There is a bracing clarity to today’s readings. They move from Paul’s call to holiness, through the psalm’s steady joy in God’s justice, to the Beatitude that blesses the persecuted, and then to the stark account of John the Baptist’s martyrdom. Together they teach that holiness is not a private hobby but public fidelity to truth and love—often costly, always fruitful.
“This is the will of God: your holiness” (1 Thess 4:1-8)
Paul does not leave God’s will to guesswork: “This is the will of God, your holiness” (1 Thess 4:3). In a world that often reduces moral questions to personal preference, Paul’s insistence feels countercultural: holiness involves the body, desire, and the way we treat one another. He urges believers to refrain from immorality, to honor the covenant of marriage “in holiness and honor, not in lustful passion,” and not to exploit another “in this matter” (1 Thess 4:3-6).
At heart, the apostle is guarding the dignity of persons. Lust reduces; love reverences. Exploitation—sexual or otherwise—turns people into consumable goods; holiness recognizes in each one a mystery entrusted by God. This is not prudishness. It is reverence for the image of God, a protest against any economy of desire that buys pleasure at another’s expense.
St. John Chrysostom, renowned for his pastoral wisdom, read Paul in precisely this key: practical holiness that sanctifies daily life, protects the vulnerable, and honors marriage. He denounced both the misuse of power and the misuse of persons. If the modern marketplace turns intimacy into a product, if screens train the gaze to take rather than to bless, Paul’s words ask for a revolution of honor: not just avoiding scandal, but learning to see—really see—each person as worthy of patience, boundaries, and care. “God did not call us to impurity but to holiness” (1 Thess 4:7). And this call is not mere rule-keeping; it is communion: “whoever disregards this, disregards not a human being but God, who also gives his Holy Spirit to you” (1 Thess 4:8). Holiness is possible because the Holy Spirit is given.
Herod’s party and the price of truth (Mk 6:17-29)
Against this backdrop, the Gospel reads like a moral X-ray. Herod knows John is “a righteous and holy man” and even likes to listen to him, yet he imprisons him (Mk 6:20). Herodias resents truth because it exposes her situation. A young woman is drawn into the dance of power and spectacle. An oath uttered for show becomes a death sentence because the fear of losing face proves stronger than the fear of sin (Mk 6:22-26).
The tragedy is not only the violence; it is the divided heart. Herod is intrigued by holiness but chooses image over integrity. He wants to hear the truth without obeying it. That tension is painfully contemporary. There are moments when careers, social standing, or even friendships seem to require moral compromise. The temptation is to keep options open, to “like to listen” to Christ, yet to postpone conversion. But some oaths should be broken. An unjust promise is not binding. Better to confess foolish words and repent than to lock a righteous person in prison inside one’s own conscience.
Chrysostom repeatedly warned that slavery to human opinion is a subtler bondage than chains. He called Christians to resist the theatre of reputation when it would cost fidelity. John the Baptist’s fidelity clarifies things: truth-telling is an act of love. He calls out Herod’s unlawful union (Mk 6:18) not because he enjoys condemnation, but because truth about love protects human beings from becoming props in another’s drama.
“Blessed are the persecuted” and the joy of justice (Mt 5:10; Ps 97)
The Beatitude that frames today’s Gospel is not a celebration of suffering for its own sake. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness” (Mt 5:10). The blessing rests on those who prefer God’s kingdom to self-protection. Psalm 97 explains why this can be a joyful path: “The Lord is king; let the earth rejoice… Justice and judgment are the foundation of his throne” (Ps 97:1-2). Reality is ultimately ordered by God’s justice, not by the whims of a court or the algorithms of attention. “Light dawns for the just, and gladness, for the upright of heart” (Ps 97:11). That dawn may be gradual, but it is sure.
For many, persecution looks like pressure to remain silent about truth, mockery for living chastely, loss of opportunities for refusing dishonest shortcuts, or the loneliness that follows a principled “no.” The psalm’s refrain, “Rejoice in the Lord, you just!” (Ps 97:12), is not naïve. It is the stubborn joy of people who have found a better King.
The forerunner’s passion and the shape of our witness
On this memorial of the Passion of Saint John the Baptist, the Church remembers the forerunner’s end—not as a morbid tale, but as a compass for discipleship. John’s whole life announced Christ: in the womb he leapt (Lk 1:41), at the Jordan he pointed to the Lamb (Jn 1:29), before Herod he bore witness to a moral order that protects love. His death underscores the cost of fidelity when power, pleasure, and pride conspire.
St. Ignatius of Antioch, on his way to martyrdom, wrote with a similar clarity of desire: “I am God’s wheat… that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.” Ignatius did not romanticize violence; he trusted that union with Christ is worth every lesser security. That same trust animates daily, quiet forms of martyrdom: choosing chastity in a hyper-sexualized culture; refusing to forward an image or a rumor that degrades someone; speaking truth to a friend about destructive choices; declining to profit from another’s vulnerability; taking the risk to protect a colleague. Holiness is not spectacle. It is sustained, Spirit-enabled fidelity.
Practicing holiness in an unholy economy
- Examine the economy of your attention. What you consume trains your desires. Curate your media so that your gaze learns to bless rather than to use (1 Thess 4:3-5).
- Honor your promises—but never protect an oath that does harm. If a commitment compromises integrity, repent of it rather than double down (Mk 6:26).
- Make space for truth to be spoken to you. Herod liked to listen but would not obey. Ask someone you trust to tell you where compromise has crept in—and receive it as mercy (Mk 6:20).
- Repair exploitation with generosity. Support ministries that protect the vulnerable, accompany survivors, and strengthen marriages and families (Ps 97:10).
- Anchor yourself in sacramental grace. Confession heals compromised hearts; the Eucharist conforms desires to the Lamb whom John announced (Jn 1:29; 1 Thess 4:8).
A final word of hope
Today’s Scriptures refuse cynicism. They do not deny the reality of pressure, manipulation, or even martyrdom; they expose them in the light of God’s kingship. Herod’s banquet ends in a tomb, but the story of holiness ends in a dawn: “Light dawns for the just” (Ps 97:11). The same Spirit whom God “gives” enables what God commands (1 Thess 4:8). The Beatitude is not a slogan; it is a promise: “for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:10). John the Baptist’s voice still points the way—toward the Lamb, toward integrity, toward joy that reputations cannot purchase and crowds cannot cancel (Mk 6:17-29). May we love truth enough to obey it and love people enough to tell it. And may our small fidelities, offered in the Spirit, become seed of the Kingdom that cannot be shaken.