Table of Contents
CHRISTIAN ETHICS CONFERENCE: Adultery
Date: 17th February 2008
Preacher: Rev. David McLaughlin
Bible Reference: Mark 6:14-29
In the annals of biblical history, few figures embody the raw courage of prophetic conviction as vividly as John the Baptist. His life, marked by ascetic devotion and unyielding proclamation of truth, culminated in a gruesome death that serves as a stark reminder of the cost of righteousness. Drawing from the Gospel of Mark, chapter 6, verses 14 through 29, this account chronicles the imprisonment, beheading, and burial of John—a narrative that not only exposes the moral decay of power but also imparts timeless lessons on sin, duty, and divine sovereignty. This article delves deeply into the events surrounding John’s martyrdom, exploring the motivations, the spiritual implications, and the enduring instructions for believers today.
The Historical and Biblical Context
To fully appreciate the tragedy of John’s death, one must first understand the political and personal landscape in which it unfolded. Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee, was no sovereign in the truest sense; he was a puppet ruler, installed by Imperial Rome to maintain order in a volatile region. Historical records paint him as a flamboyant hedonist, a man intoxicated by luxury and indifferent to ethical boundaries. His life was a tapestry of vice: unprincipled, vicious, and adulterous, he pursued pleasure with reckless abandon.
The catalyst for John’s confrontation with Herod was a scandalous affair born in the opulent courts of Rome. During a visit to the imperial capital, Herod became entangled in a sordid romance with Herodias, the wife of his brother Philip. Philip, recently deposed by Roman authorities, was no longer a ruling monarch, which perhaps emboldened the lovers. Overcome by lust, Herodias abandoned her husband, and Herod divorced his own wife to marry her. Upon returning to Palestine with Herodias on his arm, Herod brazenly issued a bill of divorcement to his former spouse and installed his new consort in the palace.
It was into this web of immorality that John the Baptist stepped as God’s appointed prophet. Fearless and forthright, John publicly denounced Herod, declaring, “It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother’s wife” (Mark 6:18). This was no vague moralising; John reproved Herod for his specific sins, including adultery and other evils as noted in Luke 3:19. Herod’s response was swift and severe: he cast John into prison, where the prophet languished for nearly a year before his execution.
The murder itself occurred on Herod’s birthday, a day intended for revelry. Amidst a lavish banquet attended by courtiers and dignitaries, the wine flowed freely, and the atmosphere grew charged with indulgence. Salome, Herodias’s daughter, performed a seductive dance—likely semi-naked—that ignited Herod’s passions. In a moment of intoxicated bravado, he vowed to her, “Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give it thee, unto the half of my kingdom” (Mark 6:23). Salome, coached by her vengeful mother, demanded the head of John the Baptist on a platter.
Though sorrowful and reluctant—torn by his oath and the presence of his guests—Herod complied, succumbing to his man-pleasing spirit. An executioner was dispatched to the dungeon, where John was beheaded in cold blood. His severed head, lifted by the locks and placed on a charger like a slab of meat, was presented to Salome, who carried it unflinchingly to her mother. The disciples of John, upon hearing of the atrocity, retrieved his corpse and laid it in a tomb (Mark 6:29).
This macabre scene haunted Herod. When reports of Jesus’s miracles reached him, his conscience stirred with guilt. Tormented, he confided, “It is John, whom I beheaded: he is risen from the dead” (Mark 6:16). This paranoia offers a window into Herod’s fractured psyche—plagued by moral madness, mental turmoil, and a servile fear of others’ opinions.
The Core Issue: Exposing Specific Sin
Why, then, was John imprisoned and ultimately beheaded? The answer lies not in his general preaching but in his pointed reproof of sin. John was a preacher par excellence, whose message centred on two pillars: repentance and the Redeemer.
First, repentance formed the cornerstone of his ministry. As Mark 1:4 records, “John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins.” He called people to a profound sorrow for sin—not mere confession, but a divorce from wrongdoing, a commitment to quit sin altogether. When Pharisees and Sadducees approached his baptism, he rebuked them sharply: “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance” (Matthew 3:7-8). Repentance, for John, demanded tangible evidence of change.
Second, John proclaimed the Redeemer. At the Jordan River, he beheld Jesus and declared twice, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). He recognised Christ as the fulfilment of Old Testament sacrifices, the eternal offering for sin. In John 1:33-34, he testified, “I saw, and bare record that this is the Son of God,” having witnessed the Holy Spirit descend upon Jesus during His baptism.
