First Congregational Church
165 Main St, Amherst, MA
Called to Life
Jonah 3:1-10
Mark 1:14-20
Some people point to the story of Jonah as proof positive that the Bible is not literally true.
“Jonah was swallowed by a whale?” they ask. As if. “And you expect me to believe that he survived the swallowing and spent three days and three nights in the belly of the fish, all the while praying for God’s deliverance? And then, and THEN,” they say, trying to embarrass you now, “then God talked to the fish [that is what the story says] and the fish agreed to vomit Jonah onto dry land?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Well, maybe the story is a bit far-fetched. But I have to say: I love the idea of God providing a large fish (that’s what the story says) to keep Jonah from drowning, and then talking to the fish (again, that’s what it says) to arrange still more help for Jonah.
Add “whale-whisperer” to your list of God’s many names.
But it’s not the whole “belly of the whale” thing that tips me off that something truer than fact is happening here. Nor is it the story’s other uses of metaphor, hyperbole—including animals wearing sackcloth—and symbolism, such as God’s choice of Ninevah, about as evil and as far east as the Israelites could imagine, and Jonah’s plan to escape to Tarshish, the most exotic and western city his people knew of.
No, the one thing in the story that I really can’t swallow . . . is the bit about Jonah’s so-called sermon. According to the story, Jonah preaches exactly one sentence. It’s not a very nice sentence, and it doesn’t even mention God. But on the basis of this one threatening but vague sentence—“Ninevah will be overthrown in 40 days!”—supposedly every person and animal in the city, including the king, believes in God, begins fasting, and vows to give up violence and all their evil ways.
Are you kidding me?!?
Not even the best of preachers—not even Jesus—gets results like that.
And that is why I think the story of Jonah is a fable—a fable with maybe even a little satire thrown in.
But do I think the story of Jonah is true?
Absolutely! I believe there is deep and life-giving truth in the meaning of the story. After all, who among us cannot relate to the story of Jonah on some level?
Maybe Carl Sandburg said it best, in his poem “Losers”:
If I should pass the tomb of Jonah
I would stop there and sit for awhile;
Because I was swallowed one time deep in the dark
And came out alive after all. 1
Who among us has not, at one time or another (and maybe more than once), been swallowed up by the darkness or the suffering or the losses and struggles of life?
And who among us has not somehow—by God’s grace, by God’s loving hand and still-speaking whisper, by some miracle or other—come through it all still alive? Maybe even more alive. Maybe even wiser, and eager to tell the tale?
Who among us does not have that kind of fish story?
Maybe someday we should devote an entire Sunday—or, better yet, a whole retreat—to telling and hearing our fish stories.
But in general I think it’s wrong to see this story as being primarily about Jonah or the Ninevites or a big fish. And I think we make a similar mistake when we hear Jesus’ call to the fishermen of Galilee and think their response must have had something to do with Jesus’ extraordinary charisma or the super-human courage or wild faith of Peter and Andrew, James and John.
What these stories are really about, it seems to me, is what all the stories in the Bible are about: God.
More than anything else, these stories reveal to us God’s boundless love for all of creation (even whales!), God’s relentless pursuit of us, and the myriad ways and unlikely people (and animals!) through whom God calls each one of us and points the way to life, healing and wholeness. Our scriptures and our lives are filled with examples of God’s tireless, creative, merciful and extravagant efforts to love us. Time and time and time and time again, God tries to enlist us as partners—co-workers—in her plan to bring everyone and everything into the fullness of God’s love.
That has always been the divine plan. Call it redemption, salvation, wholeness, spiritual union, the reconciling of the all things to God: that’s what it’s all about. This is the good news.
But our scriptures, our history and our lives are also filled with a wide range of responses to God’s call to life.
Jonah, for example, represents those of who resist God’s call, who try to get as far away from it as possible.
Are we resisting God’s call?
Maybe we resist because, like Jonah, we don’t really trust God’s call. We may not even believe in such a thing. Or maybe we have a hard time believing that following God’s way would bring us what we most want or need out of life. Or maybe we, like Jonah, prefer enjoying the benefits of God’s love to sharing that love with people who have hurt us, people who disagree with us, people we consider our enemies.
