If I am honest, I am less rattled by the Herod of Matthew’s infancy narrative. That Herod the Great fits a relatively stock narrative: a Machiavellian tyrant who sacrifices innocent children in a vain effort to crush future political opposition. I hate that Herod, but I get him. That story could easily fit a news feed at the bottom of my television.
Mark’s Herod – Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee and the son of Herod the Great – is a tad more complicated. Yes, this story is again drenched in the blood of innocents (a consistent theme in gospel stories involving Herod, from the Tower of Siloam to the Passion). But this Herod is not without moral awareness. He “knows John to be a righteous and holy man”; he even enjoys listening to the Baptist’s jeremiads. Herod’s religious sensibilities veer toward the superstitious, yet he shares the growing Jewish belief in resurrection. Perhaps what worries me the most is that Herod makes a very bad decision out of temptations that afflict me as well – what St. Ignatius of Loyola describes in the Spiritual Exercises as “honors, riches, and pride.” Even though he does not wish to kill John, Herod fears losing honor among the “leading men of Galilee”; reneging on a boastful oath would undermine his social status as a political “big man”; his celebratory banquet reeks of ostentatious wealth. He created a social situation in which he had “no other choice” than to kill John the Baptist.
But this, of course, is a rationalization. Herod stood at the apex of a social structure of sin that could not tolerate the prophetic challenges of John the Baptist’s of the world. In my own life, I, too, can justify many things from the place where I stand, or the prestige I need to protect, or my fears of losing face in front of family, friends, or colleagues. But this does not vacate my ethical and spiritual responsibility. For Ignatius, we may not always act out of a God-centered interior freedom, but we are still responsible moral agents.
Today we celebrate the feast day of the martyred “son of Ignatius,” the early Jesuit Paul Miki, along with two other Japanese Jesuits and 23 lay companions. Having left his own wealthy family to convert to Christianity, Paul Miki faced an ultimatum from Tokugawa Hideyoshi, the most powerful feudal lord in 1590s Japan. Hideyoshi exemplified the honors, riches, and pride that could have drawn Paul and his Christian companions to apostatize their faith. But instead they chose Christ’s standard of humiliation, poverty, and self-abnegation in faithful service to their crucified Lord. In doing so, they exemplified today’s gospel acclamation: “Blessed are they who have kept the word with a generous heart and yield a harvest through perseverance.” St. Paul Miki and Companions, pray for us.
Jay Carney
I came to Creighton in 2011 and teach a wide range of classes here, from freshman theology through graduate seminars in Christian spirituality. My research engages questions of reconciliation, theology of sport, and World Christianity, especially Catholicism in modern Africa.
I am married with four children in secondary school and college. My wife Becky is a remarkable soulmate and friend, and our children have given both of us much love and laughter (and, of course, a few wrinkles). I grew up in the Washington, DC area and have also lived in Wisconsin, North Carolina, Arkansas, and Uganda. In my spare time, I enjoy reading, running, cycling, soccer, food, fellowship, and listening to music of all genres.
Writing Collaborative Ministry reflections is humbling…I’ve gained newfound respect for the homilist’s task! I feel that I am preaching to myself as much as anyone else. It’s wonderful to know that so many people are walking together as disciples of Jesus Christ. Thank you for your prayers!
