For the same Herod had sent and seized John, and had bound him in prison on account of Herodias, the wife of Philip his brother, because he had married her.
Mark breaks off his account of sending out the twelve disciples to look back at a death that had already happened. John the Baptist lay chained in prison by order of Herod Antipas, ruler of Galilee, because of Herodias — a woman Herod had taken from his own brother.
Verse 14 has just told us that Herod was sure Jesus was John risen from the dead. This verse begins the explanation of that haunted certainty.
The third thing to notice is the solemn history of conscience in King Herod. When he heard how famous Jesus had become, he credited the miracles to John the Baptist, risen from the dead. Other men held the usual mix of opinions and uncertainty, but Herod's bad conscience made him sure it was John, the man he had beheaded. What a torment conscience is, even in this life!... The Holy Spirit then turns aside to tell us the circumstances, and to explain why Herod was so uneasy and troubled.
The verse says Herod "had married her." Commentators weigh that marriage against God's law on family ties, and find more than one wrong in it.
John rebuked the king for the many notorious evils he had committed. But perhaps his blackest crime was marrying his brother Philip's wife. The fearless prophet did not hold back. He denounced the incestuous adulterer to his face, though the man sat on a throne, and condemned him by the laws of God and man (Lev. 18:16; Lev. 20:21)... The king's guilt was three times over. Herod's own wife was alive. Herodias' husband was alive. And Herod and Herodias were uncle and niece. But there was no repentance.
John did not deliver his verdict once and move on. The Greek tense in the next verse points to a settled habit.
The king often sent for the great preacher, but he had only one text: "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." The imperfect tense in the Greek of Mark 6:18 shows that this was John's constant theme with the wicked king... The guilt of sin is the first lesson from God that everyone has to learn. Until a person learns it, no other lesson is possible.
Herod did not answer the charge. He removed the man who made it. One writer traces that move back to the desire already at work in him.
The testimony of the faithful does not improve the world. It condemns it, and that is what the world cannot bear... The lust of the flesh was at work in this man's heart, and it leads him into wickedness and pollution. The sinner cannot give up sinning, even under restraint. He carries on in his sin by getting rid of the witness who condemns him. So Herod has John seized, bound, and put in prison. Corruption always leads on to violence.
Mark says Herod seized John "for the sake of Herodias." Herod himself was of two minds. He respected John, he listened to him, and he still kept him in chains.
His unlawful wife swayed him, and he put John in prison for the testimony John brought him. Of course John was right to rebuke Herod's adulterous marriage, for Herod was king of Israel, the nation that claimed to be God's. The hatred of Herodias demanded John's death, but Herod feared John, whom he knew to be a just and holy man. When John spoke to him, he did many things. No doubt he was trying to soothe his conscience with outward good deeds, while the truth never reached his heart, even though he was glad to listen to John. It is one thing to see that something is true. It is quite another to let it take hold of the heart.
John's task was to go ahead of the Messiah. Prison did not end that task.
John was the forerunner of the Messiah, the righteous Servant of Jehovah, right down to the last act of his public testimony. He bore witness to the Anointed Sufferer in the prison just as much as in the wilderness, for both he and his Master were cut off in the middle of their days.
What Herod did to the messenger pointed to what he would later do to the Master.
The rejection and murder of the Forerunner is a solemn indication that, in due time, Herod will take his part in the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.
- The sin. Herod married his brother's wife, who was also his niece, while both his own wife and her husband were still living — a marriage God's law condemned.
- The word. John said it more than once. It was his steady message to the king, since the guilt of sin is the first lesson anyone has to learn.
- The chain. Unable to give up the sin, Herod silenced the witness instead; corruption always moves on to violence.
- The heart. He heard John gladly and did many things, yet knowing something is true is not the same as letting it take hold of the heart.
- The pattern. John went ahead of his Master in prison and death, as he had in preaching. The king who bound him would soon share in rejecting Christ.
For John said to Herod, It is not lawful for thee to have the wife of thy brother.
One sentence, repeated in a king's ear, sent John to prison. What does a servant of God owe a ruler living in open sin — and what does that faithfulness cost?
John was not offering a private opinion. His charge rested on God's written commands about marriage inside the family. The guilt had three layers:
John rebuked the king for the many well-known evils he had done. Perhaps his worst crime was marrying his brother Philip's wife. The fearless prophet did not hold back. He named him to his face as a man guilty of incest and adultery, even though he sat on a throne, and he condemned him by the laws of God and of man (Lev. 18:16; Lev. 20:21). "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife" summed up his charge. The king's guilt was three times over. Herod's own wife was alive. The husband of Herodias was alive. And Herod and Herodias were uncle and niece.
Mark's wording describes a habit, not one outburst. One writer draws that from the Greek tense:
Someone may say: "I wish you would change your tune, sir. Why do you keep bringing up this question of sin?" Herod no doubt said something like that to John the Baptist. The king often sent for the great preacher, but he had one text: "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." The imperfect tense in the Greek of Mark 6:18 shows that this was John's regular theme with the wicked ruler. … The guilt of sin is the first lesson from God that everyone has to learn. Until a person learns it, no other lesson is possible.
John named the exact wrong each group was guilty of. The king got no softer treatment.
He does not talk to people vaguely about sin in general. He speaks straight to them about their own sins. To the tax collectors, whose special fault was demanding more than was due, he says, "Collect no more than you are authorized to do." To the soldiers he says, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages" … To Herod the king, who was no doubt used to very different language, he gives a short, stern rebuke: "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." These last few words cost him his life.
Herod ruled the nation God had chosen. That gave John the right to speak, and it made Herod's answer worse.
