2018-07-16
Brooke Strong
Lord of the Dance
Scripture Mark 6:14-29
As you may know, the word “gospel” at its core means “Good News.” But you wouldn’t know it from this gospel reading, would you? Try as we might, I think you’ll agree with me, there is no good news to be found in this story. Yet Mark believes it is an important enough event to give us a detailed account about what happens to this prophet and forerunner of Jesus, John the Baptist.
John is an important figure in Mark’s gospel. He begins his gospel with John preaching repentance, and by the 9th verse of that first chapter, John is already baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River. From the other gospel writers, we get a bit more background on John, and his relationship with Jesus. You probably know the story of his conception and birth. He was born to Mary’s cousin Elizabeth in her old age, when everyone thought she was barren. An angel had come to her husband Zacharias, telling him that he and Elizabeth would have a son, that they should name him John, and that he would be the one to prepare the way for the Messiah, Jesus. When Mary, newly pregnant, visits Elizabeth, who is in her sixth month of pregnancy, we are told that John leaps with joy in her womb. Already before birth, John is dancing with delight at the news of a Messiah coming to save the people of Israel.
Since their mothers were cousins and friends, and these two boys were both chosen by God for specific roles, my imagination tells me that Jesus and John probably had a special bond between them. Did they get together periodically while growing up, and share how they understood the different calls God had for them? Did they commiserate that others just did not get the particular dance of life that they were embarking upon? We aren’t given this kind of information, but we are told a little about their paths.
John had been living in the desert, subsisting on locusts and wild honey, and calling people to repentance so they could be prepared to welcome Jesus. Part of his calling was to speak out about what he knew to be sinful, and this is what got him into a boatload of trouble, especially when he called out Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee.
This Herod was the nephew of the Herod who had been the ruler when Jesus and John were born. This current King met his wife Herodias while traveling in Rome. She just happened to have been the wife of his brother at the time, but why should such a trivial detail like that stand in the way of their affair, and subsequent marriage? Because they divorced their respective spouses in order to wed, John mentioned, maybe more than once in his preaching, that King Herod and Herodias had broken Jewish law, and therefore their marriage was a sham.
So John is going about his business of preaching repentance and baptizing people, when lo and behold, Jesus himself comes to him to be baptized. Although John wanted to refuse on the grounds that Jesus has nothing to repent of, Jesus convinces him. This must have been a tender and beautiful moment between these second cousins as they step into the Jordan River together, a sense of rightness, of fulfillment, bringing both of them a deep gladness and joy, an affirmation that they were both on the path to which God had called them. This pivotal event was also quite probably the last time they saw each other on this side of eternity.
Although we’re not given a specific chronological timeline, John was probably arrested by Herod shortly after this. Herod had conflicting feelings about John – he was perturbed at being called out and named a sinner, but he also was intrigued by John’s teachings. Herod thought that locking John up in prison would keep him under his control, and silence him from spreading his condemning message about Herod’s marriage.
So while Herod’s feelings about John were conflicted between annoyance and admiration, his wife Herodias seemed to waver in her feelings only among hate, anger and wanting revenge. Because she did not have the authority to exact that revenge, however, she could only bide her time.
We’re given great details about the events leading up to the ultimate act of revenge by Herodias. Her husband Herod has a party – with all the big-wigs in the town. There is a lot of eating and drinking and being merry at this birthday celebration, and Herod calls his stepdaughter, who we also know as Salome, to come and dance for them. We don’t know what dance she did, but can probably assume it was not the hokey-pokey. Whatever it was, this dance pleased Herod and his guests to no end. In his exuberance and enthusiasm, the King makes an extravagant promise. Anything she wants he will give her. ANYTHING!
This child doesn’t know what to ask for, so she goes to her mother for counsel. And this is exactly the opportunity Herodias had been waiting for –finally, after all this time that she’s been stewing and nursing a horrific grudge against John – an opportunity for revenge so perfect falls into her lap. She tells her daughter to ask for the head of John the Baptist.
What is poor Herod to do? He really didn’t want to kill John, but he can’t lose face in front of all his guests. So he sends his men down to slay John.
Meanwhile, let’s get back to John. Here he is, sitting in prison, after he had been dancing to God’s tune his whole life. He’s had some time to think, and probably begins to wonder: Is Jesus really the promised Messiah? John’s been hearing reports about him that are making him doubt. Isn’t the Messiah supposed to be overthrowing Rome, and returning power to the Israelites? But he’s heard that Jesus was at a wedding turning water into wine, what is that about? And that he’s been hanging out with fishermen, and tax collectors and prostitutes. Not exactly the types to gather if you’re planning a revolution. And if Jesus is the Savior, why isn’t he coming to save John, who’s stuck in prison? If Jesus is out there preaching the good news, where is the good news for him?
