Ian Paul remarks that, in preaching from the account of John the Baptist’s beheading, it is tempting to take an anthropocentric approach, in which:

‘It is…a game of consequences, [with] each stage of the drama unfolding tragically but with some inevitability into the next. What happens if you are born into a family whose patriarch is a ruthless but insecure tyrant (Herod the Great) who forged a regime from nothing and was a monumental builder, but achieved this by having his own wife and two sons executed? What happens when you live with bitter rivalry, having inherited both your father’s ambitious and his insecurity, which leads you into war and ultimate defeat? What happens when your sexual interests lead you to fall in love with your own relation (Herodias was Herod the Great’s grand-daughter by Mariamne)? What happens when you are at the same time disturbed and fascinated by a prophetic voice of criticism and cannot resolve this conflict in yourself? What happens when you blurt out impulsive promises which make you vulnerable to the scheming of others close to you? None of this ended well for Herod Antipas, who finally lost his power and his throne—but it ended worse for those around, including John the Baptist, who lost his head.’

Taken this, way, the story becomes a cautionary tale of unchecked impulses.  We may not be tyrants, but we all have the same impulses of ‘insecurity, pride, shame and failure’.  We are not John the Baptist, but we each need to hear the sober warning of the cost of integrity and faithfulness.

But what happens, asks Ian Paul, when we follow a theocentric approach; when we ask, What is God doing here?

Consider the context.  In ch 5 we have the healing of Jairus’ daughter and that of an unnamed woman.  Then, in ch 8,

‘he has to remind the disciples again of his provision in a feeding miracle done again just as he must touch the eyes of a blind man again before he can see more than people ‘as trees walking’.’

Just before the present narrative (Mk 6:7-13) is the account of the sending of the disciples in pairs to take the good news to the villages.  Their return is recorded straight after the John the Baptist/Herod account (Mk 6:30-31).

So what was God doing? –

‘God was continuing to be at work, by his Spirit, through his people called by Jesus to proclaim and enact the kingdom of God, so that others might be drawn to know him.’

Note the poingency of Mk 6:29 – ‘When John’s disciples heard this, they came and took his body and placed it in a tomb.’  It was not only John, but his whole movement that had been decapitated!

Terrible decaptitations (literal and metaphorical) take place from time to time.  Consider the attempt by the Germans, in WWII, to ‘decapitate’ Poland by executing both its Jewish population and its leaders.  Consider too the beheading of 20 Christian Copts by ISIL in 2015.

Mark is probably writing to Christians who were themselves facing severe persecution.  They might well have asked, What is God doing? –

‘The answer, Mark tells us through this narrative, is that God was still at work, bringing healing, deliverance, and spreading the good news of the kingdom.’

As for the Copts beheaded by ISIL:

‘It is reported that their mothers thanked ISIL for releasing the video of their execution, because it meant they could hear their sons’ last words: “Jesus is Lord”.’

One of those murdered was not an ethnic Copt, but a black African, probably from Ghana.  His name was Matthew Ayariga:

‘According to some sources, he was not originally a Christian, but he saw the immense faith of the others, and when the terrorists asked him if he rejected Jesus, he reportedly said, “Their God is my God”, knowing that he would be martyred.’

What of we ourselves? –

‘Can we imagine a time when the church in the UK might be ‘decapitated’, with our leaders removed and our institutional influence gone? That is the reality for many Christians around the world. If it does happen, we might find ourselves reading this passage again with renewed interest. And perhaps being like those who travelled everywhere, and in all the places they went proclaimed the good news of the kingdom to all they met, might not seem such a silly thing to do after all.’