It was right for John to rebuke Herod for the serious sin of taking his brother's wife as his own. Herod was king of the nation God had chosen, and he was responsible to obey God's authority. So there is no doubt the prophet spoke for God. John rebuked him for other evils too. But instead of taking this to heart, Herod added the wickedness of putting the Lord's servant in prison.
Herod jailed the man he could not answer. Prison was not the end of that road:
The testimony of the faithful does not improve the world. It condemns the world, and that is what the world cannot bear. … The lust of the flesh was at work in this man's heart, and to satisfy it he is led into wickedness and pollution. The sinner cannot give up sinning even when something holds him back. He goes on in his sin by getting rid of the witness who condemns him. So Herod has John seized, bound, and put in prison. Violence always follows corruption. Held in check at first, it opens the door to murderous thoughts, and his conscience grows harder and harder.
Herod killed the preacher, but he did not end the preaching. One writer traces what Herod later sensed:
He had removed the head of the Baptist, but the voice that spoke of righteousness and purity was not silenced. The witness for the truth may be killed, and his bloody head shown off at the wild parties of the wicked, but the sword cannot put truth itself to death. And Herod was not wrong to think that the Voice then preaching in Capernaum and Chorazin was saying to him, "It is not lawful for you to have her."
- Law. John's charge came from God's written commands on marriage. Herod's guilt was threefold: his own wife alive, Herodias' husband alive, and the two of them uncle and niece.
- Voice. The Greek tense shows a repeated message, not one remark. John pressed one text on the king every time they met, because guilt is the first lesson anyone has to learn.
- Aim. Faithful preaching names the hearer's own sin, not sin in general. Tax collectors, soldiers and a king each heard their own wrong.
- Cost. Those few words cost John his life. Herod could not answer the charge, so he silenced the witness, and corruption slid into violence.
- Echo. The messenger died; the message did not. The same word about the same sin met Herod again in the ministry of Christ.
But Herodias kept it [in her mind] against him, and wished to kill him, and could not
Herod had married his brother's wife. John the Baptist told him it was against God's law. This verse records what that word cost. It shows a hatred that cannot get its way, held back for a while by a king's uneasy respect for the man he had imprisoned.
Herodias' anger has a cause: a faithful man said what God's law said. One writer explains how the world answers honesty like that.
The testimony of faithful people does not improve the world. It condemns the world, and that is what the world cannot bear… The sinner cannot give up sinning, even when he is held back. He carries on in his sin by getting rid of the witness who condemns him.
The same writer describes the woman behind the grudge.
Herod is led by Herodias, a passionate woman, governed by her hatred, who treats the prophet's rebuke as an unforgivable insult. She too wanted to put him to death, but she found Herod's respect for John in her way.
The Greek verb behind her wish is thelō. One reference work traces the word through the New Testament. It points to the will behind the act, not just the act.
For thelō, see John 6:67, "Will you also go away?" It is not simply the act, but the will to do it: "Is it your will or disposition?"… Mark 6:19: "would have killed him."
This writer quotes an older translation. The ESV renders the same words here as "wanted to put him to death."
So the verse reports a settled will, not a passing flash of temper.
Something stood in her way, and the next verse names it: Herod feared John. Commentators trace that barrier to Herod's own conscience, and show how little it could hold.
Herod's natural conscience led him to listen to John. He feared this holy man who had faithfully rebuked him, so he had some regard for him and shielded him from the hatred of Herodias. But what is natural is not enough to build a barrier against the flesh. The excitement of a banquet and royal pride are enough to cause the prophet's death.
Herod's own rage cooled; hers did not. One writer weighs why John stayed in prison at all.
Probably, once the heat of his anger died down, he no longer meant to kill John. Yet he kept him in prison, and no doubt he did this out of regard for his guilty partner, who kept up her anger against John.
John was the forerunner, the messenger sent ahead of Christ. One writer reads his death as a signpost.
The rejection and murder of the Forerunner is a solemn sign. In due time Herod will take his own part in the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.
Herod liked John and listened to him. None of that saved John's life. One writer draws the lesson for anyone who carries God's message into a world that does not want it.
He had no love for the truth. He might like the man who preached it well enough, and at first be glad to hear him… No respect, and no kind feeling for anyone or anything that is of God, will ever stand when Satan is let loose to work. He is then free to carry out his own deadly plan of ruining or blocking the testimony of God. Those who serve in the ministry of Christ must expect to see this tried, and will do well to resist it.
- Cause — John's word exposed Herodias' sin. Faithful testimony does not improve the world; it condemns it, and that is what the world cannot bear.
- Will — "Wanted to put him to death" describes a settled will, not an outburst. She had already decided; only the means were missing.
- Restraint — She could not, because Herod feared John. But admiring a holy man is not repenting, and admiration holds nothing back for long.
- Patience of malice — Herod's anger cooled; hers stayed warm. A grudge kept in the heart simply waits for its occasion.
- Preview — What Herod did to the forerunner marks out the part he will take in the death of Christ. He liked the preacher and killed him anyway; servants of Christ should expect the same.
for Herod feared John knowing that he was a just and holy man, and kept him safe; and having heard him, did many things, and heard him gladly.
A ruler holds a preacher in prison, protects him, listens to him with pleasure — and then has him killed. Mark's few words about Herod raise a hard question. How far can a person admire the truth and still refuse to obey it?
Herod's own verdict on his prisoner was accurate. Writers trace that righteousness through John's whole life, down to the words that put him in prison.
