January 22, 2006

Glynn Cardy

Epiphany 3     
Jonah 3:1-5,10
     Mark 1:14-20 

Twenty five hundred years ago the people of Judah were captives in Babylon. They believed themselves to be the `chosen people'. The main problem with believing yourself to be God's specially chosen is that everyone else becomes God's specially unchosen. One nation cannot be chosen without other nations inevitably being defined as inferior. Before long rejection, hatred and prejudice are being justified by the chosen ones.

The defeat of the Jewish army and the subsequent captivity in Babylon raised troubling theological questions for the captive people: "If we are really God's chosen, how come we were defeated? Is our God impotent?” Unable and unwilling to give up the status of being God's elect and desiring to save God from the charge of powerlessness, the theologians got to work. They came up with a very neat solution. The defeat and exile were God's punishment upon a rebellious and unfaithful people. They did not obey God's law. They resolved, therefore, that when they returned to Judah they would be rigorous in obedience less we face again the wrath of an avenging God. And so they were.

There was, however, a nagging discomfort about this theological solution. It placed the blame squarely on the shoulders of the Jews' forebears. Were their ancestors so weak, so inept, so sinful? And if they were, why? Why were they disobedient, why did they not worship properly, why were they vulnerable to sin? As quickly as these questions played in the mind, answers began to emerge. 'It was not our ancestors' weakness at all,' the returning exiles argued. 'Some of our forebears had married non-Jewish spouses, who had contaminated us with alien traditions and different values. God's judgment fell on our nation when we condoned these evil, alien practices.'

The scapegoat had now been identified: the foreigners were the culprits. God's people therefore in future had to be vigilant to root out and expose any and all foreign elements. The theological problem was solved in a comfortable way. They did not relinquish that sense of being chosen, nor were they forced to entertain a vision of an impotent God.

Using the power of this theological mandate, Ezra and Nehemiah led the newly arrived pilgrim people in the renewal of their covenant with God. For good measure, these leaders proposed a statute designed to guarantee the racial, ethnic, and religious purity of the rebuilt nation of Judah. This statute required every Jewish man or woman married to a foreign spouse to divorce and banish the non-Jewish partner from the land. It further required that any "half-breed" children born of that union be banished with the non-Jewish mate. The enforcement of the law moved Judah into one of the uglier phases of her history. Racial purists organized vigilante squads. Bloodlines were checked. Tensions ran high, as the inquisition tore families apart. Judah was to be for the Jews only. Foreign elements must be purged. No protest was heard. The hysteria drowned out every objection.

There was, however, at that time at least one person in Jerusalem who was sufficiently disturbed by the prevailing prejudice to confront it. He decided to write a story. It would appear anonymously on the streets of Jerusalem, and by its very charm and persuasive narrative power it would seduce people into both listening to and discussing it. He was sure people would comment and laugh as they listened. Then the point of the story would strike their hearts, and they would see themselves as they really were, and their prejudice would be revealed. What follows is a retelling of the story that anonymous Jewish writer gave to his fellow citizens some twenty-five hundred years ago.

++++++++++++++++++++

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a prophet whose name was Jonah. Jonah was certain that God's love was bound by the limits of his own love, so he assumed that God rejected everyone that Jonah rejected and hated everyone that Jonah hated. With these prejudices firmly in place, Jonah settled into the predictable life of a righteous Hebrew.

But one day God spoke to Jonah and said, "Jonah, I want you to go to the people of Nineveh and preach." Jonah was aghast! "You must be kidding, God! Nineveh is a pagan city. It is the capital of the Assyrians - the scumbags of the world. You know that. Why would you want me to preach to the people of Nineveh?"

God was not deterred by Jonah's logic or by his distress, rising as it did out of Jonah's prejudice. With divine patience the demand was repeated. God's command was against everything Jonah had been taught. So, Jonah responded in the classic and time-honoured way that powerless people have of dealing with authority figures: He said yes, but he meant no. He pretended to agree, all the while hoping that God would soon forget this foolishness and turn the divine attention to some other part of the cosmos.

To show his good faith, Jonah returned to his home and prepared to leave. He packed his suitcase and went down to the seaport, where he booked passage on a boat - not to Nineveh but to Tarshish! 'It was an honest mistake,' he would plead, in case God noticed. Jonah checked, went to his cabin, unpacked his bag, put on his shorts, and went topside with his suntan lotion. Sprawling in a deck chair, he put on his dark glasses and began to read North and South. He played the role of a tourist brilliantly. As his boat began its journey into the Mediterranean Sea, Jonah breathed a sigh of relief. He had escaped the divine command, and in so doing had preserved his prejudices intact. Even better, he had saved God from a serious mistake. All went well for the first hour.

Then a dark cloud appeared in the sky just above the little boat. It seemed to move wherever the boat moved. No amount of navigational skill could elude it. From that cloud flashes of lightning, claps of thunder, and a torrential rainstorm descended on Jonah's boat. The God-fearing captain, observing this unusual phenomenon, knew exactly what was happening. "God is angry with someone on this boat," she shouted. To identify the culprit the captain used the technology at her disposal. She drew straws. The short one came to Jonah. "Jonah, what is this that you have done?" the captain demanded.