Remarkably, these messages—on repentance and redemption—drew no lethal backlash. Crowds flocked to John without demanding his silence. It was only when he targeted the specific sins of a specific couple—Herod and Herodias—that murderous intent arose. By declaring Herod’s marriage unlawful, John invoked the commandment, “Thou shalt not commit adultery” (Exodus 20:14). This exposure of adultery, intertwined with lust and divorce, proved intolerable.
Was John overstepping? Some might argue he should have confined himself to positive proclamations of Christ as Saviour and Judge. Yet, Scripture affirms his duty: “Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them” (Ephesians 5:11). John applied the full weight of God’s law to Herod’s transgressions, reminding him that “sin is the transgression of the law” (1 John 3:4). Far from meddling, John upheld divine standards, preventing the erosion of righteousness in high places.
Jesus Himself endorsed John’s approach. In Matthew 11, while John languished in prison and grappled with doubt, he sent disciples to inquire if Jesus was the Messiah. Christ’s response highlighted His miracles, affirming John’s earlier testimony. As the disciples departed, Jesus praised John to the crowd: “What went ye out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken with the wind?… A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet” (Matthew 11:7-9). John stood head and shoulders above Old Testament prophets, fulfilling his role as a reprover of sin.
Echoes in Church History and Contemporary Application
This prophetic boldness finds parallels in church history. Consider Samuel Davies, the 18th-century president of the College of New Jersey (now Princeton University). While fundraising in England, Davies preached before King George III and Queen Charlotte. As the royal couple whispered admiringly during his sermon, Davies paused, fixed them with a piercing gaze, and declared, “When the lion roareth, the beasts of the forest tremble; and when Jehovah speaks, the kings of the earth are to be silent.” Silence fell like a pall. Was Davies arrogant? No—he commanded respect for God’s word, much like John.
Today, the aversion to specific reproof persists. People tolerate general discussions of sin as an abstract evil, detached from personal conduct. Yet, when confronted with their own transgressions—be it adultery, covetousness, or deceit—they bristle with resentment. As John 3:19 states, “Men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.” Many cling to sin, unwilling to repent, echoing Herod’s unyielding heart.
Even in evangelical circles, a sentiment prevails: “Let’s just preach Christ.” But authentic gospel preaching cannot divorce Christ from the sin He came to conquer. As John proclaimed, Jesus is the Lamb who “taketh away the sin of the world.” The law reveals sin, as Paul discovered with the commandment against coveting (Romans 7:7). True love for Christ manifests in obedience: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15).
What of our own sins? Each of us harbours specific failings we prefer hidden. Yet, exposure demands repentance: naming them, confessing them, and seeking cleansing through Christ’s blood.
Enduring Instructions from John’s Martyrdom
The narrative yields profound applications. First, consider the peril of unrighteous vows. Herod’s rash promise to Salome, made in a drunken haze amid lustful revelry, bound him to murder. Though “exceeding sorry” (Mark 6:26), he prioritised his oath and reputation over righteousness. He should have repented publicly: “I spoke foolishly; John is innocent.” The principle is clear: No vow obligates one to break God’s law. If fulfilment demands sin, break the vow in God’s name. For instance, a Christian engaged to an unbeliever, defying the unequal yoke (2 Corinthians 6:14), must end the betrothal, lest it lead to lifelong regret.
Second, believers are immortal and invincible until their earthly work concludes. “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27). John endured prison and beheading only when his mission ended. God ordains the time, manner, and circumstances of our departure, even if horrific. As a personal anecdote illustrates, a near-fatal car accident—averted by inches—reinforces this: We are preserved until our service is complete. God’s work endures beyond us; none are indispensable.
Finally, John’s death prompts introspection: Are we prepared for eternity? Absent from the body means present with the Lord for the redeemed (2 Corinthians 5:8). John, despite doubts, maintained communion with God, facing his end with faith. If today were your last, could you echo that assurance?
In conclusion, John the Baptist’s martyrdom transcends a mere historical footnote. It challenges us to confront sin boldly, uphold divine vows wisely, and trust God’s sovereign timing. In an age of moral compromise, may we emulate John’s fearlessness, ever pointing to the Redeemer who conquers sin and death.