He came in the "way of righteousness" (Matthew 21:32), and he kept to it to the end. Set apart to God from his mother's womb, he held on to this precious character to the last. Herod knew him to be a righteous and holy man (Mark 6:20). His practical righteousness and holiness show themselves when he says to the king, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." But the testimony of the faithful does not improve the world. It condemns the world, and that is what the world cannot bear.
But the admission changed nothing, and the pattern is an old one.
Despite this admission, the unrighteous and unholy ruler did not release his righteous and holy prisoner. He held him in custody. Yet this was nothing new in the world's history. From the beginning, evil has hated the good it sees in another. Why did Cain kill Abel? Because his own works were evil; and like Herod he knew that his brother's were righteous (1 John 3:12).
The verse says the king feared the prisoner. Commentators dwell on that reversal of roles.
The king's attitude toward John shows that truth and righteousness cannot be beaten. It was Herod, not John, who feared. The purple-robed pleasure-seeker was a moral coward in front of the prophet. Such men always are before the righteous and the holy.
Where did that power come from? One writer traces it to its source.
"Herod feared John." What power there is in that word, for that fear came from John's communion with God! A man who has communion with God is, though in perfect grace, a fearful thing.
"Kept him safe" is a protective word — Herod was shielding John from someone. Older translations read "observed him" here, and where the ESV has "greatly perplexed," some manuscripts read "he did many things."
Herod feared John, if not as a prophet of God then as a righteous and holy man. He kept him safe from the spite of Herodias, who wanted to kill him… The faithful words and fearless bearing of the prophet had their effect on the immoral king. "When he heard him, he was perplexed," or as many read it, "he did many things." He tried to compromise with the truth by carrying out a few minor reforms. But he never repented of the foul sin he was guilty of, in full view of his kingdom and of his God. He did many things, but not the one thing.
Herod enjoyed listening to John. Writers weigh what that pleasure was worth.
He heard John gladly too; and it is also said elsewhere that the common people heard Jesus gladly (Mark 12:37). But such gladness is not the hearing by which faith comes.
One writer names what was missing.
But desire in divine things never comes to any good on its own. It needs the action of conscience with it: the sense of sin on the one hand, and of grace on God's part on the other. Many a man has heard God's testimony gladly, and given it all up… There was nothing of divine life in the working of his conscience. There was no working of grace, because there was no sense of his own sin and need before God, which might drive him to God.
Herod's respect for John did not survive one banquet. Commentators read the scene as pointing forward.
Herod had no principles, yet he could appreciate goodness in others. He did listen to John and did many things on his advice. But Herodias waited for her moment, and a court party gave her the chance she wanted. The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and rather than break his promise has John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept."… The rejection and murder of the forerunner is a solemn sign. In due time Herod will take his part in the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.
- Recognised. Herod judged John rightly: a righteous and holy man. He admired the light and never obeyed it.
- Feared. The prisoner's communion with God made a king tremble. Holiness carries a power that rank cannot match.
- Protected. He kept John safe from Herodias. His conscience was alive enough to trouble him, but not to free his prisoner.
- Reformed. He did many things at John's word — everything except part with the sin John named.
- Ruined. Gladness in hearing is not the hearing by which faith comes. The man who enjoyed the preacher beheaded him, and later shared in rejecting Christ.
And a holiday being come, when Herod, on his birthday, made a supper to his grandees, and to the chiliarchs, and the chief [men] of Galilee;
Herodias had long wanted John the Baptist dead, but no chance to act. Then the king's birthday gave her one. The whole leadership of Galilee sat at his table.
Mark moves from the crowds' guesses about Jesus straight into the king's court.
However, the fame of Christ reaches the court circle. We have already seen that the common people had no spiritual discernment at all. Now we are to learn the low moral state of the higher circles... Herodias waits her time, and a court party gave her the opportunity she sought. The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and keeps it by having John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept."
Birthday parties are so ordinary to us that the detail slips by. In the Bible it is rare, and the two men who hold one are not encouraging company.
Scripture mentions only two people who kept a birthday: Pharaoh, in Genesis 40:20, and Herod Antipas, when John the Baptist lost his life... We do not read that the Israelites had any such custom. And the Preacher says the day of death is better than the day of one's birth. Ecclesiastes 7:1.
The men listed beside the nobles were not minor officials. Older translations call them "high captains." The rank came from the Roman army.
Six chiefs led each legion, and each of them commanded 1,000 men. The title is usually translated 'chief captain'. In Mark 6:21 it is 'high captain'.
The banquet was not simply a meal. Every element of it pointed back to the host.
It was Herod's birthday. Such a day fixes a man's thoughts on himself and stirs up the desire to please himself... It was a royal entertainment, and he himself was the centre of it. What could the flesh desire more? It had its fill. And now the eyes were also gratified... Then Herod must be equal to the occasion. If all this is for his gratification he must not act meanly, he must act as a king.
The whole story of Herod runs through three appetites. The banquet is the middle link.
The lust of the flesh had led the ruler of the people into an infamous alliance with his brother Philip's wife... Then comes a day when the lust of the eye finds a passing pleasure in the charms of a dancing girl, and leads the frivolous king into a rash oath. Finally the pride of life leads him to commit murder to maintain his paltry ideas of honour.
The verse says the day was suitable — but suitable for whose plan?
"A convenient day" arrives; the hand of Satan is there urging on his instruments to the final act. Men are blind. They think they are doing their own will. They do not see that they are the devil's plaything, and that he is leading them into war against God. Satan needs only to touch one or two more secret springs in man's heart, and the crime will be done. The day is well chosen. It is Herod's birthday, when he displays his power and splendour in a way that satisfies the pride of life.
