Before us are verses 6–9:
But when Herod’s birthday was celebrated, the daughter of Herodias danced before them and pleased Herod. Therefore, he promised with an oath to give her whatever she might ask. And she, having been prompted by her mother, said: “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” And the king was sorry; nevertheless, because of his oaths and because of those who sat with him at the table, he commanded it to be given to her. (Matt. 14:6–9)
Saint John Chrysostom here reveals the multitude of sins committed by all those who desired the death of the one who was the greatest among those born of women. Chrysostom writes:
“A twofold transgression: first, that she danced, and second, that she pleased them to such an extent that murder became the reward for her performance. Do you see how cruel, how insensitive, how irrational Herod was? He bound himself by an oath while granting a young girl unlimited authority to request whatever she wished. When he saw the evil that resulted from this, the Evangelist says that he was grieved—even though it was Herod himself who had originally bound John. Why should he be sorrowful? Such is the power of virtue! Even among the wicked it is found worthy of admiration and praise.
How great was the hatred of Herodias! She ought rather to have admired John and shown him reverence, for he was protecting her from disgrace; yet instead she plotted his death, laid snares for him, and sought a diabolical reward.
‘And the king was sorry; nevertheless, because of his oaths and because of those who sat with him at the table, he commanded it to be given to her,’ says the Evangelist. But why were you not grieved by such an inhuman deed? If you feared the witnesses of a broken oath, how much more should you have feared the witnesses of such an unlawful murder?
Since I believe that many are unaware of the force of the accusation that led to this murder, I consider it necessary to explain it, so that you may clearly perceive the wisdom of the Lawgiver. What was the ancient law that Herod violated and that John so vigorously defended? It was the law that required the wife of a man who died childless to marry his brother (Deut. 25:5). Since death was an unavoidable evil, and the Lawgiver in all things took thought for life, the law commanded the surviving brother to marry the widow of his deceased brother and to give the first son born from that union the name of the deceased, so that his lineage might not perish.
If a man died without hope of leaving children behind—without this greatest consolation in death—the sorrow caused by death could scarcely be alleviated. Therefore, for those whom nature had deprived of offspring, the Lawgiver devised a means of consolation and decreed that the son born after the deceased should be regarded as belonging to him.
When children had already been left behind by the deceased, such a marriage was not permitted. But why, you may ask? The God who gave the law desired that kinship should be extended and that there should be greater opportunities for the establishment of close bonds among people. Why was it not permitted for an unrelated man to marry the wife of one who had died childless? Because in that case the child would not have been regarded as belonging to the deceased. However, when the child was born through the deceased man’s brother, this continuity appeared natural and unobtrusive.
Furthermore, an outsider had no obligation to restore the household of the deceased, whereas a brother, by virtue of kinship, possessed both the right and the responsibility to do so.
Herod, however, married the wife of his brother, who already had a daughter. For this reason John rebuked him, and he did so with all propriety, demonstrating not only boldness but also pastoral restraint.
Yet consider how thoroughly diabolical the entire scene was. First, it arose out of drunkenness and sensual indulgence, from which nothing good can come. Second, the spectators themselves were immoral men, while the one who hosted the banquet was more impious than all the rest.”
“Third, the entertainment itself was utterly senseless. Fourth, the girl through whom the marriage had become unlawful—and who ought to have hidden herself from public view because of her mother’s shameful conduct—appears boldly at the banquet. Casting aside all maidenly modesty, she surpassed even the most shameless of harlots.
The very occasion itself serves as a profound condemnation of this lawlessness. At the very time when Herod ought to have been giving thanks to God for having brought him into the world on that day, he instead dared to commit such acts of wickedness.
… So highly did Herod esteem his royal authority, and so completely had he surrendered himself to passion, that he effectively exchanged his kingdom for a dance.
Yet, unlawful though his conduct was, the woman was worse than all the others—the girl and the king alike. She devised every evil, she orchestrated the entire affair, although more than anyone she ought to have been grateful to the prophet. The daughter, out of obedience, participated in the wrongdoing: she danced, she demanded a murder, and Herod was ensnared in her net.
… Do you see how rightly Christ said: “He who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me” (Matt. 10:37)? Had Herodias’ daughter kept this commandment, she would not have transgressed so many laws, nor would she have committed this abominable murder.
Consider carefully the request itself: “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” Do you see how she has cast away every trace of shame and surrendered herself completely to the devil? She was fully aware of the dignity of the prophet, yet she felt no embarrassment. Rather, as though she were speaking of some delicacy to be served at a feast, she asks that this sacred and blessed head be brought to her upon a platter!
She does not even offer a reason for her demand—because she had none. She merely displays her desire that, for the sake of honouring her, evil should be inflicted upon another. She did not say, ‘Bring him here and kill him,’ for she could not have endured the boldness of John as he prepared for death. She feared hearing the terrible voice of the one being executed, for John would not have remained silent even before the sword. Therefore she says, ‘Give it to me here on a platter’; she wished to see that tongue silenced.
