“But on Herod’s birthday, the daughter of Herodias danced before them: and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath, to give her whatsoever she would ask of him. But she being instructed before by her mother, said: ‘Give me here in a dish the head of John the Baptist.’ And the king was struck sad: yet because of his oath, and for them that sat with him at table, he commanded it to be given. And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison. And his head was brought in a dish: and it was given to the damsel, and she brought it to her mother. And his disciples came and took the body, and buried it, and came and told Jesus.”
In great festivities in which the focus is entirely on Herod, the daughter of Herodias dances before him. While a mother that cares for her daughter’s soul brings her up in chastity and virtue: “As everlasting foundations upon a solid rock, so the commandments of God in the heart of a holy woman” (Ecclesiasticus 26:24), Herodias puts this girl forward to dance in front of an entire banquet. A woman’s display of virtue and upright love is a true spectacle: “Who shall find a valiant woman? Far and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her” (Proverbs 31:10), a display of one’s body in a theatrical setting is something that should make one’s hair stand on end: “The light of thy body is thy eye… If thy eye be evil thy whole body shall be darksome” (Matthew 6:22-23); “Turn away thy face from a woman dressed up, and gaze not about upon another’s beauty. For many have perished by the beauty of a woman, and hereby lust is enkindled as a fire” (Ecclesiasticus 9:8-9). Herodias, having a polluted idea of what love looks like, in turn does not love her daughter well: “The children of adulterers shall not come to perfection” (Wisdom 3:16), and subjects her to this shameful exhibition. Herod, delighted, then by oath extends an open offer for anything her heart desires: “Whatsoever thou shalt ask I will give thee, though it be half of my kingdom” (Mark 6:23), which is itself unwise: “But I say to you not to swear at all” (Matthew 5:34), but it also sparks the notion that there are layers to justice, and when an oath would bring about something impious or unloving, it should not be kept. Now, not having what one wants is misery, and this includes security in one’s possessions, for having all the riches in the world and being afraid of losing them instills the unhappiness of the thought of not having them. Herodias, fearing that Herod would come to his senses, potentially through the voice of reason that was St. John the Baptist, and see that their love was unjust and be reconciled to his brother, acts quickly through her daughter to manipulate Herod. Upon hearing the girl’s request, Herod is saddened, because a model of human goodness such as the Baptizer is a light to the soul: “He was a burning and a shining light: and you were willing for a time to rejoice in his light” (John 5:35), and even Herod, who was lost to all sorts of passions, could see through the mire of his faults what human flourishing truly looks like. The ruler, however, acquiesces, and commits an atrocity not just by killing John the Baptist, but bringing his head out in a bloody display before a party, and this shows a sort of domino effect of sin: Not controlling his desires, Herod succumbs to lust and luxury, and entrenched in these, he brings upon himself the guilt of murder: “The horseleech hath two daughters,” which are lust and avarice, “that say: ‘Bring, bring’” (Proverbs 30:15). Now, this shows the warped nature of sin, because love is like fire, and to add wood to the fire in acts of love only makes it burn all the brighter: “And the light of Israel shall be as a fire, and the Holy One thereof as a flame: and his thorns and his briers shall be set on fire, and shall be devoured in one day” (Isaias 10:17), the last part indicating that by throwing one’s sins into the furnace of merciful love, the love of Jesus consumes them all. However, sin, being a twisted, deformed expression of love, also burns hotter the more room it is given to operate, inflaming the passions with all that defiles the soul: “For wickedness is kindled as a fire, it shall devour the brier and the thorn: and shall kindle in the thicket of the forest, and it shall be wrapped up in smoke ascending on high” (Isaias 9:18). St. John the Baptist, then, is beheaded by those wrapped in shame, a champion of righteousness killed by rulers of wickedness, a herald of virtue struck down by a harbinger of vice, with God looking to reward His beloved not on earth but in heaven, when his justice will be manifest: “And the dead were judged by those things which were written in the books, according to their works” (Apocalypse 20:12). The disciples of John then come and bury him before going to tell Jesus, leaving behind even their beloved teacher for the sake of Christ, albeit by necessity, showing that God takes away very good things only for the sake of a deeper immersion into His love. St. John the Baptist can also represent the Law and all virtue, being a glorious fulfiller of both, who instructs his followers in goodness before they leap up and grasp the true prize, which is the love of Jesus. Thus does St. Paul say: “The law is not made for the just man, but for the unjust and disobedient” (1 Timothy 1:9), for through virtue one can “Prepare ye the way of the Lord” (Isaias 40:3), but truly it is only by encountering the love of Jesus, loving Him in turn, and walking with Him in love that the Christian fulfills their vocation to love.