Herod had held out against Herodias for a while. His conscience, and his respect for John, gave him some resistance — but only some.
Herod's natural conscience had led him to listen to John. He feared this holy man who had faithfully rebuked him. That fear made him respect John, and it kept John safe from the hatred of Herodias. But what is natural is not enough to form a barrier to the flesh. The excitement of a banquet and royal pride are enough to cause the prophet's death. Here is a painful example of the way man deceives himself. He imagines himself strong enough to display his power. All he does is reveal his weakness and his slavery to his passions.
Set that feast beside the way the Son of God lived.
Though Lord of all He took the place of a subject, obedient, dependent man upon earth. Instead of making Himself the centre of earth's service, He came to serve. Man's need set the scope of that service, and His Father's will set its rule. Satan displayed all the glory of the world before Him, and He rejected it with indignation.
- The day — Scripture names only two birthday feasts, Pharaoh's and Herod's. Such a day turns a man's thoughts onto himself.
- The guests — nobles, commanders of a thousand men, and the leading men of Galilee. Herod's whole world sat there to watch him be king.
- The self — flesh, eyes and pride are each fed in turn, until Herod must "act as a king" and swears a rash oath.
- The hand — behind the guest list is Satan, using men who think they are following their own will.
- The contrast — Herod made himself the centre, and showed his slavery to his passions. Christ refused the world's glory and came to serve.
and the daughter of the same Herodias having come in, and danced, pleased Herod and those that were with [him] at table; and the king said to the damsel, Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt and I will give it thee.
Mark moves from a dance at a royal birthday party to a promise big enough to swallow half a kingdom. One evening of pleasure traps a man into murder, and it raises a question: what is a king's word really worth?
Nothing about the setting is accidental. Every part of the evening served one man's pleasure.
It was Herod's birthday — a day that fastens a man's thoughts on himself and stirs up the desire to please himself. Herod "made a supper to his lords, high captains, and chief men of Galilee." It was a royal party with himself at the centre. What more could the flesh want? It had its fill. And now his eyes were fed too — the beauty of Herodias' daughter, the grace of her movements, the elegance of her dancing. She pleased Herod and those who sat with him. What a circle of delight! Then Herod had to be equal to the occasion. If all this was for his pleasure, he must not act cheaply; he must act like a king... Here is the pride of life: claiming the power to give, like a sovereign, whatever is asked.
The size of the offer tells you what kind of man made it. Excitement carried him past all sense.
Herod, as seen in the Gospels, was a weak-minded, impressionable man... The presence of his lords and captains at his feast excited him. The dancing of the daughter of Herodias before him and his guests carried him away in a whirl of exuberant pleasure. Without any self-control, he uttered the most extravagant promises: "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you," he said, adding no qualifications. And to show that this was not mere Eastern exaggeration, he confirmed his promise with oaths. The man who inherited a fourth of his father's kingdom swore to the girl, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom." Infatuated and drunken men sometimes speak in this wild, impulsive way. So Ahasuerus more than once promised to give Esther what she asked, up to half of his kingdom (Esther 5:3, 6; 7:2), and Herod may have foolishly thought he was imitating the great world-emperor with this boastful pledge.
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The dance was no happy accident. Writers trace two hands behind it: Herodias' and Satan's.
The right day comes, and Satan's hand is there, urging his instruments on to the final act. Men are blinded and think they are carrying out their own will. They do not see that they are the devil's plaything, and that he is leading them on in war against God... The day is well chosen: it is Herod's birthday, when his power and luxury are on show in a way that satisfies the pride of life... The lust of the eyes enters with the girl and takes possession of the king.
Herodias knew the man she was dealing with.
It would seem that Herodias had plotted for this outcome. She had set a trap for Herod and baited it with her own daughter. Knowing his disposition, she counted on some such promise from the monarch when he had been drinking.
The guests saw a delightful performance. Writers look at the heart behind it.
Note the character of the girl who pleased Herod enough to win such a promise, confirmed by an oath. It is fair to assume that her beauty and graceful movements produced this pleasure. Who could have thought that behind it all was a heart taking positive delight in corruption and violence! Oh world, here is the character of those who seduce you by their charms!
Herod treated his own word as sacred and a man's life as cheap. Yet he was never truly trapped.
The King was very sorry, but not sorry enough to admit that he had made a foolish oath which he could not keep and still do right. His own pride and his fear of men decided him to have John murdered. If she had asked for Herod's head, would he have agreed? Herod did have a way out, if he had had the least sense of responsibility to God. He might have told the girl that John's head was not his to give; but he was proud enough to think that he had title over men's bodies.
Set beside Herod, Christ answers the opposite way when men ask Him for places in His kingdom.
Though Lord of all He took the place of a subject, obedient, dependent man on earth. Instead of making Himself the centre of earth's ministry He came to minister... His poor disciples begged Him, "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you... Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." His reply was moving: "to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared." He claims no power to give in the kingdom which He will take in obedience to His Father's will.
- Feast — Herod built the birthday supper around himself. A day given to his own pleasure set the stage.
- Dance — pleasure came in through the eyes and took over a weak, excited man with no self-control.
- Oath — carried away, he swore away half a kingdom when he ruled only a quarter. He echoed a world-emperor's old boast to Esther.
- Trap — Herodias had waited for this night. She baited the trap with her own daughter, knowing what a drinking king would promise.
- Contrast — Herod claimed a power over life that was never his. Christ, asked for places in His kingdom, refused to give what was His Father's to give.
And he swore to her, Whatsoever thou shalt ask me I will give thee, to half of my kingdom.
