September 24, 2026 – Thursday of the 25th Week

Luke 9:7–9

                                                           H O M I L Y

          Herod Antipas, like his father Herod the Great—who ordered the slaughter of the children of Bethlehem at the time of Jesus’ birth—is a restless, troubled man.  He is king—or tetrarch—of Galilee, but a puppet king whose power is in reality very fragile, since the country is under Roman control.  He is deeply attached to his prerogatives, yet constantly torn by insecurity, always fearing that a true “King of the Jews” might come to dethrone him.  He is a weak man who would not have wanted to have John beheaded, but who did so to save face after making a foolish promise to the daughter of his concubine.  Likewise, he became an accomplice to Pilate in Jesus’s death out of fear of the Romans, even though he felt a certain fascination toward Jesus. He wants to see him, but out of mere curiosity.

 

          “John—I had him beheaded,” he said.  There were already two radically different types of men present there.  Standing before Herod—who is constantly torn by fear because he is attached to everything he possesses—or believes he possesses, or wants to possess—John is the embodiment of the free man, the utterly free man, who lives only for his mission as a forerunner, who steps aside when the Messiah appears and even sends his own disciples to him.  Because he is free, John is fearless, and can therefore openly rebuke Herod for his sin, even if he risks losing his head for it.  In reality, he is free because, being attached to nothing, he has nothing to lose.

          And if Jesus so fascinates Herod—who always wants to see him, both at this moment and at the time of his trial—it is because Jesus embodies that total freedom which Herod so sorely lacks.

          Very often in the Gospel, especially in the post-Resurrection appearances, Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; do not fear.”  Fear has no place in the believer’s heart.  And when fear is within us, it is because, like Herod, we are attached to something we do not want to lose or something we do not want to let go of. It may be a material object, but more often than not it is an attachment to the image we have of ourselves or the one we want to project, or it is all the little bits of power we wield over others as well as over our own destiny.

          Let us ask God to help us let go, to attain that poverty and purity of heart that set us completely free and deliver us from all the fears we may have—whether of God, of our brothers and sisters, or simply of life itself.

Armand Veilleux