The More Things Change...

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday July 12, 2009, the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Old expressions are a dime a dozen, so they say. What I like about them is that because of the associations we make with old expressions, because of our history and our culture, just a few words become greater than the sum of their parts, if you know what I mean. Consider this from a book I’m reading right now:

Gradually, the whole horrible truth about the war is being revealed. Every new book destroys some further illusion. How can we ever again believe anything when we compare the solemn pretensions of statesmen with the cynically conceived contest for power between two great alliances of states in which the caprice of statesmen combined with basic economic conflicts to dictate the peculiar shuffled in a different way and the “fellowship in arms” will consist of different fellows.

So do you think this is from some new liberal take on the war in Iraq? Is this a passage from Scott McClellan’s Dick Cheney bashing “What Happened, Inside the Bush White House and Washington’s Culture of Deception?” I wouldn’t blame you if you thought it did. This paragraph comes from Reinhold Niebuhr’s “Leaves from the Notebook of a Tamed Cynic.”[1] Niebuhr wrote this passage in 1923 in response to what he saw as the missteps of political leaders after World War One. Or as the old saying goes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Of course, as I am trying to tell you that things don’t change much, I read one of the most unique texts in Mark’s gospel. This is the longest passage in Mark not immediately focused on Jesus. Fifteen verses with nary a mention of Jesus; twelve full verses without him at all. Of course, this foreshadowing is a part of my point.

The powerless are at the mercy of the powerful. A prophet singing a song of repentance is taken by a government official and sentenced to death. The official doesn’t really want to kill the prophet. Sure, the prophet is a pain, but the official knows that the prophet is righteous and holy. The government man is perplexed by the prophet; he may even ask the prophet “What is truth?”

In the end of the story, the leader is moved by circumstances to do what he really doesn’t want to do. He does it to save face. He offers alternatives to death; but this won’t save the prophet’s life. After his death, the prophet’s disciples come and take the body and put it in a tomb.

The powerless are at the mercy of the powerful. So, who am I talking about, John or Jesus? I guess it’s true; the more things change…you know.

The parallels and foreshadowing between the stories of the lives and deaths of John and Jesus in scripture are there for all of us to see. There is even a flashback to the baptism of the Lord as in both places John calls for repentance.

So from a literary point of view, in this nearly Jesus-Free-Zone, there is enough of the Messiah to make a connection. If just talking about words were enough, this would be more than enough. But as followers of Christ, we must be about more than words.

There is one other element of this story, another parallel that we receive in this scripture; an attitude of the church toward power. But don’t expect this set of parallels to connect to the time of the gospel; this is a call for our time.

Here’s a story, tell me if it sounds familiar. A man, a great king, finds a woman who appeals to his, shall we say, baser instincts. He finds her so appealing that he gets rid of her husband and fathers a child. So, is this the story of David or Herod? Well, as a matter of fact it is. It’s either one and both. How’s that for ironic, two kings, one who knows God’s heart and the other who crucifies God. There’s a pendulum swing that is difficult to wrap our heads around, but still, it is found in our holiest of scriptures. There are some things about scripture we should never try to get used to and that’s certainly one.

But I promised you a more current list of scandals. Let’s begin with the most recent. South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford admitted during a press conference less than a month ago that he had traveled to Argentina to continue an extra-marital affair with an Argentinean woman. He then resigned as head of the Republican Governors Association. He’s still governor of South Carolina, but at least he no longer sits at the head of the table of Republican Governors.

Strangely enough, Governor Sanford isn’t even the first politician involved in a sex scandal with an Argentinean, that honor goes to the Honorable Wilbur Mills, the Democratic House Representative from, yes, you guessed it, Arkansas in the 1970’s. His dalliance was with a stripper named Fanne Foxe. Just to show the world what kind of people we are, Mills got reelected after the scandal, although he did later resign after he gave an intoxicated press conference from Foxe's burlesque house dressing room.

Lest you think I spent too much time on Governor Sanford, I have two more words: Bill Clinton. (Long pause, eyes turned to the left…) Yeah, that brings back some memories.

Sure, nobody killed the spouse of the apple of their eye, but let’s face it, powerful men have had trouble with their zippers long before the invention of the zipper. To say anything different denies both the witness of history and the nature of sin. But this passage is about more than sexual scandals, it is also about power and how it is exercised.

Herod’s relationship with John must have been very interesting. Scripture tells us that Herod liked to listen to John, but Herod’s choice of a wife, rubbed him the wrong way. Still he knew that John was a righteous and holy man. Herod also knew which way the political winds blew; he knew that the people, led by John’s disciples, would be upset if John were executed. John irritated Herod, but Herod still knew that killing John was not in his best interest.

