Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
Today’s Gospel reading, Mark 6:14-29, opens with a report of various speculations about Jesus’ identity (vv 14-16). The dramatic, skillfully crafted story of the execution of John the Baptist by Herod Antipas functions as “back-story,” explaining Antipas’s belief that Jesus is John the Baptist come back to life. Two Markan themes, the identity of Jesus and the cost of following him, continue here.
Experts in trauma recovery theory remind us that texts like this one can be upsetting to children, as well as to anyone traumatized by past experiences of violence. Preachers must weigh whether, and how, to present the sheer grisly violence of the beheading/ head presentation scenes in this “text of terror.” Many preachers today choose to issue an advisory to the congregation in advance if scenes of violence are likely to be read in the service. This allows parishioners to use discretion about whether they, or their children, should plan to be present on that occasion. Fortunately, one need not dwell on the gruesome details of today’s text to preach from it in responsible, relevant ways.
Our text suggests at least three themes with clear relevance in our own time: 1) wresting with the identity of Jesus, and what our answers require of us; 2) the courage of John the Baptist to “speak truth to power,” what such truth-telling has cost Christians across history, and what it may look like today; and 3) the fateful difference between, on one hand, leadership as performative crowd-pleasing and, on the other, leadership as truth-driven, compassionate wisdom.
Literature devoted to the question, “Who, really is/was Jesus?”—popular as well as scholarly—abounds these days. In Jesus’ day, many conjectured that he was a prophet of old, risen from the grave. (Many contemporary scholars indeed argue that Jesus’ ministry has affinities with the role of “apocalyptic prophet.”) While comparisons can be illuminating, certain reductive categorizations of Jesus—spiritual teacher, religious reformer, social activist—deftly bracket out aspects of Christian witness to Jesus’ mission, especially resurrection. When we reckon with the full sweep of Christian witness, we discover that the Son of Man requires of us more than admiration, or even emulation.
A different sermon might lay the truth-telling courage of John the Baptist alongside contemporary figures who embody costly, faithful witness. Ideally, such a sermon would include at least one portrait of truth-telling courage that features an ordinary (perhaps even local) individual. Ordinary Christians have persisted in bold truth-telling in local situations, exposing workplace safety violations or dangerous negligence in low-income housing, defying efforts of the powerful to silence them.
Finally, the right use of power, as well as the evils of ill-won and abusive power, are core canonical concerns—reason enough for preachers to speak of power from the pulpit. This can be done without invoking partisan politics. Herod Antipas represents leadership that forsakes truth-telling, justice, and compassion in favor of the power of (fickle) public acclaim. One’s public, of course, must be carefully consolidated by means of flattery, grandiose promises, scapegoating, and threat. In stark contrast, Jesus models the servant-like power he teaches to his disciples: power that is humble, courageous, and self-giving, exercised for and on behalf of others. Christlike power empowers the powerless, so that those counted least and less may exercise freedom, dignity and fullness of life.
Insights into Biblical Greek Grammar and Syntax 