What would it take?

Herod had a dinner. It didn't end well.

The gospel of Mark (and Matthew) tells how Herod, a minor client king of the Romans, had a birthday party at which he persuaded his wife's daughter to dance for him by promising her anything she desired. She dances and her mother tells her to ask for "the head of John the Baptist on a platter." Herod reluctantly grants her wish. Herod had arrested John because he was publicly critical of the king marrying his brother's wife, Herodias. But Herod regarded John as a prophet and didn’t want to kill him. Herodias wanted him dead.

I suppose you could argue that someone got their way and went away happy. But revenge doesn't bring happiness. This is a story about power over others, power to manipulate and control, hurt and destroy. That kind of power is potent and seductive and altogether too familiar in the news, in our entertainment, in our day to day lives and, sadly, becoming more prominent in the rhetoric of politicians.

There's no likeable characters in this story, no sympathetic ones, no positive message. If you’re interested in the Herodian family, look them up. They make Game of Thrones look like a soap opera. And John wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. He certainly spoke his mind. That’s what prophets do, and it can be very discomfiting. Speaking truth to power has a price in this story.

I believe that, from the very beginning, our “factory setting” is good, but we have freewill and choice and we’ve established pretty clearly that we’re more than capable of choosing something else. The power to kill over the power to give life; the power to destroy over the power to create; the power to hurt over the power of compassion; the power of hate over the power of love. We frequently chose "power over" rather than "power with."

So here’s a story in which that is concentrated. Herod only has power because it is allowed him by the Romans who have power by force and oppression. Herod extends that oppression and cruelty to his own people and throws in a dash of excess when it comes to his own lifestyle. And yet, he is not the one with power here. It's Herodias and her seductive daughter, and they abuse the celebratory moment by taking a life out of vengeance. Like it’s an everyday thing.

Mark’s gospel moves on from here to the miracle story of Jesus feeding the multitude of people who’ve come to hear him speak. Five loaves and two fish, blessed by Jesus, is all it takes to feed the crowd.

Jesus may have done something miraculous with the loaves and fishes. Or, it certainly would be a miracle that an initial act of sharing inspired so many others to find that they had something they could share and, more importantly, that they did share. All were fed and went away satisfied because so many were willing to look beyond themselves to the good of all. That’s a miracle.

So why is the brutal execution of someone speaking truth to power not so shocking and the feeding of a crowd of hungry people a miracle? 

What would it take for us to find the second story less a miracle and more a reality? How can we make the forces of oppression, the selfishness of all the Herods and the ruthless hatefulness of all the Herodiases an aberration, rather than an everyday norm?  What would it take for us to find our way back to the good, "the image of God," which is the root of our creation? What would it take? Jesus has a way: it would take love.