Mark 6: 14-29

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’s name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead, and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”

For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” And Herodias had a grudge against him and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed, and yet he liked to listen to him. But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee.

When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests, and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” The king was deeply grieved, yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her.

Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body and laid it in a tomb.

Sermon Text

One of the most difficult aspects of life is the nature of our legacies. We have no control over what happens to something once we no longer have our hands on it. When you work for years in the same place, and then move to a new job or retire, you do not know if the person who follows after you will keep anything you started going. Will they respect it, grow it, revamp it? Or will they squander your hard work and leave you feeling like it was all for nothing.

Scripture gives an entire book for us to consider the frustration of life’s cycles. When we open up Ecclesiastes, a personal favorite of mine, we see page after page of reflection on how hard it is to see life go on beyond us. Whether it is our industry, our community, or our Church – the fact that at some point we have to hand off what we’re doing to another person can be difficult. The period of transition itself can be one of the worst aspects of these changes. When one era of our life ends and another begins it can be hard to accept. Whether that is a natural change in our life – kids leaving home (or being born,) a death of a loved one – or more social changes – a change in jobs, the end of a friendship, a move from one place to another – change is just no fun.

The reality persists, all the same, that the work we did is seldom completely abandoned or forgotten. It matters that we participate in the world around us and that we do good wherever we are. Maybe the organizational system we put in place in the office was changed once we left – but the need to be organized was likely imprinted on someone’s heart and mind. Maybe it seems that a friendship ended at the wrong time or for the wrong reasons, but the time spent with that friend and the lessons learned from this ending will carry on in both your hearts. Especially in the Church, in the work of God, it is only in extreme cases of actual harm that we see people’s work for the good of the Kingdom fall on fallow ground.

There is, however, a way that the work we do can be limited in its potential. When we are not thinking forward to what will happen after us, we inevitably begin to fall short of our goals. When we take up the mantle of a ministry worker and then hold onto it tightly, we risk smothering a fire that could be better fanned by multiple people working on it. We need to always be training up other people to take part in our work and ensuring that whatever we have begun will not be halted when we are no longer able to do it for one reason or another.

We are blessed sometimes that God provides a clear succession of help and leadership through the Spirit’s work in our lives. The scripture we read today reports, almost as an afterthought, the death of John the Baptist. Why is it that this central figure in the Gospels killed off screen? Because there was already a successor in his prophetic ministry, and more than that the end goal of that prophetic ministry. Christ was baptized by John, beginning his public ministry, and in that baptism the focal point of God’s work shifted and expanded in a way that none but God could have ever dreamed.

John was lucky that this transition would happen with our without his input, you were not about to limit what God was doing in something this major. Yet, all the same, we see in John’s reaction to Christ’s ministry certain hallmarks that are indicative of our own approaches to transitions. Reactions, neither good nor bad, but that all the same demonstrate how difficult it can be to hand over our roles from one person to another.

Christ’s public ministry was met with John making a clear statement, “He must increase, and I must decrease,” in other words he saw that the Messiah had come and the need to proclaim his work was no longer the most important thing he could do. He had to step aside so that Christ could be unimpeded in his ascent in ministry. Yet, John quickly grew anxious. This new prophet was not acting like he expected. For a Messiah and a prophet greater than even Moses, Jesus was not taking down Rome or establishing a new, vibrant kingdom within Judah. John’s anxiety bubbled up until he finally asked point-blank, “Are you the Messiah, or should we wait for another?” John was confident in handing off his work, until Jesus started doing it differently than he would have.

Jesus would reassure John that the work of the Gospel was being done, that he need not worry. Though we do not have John’s response written down, it is fair to say that John was content with this answer. He continued to preach a return to righteousness, and he continued to point the finger toward Jesus as the one who not only succeeded his ministry, but exceeded it. John was able to go confidently to the headsman because he had seen that he had handed off his work and trusted that God would do something with it. John secured an eternal legacy by acknowledging his role as a forerunner.

I do my best to model my ministry off of John the Baptist. While I am with a congregation we work hard to do the work of God, but I know that there is always another minister down the line who will take up the work when I am gone. I pray that they will always be better than me and pave a new and exciting way for any Church that I am involved in. If my ministry is not lived with the next minister in mind, then I will only ever fail the churches I serve. Once I’m gone, hopefully a while from now, things will change, but I want to be able to hand over more things than I have to end. Legacy matters in the impact that is left, not in the name attached to the work done.

In our own ministries, we should not have one person who does anything, there should always be at least two. One person can lead, but another needs to be supporting them and learning from them. Like Elijah and Elisha, mantles need to be passed on if we want the work we do to really flourish. We need to conduct our business so nothing is ever dependent on individuals – the whole Church must be accountable to its own ministry.

I ask that we all be in prayer, whether we are thinking about our personal lives, our work in the Church, or any aspect of life. Are we preparing the way for the people who will come after us? Are we teaching others to do what we can? Have we included the next generation of workers in our lives, in our work, so they can continue on what we have begun? If we cannot answer yes to these simple questions, we must repent of it quickly. There is much to be done, more than we could ever do in our lifetime. We must cherish the time we have now to get it done, we must pass on what we know to others that they may continue the work after we are gone, and we must rejoice in the transitions life sends our way.

There is great fear to be found in transition, in change, but there is also untold opportunity. Let God lead you to joy, that like John we might be able to find the time when we can say aloud, “I must decrease, that you may increase.” Lord, let us build our legacies so they may be fully enjoyed by those after us, and let us do so now and not wait until it is too late.