This Is not the End

Proper 10, Year B
Mark 6:14-29
The Rev. Joshua Rodriguez-Hobbs

The Lectionary has given us an odd Gospel reading this morning. To begin with, this is the only part of Mark’s Gospel where Jesus is not the central character. Instead, here, and only here, Herod Antipas takes center stage. This is not the King Herod of Matthew’s Gospel, who orders the execution of every baby boy in Bethlehem. That Herod is Herod the Great. Instead, this King Herod is one of Herod the Great’s three sons, all named Herod, who ruled over a portion of their father’s kingdom. Herod Antipas was ruler of Galilee and Perea, and is the same Herod that Pilate sends Jesus to for judgment in Luke’s Gospel.

Beyond this sudden character change, this reading is also odd because it’s hard to point to the good news in it. That’s odd, because it’s a gospel reading, and gospel, after all, means “good news.” But good news seems to be in short supply this morning. Instead, all we have is the vicious politics of the Herodian dynasty. We have insinuations that Herod Antipas was a weak king, who was manipulated by his wife, a woman of questionable virtue, who like Jezebel before her enticed her royal husband into wickedness. We have the death of John the Baptist as part of a court intrigue. It’s hard to see how there’s any room for good news in these fifteen verses of Mark’s Gospel.

But this part of Mark’s Gospel, is most familiar to us. We weren’t there when Jesus stilled the storm or walked on water or multiplied the loaves and fishes. We weren’t there when Jesus raised the dead or cast out demons or healed the sick. We weren’t there when the tomb was found empty, when the risen Jesus appeared in that upper room, or when he ascended into heaven. We believe these things, but we can only wonder what they were like. But we have experienced politics. Maybe less bloody politics than those of the Herodians, but perhaps no less brutal. The petty politics of the school lunchroom, the economic politics of the boardroom, the political wrangling in Annapolis and Washington, DC, even the politics of the church. As we hear Mark’s account of John the Baptist’s death, we are reminded of the darker parts of our human nature: the desire to maintain power whatever the cost, the temptation to use other people as pawns to achieve our own ends, the hatred that drives us to rash decisions. We see the heartbreaking tragedy of John’s undeserved end reflected countless times in our own day and age, perhaps, most heartbreakingly of all, in conflicts within the church.

It’s hard to find good news in any of that, I know. Believe me, I know. But this is the gospel reading the Lectionary has given us,  and there must be some good news in it.

I spent the past week at Camp Claggett with campers between the ages of nine and twelve. I have to tell you, I saw these sorts of politics even there. One of my “others duties as assigned” as chaplain ended up being giving a stern talk about name calling to a group of campers. But I also saw the campers do amazing things. I watched the children show amazing concern, at least at their better moments, to make sure that everyone was included, that there were no outcasts at camp. I listened to them pray for things both incredibly mundane and incredibly profound in chapel. I was even told by a camper than chapel was almost as much fun as the swimming pool.

The theme of Camp Claggett this year is  “In Your Own Words: Finding Your Place in God’s Story.” We talked about the importance of stories,  both stories of our own lives and of our families and also the Great Story of God’s love for us that we call the Gospel. That story began at creation, when God spoke the world into being. It continued with the calling of Abraham, the choosing of the children of Israel to be God’s people, their exodus from Egypt, wandering in the desert, and settling in the Promised Land. It continued with the judges, the kings, and the prophets, with exile and return, with the promise of the messiah. It continued with a young peasant girl named Mary, who accepted her place in the Story with a courageous yes. It continued with the birth of Emmanuel—God with Us—in Bethlehem. with his teaching, preaching and healing. It continued even after the cross, with the resurrection and ascension, with the birth of the church, and it is still being told today, in your life and mine as we follow Jesus Christ.

God’s story is our story, and our story is God's story.

Maybe that is the good news for us today. Because, in the vast scope of God’s Story, Herod Antipas is just a footnote. All those rulers who abuse their power are. They are never permitted to have the last word. Herod doesn’t have the last word in Mark’s Gospel. He fades into obscurity, as do Herodias and her daughter. The Good News for us today is that the last word is always God’s. The Story is still being told. God has not abandoned us. God will not abandon us.

In the words of that familiar hymn: "This is my Father's world, o let me ne'er forget, that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet."

Amen.