Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Old Testament is filled with remarkably memorable stories:
Adam and Eve, the Flood, Moses, the Flight into Egypt – and dozens more.

But perhaps the strangest and most bizarre of all is the tale of Jonah and the Whale. At the very least, it must be considered the most riveting fish story of all time, with the possible exception of Moby Dick.

The Jonah story takes place when one of the most ancient and productive cultures of all time reigned supreme  … the Assyrians. They are responsible for inventing some of the most fundamental devices of daily life: the first paved roads, the first postal system, the first magnifying glasses, the first libraries, the first aqueducts, and on and on.

Unfortunately, they were also one of the meanest, nastiest, brutish, violent, and oppressive people in all human history. And the people they picked on the most were the Israelites.
All of this is a little background to the much abbreviated first reading we just heard about God calling out to an Israelite named Jonah. He was more than surprised – even to the point of terror! –  when God asks a favor of him:

Go to Nineveh, the capital city of the Assyrians, and deliver a message of repentance and forgiveness.

Jonah could not believe God would possibly ask this of him. This city, Jonah tells himself, is filled with those hated infidels who have made life a living hell for us. I – little ol’ me – am supposed to go to that city that has persecuted my people horribly and deliver to them a message of forgiveness and peace? Really?

Jonah wants nothing to do with this plan. So, instead of doing as the Lord asks him, he heads to the nearest port, jumps on a ship, and sails away … in the opposite direction!
And now the plot thickens.

While on the boat, a terrible storm comes up. The all-pagan crew, after spending time in prayer over this, decides the cause of the storm is none other than Jonah. They then quickly proceed to rid themselves of this evil spirit causing all the chaos by throwing Jonah overboard … who is then quickly swallowed by a whale.

Then, believe it or not, the story gets even more outlandish.
Inside this gigantic fish, Jonah gets down on his knees and prays as fervently as he can, only to discover that the fish spits him out on to dry land.

Jonah, now chastened by all this turmoil, finally does as the Lord asked him to do in the first place:

Jonah goes to Nineveh where he preaches a message of repentance. And, miracle of miracles, he discovers that the horrible, awful, terrible Assyrians are fantastically receptive to his message – so much so, in fact, that the entire city goes into a state of sackcloth and ashes.

How’s that for a bizarre tale?

But you might ask, what’s its point? What are we supposed to take away from it?

Perhaps the point is this:
Can you and I forgive our worst enemy?

Can you and I be a channel through which God’s boundless love can flow even to those who have hurt us the most?
Have you ever noticed, for example, that we believers often find ourselves shamed by so-called “heathens” or “secularists” who too many times respond to the indignities of life around them with far greater graciousness and generosity and compassion than we do?

Jonah received a “call” from God – and fled as fast as he could.

The gospel of Mark today presents a different scenario: “Come after me” Jesus says. The immediate response?

“Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.” 

You and I are given a choice in today’s readings: Jonah’s response or the disciples’ response.

But, before you jump to opt for the latter, review carefully what Jesus is calling us to. Because it’s possibly even more difficult than what Jonah had to endure!

Jesus’ call can best be summed up in one word: metanoia.
This is a Greek word usually translated as “repent,” as in “Repent, and believe the gospel.”

But its meaning is far more profound. It’s the same word that John the Baptist shouted out to the long line of sinners eager to be baptized in the river Jordan. It’s the same word that Jesus passionately voiced to get the attention of anyone who would listen.

It’s a word that is best translated as “Change! Change your whole way of thinking and seeing and doing! Change and embrace an entirely different life path.”

Metanoia means that there are changes to be made in our lives, new values to be embraced, new eyes with which to see. And we’re to do all of this by trusting in a future that is made possible by the grace of God breaking into human history in the person of Jesus.

Sadly, this is probably not what you and I want to hear. We like things the way they are. We want things to remain the same. We want to stay within our comfort zones. The idea of change scares us, threatens us. Just like it did Jonah. And, so, like him, we are tempted to flee … or just ignore.

The problem is if that is our choice, you and I are going to miss out.

We’re going to miss out on miracles in our life.

We’re going to miss out on what the disciples discovered when they did follow Jesus: the paralytic picking up his bed and walking, the leper whose life was no longer defined by his disease, the multitude being fed, the lame walking, the blind seeing, the sinful woman washing the feet of Jesus with her tears and drying them with her hair.

And there is something else we’re going to miss out on. Something that is possibly the greatest miracle of all – the very same one Jonah witnessed with his own unbelieving eyes:
The miracle of receiving the power of being able at last to forgive, even our enemies.

“Come, follow me.”

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.

NOTE:  Some of the remarkable words spoken by the 22-year-old poet, Amanda Gorman, at the President-elect Joseph R. Biden’s inauguration:

“ When day comes, we ask ourselves:
Where can we find light
In this never- ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.
Somehow, we do it.
Somehow, we’ve weathered and witnessed
A nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our
Nation rather than share it,
Would destroy our country if it meant
Delaying democracy.
And this effort very nearly succeeded.
But while democracy can be periodically delayed.
It can never be permanently defeated.”