A birthday feast, a dance, and a king carried away far enough to promise half his kingdom. The words sound generous, even royal. Commentators read them as the peak of one man's self-display, and as the moment a trap set for John the Baptist snaps shut.
The promise has no limits, and Herod did not even rule a whole kingdom. One writer traces how he worked up to the words, and where he got them.
Herod, as seen in the Gospels, was a weak-minded, impressionable man. The straight talk of the prophet impressed him. The dancing of the daughter of Herodias before him and his guests carried him away in a whirl of exuberant pleasure. Having no self-control at all, he made the most extravagant promises: "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you," he said, adding no conditions. And to show this was not mere Eastern exaggeration, he confirmed his promise with oaths. The man who inherited a fourth of his father's kingdom swore to the girl, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom." Infatuated and drunken men sometimes speak in this wild, headlong way. Ahasuerus more than once promised Esther whatever she asked, up to half of his kingdom. Herod may have foolishly thought he was copying that great world-emperor with this boastful pledge.
Herod had built the whole evening around himself.
It was Herod's birthday, a day which naturally fastens a man's thoughts on himself and makes him want to gratify himself. Herod "gave a banquet for his nobles and military commanders and the leading men of Galilee." It was a royal entertainment with himself at the centre. What more could the flesh want? It was satisfied to the full. His eyes feasted too on the beauty of Herodias' daughter, on the grace of her movements and the elegance of her dancing. She pleased Herod and those who sat with him. Then Herod had to match the occasion. If all this is for his gratification, he must not act meanly, he must act like a king. So he swore to her, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom." Here is the pride of life. He assumes the power to give, like a sovereign, whatever anyone asks.
Herod's oath looks spontaneous. One writer argues someone had planned for it.
It seems that Herodias had plotted for this outcome. She had set a trap for Herod and baited it with her own daughter. Knowing his character, she counted on some such promise from the ruler when he was well into his drink. The sweetness of revenge meant more to her than half of Galilee, so she told her daughter to ask for the head of John the Baptist.
Herod kept his oath even though keeping it meant murder. One writer asks what he could have done instead.
The king was exceedingly sorry, but not sorry enough to admit that he had made a foolish oath and could not righteously keep it. His own pride and his fear of men decided him to have John murdered. In fact, Herod did have a way out if he had had the least sense of responsibility to God. He might have told the girl that John's head was not his to give; but he was proud enough to think he had title over men's bodies.
One writer sums it up in a single sentence: "It has been well said, 'The devil's promises are better broken than kept.'" Hamilton Smith
Commentators differ on whether Herod was a weak man. One writer sees no weakness in him at all — only an oath his enemies could use against him.
He was by no means a weak man. He would not have killed the Baptist just because Herodias or her daughter wanted it. They trapped him instead through his superstitious regard for his oath. The man is blessed who "swears to his own hurt and does not change"; but Herod kept it to the hurt of another.
Others also asked Christ for whatever they wanted. His reply refused the very power Herod claimed.
Though Lord of all, He took the place of a subject, an obedient, dependent man on earth. Instead of making Himself the centre of earth's ministry, He came to minister... His poor disciples begged Him, "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." How moving was His reply: "...to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared." He claims no power to give in that kingdom. He will receive it in obedience to His Father's will.
- Flattered. Excitement, applause and a dance emptied Herod of self-control. He promised with no conditions attached.
- Inflated. Half a kingdom may have been a phrase copied from a far greater ruler. The offer measured Herod's vanity, not his generosity.
- Baited. Herodias knew the man, used her own daughter as bait, and valued revenge above half of Galilee.
- Trapped. A foolish oath, not real strength, gave others their handle on him. He kept his word at another man's cost.
- Contrasted. Asked for the highest places, Christ said they were not His to grant. Herod's boast has none of that humility.
And she went out, and said to her mother, What should I ask? And she said, The head of John the baptist.
A king has just sworn a rash oath at his birthday banquet. A young dancer steps out of the hall to ask her mother what to name as her prize. The answer she brings back turns an evening's entertainment into the murder of God's servant.
She had to leave the hall to ask, because her mother was not at the table. She went to the one person who should have guided her — and that is where the tragedy lies.
The promise had no limits. So the girl went out to ask her mother, who by Eastern custom was not present at the banquet. Such consultation was in itself a proper step to take. Sadly, her mother could only counsel her for evil and not for good. It would seem that Herodias had plotted for this outcome. She had set a trap for Herod and baited it with her own daughter. Knowing his disposition, she counted on some such promise from the ruler when he was well into his drink. And now the "convenient" moment had come. Revenge was sweeter to her than half of Galilee, so she told her daughter to ask for the head of John the Baptist.
Herodias could have named money, land, or half of Galilee. She named a man's life, because his preaching had named her sin.
He came in the "way of righteousness" (Matt. 21:32), and he kept to it to the end... He shows his practical righteousness and holiness when he says to the king, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife." But the testimony of the faithful does not improve the world. It condemns the world, and that is what the world cannot bear... Even when held back, the sinner cannot give up sinning. He goes on in his sin by getting rid of the witness who condemns him.
Mark's account has her step out to check with her mother. But the plan was new to neither of them.
The immoral mother started it. Her heart thirsted for revenge on God's servant. But the daughter entered eagerly into the plan. Matthew tells us that it was all planned beforehand, and that her mother had instructed the daughter. Yet it appears that once she had the king's promise she took it back to Herodias (see Mark's account), and the plan was confirmed.
Compare what the mother said with what the girl then said to the king. The extras were her own.
