Yet He Heard Him Gladly

Mark 6 : 14 - 21

We can continue to meditate on the same topic as in the previous passage, namely the cost of discipleship. This passage is closely related, and it is not a coincidence that Mark orders the story in this way.

Since this is the gospel of Jesus Christ, of course, the most important figure is Jesus and almost every passage is about him. In the Gospel of Mark, there are only two passages that are not about Jesus. Those passages are about John the Baptist, and this is one of them. We know that John the Baptist is the forerunner of Jesus. In New Testament scholarship, some critical scholars may say that Jesus is the successor of John the Baptist. From the evangelical perspective, however, we say that John is the forerunner of Jesus. In any case, Jesus and John the Baptist are closely related.

If we recognize that John the Baptist is the forerunner of Jesus Christ, we can see that this story anticipates the Passion of Jesus. John the Baptist did not only prepare the way for Jesus, but also prepared the death of Jesus. There are also similarities in both stories. Both John and Jesus were executed by political despots and tyrants due to certain social pressure. In the case of Herod Antipas, the pressure came from his own family, and also from his guests at the banquet. In the case of Pilate, he gave in, with a certain reluctance, to the crowd. He was afraid that if he did not satisfy them, a riot might break out. Once again, there is a strong relation between the previous passage on discipleship and this story. Mark wants his readers to know that this is the cost of discipleship. It is not merely a beautiful theoretical ideal, but something to be lived out in real life.

Verse 14 shows that people held different views about Jesus. Some identified him as John the Baptist. Others said he is Elijah or a prophet like one of the prophets of old. So when Herod Antipas said that Jesus was John the Baptist, this idea did not originate from him; others also thought that Jesus was John raised from the dead. But notice a particular difference in what Herod said. He added something extra, as we read in verse 16: “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” The phrase “whom I beheaded” is what stands out. He was not boasting about his military or political power. Rather, this reflects, most probably, his paranoia. He apparently could not overcome the sense of guilt over what he had done. Do not underestimate the problem of guilt. If we cannot deal with guilt rightly before God and be reconciled to him, then this is what will happen in our lives. Sometimes we gaslight others, guilt-trip them, try to make it up through moral compensation, and so on.

Herod Antipas’ marriage to Herodias was deeply problematic, as explained in this passage. Herodias had been the wife of his half-brother, Herod Philip. Yet Herod Antipas persuaded her to divorce her husband and marry him instead. The situation was further complicated because Herodias was the daughter of Aristobulus, who was also a half-brother of Herod Antipas, and both lines trace back to Herod the Great. That means Herodias was Herod the Great’s granddaughter, and Herod Antipas’ niece. Despite their political power and riches, what we see here is a picture of a deeply dysfunctional family.

John the Baptist was raised up by God himself. Therefore, when he rebuked sin, he did not calculate the risk or ask whether it was wise to confront certain people. He rebuked everyone, even when it may put him in danger. What is striking is that Herod Antipas seems to have known that John’s rebuke was right. That is why, after he beheaded John the Baptist, he could not suppress his guilt over what he had done. Verse 20 tells us that Herod, in some way, feared John the Baptist, because he knew that John was a righteous and holy man. But there is an interesting phrase in this verse: “yet he heard him gladly.” Even Herod could not deny that there was truth in what John said. But John’s message was inconvenient and uncomfortable. There is a dialectic in his heart. On the one hand, he knew he should listen, because John was a man of God who was not trying to please him. On the other hand, he was being called to repent, and yet he did not want to repent.

The church is already doing enough by preaching the word of God faithfully. We may be rejected, but as long as we preach the gospel faithfully, it may create a dialectic in those who hear, even if, as in the story of Herod, they do not repent. The responsibility remains with the hearers, that they must respond rightly before God. This is not the responsibility of the church, and it is not the responsibility of Christians. Rather, each person must respond before God. The problem is, of course, sometimes the church is tempted to please society, and to water down the message to make it more acceptable. But this is not what we see in the life of John the Baptist. He rebuked sin plainly. And again, there is a high cost in discipleship.

