The Applause of Heaven - Max Lucado [39]
That goes for children of the King, too.
Next time I eat, I think I'll tuck my napkin in my collar.
Blesssed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness ...
CHAPTER 16
THE DUNGEON
OF DOUBT
FT e was a child of the desert. Leathery face. Tanned skin. Clothing of animal skins. What he owned fit in a pouch. His walls were the mountains and his ceiling the stars.
But not anymore. His frontier is walled out, his horizon hidden. The stars are memories. The fresh air is all but forgotten. And the stench of the dungeon relentlessly reminds the child of the desert that he is now a captive of the king.'
In anyone's book, John the Baptist deserves better treatment than this. After all, isn't he the forerunner of the Christ? Isn't he a relative of the Messiah? At the very least, isn't his the courageous voice of repentance?
But most recently that voice, instead of opening the door of renewal, has opened the door to his own prison cell.
John's problems began when he called a king on the carpet.
On a trip to Rome, King Herod succumbed to the enticements of his brother's wife, Herodias. Deciding Herodias was better off married to him, Herod divorced his wife and brought his sister-in-law home.
The gossip columnists were fascinated, but John the Baptist was infuriated. He pounced on Herod like a desert scorpion, denouncing the marriage for what it was-adultery.
Herod might have let him get away with it. But not Herodias. This steamy seductress wasn't about to have her social climbing exposed. She told Herod to have John pulled off the speaking circuit and thrown into the dungeon. Herod hemmed and hawed until she whispered and wooed. Then Herod gave in.
But that wasn't enough for this mistress. She had her daughter strut before the king and his generals at a stag party. Herod, who was as easily duped as he was aroused, promised to do anything for the pretty young thing in the G-string.
"Anything?"
"You name it," he drooled.
She conferred with her mother, who was waiting in the wings, then returned with her request.
"I want John the Baptist."
"You want a date with the prophet?"
"I want his head," replied the dancer. And then, reassured by a nod from her mother, she added, "On a silver platter, if you don't mind."
Herod looked at the faces around him. He knew it wasn't fair, but he also knew everyone was looking at him. And he had promised "anything." Though he personally had nothing against the country preacher, he valued the opinion polls much more than he valued John's life. After all, what's more important-to save face or to save the neck of an eccentric prophet?
The story reeks with inequity.
John dies because Herod lusts.
The good is murdered while the bad smirk.
A man of God is killed while a man of passion is winking at his niece.
Is this how God rewards his anointed? Is this how he honors his faithful? Is this how God crowns his chosen? With a dark dungeon and a shiny blade?
The inconsistency was more than John could take. Even before Herod reached his verdict, John was asking his questions. His concerns were outnumbered only by the number of times he paced his cell asking them. When he had a chance to get a message to Jesus, his inquiry was one of despair:
"When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him, Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"'
Note what motivated John's question. It was not just the dungeon or even death. It was the problem of unmet expectations -the fact that John was in deep trouble and Jesus was conducting business as usual.
Is this what messiahs do when trouble comes? Is this what God does when his followers are in a bind?
Jesus' silence was enough to chisel a leak into the dam of John's belief. "Are you the one? Or have I been following the wrong Lord?"
Had the Bible been written by a public relations agency, they would have eliminated that verse. It's not good PR strategy to admit that one