New Thoughts (10/19/12-10/21/12)
Herod is a rather interesting study, but not so much because of his political life or even his propensities. He is interesting as a study of religion. That may seem an odd statement to make, for the man seems for the most part wholly irreligious. True. And yet… And yet, I would suggest to you that his example is recorded for us in Scripture as a warning, lest we discover ourselves to be not so very different from him.
Let me start with a bit of history. Herod came of a line of local royalty, and one with greater aspirations. We learn that their general ethnicity was Idumean. That may not mean much to us. But, understand that the Idumeans were the same group previously called the Edomites, and maybe something starts to register. Or, maybe it’s only my recent visit with the prophet Amos. But, this is something important to understand. Here were the age-old enemies of Israel seated on the thrones of Israel. How can this be? Well, interestingly enough it starts with one of Israel’s heroes, John Hyrcanus, winning a decisive victory over Idumea, subjugating them to the Israeli nation and, as part of this subjugation, bringing them into the Jewish faith. Hold onto that point. The Idumeans had been ‘made’ Jews by faith. That is to say, their religious practices had been caused to conform to Jewish norms. It is not to say that their practices necessarily reflected a real piety. But, there was a reputation of sorts. There was an acknowledgment of their becoming fellow believers.
As far as the Herods were concerned, whatever may have held for others in their nation, this religion business was not really a matter for faith. It was a tool of the state. They would perhaps have nodded to hear the old Marxist adage that religion is the opiate of the masses. Yes, they would nod, a very useful thing indeed for managing those masses.
I could think of a few lessons we might draw from this political aspect of the situation. One could find a warning for our own tendency, as a nation, for assimilation. We could certainly find cause to be wary of those whose religious practice hints at a familiarity with our own. There’s a reason we say that looks can be deceiving. There’s a reason why God looks to what’s inside, what’s in the heart of the man. In the case of Herod Antipas, that which was in the heart of the man was, in large part, evident in his practice.
There was something there. There was something that could almost be mistaken for faith. In our modern day fashion, we would probably deem this one a seeker and be trying to find a way to make our brand of religion relevant to him. We would be wrong to do so, but it is a very probable response. To be sure, there are signs of a certain curiosity in Herod. Consider his response to John the Baptist. This was a bit of a mixed bag. True, he did not particularly care for the public rebuke for his sins. He’s a king, after all. Can’t be letting the peons get away with this kind of disrespect. So, he had John arrested. Yet, he seemed to sense something about John. The power of the prophet, perhaps, or maybe he was simply impressed by having somebody who spoke to him without fear and without all those layers of political motivation to cut through.
Something drew him. So, he would go down and talk with John, there in the prison. Or maybe he just listened. He was hearing about God and the necessity of repentance. No, that is not written anywhere that I recall, but this is John! His message hadn’t changed just because his circumstance had. How could it? He spoke as God gave him utterance, for he was a prophet and the last of that prophetic order. Something in his words demanded attention. Something in the urgency of his message stirred the heart. At the very least, it maybe made one a bit curious as to what sort of faith could cause a man to be so single-minded as John was.
However, as we well know, whatever curiosity Herod was experiencing, it was insufficient to prevent him from having John killed in the end. Pride and the need to keep appearances eventually overwhelmed curiosity and respect. John was slain. Then came news of some new force in the land, another prophet who was not only delivering a very similar message, but was also reported to be performing all sorts of miracles. Who could explain this? Well, reports of theories people held were coming to the palace. They say this new man is John come back from the dead and wielding supernatural powers. To us, it sounds like a campfire tale intended to do no more than send shivers up the spine. And for Herod, that’s pretty much what it achieved. Yet, even this exceeded his capacity, because, it seems he was more inclined towards the Sadducees perspective on spirit-life, which is to say, there isn’t any. But, here’s the thing: Herod was superstitious. He wasn’t buying this John reborn thing, but what if? What if the reports of His power are even close to accurate? Is it worth the risk to bring this Man in?
Now, so far as I can discern, he had no particular cause to bring Jesus in beyond his own curiosity. He was hearing things about Jesus and wished to see them for himself. He couldn’t very well just send out a dinner invitation. That would never do. But, neither dared he to simply send out the soldiers to round Him up. The general suggestion is that it was not so much a political consideration of things as it was superstition the kept him from doing anything more direct about Jesus. When the Pharisees made their opposition to the Man clear, he found it well enough to quietly aid them, even if that aid was little more than not hindering. Recall, if you will, the comment regarding how the Pharisees made common cause with the Herodians against Jesus. Don’t suppose Herod was unaware.
Setting this aside, Herod had some good reason for being superstitious. Consider why John had been denouncing him in the first place. He, a purported member of the Jewish faith, had stolen his brother’s wife, had married his own niece. This just is not done! It’s an offense against God, let alone his original bride’s father. Yes, and his original bride’s father, being a king himself, had let his anger be felt most forcibly, not just by Herod, but by the region he ruled. Herod might have written that off as no more than human retribution. But, given the message from John, given the sessions with John down in the cellars there, and given the generally superstitious nature of the Roman culture he had largely adopted, it would hardly surprise to learn that he found some greater significance to the military loss he experienced by that angry father-in-law. Things had been going downhill for him. And, by the way, things would continue going downhill for him, although one doesn’t get that sense from this scene at the trial of Jesus. But, one lesson we could draw from Herod is very simply this: God will not be mocked.
