"Jonah and the Big Fish"

"Jonah and the big fish"

Sermon for Proper 14, August 8, 1999

St. Thomas, Pittstown, NJ

Readings: Jonah 2:1-9; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

"Jonah and the big fish"
was what the book was called, if I remember rightly.
It was one of the bible story books
my parents bought for me
back when I was first learning to read.
They had lots of pictures and just a few words,
mostly in rhyme,
and the main characters always wore stripy clothes
so you could tell which ones they were
on the pages printed in every shade of gray.

So there was Jonah, a little bearded man in a stripy coat and sandals,
and God
in the guise of a big white cloud.
God sent Jonah
to go to Nineveh,
to tell the people
how bad they were.
But Jonah was scared.
He ran away,
and went to sea
in a little wooden fishing boat -
at least, that's what it looked like to me.
And so Jonah went to sea, and I can still remember the fear
as the waves became great dark streaks
across the page,
and the crates of supplies
which the sailors threw overboard
broke apart
under the waves' force.

And then in fear
wanting to appease
whatever god it was
who had sent this storm,
they drew straws,
and Jonah
drew the short straw.
They wound him tight with thumb-thick ropes
and threw him overboard.
And there was Jonah,
sinking slowly under

the now quiet waves,
a few bubbles trailing
from his mouth,
towards his watery grave.

And then you turned the page.

As Jonah sank slowly downwards,
ready to die,
there came towards him
a huge fish,
its mouth wide open,
and it swallowed him
in one
great
gulp.

And in the next picture
Jonah
is sitting in the cave-like belly
of the fish,
surrounded by the bleached-clean bones
of previous fish dinners,
bored silly
- for by this time he has been there three days and nights -
Jonah is sitting there
wondering
if he will ever escape.

And that
is when
he begins
to pray.

My picture- book went on with the story,
but I'm going to stop here.
Because this is where today's Old Testament reading begins, and also
because
the story of Jonah
is one you should read for yourself,
and I don't want to spoil it for you.
And in case, like me, you're not quite sure where to find Jonah in your
bible,
its near the end of the Old Testament,
between Obadiah and Micah -
one of those many prophets who bring the Old Testament to a close.
I encourage you to go home this week and read it for your yourself - its
just
four chapters, and good to read through adult eyes.

But back to today's reading.
The story of Jonah
is one of those Old Testament stories
which is well known
to many of us.
But there is a danger in knowing any story
too well.
When you know a story too well,
you can forget the details,
can forget to listen closely.
If the way you know it
is, like me, through a story book, or perhaps
from the lips
of a Sunday School Teacher,
its just possible
that you may have missed
a few
important details.

And that's what I discovered
when I began to read
the story of Jonah
in preparation for this sermon.⁽¹⁾

Just like last week,
I planned to preach on the gospel,
but was hooked
by the Old Testament.

Jonah's prayer
could be almost any one
of the hundred and fifty prayers
we find collected in our book of Psalms,
or any of the psalms of lament, at least.
He moans and groans
about how miserable he is,
how hopeless is his plight,
he makes sure we know
just how close to death
he has been.
And then there is a sudden
about-face.
He remembers God,
God rescues him,
and he makes a vow
to worship
the great deliverer.

The only problem is
he's faking it.
You see, what Jonah says
is a whole lot of...
Well, I won't say it, but you know what I mean.
Jonah takes the recent events of his life
and puts an exceeding amount of gloss on them.
He speaks of calling on God,
but when the ship was in trouble,
being swamped by a storm,
he was fast asleep -
it was the sailors
who were doing the calling.
He speaks of God
casting him into the deep,
only once again
the sailors
were doing the casting.
He speaks of having been delivered,
but there he is
praying
from the belly
of a fish.
He berates
those who worship vain idols,
even though the sailors,
who were presumably heathens
end up worshiping God.

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh on Jonah,
but it seems to me
that he is doing a pretty good job
of whitewashing,
whitewashing himself, and his actions, and his experiences.
You see, what he says
has all the appearances
of piety,
but it's counterfeit.
It's based on an illusion.

And when God speaks to the fish
and it spews Jonah up
onto dry land,
perhaps it is because Jonah's prayer
makes God sick.

But surprisingly
that's not the end of the story.
Jonah eventually does what God asks of him, though not without a lot of
grumbling and groaning and a couple of false starts.
And God uses him,
even though
he can't be regarded
as anything other
than a cracked vessel,
even though
he is rebellious
and arrogant
and unlikable,
and, when it comes down to it,
a pretty untrustworthy kind of guy.

And you know, it seems to me,
that this Jonah
is a lot more like me
than I like to admit.

There are times
when I run away from God
just as fast as I can go,
even though I know
that there is no escaping.
There are times
when the world around is in a crisis,
and I just sit in the corner,
protecting my own skin.
There are times
when I complain about others' lack of commitment
even though
I know
that I've skipped saying my prayers
every morning
for the last month.
And there are times
when I just say the words
because
an outward show of faith
is about all
I can handle.
Yes, there are times
when I probably make
God
sick.

It's true of all of us, I guess.

But the grace of this story, the grace of Jonah,
is that even when we make God sick,
God still loves us.
Even when we go off on our own little sidetracks,
God calls us to follow.
Even when we are arrogant and unlikable,
God reaches out a hand toward us.
Even when we are untrustworthy
God trusts us
with the precious gift
of the gospel
to share with our world,
in thought, in word, in deed.

Patiently,
gently,
God loves us into action.

The story of Jonah
was one of the most frequently illustrated stories
in the life of the early church.
On frescoes, on coffins, on mosaics,
they put the figure of Jonah
being thrown into the sea,
in the belly of the fish,
and at rest.
Most interpreter of these paintings
think that they have to do with the time
Jesus was asked
to provide a sign that he was the messiah,
and he told them to watch
for the sign of Jonah -
three days in the grave
like the belly
of a fish.

But I wonder.
I wonder
whether the pictures of Jonah
were not also a reminder
of the incredibly generous love
of God
which reaches out to us
in the midst of our stubbornness
and unbelief
and fear.

"There's a wideness in God's mercy
like the wideness of the sea;
there's a kindness in his justice,
which is more than liberty.
There is welcome for the sinner,
and more graces for the good;
there is mercy with the Savior;
there is healing in his blood."⁽²⁾

(sung quietly)

Raewynne J. Whiteley
8 August, 1999

Endnotes:

1. I am indebted here to the insights of Phyllis Trible, The Book of Jonah (The New Interpreters Bible; Vol. VII; Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996).

2. Frederick William Faber (1814-1863), "There's a Wideness in God's mercy" (Hymn 469; New York: Church Publishing Inc, 1982).