Sermon Text, Head on a Platter:

I don’t know about other preachers.  But when I open up the lectionary to see the Sunday’s assigned texts, I love seeing colorful metaphors or stories.  Today, we’ve got a couple.

The first is a plumb line.  God sends the prophet Amos to the people Israel at a time in their history when the Lord thinks they are way off track.   So, God commissions Amos to take a plumb line as a visual challenge to the nation to get re-aligned God’s vision of who they should and could be.  Those of you have built anything probably used a type of plumb line, to ensure all is balanced for longevity and strength.

Anyone here play the game Jenga?   That’s an exercise in dis-alignment, right?  Every time a player takes a peg out, the plumb line deteriorates.  Until it’s like the foolish man building on the sand.  And the tower comes tumbling down.  Same for Israel.  One poor ruler here, a moral compromise there.  Before you know it, Israel is off the mark and God uses the prophets to call them to recalibrate.

Let me ask: what are the plumb lines that work for you?  When I’m hanging up pictures, this level is terrific.   In a few days, swimmers going for Olympic gold will rely on the plumb line on the bottom of the pool.   Liz Bunker, Carol Axford and others do triathlons which includes lake swimming.  We wish lakes had the floating plumb lane lines to keep us swimming straight, right?

Last week serving at Camp Luther, conversation turned to old camp programs.  We recalled the Underground Railroad, when LuAnne and I were on staff. Once the children were in bed, we took adults around to various stations via lamplight.  They were invited to play the roles of escaped slaves moving from the south to a station in Lake Erie that ferried them over to the freedom of Canada.  For slaves escaping, the North Star was that plumb line.  In a sky that changes, how critical to count on the reliability of Polaris.

For Christians, we rely on Jesus as the way, the truth, the life that will never let us down.  But let me ask you:  how do you take Jesus’ promises and teachings and hold them up to your life to ensure that you’ve got a good plumb line going?   After all, the Greek word for sin, hamartia, means missing the mark, off the mark, like in archery.   How cool that the gracious Jesus forgives us when we go astray, and calls us to daily re-align and re-calibrate to join him on his pathway of joy and life.

Well, let’s move to our gospel.   Mid-week I was talking with Ben McCumber, chair of the Call Committee. The team has been working hard and will present our final draft of the Ministry Site Profile, our “dating profile,” so to speak, for future pastoral candidates, to council for approval in a few days.  At the end of our conversation, I said, “Ben, you won’t believe it.  This Sunday I’ve got to preach on the decapitation of John the Baptist.  You got any good ideas?”    He took a minute and then responded, “not off the top of my head.”  Well played Ben!

Before we get into this, let me make a quick point.  Many American men aren’t engaged in church because they say it’s too boring.  Or that, from what they know, Jesus really isn’t a man’s man.  Such guys might be interested in this story from Mark.  For when Jesus hears that his cousin is executed because of challenging the system, what happens.  Is he intimidated or bullied into submission?   Jesus keeps going!  Jesus is a man who traveled Roman roads not just in Jerusalem, but all over the land.  Last June, up in Galilee, we saw the old Roman road markers on a hike we took. And anywhere along those roads, people could be crucified.   Theis means Jesus frequently saw the horrific penalty he would pay for continuing his ministry.  And Jesus does what?  He keeps going.   So, men today can reject Jesus.  But it cannot be for a lack of bravery, iron will, courage and fortitude to get the job done, whatever it takes.

Now, let me pivot to the folks who complain the Bible is boring.  Maybe some parts, but holy cow not Mark 6.   In an evening of feasting, drinking, politicking, schmoozing, and carousing Herod gets so intoxicated with “whatever” that he tells his dancing step-daughter her wish is his command.   Consulting with her mother and Herod’s latest wife, the reply comes:  the head of John and Baptist.

Gospel writer Mark provides the background which historians round out a bit.  This Herod Antipas had divorced his first wife (who is now twisting in the wind in that patriarchal culture) in order to marry Herodias, who at the time was the wife his brother, also called Herod.  And John the Baptist, apparently, who we know as God’s prophet calling the people to repentance, sees it as part of his mission to call out not only his religious colleagues, but all who live in his geographical community, including—maybe especially—its leaders.

What do you make of that?  Hmm.   I’m proud that my niece, Kate, is now in her 3^rd full week of formation at West Point.   She joins my nephew, her older brother, Jack, a 3^rd year.   In my family we’ve discussed before the Cadet Code of Conduct at our United States Military Academy, which states, "A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do."   (Repeat)

May God bless not only my niece and nephew, but ALL of us as we prayerfully discern how to apply those kinds of codes for our own lives in our 2024 culture.   Way before the West Point Code was ever conceived, John the Baptist was living it.  Since John would not tolerate the immorality of his king, John called him out, and it cost him John life.   But I wonder if it cost Herod his soul.

