Occasion

This is a homily for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, July 12, 2009, based upon the day’s Gospel, Mark 6:14-29.

Prayer

Let us pray…
“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation[s] of [our] heart[s]
be acceptable to you,
O LORD, [our] rock and [our] redeemer.” Amen. (Psalm 19:14, NRSV)

Homily

One of the sayings I learned in German class in college
has stuck with me all these years,
even as my limited ability to speak and read the language
has largely faded away.

My professor led us in exploring German literature,
and he drilled into my classmates and me
the saying, “It is always in the details.”

And by that, he meant that when
we read and appreciate a work of literature,
we should pay attention to the choices
the writer has made.

We should assume that the writer was an artist,
and that he or she selected each word
and placed it in a particular place
in a sentence.
And then we would look at how
the writer strung those sentences together
in a precise order
so that we, the readers,
would experience the desired sweep of the story,
feel the emotions of the characters,
and know their victories and defeats.

This saying, “It is always in the details,”
can be a helpful guide, too, when reading the Bible.
The writers of the Scriptures
not only were inspired as artists
to create a lasting work of profound beauty
but also were inspired by the Spirit
to proclaim the Word of God.

So, it’s a natural thing for us
to listen to today’s Gospel
—a hard and strange story—
to dwell on the details,
and to ask some questions.

And maybe by looking
at how Mark arranges the story,
and at what he says and when,
we can open ourselves
to the inspired message
God wants to share with us
through this text.

The story begins right where
last week’s Gospel ended.
The disciples, empowered by Jesus,
travel with only staves and sandals and tunics
and proclaim a message of repentance,
cast out demons,
and anoint the sick and cure them.

Then Mark writes:
14King Herod heard of [the work of the Twelve], for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” 15But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” 16But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised” (Mark 6:14-16, NRSV).

And in a way, that’s the end of the story,
or at least the main plot of the story.
Because if you jump ahead,
past the last verse of today’s Gospel,
Mark tells how the Twelve,
now called apostles,
report to Jesus:
30The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught (Mark 6:31, NRSV).

So what Mark tells us
is that Jesus authorizes his followers
to minister with the power of God.
Their work catches people’s attention,
and they in turn wonder and speculate
about what is going on.
Then the followers return to Jesus
and tell him the stories of their ministry.

That much is pretty clear and straightforward.
But then, Mark sticks this long and graphic and disturbing account
of the beheading of John the Baptist
right into the middle of the story
of the apostles’ ministry in Jesus’ name.

In fact, this story’s strange and disturbing details
might explain why
the account of the beheading
had not appeared in our lectionary
until our church released its new worship book
three years ago.
So this might be at most the second time
we have heard this passage in worship.

But remember that we are trusting
Mark as an inspired artist and writer.
So when he pulls apart the story
of the apostles and slips in
what we’d call a flashback
to explain the beheading of John the Baptist,
he must have a compelling message
to share with us in that flashback.

In Mark’s story,
the work of the disciples
causes a stir and leads people to speculate.
They try to explain
those powerful calls to repent,
the throwing out of demons,
and the healing of sick people.

And in ways that are so familiar to us,
they look for explanations
for what they don’t know
in what they do know.

Maybe the buzz is about
John the baptizer, they say to one another.
He was killed,
but perhaps he’s come back to life.
Or maybe Elijah has returned.
Or if not him, perhaps another prophet.

Even Herod, the king or tetrarch,
weighs in with his theories:
It must be John. I’d had him beheaded,
but he has been raised.

Since we know the whole Gospel,
we can see where everyone goes off the track.
We know that Mark’s account starts out saying,
“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” (Mark 1:1, NRSV).
And near its end, the centurion standing before Jesus on the cross, says,
“Truly this man was God’s Son” (Mark 15:39b, NRSV).
We know that Jesus is not Elijah returned or any prophet;
he is the Son of God.

And we know that John comes to point beyond himself,
to redirect attention to Jesus Christ.
And so he cries in the wilderness,
“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight” (Mark 1:3b, NRSV).
And he proclaims,
“The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me…” (Mark 1:17a, NRSV).

This is about all we know of John’s message.
And all we do know of John the man is that he never strayed
from pointing to Jesus Christ and his ministry.
And so, maybe, the reason
Mark tells us about John’s beheading
is to bring together the man and his message,
to show how silencing him actually speaks God’s word.

Because John spoke fearlessly,
and without regard for his own self-preservation,
because he spoke God’s truth,
even to people in power,
he remained faithful to the end
in witnessing to Jesus Christ.

His grisly and gory death,
his witness become martyrdom,
was his final testimony,
his final wordless
act of proclamation.

In his silent and speechless death,
he shouted to all people,
“These deeds of power are not mine,
nor Elijah’s nor any prophets’.
They are the work of Jesus Christ,
the one who comes saying,
‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;
repent, and believe in the good news’ (Mark 1:15, NRSV).”

It might be hard for us
to see ourselves
reflected in the faces
of ancient Galilean courtiers and officers and leaders.
We might not identify
with schemers in the back rooms of palaces.

But when it comes to the nameless, faceless people
in the crowds, walking on the streets,
gathering in the marketplace, sitting in the taverns,
talking about the strange news
circulating about these followers of Jesus,
we have no trouble seeing ourselves in them.

It is a sadly natural reaction among us.
In ways so common among all people,
we too look for explanations
for what we don’t know
in what we do know.

And so we ignore John’s witness and message,
and we try to explain the events in our lives
as the actions of forces and causes
we know and understand.

What attracts people to come to church—
this church or any church?
Perhaps it is our location.
We’re easy to reach, on a well-traveled road.
Maybe our worship is inviting
for people who like contemporary or traditional music.

What inspires people to give generously?
It could be that we are clear about how
donations are allocated and spent.
It might be that a certain cause is appealing,
or a special ministry is attractive.

It’s not that location and style
and accountability and presentation
don’t matter, because they do.
They are all parts of how
we work together faithfully
to point, like John the Baptist,
to Jesus Christ and his message of the kingdom.

But in the end,
the only real and true and trustworthy explanation
is the one that we don’t fully know
and will not fully understand in this life.

In the end,
we can’t follow John the Baptist’s direction,
we can’t come after the apostles
and proclaim the message of the kingdom
and invite repentance
and pray for healing
if we are content to find our explanations
in the things we know.

In the end,
we have only our faith
in the same Jesus Christ
who came up from the waters,
baptized by John,
and now has washed us in the waters of baptism.

In the end,
we have only our trust
in the Son of God
who sent his apostles
with only the necessary equipment,
and now sends us

with exactly what we need.

In the end,
we have only our hope
in the risen Lord
who has poured out his power in his followers
to witness and serve, and perhaps to die ,
and now pours out his Spirit on us,
so that we may serve and witness,
even if it means our death,
both figuratively and literally.

But, in the end,
we can be sure that he watches over us,
that he will gather us together around him,
just as he gathered his apostles
and John and the prophets
and all the faithful who have died before us.

And then,
when we tell him what we have done in his name,
he will say to us,
just what he said to his apostles:
“Come away to a deserted place
all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:31a, NRSV). Amen.

Ut in Omnibus Glorificetur Deus.