Here's a nugget I picked up from a substack:
Mark 6:21-28
"And when a convenient day was come, Herod made a supper for his birthday, for the princes, and tribunes, and chief men of Galilee. And when the daughter of the same Herodias had come in, and had danced, and pleased Herod, and them that were at table with him, the king said to the damsel: Ask of me what thou wilt, and I will give it thee. And he swore to her: Whatsoever thou shalt ask I will give thee, though it be the half of my kingdom. Who when she was gone out, said to her mother, What shall I ask? But she said: The head of John the Baptist. And when she was come in immediately with haste to the king, she asked, saying: I will that forthwith thou give me in a dish, the head of John the Baptist. And the king was struck sad. Yet because of his oath, and because of them that were with him at table, he would not displease her: But sending an executioner, he commanded that his head should be brought in a dish. And he beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head in a dish: and gave it to the damsel, and the damsel gave it to her mother."
Context: John was in prison because Herodias had been the wife of Herod's half-brother, and John had accused him of transgressing the Law. Herodias was none too pleased. Anyway ...
The film Jesus of Nazareth (1977) presents a weak and louche Herod stirred to lust by Salome’s lascivious dance.
Oscar Wilde’s Salome goes even further, lewd and vicious – her dance a vehicle for her revenge on John because he resisted her unwelcome advances – a horrified Herod commands his guards to kill her by crushing her with their shields.
So at best Salome is a nubile temptress, at worst a sexual predator with murder in mind.
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What the common, popular and somewhat salacious accounts overlook is the reference to the daughter of Herodias as a 'damsel' (Mark 6:22 and 28, Matthew 14:11). The Greek is κοράσιον (korasion) and, notably, is a diminutive, which mustn’t be overlooked, but usually is. D.B. Hart offers a note on this very subject:
"The word κοράσιον is a diminutive form of κόρη (kore), "girl," which would probably be used most properly of a child or young maiden. Though Herodias’s daughter (Salome) is traditionally depicted (in keeping with a certain "orientalist" cliché) as a young woman who beguiles Herod with a salacious dance, the story as related in the Gospels may well be more horrible: an innocent little girl charms Herod by dancing about among his guests, winning an extravagant promise from the king, and then shockingly makes the monstrous request her mother has placed in her mouth."
This single word – κοράσιον – makes a great deal of difference in how we understand the text. Gone are all the seductive flourishes. What’s left is a little girl being corrupted by the adults in her life.
Her "request" is not hers, but her mother’s. A child was being used as a vehicle for vengeance.
As the story stands in this light, it provides a counterpoint to Jesus’ words and actions where children were concerned:
"And he took a child, and put him in the midst of them; and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me." (Mark 9:36-37)
"And they were bringing children to him, that he might touch them; and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it he was indignant, and said to them, "Let the children come to me, do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands upon them. (Mark 10:13-16; cf Matthew 19:13-15)
And more damning still:
"Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened round his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea… "See that you do not despise one of these little ones; for I tell you that in heaven their angels always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven…" (Matthew 18:5-6, 10)
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"Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)
This should rightly raise a hand against all pretensions to sophistication, all claims of being – intellectually, spiritually, gnostically, ascetically – somehow more discerning and better attuned to the mind of God than the manifold faithful, the hoi polloi, (yes, I know 'hoi' means 'the') is nothing more than pride and vainglory.
"Humility is the basis, the soil (as the word implies) – from which everything else – everything else – grows in the life in Christ."
(A.H. Hart)
This is somewhat paradoxical. Inevitably, we adults will have acquired some experience of life, and "humbling ourselves like children" is not to be misconstrued as a silly, vain attempt to get the genie back in the bottle, to recover a 'lost innocence', or an invitation to see the world through rose-coloured spectacles. Least of all Panglossian optimism, or by 'thinking lovely thoughts.'
On the other hand, Hope is one of the three theological virtues – so if you love your neighbour and believe in hell, you must hope that no-one is there and have faith that all are saved.
+++
Another paradox: To acquire the humility of a child is to nurture a deepening awareness of truly how far from hearing, knowing and living in accordance with God we are. With the daily renewal of that realisation ("Lord, have mercy" is the 'backbone' of virtually every genuine prayer), we discover – again, paradoxically – how near to us God really is, and we in Him. Children believe in miracles – we have taught ourselves not to, but then we are wise in the ways of the world.
As Bob Dylan put it: "I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now."