In verse 20, we’re told that Herod “knew John to be a righteous and holy man.”  Herod enjoyed and valued listening to what John had to say.  Herod therefore “protected” John in his ministry.

But Herod gets stuck.  Showboating as the power-man at the party, he makes this ridiculous promise to a dancer in the heat of the moment.   Your wish is my command.  And the bluff is called:   John’s head on a platter—Herod’s wife did not like being called out.   And in order to save face, Herod bows to peer pressure and extinguishes a force he respects as holy, righteous, insightful, truthful, perplexing and appealing.

What if Herod is crumbling inside, anguished over silencing the only voice in his kingdom that had the guts to tell him the truth—on a variety of matters?

Who is that in your life?  The voice of truth—that is willing to lift you up but also dares to challenge you to return to and rejoice in the plumb line of God’s kingdom life?

Odometers are fun to watch flip.  One our cars just hit 90,000 miles.  And it’s sort of cool to see all those zero, zero, zeroes line up—and remember all the trips you took over the years to rack up all those miles.   God’s blessings to all of you, this summer, seeing odometers flipping for wedding anniversaries, years of sobriety, birthdays, years of schooling.  This Wednesday, in terms of being an ordained pastor, my odometer flips to 30 years.  And this week, I’ve been trying to tell God thank you for all the good times and just reflect a bit on the journey.

Yes, maybe there were some moments when I felt it was MY head that people wanted to see on the platter.  But overall, I’m grateful for people’s grace along the way.

A college buddy I talked to this week suggested I do an ESPN-like 30 for 30 project, trying to share how ministry and life has changed over 30 years.   A cool idea; maybe down the road.  But in terms of reflecting on 3 decades through the lens of this week’s gospel, I find my gratitude revolving around the idea of a voice.

Yes, Herod was able to silence John’s voice.    But John had successfully perked up the ears for another voice—the even richer, stronger, more promising voice of the Messiah.   What’s cool is that the story of John and Herod that we hear in Mark 6 is really a flashback to what happened earlier. And right after John’s voice is silenced what does Jesus do?  What did we hear last week?   He sends out disciples his followers throughout the land, so that it’s not just John’s solo voice, but a whole choir proclaiming to a weary world the hope, grace, and promise of Jesus.

I’m so grateful that Jesus trusted me with being a voice, to a certain extent, to sing his song of joy and life these last 30 years.  But even more meaningful to me, are YOUR voices—voices that also have been commissioned by Jesus to sing, profess, question, inspire, comfort along the way.

• I’m grateful for the voices of pastors throughout my first summer at Camp Luther as a college kid who took me aside to speak into me and encouraged me to consider the vocation and journey of ministry.
• I’m grateful for the voices of those asking really hard and honest questions, like those I heard on the roof parties of my fraternity house. Wrestling with the meaning of God and life, but not considering the church relevant, such friends inspired me to wonder if the world needed another pastor more than other professions that I would’ve had fun pursuing.
• I’m grateful for the voices over the years of kids in church nurseries, Vacation Bible Schools, Sunday Schools, musicals and eventually confirmation classes. In my own confirmation class, I was grateful for the voice of Jesus in the life verse I had to memorize, John 8:  if you continue in my word, you are truly my disciple and you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.  (Those of you going to the Youth Gathering, keep your ears open. You might hear your life verse this week!)  Continuingto listen—and wrestling with-- Jesus’ voice with you, and all my friends you represent, has brought so much richness to my life.
• I’m grateful for voices, believe it or not, of those speaking within church councils, finance committees, property crews and all the teams that aren’t necessary glamorous but critical to the robust projection of Jesus’ voice in the world.
• I’m grateful for voices I’ve heard who speak differently than us in Haiti, East Germany, and other lands. For voices that vocalize different policies and politics but are unified in Jesus.   Voices that teach, gather, serve, laugh and sing.

I appreciate the voices like Paul in our Ephesians text today who reminds us while there’s joy in plumb-like lifestyles, with Christ life is even richer!   It’s about celebrating together that we are

• God’s children through Jesus Christ, v 5
• Who have had grace lavished on us, v 8
• and, with hope on Christ, live for praise of his glory, v 12

It’s tragic that Herod caved to peer pressure.  Listening to dead end voices pressuring him to silence the voice that his heart knew was full of truth. 

May the Spirit keep giving us, the church, the wisdom and strength to tune our ears to the one voice that makes all the difference in this world.  Let us be grateful for Jesus’ voice and all our brothers and sisters the Lord has given us as part of the choir. For the songs we’ve been able to sing together throughout the past, and those awaiting us in the future, we give Jesus’ thanks and praise! 

In Jesus’ name, Amen.