She desired not merely to free herself from rebuke, but to trample upon the one who lay fallen and to mock him. Yet God endured all this. He did not send lightning from heaven, nor did He consume that shameless face with fire. He did not command the earth to open and swallow up that wicked assembly. He allowed it in order to crown the righteous man all the more abundantly and to provide rich consolation for those who would later suffer injustice.
Therefore, let all among us who live virtuously and suffer violence at the hands of wicked people take heed. Even then God permitted that the man who lived in the wilderness, who wore a leather belt and a garment of camel’s hair—the prophet, indeed more than a prophet, the one than whom none greater had arisen among those born of women—should be slain; slain by a shameless girl and a corrupt adulteress; slain because he defended the divine laws.
Reflecting upon this, we too shall courageously endure whatever may befall us.
… Had Herodias not killed John for rebuking her, the extent of her transgression would never have been so clearly exposed. Christ’s disciples said nothing when Herod merely cast John into prison. However, once he put him to death, they were compelled to reveal the reason.
They wished to spare the adulteress from public disgrace and had no desire to expose the evil deeds of their neighbour. Yet when necessity forced them to recount what had happened, they disclosed the entire crime. And lest anyone begin to suspect that the execution resulted from some evil on John’s part, as had been the case with Theudas and Judas (Acts 5:36–37), they were compelled to make known the true cause of his death.
Therefore, the more you attempt to conceal sin as Herodias did, the more clearly you will expose it. Sin is not covered by adding sin upon sin, but by repentance and confession.
Observe also the remarkable impartiality with which the Evangelist narrates these events, even providing, insofar as possible, mitigating circumstances. Concerning Herod, he notes that he committed the crime because of his oath and because of those who sat with him at table, and that he was grieved. Concerning the girl, he says that she had been instructed by her mother and that she carried the head to her mother, as though to indicate that she was merely carrying out her mother’s command.
In this manner all righteous people grieve not primarily for those who suffer, but for those who commit evil; for those who do evil are themselves the ones who suffer most grievously. No real harm was done to John even then; rather, it was those who brought about his death who subjected themselves to destruction.”
Saint Hilary of Poitiers interprets this event in a mystical manner, applying its meaning to the destiny of the people of Israel. He writes:
“Through every seductive movement, the daughter of Herodias spread sensual delight, just as unbelief itself had spread amidst the worldly celebrations of Israel. And the people surrendered themselves to that unbelief. Through sins and worldly pleasures, the Israelites betrayed the gifts of eternal life. Thus the girl asks her mother—that is, the one who herself is swift to embrace unfaithfulness—to bring her the head of John, that is, the very glory of the Old Testament Law. For the Law, through the power of God’s commandments, exposed the unlawful union of the people of Israel.”
Saint Ephrem the Syrian records a tradition according to which Herod and Herodias used the occasion of the daughter’s dance to devise the murder. According to this account, Herod was to swear that he would grant any request, the daughter was to make her demand, and he, ostensibly constrained by his oath, would be compelled to fulfil it despite his apparent reluctance.
For this reason, Blessed Jerome writes:
“I find no grounds for excusing Herod on the basis that he carried out the murder reluctantly and with sorrow because of the oath he had sworn. It is entirely possible that he swore the oath precisely in order to prepare the means by which the murder was to be accomplished.
Furthermore, if he claims that he acted because of his oath, one must ask whether he would have acted in the same manner had the daughter of Herodias demanded the death of his father or mother. If Herod would have refused such a request, then he likewise ought to have rejected the murder of the prophet.
Fearing that Herod might eventually repent and become reconciled to his brother Philip, thereby bringing their unlawful marriage to an end, Herodias persuaded her daughter to demand John’s head immediately, while the banquet was still in progress.
Herod merely feigned sorrow because that was what those gathered with him at the feast expected to see. Indeed, the hypocrite and instigator of the murder chose to display grief upon his face while inwardly rejoicing. He justified his crime by appealing to the oath he had sworn, thus committing an impious deed under the appearance of piety.
The phrase ‘those who sat with him at the table’ indicates that he desired all those present to become accomplices in his crime and that this bloody dish should be brought into the midst of a luxurious and impious banquet.”
Blessed Theophylact offers an important observation, namely that the commandment of God always stands above an oath. Consider his interpretation:
“He was grieved because of John’s virtue, for even an enemy at war admires the virtue of his opponent. Nevertheless, because of his oath, he grants the girl an inhuman gift. Let us learn from this that it is sometimes better to break an oath than to commit lawlessness in the attempt to fulfil it.”
Adapted for the contemporary reader based on the interpretations of the Holy Fathers by Stanoje Stanković.