Neither will he accommodate himself to curiosity, to seekers of novelty. This is, in my assessment, the chief warning to be taken from the life of Herod. Herod was curious. He was a seeker, as we would fashion him. Oh! He’s so close to the kingdom. We just need to entice him to take that first step, to repeat the prayer, raise his hand before the crowds as a sign of accepting Jesus. What, oh what can we do to make it more comfortable for him? How can we get him over that finish line? But, the fact of the matter is his curiosity is not as to how he might know God, or how he might find atonement for his sins. His curiosity is after novelty and entertainment. If this guy’s a miracle worker, I want to see him do his stuff!
If You are God, then… How often we demand of God that He prove Himself to us! And it may even be that on occasion He’s willing to give us the proofs we need. I think, for example, of the sign given Hezekiah in his time of doubt, or of the game Gideon was playing with his fleece. But, if He deigns to offer proofs, it is for His purposes not for our amusement. Look around the modern Christian scene, and ask yourself just why it is all these places where revival has broken out, at least according to the Charismatic understanding of the term, have become veritable pilgrimage destinations. Oh! Look what’s happening in Florida! They come to church and gold fillings appear in their teeth! I want to see that. I want some. Oh, look! Feathers falling on the pulpit over here. I want feathers to fall on me. But, what has any of this to do with being Godly? With putting to death the sins of the flesh? Honestly, it has far more to do with feeding the flesh. It’s Christian sightseeing. It’s church for the entertainment addict. But, it does nothing to deal with the addiction and it does nothing for the soul. Sorry. It just doesn’t.
We need to understand the clear message of the Gospel: Curiosity and sign-seeking are not markers of sincere faith. There is a chance that they may accompany a sincere faith, but they are certainly no evidence of that faith. Yes, Jesus performed miracles. Yes, the crowds were attracted to Him because of His propensity for healing and exorcism. But, they were not His point. They were not, from His perspective, the primary purpose. The primary purpose was preaching the Gospel, announcing the good news that real repentance and real forgiveness was being made possible by God’s own design. Indeed, Herod was hardly the first to insist that Jesus perform some sign for his benefit. The Pharisees had played that same game. “Teacher, we would see some sign from You” (Mt 12:38). Jesus had no more time for their demands than for Herod’s.
The reality of Herod’s seeming seed of faith is demonstrated in this passage. Oh! How glad he was to see Jesus! Been wanting to meet Him for a long time, and now he was finally getting his chance. Surely, given the circumstances, this Jesus will do one of His little miracles for us, prove His claims for us in His effort to be freed. We’ll have some fine entertainment, and be the envy of all our friends. But, Jesus answered nothing, offered nothing, did nothing. All that curiosity, all that apparent seeking became sour disappointment. Why? Because it was never faith. It was never the earnest seeking that we see in the broken sinners come to Jesus. There was never a question of, “what must I do to be saved?” There was only, “entertain me.” And, when Jesus refused to entertain, Herod reverted to form. As before, sin won out in the man, even here in the presence of Holiness. You won’t answer my demands? Then I shall have my entertainment from You by other means.
Herod, in the second half of this interview, is not so very different from a jilted lover, or a spoiled child refused a toy. You won’t make me happy? Then I’ll make you miserable. You refuse me? I shall make you rue the day! So, they treated Jesus with contempt, let Him know in no uncertain terms that they thought Him nothing and less than nothing. They mocked Him, and to be sure, the mockery these soldiers were capable of was cruel indeed. You? A king? It’s laughable on the face of it. What, You suppose this silence makes you appear somehow regal? Buddy, You’ve never been to Rome. Apparently, You’ve never even been up to Herod’s place of a weekend. But, You want to play king, we’ll play. Here. Here’s Your robe. Let us put it on You. Oh, yes! You look far more regal now. I know! I know! Let’s hold a parade for the king of these Jews. We can hold a procession back to Pilate’s place. It’ll be a lark.
And Herod, Luke tells us, was right there with them in all of this. It wasn’t just the soldiers toying with their prisoner. It was Herod and his soldiers. The curiosity seeker had been disappointed in his seeking, and this left him angry in his disappointment. He would have his revenge. He had the power, after all. This man, for all he had heard, was clearly powerless. What is power for, if not to have fun? So, fun he would have, and this man’s life was as nothing to him.
Herod, it is said, preferred his sin. In spite of the surprising grace shown to him, to have the likes of John preaching life to him even as John awaited death, to have the unsurpassable privilege of being in the room with Life Himself, and yet to destroy both. Yes, he preferred his sin, and he was granted his preference. And the wages of that sin eventually were paid in full.
