The Haunted Tyrant Text: Luke 9:7-9
Introduction: The Ghost in the Machine of State
Every tinpot dictator, every petty tyrant, every ruler who builds his throne on a foundation of his own ego, eventually has to deal with a ghost. For some, it is the ghost of a rival they eliminated. For others, it is the ghost of a promise they broke. But for all rulers who set themselves against the living God, the ultimate ghost is the one they cannot silence, the one whose whisper echoes in the halls of power long after they think the threat has been neutralized. That ghost is the Word of God, the persistent, living, active reality of Jesus Christ.
In our passage today, we find such a man. Herod Antipas, the tetrarch, a man who held the power of life and death in Galilee. He was a political animal, a Sadducee by convenience, which means he was a theological materialist. He didn't believe in spirits, or angels, or the resurrection. He was a pragmatist, a man of the "real world." And yet, when news of Jesus reaches his court, his carefully constructed materialist worldview begins to rattle and shake. The ghost of John the Baptist, a man whose head he had served up on a platter to please a dancing girl, begins to walk the halls of his conscience.
This is not just an ancient story about a superstitious ruler. This is a perennial picture of the conflict between two kingdoms: the kingdom of raw, autonomous power, and the Kingdom of the resurrected Christ. Herod represents the state's attempt to be its own god, to define its own reality, and to eliminate any voice that speaks a higher law. Jesus, even by rumor, represents the inescapable reality that true power, true authority, and true life are not found in palaces or with armies, but in the one whom God has sent. Herod's perplexity is the confusion of every godless system when confronted with the simple, undeniable power of the Gospel. He thought he had silenced the prophet, but now the Prophet's master has arrived, and the rumors are even more potent than the man he killed.
This passage shows us what happens when a guilty conscience meets the reality of the supernatural. It shows us the folly of thinking you can behead a movement of God. And it shows us that even a corrupt, murderous politician cannot escape the question that Jesus forces upon every man: "Who is this man?"
The Text
Now Herod the tetrarch heard of all that was happening, and he was greatly perplexed, because it was said by some that John had risen from the dead, and by some that Elijah had appeared, and by others that one of the prophets of old had risen again. And Herod said, “I myself had John beheaded, but who is this man about whom I hear such things?” And he kept trying to see Him.
(Luke 9:7-9 LSB)
The Tyrant's Perplexity (v. 7)
We begin with the reaction of the man in charge.
"Now Herod the tetrarch heard of all that was happening, and he was greatly perplexed, because it was said by some that John had risen from the dead" (Luke 9:7 LSB)
Herod hears. The word of God always gets out. You can't contain it. The disciples had been sent out, preaching and healing, and the fame of their master, Jesus, was spreading like wildfire. This is the great fear of every totalitarian system. They can control the media, they can control the schools, they can control the flow of official information, but they cannot stop the unofficial, viral spread of the truth. The kingdom of God advances by rumor and report, by testimony and transformation, and it reaches the ears of the powerful whether they want it to or not.
And what is Herod's reaction? He was "greatly perplexed." This is a strong word. It means to be thoroughly confused, to be at a complete loss. Why? Because the reports he was hearing did not fit into his neat, secular, materialistic grid. Herod was a Sadducee, which was the liberal, modernist party of his day. They were the theological sophisticates who had explained away the supernatural. No resurrection, no angels, no spirits. When you die, you're done. This is the creed of the modern secularist as well. It is a worldview designed to keep God in a box, or more precisely, to deny the existence of the box, the God, and anything outside our five senses.
But a guilty conscience makes a coward of us all, and it makes a mockery of our tidy philosophies. The first rumor that Luke records is the most potent one for Herod: "that John had risen from the dead." Herod had killed John. He had taken the prophet's head to settle a domestic squabble and to save face at a drunken party. He had exercised his ultimate power, the power of the sword, and he thought the matter was settled. But now, the man he thought he had permanently silenced is, according to the street, back. And he's not just back; he's back with power, doing miracles. This is Herod's worst nightmare. He is being haunted, not by a ghost he doesn't believe in, but by the consequences of his own sin. Sin has a way of resurrecting itself in our minds, even when we deny the resurrection of the body.
A Buffet of Bad Options (v. 8)
The confusion deepens as Herod considers the other possibilities floating around.
"and by some that Elijah had appeared, and by others that one of the prophets of old had risen again." (Luke 9:8 LSB)
The people were trying to make sense of Jesus, and they were reaching into their Bibles to do it, which is always a good start. The prophecy of Malachi said that Elijah would come before the great and awesome day of the Lord (Mal. 4:5). So, for some, Jesus was the fulfillment of that prophecy. Others, less specific, just knew that this man had the authoritative ring of the old prophets, men who spoke for God and did not trim their words to please the powerful. They were all trying to fit Jesus into a category they understood.
