Over the summer, I preached at Ely Cathedral – in the Lady Chapel, to a group of pilgrims from Halewood and beyond. Beforehand, eager to prepare, I looked at the lectionary readings set for that day, 29^th August. On 29^th August, the church calendar invites us to remember… The Beheading of John the Baptist. Great! Have you ever heard a sermon on the beheading of John the Baptist? I’ve preached one! And today the lectionary takes us back:

Now Herod the ruler heard about all that had taken place, and he was perplexed, because it was said by some that John had been raised from the dead,
by some that Elijah had appeared, and by others that one of the ancient prophets had arisen. Herod said, ‘John I beheaded; but who is this about whom I hear such things?’ And he tried to see him. (Luke 9:7-9)

There was a time when we might have thought that beheadings belonged to the history books – two wives of Henry VIII or the aristocrats of the French Revolution – both of which have been turned into ‘Carry On’ films.

But today, it’s not possible to treat the subject with such a light touch. The actions of members of the Islamic State, and others, broadcast to the world via internet videos, remind us that the barbaric practice survives.

It has always been there – robbing the deceased of any dignity in death and their relatives of a decent burial. It’s the ultimate form of disrespect. But before we despair, let me tell you that according to Steven Pinker, we may be living in the most peaceful time ever in the history of the human species. Difficult to believe, but Pinker argues that human beings in previous centuries have lived with, and died from, violence and conflict in far greater proportion than we do today. Far fewer human beings, as a proportion of the whole population, die violent deaths in our own day than in previous centuries.

Why were we invited to remember the beheading of John the Baptist? Most Christian saints from the earliest centuries of the church were martyrs – they died for their faith – and they are commemorated on the anniversary of their death, seen as the day of their entry into heaven. With John, we get to commemorate his birth as well (on 24 June, six months before the birth of Jesus, whose miraculous birth John prefigures) and he pops up in advent as the precursor to Jesus. But today his martyrdom is in view. Like Jesus, John’s death is recorded as significant.

John the Baptist – a bit of an awkward so-and-so, I’ve always thought – stands up for what is right, whatever the cost. He appears as one, sent by God, “crying aloud in the wilderness”, wearing clothes of camel’s hair, and living on locusts and wild honey. He denounces sin and hypocrisy, especially the religious sort, and proclaims a baptism of forgiveness. (Wouldn’t he be great in Celebrity Big Brother? Or some makeover show. Imagine Gillian McKeith telling him, ‘You are what you eat’. And what would Gok say about that camel-hair robe?)

John also preaches that another is coming who will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

But John denounces Herod’s incestuous marriage to his brother’s wife, Herodias, and is thrown into prison. Why doesn’t Herod execute him straightaway? Perhaps he fears that John really is God’s messenger. The daughter of Herodias (we call her Salome, but she is not named in the Gospels) pleases Herod with her dance and, offered any reward, goaded by her mother, demands John’s head on a plate. It’s barbaric, of course. But John gets his comeuppance.

You and I might have advised him to bite his tongue. Surely it’s better for you to live on and preach for years to come, not have your career cut short by denouncing those in power? It makes sense, but not to John.

The book of Hebrews reminds us that John stands in a long line of those who were “faithful unto death” (Hebrews 11.32 – 12.2), even though they wouldn’t see what we have seen – the fulfilment of God’s promise in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. John didn’t see the resurrection either. But like the heroes of Hebrews, and others before and since, he put his hope in the things he had not seen.

But it was not John who had been raised from the dead. Nor was it Elijah or one of the prophets. Something greater than any of them is here. Like John, his birth is accompanied by angels. Like John, he will die at the hands of the powerful. But unlike John, this Jesus will show through his resurrection, just how limited is the power ultimately of a Herod, or any who hold on to earthly power by violence.