John the Baptist emerges as a shining light, a model of absolute fidelity to God. He is not an action-movie hero, but a simple man, dressed in camel's hair, who lives in the desert and proclaims conversion. His life is a total "yes" to divine will, even when it costs dearly. Here it is: John is not afraid to speak the truth, even to a king. He seeks no compromise, he does not hide. He is the forerunner of Jesus, and his death prefigures the cross of the Lord. In him we see that true strength lies not in swords or palaces, but in spiritual courage, in saying "here I am" to God, whatever the cost. Herod, however, reflects our own frailties. How often do we find ourselves like him? Perhaps not by beheading prophets, but by betraying our values for a moment's approval, to avoid losing face in front of others, or for a passing whim? Herod "listened willingly" to John, and perhaps in his heart there was a seed of conversion. But that seed is suffocated by pride, fear, and the wine of the feast. It is a gentle yet profound invitation to examine our lives: where are we listening to God's voice, but then silence it for convenience? Where does our conscience prickle us, like Herod's, reminding us that Jesus is "risen" in our days, calling us to a new life?