Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost + July 14, 2024.
The following gospel is intended for mature audiences. Listener discretion is advised.
I should have read that warning before the gospel. Violence. Sex. Family dysfunction. Today’s gospel has it all. So does our world.
At the center is Herod, a cowardly leader, hanging on to power. John the Baptist calls Herod to account for an adulterous relationship. His so-called wife is not pleased. Though Herod is fascinated by John, he caves in to his daughter’s request to obtain the head of John the Baptist on a platter. What a gory and gruesome image!
I don’t know what kind of approval ratings Herod would have had in his day, but here’s how today’s commentators describe him: immoral, unprincipled, self-absorbed. Consumed with his own vanity. A powerful, shameless person who will do anything to protect his own interests. Even if it means snuffing out the life of a prophet—John the Baptist—someone who actually intrigued Herod.
Not unlike Hamlet’s uncle, Claudius, who after murdering his brother, cries out in agony, “Oh, my offense is rank!” Look at history. Look at literature. It is the human story. Weak, lustful, corruptible political leaders.
And in a fascinating coincidence, one of our members will be traveling to the Des Moines Metro Opera this week to see the opera Salome, by Strauss! It is based on the story in the gospels. Salome, the name given to Herodias’ daughter, is in love with John the Baptist. Her provocative “Dance of the Seven Veils” is not in the Bible, but makes the opera more sensational. Not to mention how she acts out her love for the severed head! That deserves another warning label!
Okay, but what are the takeaways for us, you ask.
First, acting out of fear causes great harm. One writer1 suggests that what we are witnessing in this year of political and humanitarian disasters is that fear—not money—is the root of all evil. Fear of losing control. Fear of losing supporters. Fear of humiliation. No wonder we hear over and over in scripture: “fear not, do not be afraid.”
And fear can lead to anger. It can cause us to “lose our head,” so to speak.
Fear leads to death, destruction, war, political violence like the events of last evening. Courage leads to life. John lived a life of grace and goodness, calling people to a higher purpose in their lives. The followers of John the Baptist are courageous. They come to obtain the body of their leader and to give it proper burial. Foreshadowing the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Second, life in today’s world should come with a warning label. Look at the strife, hatred, oppression. Look at the staggering number of innocents killed through war, violence, and natural disasters. Look at the problem of gun violence in our country. Look at the vastness of loss and grief. As we will sing later in the service, “sometimes our song is only weeping.”
Finally, we are called to speak truth to power. Amos proclaims that God will judge Israel for its mistreatment of the poor. And like most prophets, Amos becomes a threat to the powers that be. One writer puts it this way: “The truth will set you free, but first it will shatter the safe, sweet way you live.” (Sue Monk Kidd)
Plenty preachers face severe criticism for prophetic sermons that challenge the status quo. As one African American preacher pastor (William J. Barber) quipped, “Preachers don’t get to opt out of politics; we can be chaplains of Empire or we can be prophets of God.” I hope I don’t lose my head over that comment!
When I think of speaking truth to power, I think of Martin Luther King Jr. I just finished the recent biography, MLK: A Life by Jonathan Eig. Rather than the “bits and pieces” of quotes and movies like Selma and Rustin, it has been captivating to read of MLK’s life story from beginning to end. Among other things, the book brings out MLK’s very human side—his struggles and weaknesses.
The city of Chicago plays a major role in the story. And usually not very flattering. MLK had faced plenty death threats, a stabbing, and police harassment, but of the scenes of white rage in Chicago, he said: “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. I think the people of Mississippi ought to come to Chicago to learn how to hate.”
At first MLK seemed to be a national hero. But then he became outspoken against the Vietnam war. It was consistent with his biblical approach to nonviolence. And eventually King was not just fighting for the right to vote or for desegregation. He was striving for integration in the broadest sense—which meant the sharing of power. If all people were created in the image of God, they “out to come together regardless of race or nationality.”2
King certainly was a political figure, but he also was grounded in Christian love for all people. In 1957, addressing a crowd of demonstrators in Washington, he would demand, “give us the ballot.” But he warned against resentment and becoming bitter and hateful. In other words, “losing your head.” For then the new order would be nothing but a duplication of the old.
Yet in the years before his death, he became more radical, challenging America’s great wealth disparity and its endless wars, calling it a morally sick society. MLK was a threat to the status quo and was martyred for speaking truth to power. And in a decade with three tragic assassinations.
Jesus doesn’t appear at all in today’s gospel. Yet the preaching of both Jesus and John brings political risk. The kingdom of God challenges the status quo of wealth, status, power. But it comes with a warning: if you proclaim mercy, welcome all, and expose the truth, there will be consequences.
In Christ, the word of truth sets us free that we might speak truth to power. As we vote. As we advocate for peace and justice—as individuals, as a congregation, through One Northside, through the ELCA, through other channels.
Is there good news today? Using images from our Ephesians reading—in the midst of fear, loss, and a world consumed by power, Christ lavishes upon us grace and forgiveness. God gathers up all things in Christ, in whom we set our hope.
There’s a new day coming, that’s what we proclaim. Don’t lose your head. Speak out. Go to work. Acknowledge the violence, acknowledge the injustice, acknowledge the grief, acknowledge the unfairness. Put a warning label on it!
And then rise up against fear and cowardice. And then pray. And then sing: “faith of our forebears, holy faith. We will be true to you till death.”
1 Marilyn McEntryre, lectionary reflections in The Christian Century, July 2024.
2 Eig, Jonathan. King: A life. Kindle, loc. 8292.