One of the Great Old Stories
A sermon by Jamie Howison on Jonah 3:1-10 and Mark 1:14-20
There are two points of intersection between our readings tonight, the first and more obvious one being the call to repentance; literally to turn around and head in a new direction. That’s seen in the decree of the King of Nineveh, that the whole of the city—men, women, children, and even the animals—are to put on sackcloth and observe a total fast as a sign of the city’s repentance, and also in the words of John the Baptist: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
And if you consider not just these ten verses from the book of Jonah but rather the whole of that short biblical book, there is a strong connection to the story of the calling of the first disciples from the gospel reading. That story as told by Mark is in his typically clipped and simple style. Jesus is walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee when he comes across the brothers Simon and Andrew, and he says to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And just like that, they do. Next it is on to James and John, who Jesus also calls to follow him, which they do. No further description of things that might enlighten the reader as to why these fishermen were so prepared to just drop everything and follow, but maybe what Mark wants to emphasize is the compelling nature of the presence of Jesus? We don’t know, of course, but what the reader does know is that these four fishermen have heard a call and have dared to rise and respond to it.
And then there’s the tale of the prophet Jonah, which is told in fast-paced style meant to be read or heard in one sitting, in the manner of any good short story. Most people think of Jonah and the whale as being the most memorable piece, and I suppose in its own way it is. But what is really striking here is the upside-down nature of it all, in which the purported hero—the Israelite prophet Jonah—is a bit of a grim and rather unlikeable character—while the Gentile sailors are compassionate and the despised enemy Ninevites are responsive to God’s message to them. Therein lies the heart of what this book is trying to convey.
The book opens with God placing a call upon Jonah:
Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying, ‘Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.’ But Jonah set out to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.
Jonah the son of Amittai appears briefly in the 2nd Book of Kings, where he proclaims that even though the Northern Kingdom of Israel was marked by all manner of abuses and idolatry, God was faithful and would yet restore the kingdom to its former greatness; something that in fact does not happen. As Cory Driver comments, “outside of the short book that bears his name… Jonah’s prophetic career… is based entirely upon prophesying national greatness for an unrepentant country. As a prophet, Jonah was an unconditional Israelite nationalist.”
This perhaps accounts for the way in which the anonymous writer of the book of Jonah portrays the prophet, namely as one who cannot bear to even imagine God bringing a message to Nineveh. Nineveh, you see, was the capital of the enemy Assyria; a nation that posed a dire threat to Israel. Deciding that he knows better than God, Jonah boards a ship headed for Tarshish in southern Spain, which is about as far a destination as Jonah could have selected. That’s like being called to go to Ottawa, and then boarding the first available flight to Thailand! That’s how distant—and exotic—Tarshish would have been.
Ah, but the will of God will not be so easily thwarted, and so God brings a mighty storm upon the sea. The terrified sailors cry out to their various gods, throw what they can into the sea to lighten the load, and battle fiercely against the storm. And where is Jonah? Sound asleep in the hold of the ship! “The captain came and said to him, ‘What are you doing sound asleep? Get up, call on your god! Perhaps your god will spare us a thought so that we do not perish.’”
Close to giving up, the sailors cast lots to determine who is the cause of this mess, and the lot fell upon Jonah. He confesses that he is an Israelite and that he is fleeing from the call of God; something which strikes terror into their hearts. Jonah tells them to throw him into the sea in order that the storm may stop… but they just buckle down and do their best to row the ship toward shore. That’s a moment when the non-Israelite outsiders are shown in a very positive light indeed! When they eventually do capitulate and toss the sorry prophet overboard, the sea is immediately calm. “Then the men feared the Lord even more, and they offered a sacrifice to the Lord and made vows.” It is a clear turning toward God by these Gentile sailors, which the reader is meant to notice.
This is when the big fish appears to swallow Jonah, who then spends three days in its belly. That’s the one point in the story where the reader is to feel some compassion for the guy, and the whole of the second chapter is taken up by his prayer—a psalm-like piece of poetry in which he laments his sorry state, affirms the greatness of God, vows his repentance, and ends by proclaiming “Deliverance belongs to the Lord!” At that point the fish spits him up on the land, and once again the call is placed upon him: “The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time, saying, ‘Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you.’”
That’s where today’s reading kicks in, as Jonah makes his way into the city, and pronounces his message of God’s judgement on the Nineveh. For a guy who has just been in the belly of a fish praying his great prayer of repentance, he doesn’t seem much transformed from his old Israelite nationalist attitude, for as soon as he realizes that the King of Nineveh has heard the message and is responding to it, he begins to sulk. And then this:
When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways, God’s mind was changed about the calamity that he had said would be brought upon them; and God did not do it.
Well, that puts Jonah right off the edge, as he goes into some real drama, saying to God that God’s graciousness is just too much for any self-respecting prophet to stomach: “And now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.” Oh Jonah, please…
But his drama only deepens, as Jonah trudges up a hill overlooking the city and sits down to watch, apparently vaguely hopeful that God will yet bring some wrath down on the Ninevites. At this point God causes a castor bean plant to grow up behind Jonah, providing him some shade from the sun. The text comments, “So Jonah was very happy about the bush,” which is the only time in the whole book he’s said to be happy about anything. In short order God sends a worm to kill the plant, and Jonah is so miserable about it that he again goes all dramatic, saying, “It is better for me to die than to live.” Come on Jonah, God says. You’re that upset about this bush? “Yes, angry enough to die.” Pure nonsensical drama, Jonah. You’re that worked up about a bush? Should I then not be concerned about the hundred and twenty thousand people who live in the city, “who do not know their right hand from their left?” And then this lovely little addition to the sentence, which is the last line in the story: “and also many animals?”
What with its compassionate sailors, giant fish, a repentant king of Nineveh, and Jonah swooning around in his dramatic misery, I believe the whole story was written to be told and retold with a smile. It is a comic story, but also one that makes a striking point. This is how Cory Driver puts it:
The message for Israelites and Judahites who may have read this text was clear. Jonah was chosen for this adventure specifically to repudiate his prior prophetic career [as an Israelite nationalist]. Relying on God to preserve national greatness despite national patterns of sinfulness and abuse is so utterly stupid that even the Ninevites know not to try it! Instead, the Ninevites repented in sackcloth and ashes, and God was merciful to them.
And do you know who would have grown up hearing this story? Jesus. In fact I can imagine that he’d have had a deep affection for it, given his own gifts as a teller of stories. I can see him sitting around a fire with the disciples in the evening, on the very day that he’d answered a lawyer’s question, “who is my neighbour?” by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. “Let me tell you another story—one of the great old ones that you’ve heard all your lives, and one that holds some of the same message as the story I told that lawyer this afternoon,” he might say. “Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying, ‘Go at once to Nineveh…”
Because in its own funny way, the story of Jonah is getting at the same thing as the parable of the Good Samaritan. If you think for a minute that you know mercy, forgiveness, and neighbourliness better than does God, it is story-time. Listen, learn, and laugh at the wild freeness of God’s great mercy.