In the eyes of society, Jesus was often spoken of with high regard, even when he was not believed to be the Messiah. People might not recognize him as the Christ, yet they still gave him great titles like “John the Baptist raised from the dead”, or “Elijah”, one of the greatest prophets in the Old Testament, or at least “a prophet, like one of the prophets of old”. Yet having a high opinion of Jesus is not the same as having faith in him. Even Herod Antipas also regarded Jesus highly when he referred to him as “John, whom I beheaded.” There is an irony here, as one commentator notes, that Herod, a politician from a deeply dysfunctional household, even held a higher opinion of Jesus compared to Jesus’ own relatives and family in the previous passage.

Once again, having a high opinion of Jesus is not the same as believing in him. The same is true in our contemporary world today. Many people respect and have a high opinion of Jesus. Many regard him as the greatest moral example, an example of a life of sacrifice, altruism, and so on. But having a high opinion of Jesus and following him are not the same. It is not enough to simply admire him. You and I are invited to follow Jesus. When we follow Jesus, we will know the cost of discipleship, which is to bear the cross. Herod Antipas had a high opinion of Jesus, and he even feared John the Baptist, because he knew John was righteous and holy. Yet he still did not want to repent.

Herod Antipas may have told himself that, at least he did not kill John, and that he had kept John ‘safe’ in custody. This was an injustice, but he could still frame it as doing John some good. As one commentary says, “Antipas hopes to achieve an expedient end by doing a limited injustice. But like anyone who lives by such philosophy, he can choose to do a limited act of injustice, but he cannot determine the greater injustice to which it will lead.” You cannot control the outcome. In other words, we may comfort ourselves by framing it only as a small injustice, not comparable to what truly evil people do. Yet many times we do not see the domino effect, the harm that follows. Even Herod Antipas did not expect that his action resulted in the beheading of John the Baptist.

This story ends in tragedy. But perhaps one good thing in this story of John’s martyrdom is that his disciples came to ask for his body, so that he could be buried properly. Again, this anticipates the burial of Jesus Christ, when Joseph of Arimathea also came forward to bury Jesus’ body. It takes courage to do this. It is easy to take pride when your leader is successful and celebrated. But when he died a tragic and gruesome death, they still came to give him a proper burial, showing that they are indeed true disciples. The core of this passage is that everyone who follows Jesus must reckon with the fate of John. This is the cost of discipleship. John’s death anticipates Jesus’ death, and also points to the deaths of Jesus’ followers afterward.

I want to end with a quotation by Irenaeus, also quoted by John Calvin in the Institutes: “The whole business of a Christian is nothing else but to be ever preparing for death.” In the Gospel of Mark, we read about martyrdom and invitation to bear our cross. The Gospel of Luke draws heavily from Mark, but Luke enriches this invitation with additional emphasis: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” What does it mean to take up the cross daily? It means that even when we do not experience martyrdom, we are still invited to bear our cross and deny ourselves daily, to die with Jesus every day.

Perhaps we may ask, where is the good news here? This is a religion that invites us to die. But the good news is that we are talking about the death of our old self, and the vivification, the living of the new creature in Christ. Because when there is no dying, there is no living. In history, from the medieval period through the Renaissance and into the Baroque, there were literatures about the art of dying, ars moriendi. But beginning in the Late Baroque period, as we moved to the Enlightenment, people stopped writing about the art of dying, and the focus shifted to the art of living. Talk of dying was increasingly seen as outdated and pessimistic, while people preferred to celebrate the beauty of life.

But this is a misunderstanding. When the pious wrote about the art of dying, it was to teach us how to live righteously before God. So the art of dying is, at the same time, also the art of living. If we do not grasp the vanity of our life, how can we live rightly and beautifully? So when Jesus invites us to die with him, and to bear our cross, he is inviting us to live with him. Only through dying to self do we receive the life of Jesus Christ. If we refuse to die, if we are reluctant to die, then there is no life of Jesus Christ in our life; it’s always the old self that will reign in us. May God help us to understand his will and his wisdom, and to receive this happy and blessed invitation. (T.F.L.)