It seems it was the daughter who wanted the gruesome reward handed to her on a dish, in front of all the guests. She also demanded the hideous gift at once. She feared that the weak-minded king might regret his rash vow and take back his promise.
Set the cost of the request beside what bought it, and the whole system stands exposed.
So the dance of a loose girl cheaply buys the death of the prophet, and the king's oath stays unbroken. What a world it is, from every angle — in its pleasures, its morals, or its underlying passions and hatreds! In such a world, what an honour to be persecuted! What a disgrace to be well thought of!
Was the king trapped by his own oath? One writer says he was not.
The king was very sorry, but not sorry enough to admit he had made a foolish oath that he could not righteously keep. His own pride and his fear of men decided him to have John murdered. If she had asked for Herod's head, would he have agreed? In fact, Herod did have a way out if he had had the least sense of responsibility to God. He might have told the girl that John's head was not his to give.
One rash promise, kept when it should have been broken, pointed to something worse still ahead.
The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and rather than break his promise has John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept." The rejection and murder of John, the forerunner of Christ, is a solemn sign. In due time Herod will take his part in the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.
- Asking — Going to her mother for counsel was right in itself. The whole disaster lay in whom she asked. A proper habit is only as safe as the adviser.
- Baiting — Herodias plotted the moment, knew Herod's weakness, and used her own daughter as the bait. Revenge mattered more to her than half of Galilee.
- Bearing — Faithful testimony does not improve the world; it condemns it. John died for that. The sinner who will not drop his sin silences the witness instead.
- Buying — A dance bought a prophet's life. In a world with such prices, persecution is the honour and popularity the disgrace.
- Breaking — Herod could have said John's head was not his to give. He kept a promise he should have broken. That murder marked out the road to the rejection of Christ Himself.
And immediately going in with haste to the king, she asked saying, I desire that thou give me directly upon a dish the head of John the baptist.
Herod's birthday feast has just produced a reckless oath. The girl who danced has stepped out to ask her mother what to name as her prize. She comes back with a demand that turns a banquet hall into a place of execution. Commentators fix on two things: how fast she asks, and the dish she asks it on.
She hurried in and wanted it done at once. Writers say the rush was hers, not her mother's — she feared the king might come to his senses.
Herodias's depraved instincts appear in the daughter too. She hurried back to the king and delivered her mother's message with additions of her own. Compare the mother's words with the girl's. It seems the daughter was the one who wanted the gruesome reward handed to her on a dish, in front of all the guests. She also demanded the hideous gift at once. She feared the weak-minded king might regret his rash vow and take back his promise.
What was the platter she asked for? A dictionary entry sums it up: an everyday serving dish.
Dish. Num. 7:13-85; Matt. 14:8, 11; Mark 6:25, 28. In Ezra 1:9 it is basin or bowl. In the New Testament it is πίναξ, probably a wooden platter.
That detail is not decoration. The dish tells you what kind of hunger was at that table.
The immoral mother, with a heart thirsting for revenge on God's servant, was the instigator. But the daughter clearly entered eagerly into the plan… What but a heart thoroughly used to wickedness could have made her hurry in and ask, in front of the king and all his guests, to hold the severed head of God's honoured servant in her own hands? She would have it in a dish, as if to show that this alone was the food that would satisfy their hunger for revenge.
The girl who had just delighted a room full of nobles now asks for a killing. Commentators read that gap as a warning about how the world draws people in.
It is fair to assume that the pleasure she gave Herod came from her beauty and the grace of her movements. Who could have thought that behind all this was a heart taking positive delight in corruption and violence! Oh world, world! Here is the character of those who seduce you by their charms.
Commentators take the scene as a portrait of the world itself.
The world is the place where a man makes himself the object and the centre. He chases his pleasure, feeds his lust, and lifts himself up in pride. It is the place where seductions abound: they have natural beauty and grace, but inside they are full of corruption and violence, deceit and blood. And it is the place where Satan uses these things to wipe out, as far as he can, every trace of God's testimony.
Everyone in the room believes they are doing as they please. Commentators say otherwise: another hand is moving them, and this request is the last spring he touches.
A "convenient day" arrives. Satan's hand is there, urging on his instruments to the final act. Men are blinded and think they are carrying out their own will. They do not see that they are the devil's plaything, and that he is leading them into war against God. Only one or two more secret springs in man's heart need a touch, and the crime will follow… Urged on by her mother, this thoughtless girl asks eagerly for the head of John the Baptist — "at once." She has no conscience, and she is used to having her whims obeyed.
Why does anyone want this man's head? Writers trace it back to a rebuke — and to a promise the king would not break.
Herod had formed a guilty marriage with his brother's wife, and John the Baptist had rebuked him for his sin. This rebuke stirred up the hatred of Herodias, the guilty adulteress. She would have killed John but could find no way to do it, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a just and holy man… The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and rather than break his promise has John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept."
Another writer notes that the king still had a way out.
Even then there was still a way out, for what she asked did not belong to him. On the contrary, he held authority in order to do justice and judgment, and he ought to protect the life of the innocent.
- Asked in haste — the girl adds her own urgency, "at once," because she fears the king may sober up and withdraw his word.
- Asked on a dish — a plain serving platter, as though revenge were the next course at the feast.
- Asked by charm — her beauty and grace won the promise. Behind them was a heart at home with corruption and violence.
- Asked by prompting — mother, daughter and king all think they are choosing freely. Satan is moving them against God.
- Asked and granted — John had rebuked the king's sin, and a rash oath now cost him his life. Yet that life was never the king's to give.
And the king, [while] made very sorry, on account of the oaths and those lying at table with [him] would not break his word with her.
