵¹ “You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. ⁵² Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, ⁵³ you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it.”

Yes, the world has always hated her prophets, those brave men and women who dare to speak the truth. There is a price to be paid for speaking the truth. Even so, the prophets know something else: there is a bigger price to be paid for not doing so! John paid a price, but John was ultimately victorious!

The honor of prophetic boldness.

There is a price to be paid for prophetic boldness, but there is also honor to be had. It is interesting to note what Herod thinks when Jesus comes on the scene.

¹ At that time Herod the tetrarch heard about the fame of Jesus, ² and he said to his servants, “This is John the Baptist. He has been raised from the dead; that is why these miraculous powers are at work in him.”

Herod, hearing about Jesus, assumes that this Jesus must be John the Baptist back from the dead. In assuming this Herod was being consistent with the superstitious and ghost-haunted worldview of the time. Surely this assumption of a resurrected John the Baptist was guilt-driven.

I remember as a child hearing a dramatized audio version of Edgar Allan Poe’s January 1843 story, “The Tell-Tale Heart,” about a man who murders the person with whom he lives and then dismembers him and buries him under the floorboards of the house. Having carefully disposed of the body, the man is in the clear. Yet, when the police visit to make inquiries, the murderer is driven mad in their presence by a sound that only he can hear. Here is how the story ends:

No doubt I now grew very pale;—but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased—and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound—much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath—and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly—more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men—but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed—I raved—I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder—louder—louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!—no, no! They heard!—they suspected!—they knew!—they were making a mockery of my horror!—this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die!—and now—again!—hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! —

“Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks!—here, here!—it is the beating of his hideous heart!”[6]

Ah! The killer was driven mad by the sound of his victim’s beating heart. It made no sense, but he could not shake the idea that somehow the man he killed yet lived. So, too, Herod! This person named Jesus must be none other than the man he killed! John’s heart must somehow be beating in the chest of this Jesus!

In fact, he was on to something, but he was not quite to the truth of it. It was not John’s heart that beat in the chest of Jesus: it was Jesus’ heart that had beaten in the chest of John!

The most singular compliment that Herod could have paid John, the man he had beheaded, was to confuse him with Jesus and Jesus with him! But this is ever and always the great honor of prophetic boldness: when we are really willing to state the truth with boldness and courage, when we are willing to die for “Thus says the Lord!”, and when we are willing to seal our testimony with our blood, that is when we are most like Jesus.

John had taken up his cross, so to speak. John could not lay down his life for us like Jesus could, but John could lay down his life! And it is amazing and awe-inspiring that he did so!

For this reason I find the church father Origen’s takeaway from this passage so very strange. Here is what Origen saw as the lesson of the text:

What is said here teaches us that we should escape those who—plotting against us because of the Word—persecute us. This is truly the thoughtful way to act. When it is possible for us to keep free of dire situations, it is reckless and rash to rush headlong into them. One should not fret over avoiding such things, for Jesus not only withdrew after what happened to John, he even taught us: If they persecute you in this city, then flee to the other (10:23).

            Therefore, if an occasion of testing suddenly overwhelms us and we cannot avoid it, we must endure such a test with great nobility and courage. But if such a test can be avoided, it would be extremely reckless not to do so.[7]

Come now! The point is not that we should avoid danger, though the question of avoiding persecution if we can is a legitimate question as far as it goes. No, the point is that we are most like Christ when we are willing to lay down our lives in obedience to the cause to which the Lord has called us.

John is not to be scolded for being reckless. No. John is the be praised for being a man of bold integrity.

But more than that, John is to be imitated, because, in being obedient to the point of death, John was imitating Jesus.

There is a price to pay for prophetic boldness…but there is also honor to be had!

Let us thank the Lord for the challenge of the boldness and courage of our eccentric but amazing brother in Christ, John the Baptist!

 

[1] https://www.britannica.com/biography/Eudoxia-Byzantine-queen

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Knox#Knox_and_Queen_Mary,_1561–1564

[3] Holman Bible Editorial Staff, Holman Bible Editorial Staff. HCSB Study Bible (Kindle Locations 134193-134195). B&H Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[4] Crossway Bibles. ESV Study Bible (Kindle Locations 118320-118321). Good News Publishers/Crossway Books. Kindle Edition.

[5] D.H. Williams, ed. Matthew. The Church’s Bible. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2018), p.284.

[6] https://poemuseum.org/the-tell-tale-heart/

[7] D.H. Williams, p.284.