But notice what all these theories have in common: they all involve the supernatural. They all involve God breaking into history. Whether it was John, or Elijah, or another prophet, the consensus on the street was that this was not just another man. This was a man from the other side. This is the problem for every Herod. The people, when they are not beaten down by a cynical and godless education system, have a natural inclination to recognize the hand of God. They see a miracle and they don't say, "What an interesting, statistically improbable event." They say, "God is at work."
Herod is trapped. His own secular philosophy tells him that none of this is possible. But the reports are too widespread to ignore. And his own guilty conscience keeps pointing him back to the most terrifying option of all: that the man he murdered is back from the dead. This is what happens when you reject the truth. You are not left with nothing; you are left with anything. You are left with a buffet of bad options, superstitions, and fears, because you have rejected the one explanation that makes sense of it all.
The Tyrant's Question and Quest (v. 9)
Finally, Herod speaks, and his words reveal the turmoil within.
"And Herod said, 'I myself had John beheaded, but who is this man about whom I hear such things?' And he kept trying to see Him." (Luke 9:9 LSB)
Here is the confession, spoken out loud. "I myself had John beheaded." He says it to reassure himself. He is the man of action, the man who deals with problems decisively. He is reminding himself of his own power. "I did it. I was there. I saw the head. It was a real head. It was on a real platter. Dead men stay dead." He is trying to make his Sadducean creed work, but it's failing him. His statement is an act of defiance against the rumors, but it is a flimsy one.
And it immediately collapses into a question: "but who is this man...?" This is the question that Jesus Christ forces upon the world. You have to do something with Him. You cannot ignore Him. Herod thought he had dealt with the prophet problem by killing John. But in doing so, he only cleared the stage for the arrival of the Prophet's Lord. He traded a man who prepared the way for the Way himself. And this new man is even more perplexing. John performed no miracles (John 10:41), but this man does. Herod thought he had stamped out a brush fire, and now the whole forest is ablaze.
His response is telling: "And he kept trying to see Him." Why? It was not the seeking of a humble disciple. It was not the yearning of a repentant sinner. This was the seeking of a man who wants to get a handle on a problem. He wants to assess the threat. He wants to see Jesus for the same reason a man with a termite problem wants to see the exterminator, or perhaps, see the king termite himself. He wants to categorize Jesus, to understand Him, so that he can control Him, manage Him, or, if necessary, eliminate Him. This is the desire of the secular state. It wants to "see" Jesus, but only to put Him on a leash, to make Him a mascot for its own projects, or to put Him in a file cabinet labeled "religious curiosities." Herod will eventually get his wish. He will see Jesus on the day of His trial. And when he does, Jesus will give him nothing but silence (Luke 23:9). The time for parlor tricks and satisfying the curiosity of corrupt rulers will be over.
Conclusion: The Inescapable Question
Herod's problem is the problem of modern man. Like Herod, our culture has tried to behead the prophetic voice of the church. It has declared the supernatural to be a myth. It has built its political and educational systems on the Sadducean assumption that this material world is all there is. And for a time, it seems to work. The prophet is silenced, the church is marginalized, and the rulers can go about their business.
But the ghost always returns. The reality of Jesus Christ cannot be suppressed. He keeps showing up. He shows up in the transformed life of a neighbor. He shows up in the unexplainable joy of a suffering saint. He shows up in the crumbling foundations of a society that has rejected His law. And the question always comes back, haunting the halls of power and the quiet moments of the individual conscience: "Who is this man?"
You can try to answer it like the crowds did, with speculation. "He is a great moral teacher," like Elijah. "He is a voice for the oppressed," like one of the prophets. These are attempts to tame Him, to fit Him into our categories.
Or you can be haunted by Him, like Herod. You can be tormented by your sin, by the John the Baptist you have beheaded in your own life, whether through lust, or pride, or rebellion. You can be perplexed and afraid, seeking to "see" Jesus only to find a way to manage the guilt.
But there is a third way. It is the way of Peter, who, when asked the same question, answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." This is not an answer of speculation or of fear. It is the answer of faith. It is the answer that acknowledges that Jesus is not a ghost, not a prophet, not a problem to be managed, but the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth, the one who has conquered death for good.
Herod was perplexed because he was a guilty man trying to understand a holy God through a secular lens. That way lies madness. The only way to resolve the perplexity is to abandon the lens, confess the guilt, and bow the knee. The question is not, "Who is this man?" as though He were an object of our study. The real question is, "Who am I before this man?" Am I a Herod, trying to control Him? Or am I a disciple, ready to follow Him?