At Herod's birthday feast a rash promise meets a terrible request. The king who once enjoyed listening to John is now deeply sorry — and he orders the murder anyway.
Herod's sorrow was not mild. The verse calls him exceedingly sorry. Yet deep feeling and real repentance are not the same thing:
Herod was a man of extreme but superficial feeling. He heard John gladly, even though the prophet condemned the sin he was guilty of. We also read that he was sorry — "exceedingly sorry." He had realised what a cruel outrage he had committed himself to. The rich young ruler was sorry too when he refused the call of Jesus. But in neither man did the sorrow produce repentance. When Pilate sent Jesus to Herod he was glad, "exceedingly glad," to see Him. But the only result of that meeting was to show the hard cruelty of his nature. With all his sorrow, Herod killed the servant in Galilee. With all his gladness he mocked the Master at Jerusalem.
Herod built the trap himself, one word at a time, in front of his guests:
Herod, as seen in the Gospels, was a weak-minded, impressionable man. So the plain speaking of the prophet impressed him. The presence of his lords and captains at his feast excited him. The dancing of the daughter of Herodias before him and his guests carried him away in a whirl of pleasure. He had no self-control at all. He made the most extravagant promises. "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you," he said, adding no conditions. And to show this was not mere exaggeration, he backed his promise with oaths.
One writer sums up the whole scene in a single line:
The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and rather than break his promise has John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept."
Commentators differ on whether Herod was weak. Another writer sees the oath itself as the hook that caught him, and names who paid for it:
He was by no means a weak man. He would not have killed the Baptist just because Herodias or her daughter wanted it. But they trapped him through his superstitious regard for his oath. The man is blessed who "keeps his oath to his own hurt"; but Herod kept his to the hurt of another.
A door was still open. John's life was not the king's to give, and saying no would have cost Herod only his standing in the room:
The king was sorry. He had been trapped and brought to a point he had never meant to reach. Even now there was a chance to escape, because what she asked for did not belong to him. On the contrary, he was put in authority to do justice, and he should have protected the life of the innocent. But he had already committed himself to an unjust course. He had imprisoned John and kept him there. In the end his pride decided the matter. He had sworn to give, in front of all his noble guests. Rather than lose his assumed place of sovereign power, he would give away what belonged to God.
Herod's conscience was awake. That is what makes the verse so serious. A conscience can feel what is right and still refuse to bow to it — and then it can be led anywhere:
Here conscience is shown in a man who felt what was right and heard the word gladly for a time. But there was no repentance. He never submitted his soul to the conviction that passed for a moment through his mind — the conviction of what was true, just, and of God. So the enemy arranged the circumstances, and God allowed it, and Herod showed how worthless natural conscience is. He showed it towards the very person he had acknowledged as a prophet. Now everything was lost. One guilty hour at a banquet did it: the wish to please someone as bad or worse than himself trapped his weakness and tied his word. That is where natural conscience ends. Herod orders what he would never have thought it possible for him to do.
- Sorry — Herod's grief was real, but it produced no repentance. Sorrow that changes nothing leaves a man where he was.
- Trapped — His guests excited him and the dancing carried him away. He promised anything she asked, with no conditions, and sealed it with oaths.
- Bound — His regard for that oath caught him. He kept his word at another man's cost. Promises that come from the enemy are better broken than kept.
- Proud — A way out remained: John's life was never his to give. But rather than lose face before his guests, he gave away what belonged to God.
- Ruined — A conscience that feels the truth but never bows to it can be led into a crime the man himself would have called unthinkable. That is where natural conscience ends.
And immediately the king, having sent one of the guard, ordered his head to be brought. And he went out and beheaded him in the prison,
Mark moves straight from a banquet hall to a prison cell, where a guard takes John's life. Why does a faithful servant die at the word of a weak king, and why does God not step in?
The word for the man Herod sent has a history in the Old Testament. One reference work traces it and ends at this scene.
This word does not occur in the Old Testament except in the margin. In three places the text calls certain men "captain of the guard," and the margin calls them "chief of the executioners or slaughtermen" (Genesis 37:36; Jeremiah 39:9; Daniel 2:14)... In Mark 6:27 Herod Antipas called an executioner, or one of his guard, to behead John the Baptist.
Herod was not trapped. He held the authority that should have protected John, and he had every opening to refuse.
The king was sorry. He had been ensnared and brought to a point he had never meant to reach. Even then there was a way out, because what was asked was not his to give. On the contrary, he had been placed in authority to do justice and judgment, and he should have protected the life of an innocent man. But he had already committed himself to injustice by imprisoning John and keeping him there, and his pride settled the matter. In front of all his noble guests he had sworn to give, and rather than surrender his assumed place of sovereign power he gave away what belonged to God.
Herod treated his oath as the one thing he could not break. Another writer weighs that kind of promise.
The king, pleased by a dance, makes a rash promise, and rather than break his promise has John killed. It has been well said, "The devil's promises are better broken than kept."
Herod had listened to John and liked listening. At the decisive moment it made no difference.
Here we see conscience in a man who felt what was right and heard the word gladly for a time. But there was no repentance, no submission of his soul to the conviction that passed for a moment through his mind of what was true, just, and of God. As a result, the enemy managed the circumstances and God permitted them, so that Herod should show the worthlessness of natural conscience. He showed it toward the very person he had acknowledged as a prophet... There is the end of natural conscience. Herod orders what he would never have thought himself capable of doing.
Scripture gives the execution one short clause and no drama.
What a moment it must have been when the messenger entered John's dungeon and his life was taken. "He went and beheaded him in the prison." This is all the Spirit of God tells us about it. No doubt John met the messenger in the triumph of faith.