Maybe we run from God because we have other plans, thank you very much, and we think following Jesus would require us to give up what we most love.
But Jonah seems a little more, um, receptive to God’s call after his experience with the storm and the whale, his encounter with fear and darkness. Life’s difficulties can harden our hearts, but in our struggles we can also discover our need for God’s grace; in our time of need, we can open our hearts and surrender to God’s leading.
And so, in a brilliant use of literary understatement, the story tells us that when the word of God came to Jonah a second time, he obeyed. He set out and went to Nineveh.
But when God’s word is revealed through Jonah to the “wicked” Ninevites, their response to God is entirely different from his. Instead of running away from God’s love and mercy, as Jonah did, the Ninevites respond in fear to their image of a demanding and punishing God.
Are we living out of fear or guilt or the misguided notion that we have to earn God’s love?
Maybe we are like the Ninevites sometimes—considering ourselves unworthy, living in shame if not sackcloth, denying ourselves food and water, thinking that if we’re guilty enough or good enough or busy enough, bad things won’t happen to us. Or maybe we simply wear ourselves out doing good deeds, as if we need to earn God’s favor, as if following Jesus is all about hard work and sacrifice and never having fun again.
But there is another way.
It is the way of being so in touch with who we are and what we long for, so aware of our need for healing and the world’s need for hope, that when someone comes along with good news, something in our heart leaps. It is the way of being so familiar with God and God’s word and so in need of the gospel of Jesus that we recognize the Spirit moving and working among us. It is a way of openness and trust that empowers us to respond to the Spirit in faith when it is made manifest—even in the most unlikely person or situation or thing.
This is how the first disciples—Peter and Andrew, James and John—respond to a sudden call from Jesus.
Whereas Jonah resisted God’s call, they listened.
Whereas Jonah ran the opposite direction from where God wanted him to go, the disciples followed Jesus—even though they didn’t know where he would lead them.
Whereas the Ninevites humbled and punished themselves in hopes of changing God’s mind and avoiding God’s punishment, saw and heard in Jesus the hope of new life, the opportunity to become all they and God’s people were meant to be.
Following Jesus means letting God change us, letting our lives be transformed by God’s love. Following Jesus is about realizing that it is life and life abundant that he wants for us. For some of us, following Jesus might mean leaving our nets and all that we know behind. For others, following Jesus could mean staying home and staying true to the people and situations that need us. But for all of us, following Jesus involves following our hearts to the source of love and life. It is both an inward and outward journey, an openness to both receiving and sharing God’s love.
Both then and now, Jesus gives his disciples no hoops to jump through, no tests to pass, no creeds to recite. He simply beckons them to follow—and to get rid of whatever would keep them from following.
Jesus embodies God’s call to life. In surprising and paradoxical ways, he demonstrates God’s never-changing intention for our good. Seeing how we struggle to get by, how we work to catch a few fish here and there, Jesus says: Follow me, and I’ll fill your life with meaning and hope. Seeing how we fight with one another, Jesus says: Follow me, and live in peace. Follow me and become partners in God’s plan to create a new heaven and a new earth. Follow me, dear children, and find God and yourself and a new life.
This day and every day, that is God’s invitation to us.
I’m not sure to what specific things God might be calling you today, but I know without a doubt that God is calling you to healing and wholeness. I’m not saying that following Jesus will be easy; chances are it will not. I’m saying only that it will be the wisest and best and most life-giving thing you’ve ever done.
I believe God still is inviting all of us to participate in the creation of a new dominion, a realm where the last will be first and even enemies will be loved. I believe God is calling us to hope, to love, to community, to peace and justice and a world where all people are treated as the beloved children of God that they are.
So let us stop our running away from God. Let us get rid of our baggage—our fear and guilt and, perhaps, our other plans.
Let us decide today—whether we’re deciding for the first time or deciding again—to follow Jesus on that grace-shaped, love-filled and path to life.