But, Jesus remained silent. Jesus had no interest in satisfying idle curiosities. That still holds today. That is something that ought to bring us to a place of introspection. Is my faith a show or a reality? Am I any more earnest in declaring Him my King? Am I demanding signs, waiting to see Him perform? Are there those things that I insist He must do else what faith I claim shall be denounced? This is an exploration that I shall hold for the morrow. But, God willing, I shall not seek to sidestep the questions.
I am most concerned about my acceptance of His Lordship. That my faith is real I find to be beyond doubt. That it is entirely as it should be I find impossible not to doubt. One key to that discrepancy is the matter of lordship. It’s all very well to call Him Lord. Many will. Many do. But, does that word have meaning to me? Does it mean any more to me than it does to call my neighbor, ‘sir’? Is it just a polite form of address or is it a real confession of a real relationship? He is my King. That much holds whether I choose to accept it in all its implications or not. He is your King, as well, and it matters not whether you count yourself a believer.
If, then, He is King, and I, as the Apostles before me, count myself His servant, certain things ought to follow from that. His command ought not to strike me as a suggestion but as a matter for immediate and full compliance. If I am His servant and He instructs me to go here and do this, then there ought be no question but that I shall indeed go and do. But, do I? Truth be told, no. Oh, there are times. There are activities that I would ascribe to His instruction. But, it’s not a one hundred percent record. No. There are other things that I do in spite of clear instruction to the contrary. There are other things that I refrain from doing in spite of the clear demand of Scripture.
Go make disciples. Go plant seed. But, Lord, I’m more of a waterer I think. Not real big on challenging new ground. That’s not my strong suit. I’m like Moses there at his commissioning. Surely, You want somebody else for this part, God. I’m hardly the one to be doing that sort of thing. But, I’ve not noticed God being particularly concerned with our strong suits or our weak spots. Indeed, He shows a certain propensity for sending the weak for the specific purpose of ensuring that His own majesty is in view and not their petty pride. I should learn from this.
Jesus, I need to repent of this tendency to seek my own way and call it Yours. I have prayed often enough in these times together for a bit more spiritual backbone, a greater willingness to take chances for Your name’s sake. Yes, and the years across which I have spoken with You of my pride are becoming harder to count. I find in these questions, my Savior, great cause for concern. You issued the warning loud and clear. Many will call You, ‘Lord’, yet come to the end having never known You. I do not wish to be found in their number, Holy One. I desire greatly that my calling You my Lord and King would be more than empty words that just look nice on the page. I desire that You truly be my Lord and King and that I, much to my own amazement, should find myself Your true servant. I know not how to arrive at this except to set myself wholly at Your feet, wholly dependent upon Your work within me. And this, I cannot say I know how to do. I don’t suppose it’s really something I can do. I can only trust that You will do it in me, in accordance with Your word and Your will. So be it. Lord, come.
There remains one last comment I want to pursue here. Amongst the verses listed as paralleling this passage, we are referred to Psalm 2:2 – “The kings of the earth take their stand, counseling together against the Lord and His Anointed.” This is brought up as a comment upon the friendship that suddenly blossomed between Herod and Pilate as they joined in the destruction of Jesus. I have to admit that I had not thought of the Psalm in regard to this point, always seeing in it something yet future. In light of the preceding introspective thoughts, though, I think I need to see the verse neither as it applies to this point in the past, nor as it may apply to some end time event yet to come. I need to see it in the present, in my present.
Here is the thought that is on my mind this morning. Peter would later write of us that we are to be a royal priesthood (1Pe 2:9), or we might say a theocratic governing body. He is our King, and that is the end of it, so far as final authority (or originating Authority) is concerned. Yet, we are kings ourselves. Face it, we think like that in our own minds anyway, at least the men among us. We are the king of our household. We prefer to be the king of our office, or whatever little domain over which we may hold sway. Well, there is that matter of two cities, yes? There is the city of God and the city of Man. In which of these have we set up our kingdom? Are we kings of that holy nation God has established, or are we kings of the earth?
This is one of those deals where there is no neutral ground. There is no fence upon which to sit. There is only the one answer or the other. We are either joined with He Whose name is Righteous and True, or we are joined with those kings of the earth who counsel together against Him. I suspect that any honest assessment must find that our allegiances shift more rapidly than the waves upon the shore. We are one moment all for Him and the next acting to oppose Him. We are like Peter that night. “You are the Son of God!” Oh, but You’re absolutely mistaken about what You just said! One minute inspired by the Holy Spirit, the next heeding the muttered insinuations of Satan. Sadly, this is our story and this is our song. Much as we would like to think we are praising our Savior all the day long, we know better. We should be, we know that. But, we fail. Daily. Sometimes hourly. How great is our need, then, for this One Who saves us? Even as we take upon ourselves the mantle of this royal priesthood, how desperate our situation remains. If God is for us, who can be against us, yes! But, if not for God, what possible chance, what possible hope, have we? As Paul proclaimed so boldly, “in Him we live, and move, and have being.” In Him is all my righteousness, and apart from Him I can do nothing. I am nothing. Let me just have this much, then: that I am not found giving or receiving counsel against Him. That is, perhaps, the best I can manage. And even that, I suspect, can only be managed by His Providence.