As it turns out, there is no good news for John in this story. We have no miraculous rescue, no last minute changing of Herod’s mind. What we have is a gruesome beheading. What kind of gospel story is this? Shouldn’t it be that when people allow God to lead them in the dance of life, and they follow this calling, that God is supposed to protect them, and take care of them?
When I was writing my paper for my ordination, and reflecting on my calling, I used the quote by the theologian Frederick Buechner in which he says: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” I wrote that I felt like I had found that place, here in my vocation to ministry, here in my call as minister at Federated Church. My heart sings in this community, and I dance with joy at serving here.
But our gospel story for today presents another side to what God’s call might entail. I’m sure John and Jesus both had moments of deep gladness in their ministries, in their calls, but there was no joy in how either of their lives ended. They were both called to challenge the people in power, and name what was wrong with the structure that supported that power. The Rev. Dr. Catherine Taylor writes: “There is real danger in naming what is wrong in the world and trying to change it. Even the way the story [of John’s beheading] is placed in the Gospel makes the point. It's sandwiched right in the middle of the sending of the twelve. Just before John's beheading, Jesus sends the twelve out to teach, preach, and heal . . . After the gruesome platter is brought into the banquet, the disciples return to Jesus and report their success. Good and successful ministry, it seems, happens right alongside violent opposition.”
She goes on to say: “And that's the other reason for the story. It just might be that some of us who try to follow Christ have been following too safe a course, sitting in mighty comfortable seats at the banquet, so much so that we need this awful story to help us ask if we are following the One whose way was full of danger and whose final destination was a cross.”
She says, “Don't get me wrong. I'm not suggesting that Christians manufacture confrontations to ensure that we are faithful folk, … Relatively few Christians, thanks be to God, are called to be martyrs. But all of us who would follow Christ are called to confront, as well as we can, the wrong we see around us, and confrontation is never comfortable. To pay that price is to stand with many who followed the path that John prepared for the One who came after him.”1
Personally, I’d rather go with Frederick Beuchner’s statement than listen to what Rev. Dr. Taylor writes. I’m all for deep gladness rather than confrontation. And so, this gospel is really challenging for me, and maybe for you as well. It makes me ask, “Why would anyone want to speak truth to power, confront authority, oppose their superiors?” Most of the time, doing these things results in someone biting your head off, or worse. Is this kind of confrontation worth it when it seems that you’re just spinning your wheels, going in circles, getting nowhere? Or when your dance of justice is just leading you into trouble? In our gospel story, I wonder if John felt like this about his life, a life that he gave unreservedly to the calling God had for him? Did he feel it was all for naught?
It is at times like these, when I wrestle with these questions, that I turn to some of the principles of spiritual activism put out by the Satyana Organization. Two of these in particular give me hope. The first one says: Your work is for the world, not for you. In doing service work, you are working for others. The full harvest of your work may not take place in your lifetime, yet your efforts now are making possible a better life for future generations. Let your fulfillment come in gratitude for being called to do this work, and from doing it with as much compassion, authenticity, fortitude, and forgiveness as you can muster.
So in the instances when I do this hard work of confrontation and I don’t see immediate results, when I get discouraged, I try to remember to take the long view. There were plenty of people before me, including John and Jesus, who never saw the results of their passionate and meaningful work, who never knew the incredible impact of their lives, before they died.
The other principle is this: Rely on faith, and let go of having to figure it all out. There are larger 'divine' forces at work that we can trust completely without knowing their precise workings or agendas. Faith means trusting the unknown, and offering yourself as a vehicle for the intrinsic benevolence of the cosmos. "The first step to wisdom is silence. The second is listening." If you genuinely ask inwardly and listen for guidance, and then follow it carefully—you are working in accord with these larger forces, and you become the instrument for their music.2
That is what we are called to in this dance of life – to become an instrument for the music of a larger force, the music of Christ. We are called to become his partner in the dance of justice and healing for the world. We don’t do it because we believe that following Jesus will solve all our problems, or will privilege us so that nothing bad will happen to us. We partner with Jesus in order to serve because it is our calling. We know we will face storms of hardship, discouragement, frustration. But we also believe that “Life isn't about waiting for those storms to pass...It's about learning to dance in the rain.”3 (Vivian Green)
And so we join in the dance with the Lord of the Dance –the one who promises always that if we live in him, he will live in us. And whether we feel his presence or not, let us trust that when we partner with Jesus, we never dance alone. May we hear and dance to the tune of God’s call in our hearts, now and forever more. Amen.
1http://day1.org/507-remembering_faith
2 http://www.satyana.org/principles_new.html
3https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/132836-life-isn-t-about-waiting-for-the-storm-to-pass-it-s-about