Singing Even When Your Head Gets Chopped Off
This sermon was preached for the Martyrdom of St. John the Baptist at Immanuel Lutheran Church in Charlotte, Iowa.
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Who else but the Church could rejoice on the day of a martyrdom? Who else could confidently call an execution a feast and sing praise to God? Well, the Church always sings. And her song is a song of Truth. It is a song learned by hearing the Word of Truth from her Lord’s lips and echoing that Truth back to Him. It is a song raised above every lie born in the darkness of men’s hearts. It is a song of forgiveness and victory in the Lord’s death and resurrection.
Still, on the face of it, the martyrdom of John the Baptist doesn’t look anything like victory. It is a dark and sordid tragedy. It begins and ends with the bad conscience of Herod Antipas, who was the son of the King Herod who slaughtered all the baby boys in Bethlehem in his failed attempt to kill the newborn Messiah. So, like father like son.
Young Herod is king now over Galilee. His brother Philip is a neighboring ruler. And Philip has this beautiful wife named Herodias, who also happened to be his niece. And she has a daughter from a previous marriage named Salome. And the story begins when John is ramping up his preaching in the wilderness: Repent! Prepare the way of the Lord!
Anyway, Herod decides he likes his sister-in-law/niece Herodias. So, she ditches Philip and moves to Galilee. John the Baptist hears about it and calls Herod out: “It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife. Repent.” Well, you can’t just say that to a king. Herod puts John in prison. And Herodias wants him dead. But Herod kinda liked him. He was afraid of him—he was a holy man, with a message of condemnation. But he would still listen to him preach, even in his dungeon. His bad conscience was really bothering him.
But then came Herod’s birthday. And Herodias does what any good grudge-bearing mother does. She has her daughter dress up in some skimpy outfit and dance like a prostitute in front of her step-father (who would also be her great–uncle, right? What a messed-up family tree). Well, the girl is so good at exciting Herod’s lust that he makes the craziest vow—he’ll give her anything—even half of his kingdom. The guy was out of his mind, probably drunk, but he had to follow through if he wanted to save face in front of all the other big shots at the party.
Now Herodias could get her way: “Here’s what you do, Salome, sweetie… go back in there and ask your uncle–step–dad to give you the severed head of that nasty preacher man. Here, take this silver platter. Revenge is about to be served.”
And that was the end of John. Or so Herodias and Herod thought… until a little later, when they hear about this new guy preaching and doing miracles. His name was Jesus of Nazareth, but he reminded Herod of John the Baptist. And Herod still had a bad conscience. Could this be John, back from the dead, coming back to get him? Herod was afraid. And he had no hope of forgiveness.
It’s hard to hear the song of Truth in this cacophony of sin. But it’s there, in John’s preaching. John’s voice rang out in the wilderness. The Law of God resounded in its truth and purity. Repent, Herod! Repent, Herodias! What you are doing is against God’s Law. And the hearts of believing Judeans soared at hearing such a preacher—a true prophet of God, proclaiming God’s Law against the wickedness of the elite. And we also rightly delight in the Law of God. We love hearing God’s judgments delivered against a violent and shameless world, whether that’s Herod’s immoral court or our perverse country.
Yet, even as we sing our “Amen” to John’s sermon, his preaching convicts us too. For like Herod, we have lusted after what is not ours. Like Herodias, we have harbored anger and bitterness. And we have been offended by those who speak the Truth. We have defended and even rationalized our most blatant sins. And although we don’t have a prophet to behead, we have sought to silence God’s Word in less obvious ways. Avoiding the Word of Truth or pretending it doesn’t apply to you is no less damning than chopping off the preacher’s head.
Of course, none of that can actually silence the Truth. In spite of his beheading, John’s preaching has come down to us in the Holy Spirit’s Holy Scripture and so it is still proclaimed from pulpits throughout the ages. Prepare the way of the Lord. Repent!
Repent… and rejoice. This is the same Lord who baptizes you with His very own Name, baptizes you with His very own Spirit. This is the same Lord who died and rose again in order to give you that Baptism. And that Baptism does indeed forgives sins. It gives you a good conscience, so that you can confidently stand before God covered in the righteousness of Christ. No shame, no fear. You are perfect in your Baptism—perfect in Christ.
However, Christ didn’t suffer so that you would not suffer. He wasn’t crucified so that you would be spared a cross. He didn’t die so that you could escape death. Rather Christ suffered, was crucified, and died, so that in Him—united with Him in His Baptism—you might be plunged into His same death and so also emerge alive again in His resurrection.
So now, who is the real Forerunner here? In history John was born before Jesus, preached before Jesus, and was killed before Jesus. But in Truth, Jesus is the One who runs before us all: running into death and hell, dragging sin and Satan down with Him; running before John and before all His saints. It is the Lord who prepares the way for us through death and into life.
Christ is our Head, we are his Body. Can the head rise and leave the other members of its body in the grave? No. Just as surely as Christ is risen from the dead so shall we. Just as surely as Christ our Head reunites Himself with us, His members, so shall the head of St. John be reunited to his body. The saints in Christ never die in vain. Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints (Ps. 116:15). The martyrs give witness to the Truth with their words and also with their blood. They witness to that holy blood that forgives all sin and gives everlasting life.
And this is why the Church still sings praise and holds a feast on the day of a martyrdom. We praise Thee, we bless Thee, we worship Thee, we glorify Thee. We sing to the God of the martyrs—the God who raises the dead.
Martyrs are soldiers for Christ. The Church is an army for the Lord. But she’s not an army with marching feet and shining swords. This is a singing army. Her weapon is God’s Word, written, spoken, preached, and sung. The holy Church sings the Truth of God as she has learned the song from the Lord Himself, and from His faithful preachers like John.
The nations rage, the kings of the earth rise up, believers are killed, and the wicked jeer, making up parodies to mock the Truth. But still the Church sings over the din and disharmony of lies. Satan whispers his twisted tunes of doubt and despair. But the Church sings on, to soothe the troubled conscience with the forgiveness of sins. You see, we keep on singing even when our heads get chopped off, because Christ the Church’s Head is living and can never die.
Ultimately, the Church sings her song in preparation for that great Day when the whole heavenly host will be united around the throne of the Lamb. So it was fitting that we sang of our Baptism on this day dedicated to St. John the Baptist—the one who preached a Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. For only Baptism, only the forgiveness of sins, can bring John and us through death to our heavenly reward:
Death, you cannot end my gladness:
I am baptized into Christ!
When I die, I leave all sadness
To inherit paradise!
Though I lie in dust and ashes
Faith’s assurance brightly flashes:
Baptism has the strength divine
To make life immortal mine.There is nothing worth comparing
To this life-long comfort sure!
Open-eyed my grave is staring:
Even there I’ll sleep secure.
Though my flesh awaits its raising,
Still my soul continues praising:
I am baptized into Christ;
I’m a child of paradise! (LSB 594:4–5)
On that final Day, John and all the martyrs, the prophets, and the apostles, will all be raised up. And you will be raised up too, baptized saints of God—raised up in your body. We will all be joined together, living forever, with our Head, the Lord Jesus Christ, and singing a joyful and everlasting Alleluia.
In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.