I am not entirely sure how this is possible, but...in all the years I've been preaching, I have NEVER preached on the beheading of John the Baptist. Now, it's possible when it rolled around in the lectionary, I thought, "Hmmm... there are other options to preach on which are a bit more uplifting, so why don't I just go with one of them."

But, this year I could not resist. I mean, the irony was just too great! John the Baptist's head on a platter on the same weekend we are having Chris Schaefer's going away party?! Perfection. I promise, Chris, no beheadings...

However, in all seriousness, this story which is filled grisly realities, manipulation and horror is well timed. It's not that different from what is going on in today's world.

But before we get into today, we need to talk about yesterday. Before we get into now, we need to talk about then.

The Bible assumes we are able to link all the innuendos and subtleties in this story, but unless we do the work of finding out what's happened to get us to this point, we basically end up with whiplash as we are confronted with people saying, "John is back from the dead."

"Dead!!?? John is dead? I didn't even know he was sick! What in the world happened!?"

And then Mark seems to realize he left out a little detail along the way and launches into this grim narrative... For what point? Not only is there very little good news in this birthday party gone awry, but the story sounds like an excerpt from a Jerry Springer show.

As just a quick overview, Herod Antipas fell in love with his brother's wife, Herodias (who was also his niece). Herodias agreed to marry Herod as long as he divorced his wife Phasaelis.

Are you with me so far?

When Herod married Herodias, John the Baptist openly criticized the marriage as incestuous... I can't image why. So, Herod, to save face, had John thrown in prison.

Safe from the criticism of John and feeling fully in power and control, Herod throws himself a grand birthday party. The birthday party gets a tad out of control as Herodias' daughter (which is technically not only Herod's grandniece but also his step-daughter) dances for him and all the men at the party. To put it mildly, this was not the type of dance you find at the 7th grade sock-hop; she's the evening entertainment.

Well, it was obviously some dance, because now Herod is ready to give his step-daughter ANYTHING she desires. Herodias - the mom of the daughter and the wife of Antipas - basically pimps her daughter out and tells her to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter as her payment.

Ok... and people think the Bible is boring.

This isn't the darkest moment in the Gospels - the crucifixion of Jesus probably is - but I'd argue this is a close second. Flat out murder for political, sexual, and personal gain.  

As I think through the turmoil of this past year, I could name other dark moments in the history of humanity.

The murders in Charleston over race are probably the most obvious recent example.

I don't know if any of you read the 'manifesto' the accused killer wrote, but I did. Throughout it he names group after group he despises based on biases and stereotypes; he also outlines how he believes his rights and privileges have been infringed upon.

The manifesto displays a distorted air of bravery, as the accused killer states in his document: "Someone has to have the bravery to take it to the real world, and I guess that has to be me."

I know the accused killer wouldn't agree with me, and Herod Antipas and his family probably wouldn't either... But they haven't done anything brave. They've both acted in fear.

Each of these are narratives on how intimately fear and injustice are related. Writ large through both is how very, very far fear can twist the hearts of humanity.

Both of them fear those who are different.

Fear losing control.

Fear losing power.

Fear change.

And even fear love.

It's not just John that's killed, but it's love that was and is being beheaded in our very midst today.

I don't know about you, but what I most want to do when faced with the gruesome realities of the world is cover my head with a blanket. That's how I watch the 'Walking Dead' - with a blanket over my head, peering through the tiny openings in the yarn loops, and excuse myself for the bathroom or a snack when it gets too intense.

Sure, the 'Walking Dead' is make believe, but that's how I deal with fear. I don't write manifestos or lash out, but I do want to hide or at least pretend like it's not going on. Not because I don't care, but because it's hard to believe there's a 'plan' with all the crap that goes on in the world.  

Maybe on some level that's why I've not preached on the beheading of John the Baptist before.

Where is the good news? Not just in the beheading of John the Baptist or the murders of Charleston, but in all those inexplicable moments, both small and large, where fear, pain, and injustice seem to have the upper hand?

Did you notice that Jesus doesn't even make an appearance in this Gospel text? He's not seen from or heard from. Jesus seems oddly absent.

Why would I want to talk about this?

We may not want to talk about it, or it even to be so, but we are still served or serve heaping helpings of pain, injustice, and hate.

As bewildering as it is that Mark included this shocking story in his Gospel, somehow he must've known that we would face the same predicament. Love beheaded all over again.

Something has to break into this world of ours. Something has to snap these destructive cycles. Something has to narrate a different story.

I mean... right?

What we do know is that this story of John is not the whole story.

It's tragic and painful and terrible. But it is not the whole story.

Jesus came to show there is something more, something beyond the tragedy of Herod.

What we are promised is that this story of Charleston is not the whole story.

It's tragic and painful and terrible. But it is not the whole story.

Jesus comes to show us there will be something more, something beyond the horror of Charleston.

Now, I truly believe that love always wins, pain gives way to joy, and life will always rise up from the ashes. That is the promise of the resurrection.

But let us not diminish the pain of the resurrection process by too quickly saying, "John will be raised from the dead. Justice will be served in Charleston. Or all will work out in the end."

Those all may be true. But 'resurrection work' is not easy.

To me, that is the extraordinary value of this piece being in the Bible.

Jesus doesn't offer a quick fix.

Not like with Lazarus, or the healing of the young girl, or making the lame walk.

I don't know exactly what Jesus did following the death of John; the Bible just jumps to the Feeding of the 5000. Maybe the writer of Mark knows, but I'm betting looking back Elizabeth and Zechariah could tell us what Jesus did and where he was; they could also tell us how painful 'resurrection work' is when Jesus' hand doesn't just alight on the dead and whisk the pain away.

I can't very well put words in the mouths of people long gone, but faith and experience tell me that I do not have the ability to manufacture hope on my own. On our own we seem able to self-destruct, demoralize others, and decapitate love.

But hope is something that quietly moves in, settles in our hearts, and whispers to us, "Fear doesn't have the last word. This is not the end of the story."

Hope is a resurrection thing. Not a political statement or a moral standard or even a cliche platitude. Hope is something that exists only because God has promised us in Jesus that there is another ending - a good ending - being worked out. Even when we can't quite see it yet.

Maybe Jesus wasn't physically there the day John was beheaded, but that Herod knew grief and sorrow over his actions - that's hope for new life to begin. Resurrection work.

Maybe Jesus wasn't physically there the day Charleston died, but that people can be brave enough to have tough conversations about race and biases - that's hope for a new way to begin. Resurrection work.

Maybe Jesus wasn't physically there the day you thought you screwed up the one relationship that meant something to you, or the day you heard the word 'cancer,' or the day your child was deployed... but that it's actually NOT the end, even if it feels like the end, that's hope that life will rise up in you. Resurrection work.

And maybe Jesus isn't physically there in the famines, and droughts, and wars, but that we can continue to hope in spite of ourselves... Believing and working for it to actually be different; in essence telling fear and death and injustice to go to hell. Yeah, that's the brave work of the resurrection.

The story tells us, if we continue to follow it, that humanity does often try to behead love... And the story also promises us that humanity has never and will never be successful in that feat.   Amen.