"Well," replied Jonah, "God did call me to go preach to the people of Nineveh, but I could not imagine that God meant it. After all, the Ninevites are Gentiles!”

The captain seemed satisfied with what was to her mind a reasonable explanation. Prejudice always seems reasonable to the prejudiced ones. So the captain decided to ride out the storm - but a sharp bolt of lightning and a reverberating clap of thunder greeted that decision. When a large wave broke across the bow of the ship the captain reconsidered.

"On second thoughts, Jonah," the captain said, "when a sacrifice has to be made and the choice is between you and me, I vote for you." With that she threw the hapless Jonah overboard.

God, however, had prepared for this eventuality by creating a great big fish. That fish had been swimming in tandem with the boat, evading stray Japanese and Norwegian harpoons, awaiting its moment on centre stage. The time had come, and the great mouth of the fish was open to receive the falling, flailing Jonah. Jonah slid into the unknown and found himself in the confines of a new, but relatively small, Mediterranean bungalow.

Jonah had a rather amazing capacity to adapt to new circumstances. He set out to make his living space comfortable. He hung curtains, rearranged the furniture, and settled down to see what might come his way in this strange new chapter of his life. For three days and three nights Jonah remained in the belly of the great fish, until even the great fish could no longer stand Jonah's presence. There was a great burp, and the fish threw up. Out tumbled Jonah, landing on a very convenient sand bar. While Jonah was clearing the water from his ears and out of his mind he heard that familiar voice say, "Jonah, how would you like to go preach to the people of Nineveh?" Jonah knew when he was outmanoeuvred. "Okay, God, you win. I'll go."

Persistent Jonah was not through in his debate with God however. Prejudice never dies easily or speedily. His first attempt to manipulate a powerful authority figure had failed. God had been immovable. His second line of defence is also familiar: 'I'll do what you demand God, but I'll do it my way.' God had instructed Jonah to preach to the people of Nineveh, but God had not told him how to do that preaching or where in Nineveh to preach, so he decided to preach only in the alleyways and back streets, and to preach by muttering under his breath.

So into the alleys and back streets went Jonah, looking disreputable and muttering under his breath, "God says, `Repent; repent and turn to God.'" He hoped no one would hear, and then certainly no one would respond. But to his disbelief, the people of Nineveh both heard and responded. By the thousands they poured out of their homes and onto the streets, tearing their clothes, beating their breasts, begging God's forgiveness mercy. The whole city was saved.

Jonah was the most successful evangelist of all time. Jonah, however, was in a rage. "God, I knew this would happen. Now you have to forgive these wretched people. Your merciful nature does not allow the destruction of penitent people, so you will save them. Why did you do this, God? Why can your love and mercy not stop at the boundary of my love and mercy? Why do you not hate everybody that I hate? These people do not deserve your love." Jonah stomped out of the city to sulk on a distant hillside, while the crowds of newly converted Ninevites raised their hands in prayer and praise and the echoes of "Amazing Grace" filtered into the countryside. In disgust Jonah finally fell asleep, only to have bad dreams.

He tossed and turned until dawn. Rousing himself, he became aware that God was strangely absent. During the night, however, God had caused a great tree to grow on the hillside. When the hot desert sun bore down on Jonah, he found refuge beneath that tree's rich green foliage. Jonah became attached to that tree in a deep, mysterious way. It seemed to sustain his life and his spirit. The next night, however, God caused a worm to attack the tree, boring through its trunk and branches and devouring its foliage, until the tree withered and collapsed into the dust. When Jonah awakened and saw that his treasured tree was now dead he was inconsolable. He wept bitter tears of grief. His compassion, his pity, and his grief poured out on the tree. Finally, late in that second day, God broke silence and said: "Jonah is it not rather strange that you can express all this grief and remorse over a tree, and not even a very impressive tree, since it was born in one day and died in another? You have the capacity to feel the pangs of a broken heart over this tree [dwellers of Queen Street note], yet you have no pity and no love for the 120,000 people who dwell in the city of Nineveh."

On this note the book of Jonah ends.

++++++++++++++++++++

For the people of Judah the Book of Jonah held up a mirror wherein they looked deeply into their own eyes. Slowly they had to see that God's love is unlimited. God's embrace is not restricted by their embrace. God's grace is not limited by their prejudices. It is important for Western Christians to realize that the first people to feel the sting of the church's prejudice were our own ancestors - the Gentiles.

They were not to be the only objects of prejudice. The church throughout its history has perceived a God who rejects whatever the church rejects. In almost every instance, it was ignorance that fed prejudice. Left-handed people were called "the devil's children" by church leaders. People who committed suicide were refused burial within the walls of the church. Mental illness made people different and, therefore, feared and rejected. Divorced persons were refused `Holy Communion'. Homosexual people have been despised and excluded. And so on and so on. The attitude of Jonah has been the attitude of the church. However, thank God, an ever-deepening understanding of God's love has time and again challenged and dismantled those barriers of prejudice.

Let us continue to hear the call of Nineveh: to set aside our fear and be open to the humanity in those we reject.

[i] Chapter 2, John Selby Spong, Living in Sin? San Francisco, 1988, Harper and Row.