Mass readings for “Word of God” Sunday:
Jonah 3.1-5, 10 Psalm 25.4-9 1 Corinthians 7.29-31 Mark 1.14-20
On this “Word of God” Sunday how interesting that the first words of proclaimed scriptures this evening/morning, those from the Book of Jonah, should be “The Word of the Lord came to Jonah…”
Now that raises some questions as to what form the “word” took. We need to remember that while we speak of Jonah living in “biblical times” there was no Bible. Rather there was the Torah, the five “books” of Moses, and a variety of other works, the Psalms for example. But these would have been scrolls kept at the Jerusalem temple and in other sanctuaries around Judea, not in a handy single volume such as is on sale after mass through pre-order – and at this time in Israel’s history, there were no synagogues, those local centres of prayer and learning come much later in the development of Judaism.
We’re in a period of emerging literacy for Israel. Indeed, it won’t be really until the catastrophe of being conquered and sent into exile that the Word of God in that sense of texts, of sacred words recorded in what we call scripture, really becomes the core of the faith of Israel. The prophets, it must be said, were the fount of this idea of God’s word being so important, and actually crucial to the survival of Israel. And we see, to this day, that in face of all manner of persecution, and efforts at extermination, the Jewish people reconstitute themselves over and over again through the Word of God.
So, do we picture Jonah pouring over a scroll and then with a shudder, receiving a message from God, or was this some more direct inspiration. Was he reflecting on sacred scripture, as he had memorized a great deal of it, contemplating verses that had come to him in prayer? What we do know is that it is the “word” of God that speaks to him, and not any other. It’s not an edict from the king, and certainly not something of his own conception given how we know he reacted to being told to save the Ninevites – he despised Nineveh and resented God’s command.
Jonah is a curious, intriguing personality of the Bible—except for the very short book of Jonah – it’s just four chapters, Jonah is briefly referenced in the Book of Kings and in the Book of Tobit. As prophets go, even as a minor prophet, he doesn’t seem to be remembered for what he said, which is ironic – I mean, what are prophets known for? Their words.
In the Book of Jonah itself, he makes only one prophecy, that Nineveh will be destroyed in forty days. And by the way, that prophecy doesn’t come true. The city, its people, repent and are saved.
So, Jonah’s not, as it were, on the first prophetic team, or the second for that matter. We know him for his story and not really much of what he had to say. And his story is about his relationship to God’s word. He rejects and he runs from it; he reluctantly obeys it, and then sulks when by his grudging obedience he is an instrument of grace, literally saving hundreds of thousands of people from God’s wrath. His is the story of repentance, the hard work of repentance that even at the end of the brief story of Jonah is still not finished.
Contrast this less than heroic Jonah with who and what we see in the gospel. John the Baptist arrested, Jesus prudently withdrawing from Judea to Galilee, yet from there announcing, “The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
That good news, of course, the Word of God par excellence.
Then he begins to gather his disciples, and they, unlike Jonah, drop what they are doing and follow even as they must know about John’s arrest. They take up the cause of bringing the good news, the Word of God to the world despite the danger.
So, we have this contrast, and it suggests to us who know the Word of God to be more precious than gold, or bitcoin, with a challenging choice as we perceive the call to us to proclaim, preach, share and teach the scriptures to a world, to our own Canadian society, that is as lost as Nineveh ever was.
Or, take the tack of Jonah, and only with reluctance offer the Word of God, begrudgingly, and with a harsh sense of judgement toward a world we regard as deserving every horrible thing that befalls it. And by the way, that’s not an uncommon attitude.
Surf the internet and we’ll see any number of bitter comments on the state of the nation, of Western civilization, that express the idea that it all should just collapse. And these come from both the left and the right, of the political spectrum. It’s cause for concern because I don’t think those who say and write such things really comprehend the consequences of civilizational collapse; or even as they can in looking at such periods of history as the Russian Revolution of the last century, they think that somehow they will not be drawn into the maelstrom of political, economic and social chaos with all its suffering and death.
Even for those of us who more consciously try to live out of the compassion of Christ, there can be an unacknowledged satisfaction in the thought that those who reject Christ will get their comeuppance. I remember when I was first ordained, to the Anglican Church, and still living in Ottawa, I was walking through a public park, and I was in clerical dress – black suit and white collar. Lovely day and all, and I was probably smiling or grinning as I walked along, and this young man approached down the other side of the path, and as he walked past me, he harumphed and said quite clearly, “you think you’re better than the rest of us?”
Now, that stopped me. And he was well past me and heading out of the park by the time I turned to answer him. And I let out a weak, “well… no.” Not very convincing; and, indeed, beneath that there was some contempt for the world rather than compassion, resentment instead of a desire for humanity’s reconciliation with God. I felt I had chosen rightly in following Jesus, in responding to God’s word, but how did I really feel about the many who refused it, and the many who ostensibly were Christian and now walking away?
I’ve tried ever since to stay grounded in that realization as to how easily one can be a Jonah in this world, instead of a disciple of Jesus. I’m a very visible witness to the Christian faith and an agent of the good news; I need to be sincere. And I need to remember that it is the Holy Spirit that works through me, as it does through God’s word, and the word of God I share, so as to affect God’s wrath, or His mercy. That is, I don’t get a say in God’s judgment.
Now, there’s actually some rabbinic commentary on Jonah that says that Jonah’s preaching was not good; and so, his appeal to the Ninevites was half-hearted and poorly spoken, but nonetheless, God’s word shone through and reached their hearts.
Imagine how more effective if competence, confidence, and compassion were in Jonah’s voice as he walked through that city under judgment.
We’re all called to share God’s word; to know God’s word and so share it effectively, with understanding. It’s not only our lectors, those ministers of the word of our parish and other parishes who have that vocation. Of course, their particular task is to proclaim it in the assembly, and we thank them for their good work; and encourage them in their discipline of study and preparation as from Sunday to Sunday, mass to mass, they come, not as reluctant Jonahs, but as disciples of our Lord and fishers of people, having received the word in text, and in spirit, in what is written on the page, and upon the heart, and so call us all through sacred scripture, to repent and even more so, to rejoice.
Amen.