John did not get the peaceful old age a godly life seems to promise. One writer sets his death beside Elijah's.
The crown of martyrdom was for John, not the grey head, the earthly crown of glory, for he did not live out half his days... Like Elijah, in whose spirit and power he came, John too was hated by a Jezebel. Elisha saw Elijah disappear in a blaze of surpassing glory. But John's disciples had to rescue the bleeding and headless body of their master from the vultures and the dogs. These facts seem to contradict each other. The truth that explains them is this: God was not vindicating the righteous on the earth at that time, as He will yet do.
John went ahead of his Master in death as well as in ministry. One writer points to where Mark places the story.
The end of the faithful forerunner is recorded at this point, in the middle of the account of our Lord's rejection. Surely He too, in a little while, must drink the cup — but for Him mixed with wrath — that His faithful servant was tasting.
- Conscience. Herod felt the truth and enjoyed hearing it, but never bowed to it — and a conscience that is only stirred will collapse under pressure.
- Compromise. He had already begun with injustice by jailing John; the murder was the next step on a road he was walking, not a sudden fall.
- Command. Pride before his guests, not conviction, moved his lips — he gave away a life that was never his to give.
- Cost. Herod sent a guard, and John died unseen in a cell — Scripture tells it in one short clause.
- Crown. God was not settling accounts on earth that day. John received a martyr's crown instead of an old man's, one step ahead of the Master who would soon drink a deeper cup.
and brought his head upon a dish, and gave it to the damsel, and the damsel gave it to her mother.
John the Baptist's ministry ends as the last course of a king's banquet. What kind of world does this scene expose, and why did God allow His faithful messenger to end this way?
The word behind "platter" points to an ordinary piece of tableware.
Dish. Mark 6:25, 28. In the New Testament it is πίναξ, probably a wooden plate.
The dish itself seems to have been the daughter's own idea.
Compare the words of the mother with those of the daughter. It seems the daughter was the one who wanted the gruesome reward handed to her on a dish in front of all the guests. She also demanded the hideous gift at once. She was afraid the weak-minded king might regret his rash vow and take back his promise... In front of the whole gathering of rank and nobility, the shameless girl received her chosen reward. She carried the trophy of blood on the dish to her mother as her share of the feast.
One writer reads Herod's court as a picture of the whole world.
In the court of Herod we get a true picture of this world marked by corruption and violence. The lust of the flesh had led the ruler of the people into an infamous alliance with his brother Philip's wife. He could not answer the rebukes of a godly man, and a wicked woman influenced him. So he degrades justice by throwing a righteous man into prison. Only his fear of the people holds him back from murder. Then comes a day when the lust of the eyes finds a passing pleasure in the charms of a dancing girl. It leads the frivolous king into a rash oath. Finally the pride of life leads him to commit murder to keep up his shabby ideas of honour.
The king regretted it, and one writer shows he could still have stopped.
The king was sorry. A trap had caught him and brought him to a point he never meant to reach. Even then he could still escape, because what she asked for did not belong to him. On the contrary, he held authority to do justice and judgment, and he should have protected the life of the guiltless. But he had already committed himself to a course of injustice by imprisoning John and keeping him in prison, and his pride decided the matter. In front of all his noble guests he had sworn to give. Rather than lose his assumed place of sovereign power, he would give away what belonged to God.
The same writer sets Herod's reckless promise beside the Lord's answer when two disciples asked Him for whatever they wanted.
How moving was His reply after He questioned them: "You will drink the cup that I drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized, but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared." He claims no power to give in the kingdom He will receive in obedience to His Father's will.
The head could be carried out of the room; the memory could not be carried out of the conscience.
Was there no one there whose heart cried out against this horrible crime? Would the sight of that head not burn into Herod's conscience for the rest of his life? Could the girl or her mother ever get rid of the guilt of this enormous crime, pressed on them by the sight of that head?
Herod's later reaction to the reports about Jesus shows how the crime followed him.
Of what advantage is his crime to him? From now on it will always be his companion. He hears people speaking of Jesus and His miracles. "It is John," he says, "whom I beheaded; he is risen from the dead."... He wants to be rid of this vague terror. It had gripped him at the thought of meeting again the man he had put to death. So he wants to see Jesus, perhaps to kill Him too. Anything is better than uncertainty. But the uncertainty stays, despite everything. When Herod at last sees the Saviour, he can neither see His miracles nor hear Him. He meets on earth a silent Christ, whose voice he will not hear until later, when he will see Him as Judge.
John's faithful life ended in disgrace, and one writer explains why.
A woman killed him in disgrace, like Sisera the cursed Canaanite, and like Abimelech, the murderer of seventy of his brothers. Like Elijah, in whose spirit and power he came, John too was hated by a Jezebel. Elisha saw Elijah disappear in a blaze of glory. John's disciples had to rescue the bleeding, headless body of their master from the vultures and the dogs. One truth explains this contrast: God was not vindicating the righteous on earth at that time, as He will yet do.
John was the Forerunner, the messenger sent ahead of Christ.
The rejection and murder of the Forerunner is a solemn sign that, in due time, Herod will take his part in the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.
- The gift asked — a head on a plain wooden dish. The girl added her own touch: hand it over at once, in front of the guests.
- The gift given — Herod gave away what was never his. He held authority to protect the guiltless, and traded that duty for his good name.
- The gift kept — the head left the room, but the guilt stayed. Herod carried the crime until he stood before a silent Christ.
- The gift delayed — John's end was not God's failure. God was not vindicating the righteous on earth in that day. He will yet do it.