The death of John the Baptist

[Journey with Jesus – Day 14]

This is an attempt to imagine how Jesus would have responded to the awful news of the death of his forerunner and cousin – imagining the horror, the shock, the grief.

As soon as I saw their ashen faces, I knew. I think I always knew this is how it would end for John. Someone who spoke out so courageously without any regard to the status of those he challenged would pay the price. You didn’t have to be a prophet to work out that as soon as John criticised Herod Antipas for his marriage to his brother’s wife, Herodias, saying it wasn’t lawful, that he would have a target on his back. Herod himself had too tenuous a grasp on power to allow the embarrassment of some renegade prophet speaking out against him to go on unchecked. So, he had him arrested, snatch squads coming to where he was speaking in the wilderness, and incarcerated in the Macherus fortress. We didn’t hear much from John from then on – only when he sent two of his followers to ask if I was the promised Messiah. I know I wasn’t want he expected. He was a man of action, of fire and brimstone – Elijah returned – and he may not understand that God is doing a new thing, bringing light and life to the forgotten and downtrodden, bringing in a new Kingdom – the Kingdom of God, not a kingdom on earth. I simply tried to reassure him by pointing out what God is doing in and through me. The lame walk, the blind see, the dead rise – just as the prophets themselves foretold. And then I sent a message – that God blesses those who don’t stumble because of me. I prayed for him every day. For God to hold him, to fill him with peace, that he may not lose hope. I thanked God for him, as John was the one who had been sent to be a voice crying in the wilderness, to prepare the way for me, to make straight paths so that people may be ready to receive me when I came. And many have been – those whom he baptised have become my disciples. No one who has been born is greater than him. His light burned brighter than most – but, on this day, it had been snuffed out.

John’s disciples had tears in their eyes as they recounted how John had met his end. “As time went on, we had hoped that Herod would keep John alive – we knew that Herod was fascinated by him. In fact, he protected him from Herodias who wanted John dead. He used to go down to his cell and talk with him – he liked to listen to John, even if he didn’t really understand what he was saying. But all the time it seemed that Herodias was waiting for her moment to take revenge on John – and it happened yesterday.”

“What happened?” I asked quietly.

“Well, yesterday was Herod’s birthday. He held a banquet for his high officials, military commanders and the leading men of Galilee. Herodias’s daughter came in and danced for him and the other dinner guests. He was so pleased that he promised to give her anything she wanted and he would give it to her – up to half of his kingdom. She went and asked her mum, Herodias, what she should ask for, and Heriodias saw her moment – and demanded John’s head.”

“And so that’s what she came back and asked of Herod?”

“Exactly.”

I shook my head, and felt sick. It was all so avoidable. “And Herod agreed?’

“Yes. He was really distressed. He didn’t want to go through with it, but he didn’t want to lose face in front of all his dinner guests, so he gave the orders for the executioner to bring John’s head on a platter and the man went and did the deed. Poor John probably didn’t have any warning or idea what was going to happen to him – it all happened so quickly. The man brought Herodias John’s head as requested. As soon as we heard, we came and took John’s body and laid it to rest.”

I put my hand to my mouth. I was utterly horrified. It was so awful. Poor, poor John, who had been so strong, so fearless, who stood up for what was right no matter what the cost. He was upright, holy, strong. And his poor disciples had lost their leader, their direction. They looked so lost. I embraced them.

“I’m so sorry, lads. Thank you so much for coming to tell me. It can’t have been easy.”

They walked away in a daze. I was reeling, myself. John had paved the way for me in life. He would also do so in death. I needed time to grieve, reflect, mourn my cousin. But soon my disciples, whom I’d sent to preach and do the works of the kingdom were on their way back to tell me all they had accomplished. Peter bounded up to me. “Master, it was incredible!” he cried, and went on to recount his adventures. I felt so full of joy for them, for the kingdom, but also so incredibly sad. Though they were so excited and full of joy, I know so well how much it would have taken out of them to be ministering to all the people. So many people were still coming and going that my disciples didn’t have a chance to eat, so I wanted to look after them, as well as myself. “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest,” I told them.

So we went away by ourselves in a boat to a solitary place. But many who saw us leaving clearly recognised us and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of us. When we landed and I saw a large crowd, my heart broke for them – there was so much need. They were like sheep without a shepherd. I swallowed, but my own needs behind me and began to teach the crowd.