It was his wife Herodias who had a grudge against John.

As powerful as Herod was, he still needed to court those who were also powerful to keep them happy. This is the reason for the State Dinner, er, banquet. Herod throws a huge banquet with entertainment, his dancing daughter. So enraptured with her dance, Herod promises her anything, anything up to half of his kingdom. A broad gesture to be sure. Just as surely, it was a gesture, hyperbole. He didn’t mean “take half,” but the offer impresses the company and after all, isn’t that the object of the banquet?

His daughter Herodias is no dummy though; she asks her mother what she should request. Mom asks for the removal of the thorn from her side. So Herodias asks for John’s head on a platter. I wonder if the platter was worth thirty pieces of silver. It would not only be a poetic foreshadowing of Jesus betrayal; but it would also be consistent with the ancient price of a hit.

Should Herod have made his offer to Herodias? No, but he was acting like a big shot, he was caught up in the moment. Could Herod have stopped this request? Not without looking weak; and that’s the last thing the lackeys need to see, their king acting weak. Herod had to save face.

Again, the powerless are at the mercy of the powerful. Yet, it is the powerful who are convicted by the words of the powerless. John was a prophet. John was the man in a hair shirt who looked more than a little crazy. Yet, there was something about John that made Herod take notice. That thing was the truth. That thing was the word of the Lord. That thing was a vision for a world greater than the earthly realm of power and State Dinners, er, banquets.

This is the real importance of today’s text. Yes, the powerless are at the mercy of the powerful, but in reality, it is the powerless who have the high ground over those with political and social authority. It is the church, not the state, which is called to be the beacon of light, God’s light, over creation. It is our call to seek out the injustices the world imposes on the poor and the weak and lift them so that they may know God’s peace.

William Sloane Coffin wrote: “‘Woe unto you, scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites!’ Jesus never hurt anyone, except deliberately. He hurt them only because he loved them, and wanted to save them rather than please them. And in true prophetic fashion, he attacked none more than the nation’s leaders because their one-sided righteousness was the source of such blindness to themselves and the source of such suffering to others.”[2]

Jesus called on the leaders of the land to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. John did the same thing with Herod. Mother Teresa did this for any world leader who would take the time to listen. The church is called to continue this role in the world. It is our duty not to please the world but to do God’s work in it.

The Church is called to be the eyes and hands of God to hold the powerful to account for the injustices against the poor. It is our call to do that which is dangerous, that which is perilous. Herod and Pilate are out there and they want nothing more than the way things are now. They are comfortable in their places. We are called as the Body of Christ to seek justice for those who are oppressed in a world gone mad.

Coffin also asked, “Why is goodness forever on the scaffold, wrong upon the throne? Because what human beings seem most to fear is not the evil in themselves, but the good—the good being so demanding. Never would we have crucified Christ, the best among us, had we not first crucified the best within us. But never mind! Don’t follow the crowd. Follow Christ, cross and all.”[3]

Anyone who says it is not the role of the church to be critical of the government is sorely mistaken. Anyone who says the role of the church is to stay within its walls and seek piety for the sake of the body is sorely mistaken. Anyone who says we do nothing is mistaken, but anyone who says we do enough is also mistaken. Anyone who says I am only speaking to this part of the Body of Christ is mistaken and anyone who says I am speaking to a generic church is also mistaken. Seek God’s justice; this is the clarion call to us as a body, and us as followers of Christ, cross and all.

Since the Watergate scandal of 1972, there have been over 100 scandals that have been given the suffix “–gate.”[4] From Bill Clinton’s “Troopergate” to Elliot Spitzer’s “Troopergate” to Sarah Palin’s “Troopergate;” founded and unfounded, scandal is a part of the American political landscape. And political scandal is as old as the hills, as old as Herod. The more things change…

And it is the will of the Lord that the Body of Christ on Earth continues to seek justice for those who face injustice. It’s not easy, it is not without danger. The example of John proves this; the example of Jesus proves this. But it is their example that shows us the value of their sacrifice; and ours.

Jesus may not have been the immediate focus of this passage, but his fingerprints are all over it.

[1] Niebuhr, Reinhold, “Leaves from the notebook of a tamed cynic.” New York: Da Capo Press, 1929, page 42
[2] Coffin, William Sloane, The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, The Riverside Years, Volume 1. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, pages 403-404.
[3] Ibid, page 408.
[4] Wikipedia, List of Scandals with –gate suffix, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_scandals_with_%22-gate%22_suffix, retrieved July 11, 2009.