1. Herod could no longer look upon himself as a religious man. Yet he went up to Jerusalem as usual to the Passover. Why not? The murder of John the Baptist weighed more heavily upon his conscience than the abduction of his brother's wife. But it was nothing to the world. Who cared what became of the Baptist? Only those few disciples who came by night and carried away his headless body for burial. If he could go to the Passover while living with Herodias there was nothing to prevent his going after the death of John. Herod went up to Jerusalem to keep the feast.
2. Now it happened that Jesus also had gone up to Jerusalem to that Passover. And while He was there He had been betrayed by one of His disciples into the hands of the Jewish authorities, and had been brought before the Sanhedrin, who had promptly condemned Him to death. Not having the power to put Him to death themselves, they sent Him to Pilate, the Roman governor, to have their sentence ratified and to have Him executed. But Pilate made some difficulty about it. It was beneath the dignity of a Roman procurator to put any man to death at the bidding of another court. The accused must be tried according to the laws of Rome. So Pilate examined Him, and announced to the Jews that he found no fault in Him. This, of course, did not satisfy the priests. They had condemned Him to death and they were determined that Pilate should put Him to death, whatever he thought of His guilt. Pilate was not a little perplexed. Fortunately he discovered that Jesus belonged to Galilee, which was part of the country over which Herod ruled. And Herod was at that very time in Jerusalem. Pilate sent Him to Herod.
3. When Herod was told that Jesus was coming he was “exceeding glad.” It was not the first time that he had heard of Him. When they first told him about the new Prophet who had appeared, Herod had said an extraordinary thing, “It is not a new prophet,” he had said, “it is John whom I beheaded: he is risen from the dead.” Herod had repented that rash speech many a day since then, and had wondered how he ever could have been betrayed into the folly of it. But when a man outrages his conscience, it frequently finds some way of making a fool of him. Some time after he had made inquiries about Jesus, not perhaps with any evil intention, more probably to satisfy a certain craving for rest of conscience that still remained with him. The Pharisees, however, advised Jesus to keep out of his way, and for once Jesus took their advice. Herod might think he had good motives, but what were they worth? “Go and say to that fox,” said Jesus. It was a word as plain as John had ever uttered.
Why “fox”? Why not panther or wolf?-either of which epithets, on the supposition that Herod meditated slaughter, would have been more appropriate. Yet, notwithstanding the wolfish profession, the reality may have been vulpine and no more. For a fierce, blustering tongue does not always betoken a ferocious spirit, is sometimes due to the craft of cowardice. A savage threat, instead of expressing an equally savage intention, may have been only a mask, behind which timid anxiety hides itself, hoping therewith to scare.1 [Note: S. A. Tipple, Days of Old, 161.]
It is a large part of our daily lesson and discipline and duty in this life to be able to give the proper characters, and to apply the proper epithets, to men and to things; and to do that at the right time and in the right temper. It is a large and an important part of every preacher's office especially to apply to all men and to all their actions their absolutely and fearlessly right and true names. To track out the wolf, and the serpent, and the toad, and the fox in the men in whom these bestialities dwell, and to warn all men how and where all that will end; no minister may shrink from that. All the vices and all the crimes of the tetrarch's miserable life, and all the weakness and duplicity of his contemptible character, are summed up and sealed down on Herod Antipas in that one Divine word that day: “That fox.”2 [Note: A. Whyte.]
4. So Herod had never seen Jesus till now. When he saw Him he was exceeding glad, “for,” says St. Luke, “he was of a long time desirous to see him, because he had heard concerning him; and he hoped to see some miracle done by him.” What miracle could he hope to see? Herod may not have named it to himself, but there was one miracle which he wished Jesus would work above all other miracles in the world. He wished that He would do some miracle by which he might recover his old religious life and the thrill with which he once heard John the Baptist-although he kept his sin. And when Jesus came he questioned Him in many words, “but he answered him nothing.” And in the bitterness of his disappointment, poor Herod with his soldiers set Jesus at nought and mocked Him, and, arraying Him in gorgeous apparel, sent Him back again to Pilate.
5. Is it the end of Jesus? No; but it is the end of Herod. Secular history tells us certain things that happened to him in later life, all following from that evil choice of his early manhood. But that is the end for him and for us. “Jesus answered him nothing.”
You know what reprobation is? This is reprobation-“Herod questioned Jesus with many words, but he answered him nothing.” That is reprobation. It is our reprobation begun when God answers us nothing. When, with all our praying, and with all our reading, and with all our inquiring, He still answers us nothing. Herod's day of grace had lasted long, but it is now at an end. Herod had had many opportunities, and at one time he was almost persuaded. At one time he was not very far from the Kingdom of Heaven. But all that is long past. Herod had smothered and silenced his conscience long ago, and now he is to be for ever let alone.1 [Note: A. Whyte.]
A few words will suffice to tell how Nemesis overtook Herod, even in this life. “By what things a man sinneth, by these he is punished,” and Herod was ultimately brought to ruin by the woman he had married, for whose sake he had murdered John.
Caligula, immediately after his accession, gave to Agrippa, the brother of Herodias, the tetrarchies of Lysanias and of Philip, who had, three years before, left Salome a temporary widow. The title of king was bestowed on the fortunate adventurer, who had once by his extravagance run into such difficulties that he was glad to accept the charity of Antipas, and an appointment as superintendent of the market at Tiberias. Herodias's envy and ambition were roused by her brother's advancement, and she gave her husband no peace until he took her to Rome to sue for the same title. Herod was intensely reluctant. Caligula had been closely attached to Herod's rival from the first, and in the meantime there had been added the raving madness which turned Rome into a shambles during the last two or three years of the young emperor's short reign. But the stronger will of Herodias once more prevailed, and the pair went up to Rome to sue for favours from the wild beast on the throne. The interview took place at Baiae, the favourite Roman watering-place, in the summer of 39 a.d. An envoy of Agrippa brought some dangerous charges of treason against Antipas, which the old fox, for all his cunning, was unable to confute. Caligula promptly banished him to Lyons in Gaul, and a few months later gave his tetrarchy to the accuser Agrippa. Herodias, as Agrippa's sister, was expressly excepted from the sentence, but she proudly declined to abandon the husband her ambition had ruined. They went together into Gaul, where, according to one authority, Caligula caused Herod to be put to death. Thus did God avenge His chosen.2 [Note: J. H. Moulton, Visions of Sin, 180.]