Mark 6:21-28
"And when a convenient day was come, Herod made a supper for his birthday, for the princes, and tribunes, and chief men of Galilee. And when the daughter of the same Herodias had come in, and had danced, and pleased Herod, and them that were at table with him, the king said to the damsel: Ask of me what thou wilt, and I will give it thee. And he swore to her: Whatsoever thou shalt ask I will give thee, though it be the half of my kingdom. Who when she was gone out, said to her mother, What shall I ask? But she said: The head of John the Baptist. And when she was come in immediately with haste to the king, she asked, saying: I will that forthwith thou give me in a dish, the head of John the Baptist. And the king was struck sad. Yet because of his oath, and because of them that were with him at table, he would not displease her: But sending an executioner, he commanded that his head should be brought in a dish. And he beheaded him in the prison, and brought his head in a dish: and gave it to the damsel, and the damsel gave it to her mother."
Context: John was in prison because Herodias had been the wife of Herod's half-brother, and John had accused him of transgressing the Law. Herodias was none too pleased. Anyway ...
The film Jesus of Nazareth (1977) presents a weak and louche Herod stirred to lust by Salome’s lascivious dance.
Oscar Wilde’s Salome goes even further, lewd and vicious – her dance a vehicle for her revenge on John because he resisted her unwelcome advances – a horrified Herod commands his guards to kill her by crushing her with their shields.
So at best Salome is a nubile temptress, at worst a sexual predator with murder in mind.
+++
What the common, popular and somewhat salacious accounts overlook is the reference to the daughter of Herodias as a 'damsel' (Mark 6:22 and 28, Matthew 14:11). The Greek is κοράσιον (korasion) and, notably, is a diminutive, which mustn’t be overlooked, but usually is. D.B. Hart offers a note on this very subject:
"The word κοράσιον is a diminutive form of κόρη (kore), "girl," which would probably be used most properly of a child or young maiden. Though Herodias’s daughter (Salome) is traditionally depicted (in keeping with a certain "orientalist" cliché) as a young woman who beguiles Herod with a salacious dance, the story as related in the Gospels may well be more horrible: an innocent little girl charms Herod by dancing about among his guests, winning an extravagant promise from the king, and then shockingly makes the monstrous request her mother has placed in her mouth."
This single word – κοράσιον – makes a great deal of difference in how we understand the text. Gone are all the seductive flourishes. What’s left is a little girl being corrupted by the adults in her life.
Her "request" is not hers, but her mother’s. A child was being used as a vehicle for vengeance.
As the story stands in this light, it provides a counterpoint to Jesus’ words and actions where children were concerned:
"And he took a child, and put him in the midst of them; and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me." (Mark 9:36-37)
"And they were bringing children to him, that he might touch them; and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it he was indignant, and said to them, "Let the children come to me, do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands upon them. (Mark 10:13-16; cf Matthew 19:13-15)
And more damning still:
"Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened round his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea… "See that you do not despise one of these little ones; for I tell you that in heaven their angels always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven…" (Matthew 18:5-6, 10)
+++
"Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)
This should rightly raise a hand against all pretensions to sophistication, all claims of being – intellectually, spiritually, gnostically, ascetically – somehow more discerning and better attuned to the mind of God than the manifold faithful, the hoi polloi, (yes, I know 'hoi' means 'the') is nothing more than pride and vainglory.
"Humility is the basis, the soil (as the word implies) – from which everything else – everything else – grows in the life in Christ."
(A.H. Hart)
This is somewhat paradoxical. Inevitably, we adults will have acquired some experience of life, and "humbling ourselves like children" is not to be misconstrued as a silly, vain attempt to get the genie back in the bottle, to recover a 'lost innocence', or an invitation to see the world through rose-coloured spectacles. Least of all Panglossian optimism, or by 'thinking lovely thoughts.'
On the other hand, Hope is one of the three theological virtues – so if you love your neighbour and believe in hell, you must hope that no-one is there and have faith that all are saved.
+++
Another paradox: To acquire the humility of a child is to nurture a deepening awareness of truly how far from hearing, knowing and living in accordance with God we are. With the daily renewal of that realisation ("Lord, have mercy" is the 'backbone' of virtually every genuine prayer), we discover – again, paradoxically – how near to us God really is, and we in Him. Children believe in miracles – we have taught ourselves not to, but then we are wise in the ways of the world.
As Bob Dylan put it: "I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now."
