Sermon: Something than Fear Should Be At The Center of Who We Are

King Herod heard of [the disciples’ preaching], 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.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

Mark 6:14-29

My sermon from the 8th Sunday after Pentecost (July 14, 2024) on Mark 6:14-29.

*****

So this week was pretty busy for the Marvel cinematic universe. There’s been a lot of chatter over the upcoming Deadpool & Wolverine movie as well as new trailers for the next Captain America movie and the first season of the show Agatha All Along. I’ll admit my nerd cred has dropped a bit since I haven’t been keeping up with Marvel like I used to. But it was fun to drink my morning coffee a few days ago and see what all the fans were talking about. One particular fan, though, wasn’t thrilled with some of the choices Marvel has made when it comes to their visual storytelling. This person took a few screenshots from the new trailers and the recent shows to show how they’re all filmed in the same way. Rather than using the entire rectangle that makes up the screen on our tvs, at movie theaters, or even on our phones to tell the story; everything has been condensed to the very middle of the screen. We no longer need to focus on the wider perspective to notice what might come next. All the action, the important visuals, and the emotions that make a show what it’s supposed to be – is at the center of it all. Marvel is doing this because they want to do more than simply show a story; they want other people to share it. And one of the best ways to do that is to have people craft their own videos on Instagram, TikTok, and other social media. The videos for those apps, however, are often square – limiting what can be seen. Marvel keeps everything in the center so that clips from the show are easier to share. On one level, that might make the story easier to follow along since we never have to turn our head. But if we’re not careful, we might not realize that what we see in the center isn’t the entirety of what that story is about. 

Mark is probably the version of Jesus’ life that works hardest to keep Jesus in every frame. It started its story when Jesus was already an adult and ended when Mary Magdalene and others fled from the tomb after discovering that his body was no longer there. It’s the other gospels that typically include events and stories where Jesus isn’t around – such as when an angel told Mary she was about to become pregnant. Mark, though, rarely does this and so when we find ourselves in a story where Jesus is out of the game, that’s an invitation for us to listen. This story, though, is pretty terrible – feeling like it fits better in a true crime podcast rather than in God’s holy words. It starts by introducing us to King Herod who was actually Herod Antipas, the son of the other King Herod we met when Jesus was a baby. Antipas, by the time Jesus’ ministry took place, had ruled over Galilee for decades after being installed as its governor by the Roman Empire. Antipas’ primary responsibility was to keep his overlords happy by providing the Romans with all the money and resources they wanted. This mandate gave Antipas a lot of leeway when it came to exercising power in his little region and so there was no one who would really complain if he threw a troublemaking preacher into prison. John had, over time, become a bit of a thorn in his side since he wasn’t a fan of how Antipas chose to use his power. Antipas’ recent marriage to his half-brother’s wife was just another act in a series of them that caused John to wonder why Antipas did what he did. Their confrontation grew and, as reported in Mark, it became something like a biblical version of the TV show Law and Order: SVU. There’s a lot of salacious details that easily grab our attention. But I wonder if there’s another detail, a little off to the side, that we should focus on instead. Mark, in general, doesn’t include many details in his writing since he wants us to move quickly from one thing to the next. Yet one detail that’s a bit easy to miss is one Mark kept repeating since he named, several times, Antipas’ fear. We’re told that he not only feared John but that he was also afraid of what others might think if he didn’t kill him. This wasn’t an attempt to reduce Antipas to some kind of easily manipulated person since he was a person who used power recklessly for his own self-preservation. It was, rather, Mark’s way of answering John’s question about what was at the center of all he said and did. To Mark, Antipas wasn’t merely an evil ruler that we can look at from the sidelines and be glad we’re not like him. Antipas was, rather, a coward who chose to let fear  – the fear of losing power, of losing control, and the fear of losing his reputation – as the central motivating power that shaped who he was. 

Now fear is a very human emotion that we don’t always name. It’s a word we might say when we’re being honest about why we don’t want to see a scary movie but one we won’t say when describing why we interact with some people differently than we do with others. Our culture, I think, doesn’t really know what to do with fear which is why we mask our fear with all kinds of insecurities, anxieties, conspiracies, and a hyper-fixation on violence as an answer to everything. Our inability to process fear in life giving ways is a bit strange since so much of our scripture identifies as an aspect of faith as having a robust fear of God. Yet we choose to make fear into a bad thing unless it’s something we can regularly wield over others. I wonder if one of the reasons why we struggle with fear is because we don’t know how to properly explore it. We don’t have the questions we need to be honest about what it means to be afraid. One of those questions that might be helpful was put together by Professor Marily Mcentyre who saw what Antipas was up to and wanted to ask him: “what are you protecting?” The answer to that question wouldn’t be what he thought he was protecting; it would be honest, authentic, and faithful so that he could see how his power, prestige, and vanity was what he cared for the most. He was a coward not because he was sometimes afraid; what made him a coward was his unwillingness to examine how fear was at the center of everything that made him who he was. And when we keep that part of his story central to what it’s about, it invites us to wonder what’s at the center of us too. If we took all the scenes of our life and put what mattered to us the most in the middle, would we really want to see what’s on that screen? Would we want to notice the hurt, anger, frustration, or fear that we acted out of while not even fully realizing how that was already there? It’s a scene that, if we’re honest, might scare us since we know how human we truly are. But it’s also why we were brought into the One who made us, our needs, our brokenness, and all our fears, the center of everything he said and did too. When you were baptized and gifted with faith, God didn’t choose you because you’ve never been afraid. Rather, Jesus claimed you so that you could discover how his life could be at the center of yours too. Our fears do not have to be the primary motivating force that defines how we act in our homes, schools, workplace, or even our nation. Rather, we can ask ourselves a more faithful question about what we’re called to protect. It’s a question that isn’t always easy to answer especially when there are those who are choosing violence to grow our fears rather than quell them. Yet it is a question we can live out by reflecting on the fullness of what Jesus did. It’s a way of life that doesn’t mean we’ll never be afraid. But it chooses to trust that even when we can’t see Jesus in the middle of it all, he is already here – with a divine love that each one of us can share. 

Amen.