The Old Testament is filled with remarkably memorable stories:
Adam and Eve, the Flood, Moses, the Flight into Egypt – and dozens more.

But perhaps the strangest and most bizarre of all is the tale of Jonah and the Whale. At the very least, it must be considered the most riveting fish story of all time, with the possible exception of Moby Dick.

The Jonah story takes place when one of the most ancient and productive cultures of all time reigned supreme  … the Assyrians. They are responsible for inventing some of the most fundamental devices of daily life: the first paved roads, the first postal system, the first magnifying glasses, the first libraries, the first aqueducts, and on and on.

Unfortunately, they were also one of the meanest, nastiest, brutish, violent, and oppressive people in all human history. And the people they picked on the most were the Israelites.
All of this is a little background to the much abbreviated first reading we just heard about God calling out to an Israelite named Jonah. He was more than surprised – even to the point of terror! –  when God asks a favor of him:

Go to Nineveh, the capital city of the Assyrians, and deliver a message of repentance and forgiveness.

Jonah could not believe God would possibly ask this of him. This city, Jonah tells himself, is filled with those hated infidels who have made life a living hell for us. I – little ol’ me – am supposed to go to that city that has persecuted my people horribly and deliver to them a message of forgiveness and peace? Really?

Jonah wants nothing to do with this plan. So, instead of doing as the Lord asks him, he heads to the nearest port, jumps on a ship, and sails away … in the opposite direction!
And now the plot thickens.

While on the boat, a terrible storm comes up. The all-pagan crew, after spending time in prayer over this, decides the cause of the storm is none other than Jonah. They then quickly proceed to rid themselves of this evil spirit causing all the chaos by throwing Jonah overboard … who is then quickly swallowed by a whale.

Then, believe it or not, the story gets even more outlandish.
Inside this gigantic fish, Jonah gets down on his knees and prays as fervently as he can, only to discover that the fish spits him out on to dry land.

Jonah, now chastened by all this turmoil, finally does as the Lord asked him to do in the first place:

Jonah goes to Nineveh where he preaches a message of repentance. And, miracle of miracles, he discovers that the horrible, awful, terrible Assyrians are fantastically receptive to his message – so much so, in fact, that the entire city goes into a state of sackcloth and ashes.

How’s that for a bizarre tale?

But you might ask, what’s its point? What are we supposed to take away from it?

Perhaps the point is this:
Can you and I forgive our worst enemy?

Can you and I be a channel through which God’s boundless love can flow even to those who have hurt us the most?
Have you ever noticed, for example, that we believers often find ourselves shamed by so-called “heathens” or “secularists” who too many times respond to the indignities of life around them with far greater graciousness and generosity and compassion than we do?

Jonah received a “call” from God – and fled as fast as he could.

The gospel of Mark today presents a different scenario: “Come after me” Jesus says. The immediate response?

“Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.” 

You and I are given a choice in today’s readings: Jonah’s response or the disciples’ response.

But, before you jump to opt for the latter, review carefully what Jesus is calling us to. Because it’s possibly even more difficult than what Jonah had to endure!

Jesus’ call can best be summed up in one word: metanoia.
This is a Greek word usually translated as “repent,” as in “Repent, and believe the gospel.”

But its meaning is far more profound. It’s the same word that John the Baptist shouted out to the long line of sinners eager to be baptized in the river Jordan. It’s the same word that Jesus passionately voiced to get the attention of anyone who would listen.

It’s a word that is best translated as “Change! Change your whole way of thinking and seeing and doing! Change and embrace an entirely different life path.”

Metanoia means that there are changes to be made in our lives, new values to be embraced, new eyes with which to see. And we’re to do all of this by trusting in a future that is made possible by the grace of God breaking into human history in the person of Jesus.

Sadly, this is probably not what you and I want to hear. We like things the way they are. We want things to remain the same. We want to stay within our comfort zones. The idea of change scares us, threatens us. Just like it did Jonah. And, so, like him, we are tempted to flee … or just ignore.

The problem is if that is our choice, you and I are going to miss out.

We’re going to miss out on miracles in our life.

We’re going to miss out on what the disciples discovered when they did follow Jesus: the paralytic picking up his bed and walking, the leper whose life was no longer defined by his disease, the multitude being fed, the lame walking, the blind seeing, the sinful woman washing the feet of Jesus with her tears and drying them with her hair.

And there is something else we’re going to miss out on. Something that is possibly the greatest miracle of all – the very same one Jonah witnessed with his own unbelieving eyes:
The miracle of receiving the power of being able at last to forgive, even our enemies.

“Come, follow me.”

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.

NOTE:  Some of the remarkable words spoken by the 22-year-old poet, Amanda Gorman, at the President-elect Joseph R. Biden’s inauguration:

“ When day comes, we ask ourselves:
Where can we find light
In this never- ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.
Somehow, we do it.
Somehow, we’ve weathered and witnessed
A nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our
Nation rather than share it,
Would destroy our country if it meant
Delaying democracy.
And this effort very nearly succeeded.
But while democracy can be periodically delayed.
It can never be permanently defeated.”