"What, No Whale?" given Jan. 21

 What! No whale? How can I possibly intend to preach a sermon on Jonah and not talk about the whale? Ever since Sunday School we've all heard about Jonah and the whale--they're as inseparable as peanut butter and jelly (or possibly bananas). How can any self-respecting preacher possibly preach about Jonah and leave out the whale?

Very easily, actually. Most modern English translations don't even use the word "whale". The most common translations are "great fish", or “sea monster”. Secondly, and more importantly, if you really read the parable of Jonah carefully, it becomes clear that the you-know-what is not really the focus of the story.

The only function of the great fish is to bring Jonah back from a diversion--back from his rebellion at the beginning--back where he belongs--under inescapable orders from his God.

Yet something about the image of that whale attracts us, annoys us, intrigues us--believers and skeptics alike. Remember Bishop Sheen, the first televangelist, back in the 1950s? During a Q & A period one night, some wisenheimer asked,

"Bishop Sheen, suppose you tell us how Jonah managed to survive four days in the belly of a whale." Bishop Sheen said,

"Frankly, I don't know; but when I get to heaven, I'll ask Jonah." The heckler replied, "Suppose Jonah didn't go to heaven?" Bishop Sheen said,

"Then you can ask him!"

So. Let me say—right now—for the record. This is a parable. But that does not mean that it is without value or untrue. Like all good parables the story of Jonah is true. Truth is far deeper and more powerful than simply “just the facts, ma’am”. This story is true to our very nature as human beings, true to God and to God’s very nature, and true about our existence on the deepest levels of life. And like the very best parables, it has more than one message for us on more than one level.

The basic story has been told many times-- at least up to the point of Jonah's encounter with the you-know-what. Jonah, a typical, stiff-necked, narrow, super-patriot Hebrew prophet is called by the God of Israel to go to the city of Ninevah where he is to proclaim the wrath of God upon the in habitants of that sinful place.

Now, Ninevah was the capital of Assyria, and Assyria was without a doubt the most militarized, totalitarian, brutal country in the Ancient Near East. One commentator calls the Assyrians the Nazis of the Ancient Near East. They were the scourge of the area--feared and hated for their military superiority and for the inhumanity of their soldiers.

Here's Jonah--a prophet from out in the sticks told by God to go there and cry doom and destruction upon Ninevah. It's about like Pat Robertson getting a call from God to go preach against communism in downtown Peking—or President Trump addressing the NAACP on the topic of stamps. An interesting assignment--but hardly one with much in the way of retirement benefits.

So what does Jonah do? He does what most any sensible person would do-- he hightails it out of town in the opposite direction. Jonah catches a ship heading for Tarshish. But God is not so easy to run away from. A storm comes up. The ship is almost wrecked. The superstitious sailors decide that Jonah is the cause of their ill luck and throw him overboard. Thus, they coin the use of the name "Jonah" as a sailor’s nickname for a "jinx".

There in the sea, poor old Jonah is swallowed by the you-know-what. In the belly of the beast, Jonah surrenders his will to God and prays for forgiveness. His prayer is heard. Three days later he is vomited up onto the shore. Which proves the wisdom of the child who, when asked by his Sunday School teacher "What do we learn from Jonah and the whale?" replied that "People make whales sick to their stomachs."

It's at this point that this morning's Old Testament Lesson begins. Here, wet and bedraggled and covered with sea monster barf, Jonah receives a second call from that insistent God of his. Considering everything in the light of recent events, Jonah decides this time to accede to God's suggestion.

So off he goes to Ninevah. As instructed, he proceeds to proclaim the wrath of God upon the his hereditary enemies—the sinful inhabitants of Ninevah. And then, fully expecting to be ignored in his preaching, Jonah immediately heads for the high ground just outside of town in order to get a good view of Yahweh the God of Israel's holy wrath polishing off the Assyrians.

But that doesn't happen. No fire from the sky. Not even a tiny bit of brimstone. Wouldn’t you know it, those sneaky Assyrians actuallly heed the word of God and repent. They begin, one and all, from the King down to the lowliest beggar, to convert. They don sackcloth and smear their faces with ashes and repent their evil ways. Seeing this, God is overjoyed and repents.

Both the KJV and the RSV use the word "repent" here. God repented. Funny to think of God repenting, isn't it? But in it's original meaning, the word "repent" means to turn around--to change directions. And that is exactly what God does--repent. God turns in another direction and refrains from destroying the city.

And Jonah? Jonah is so mad he can't see straight. Remember, he's not a Christian. Jonah hates the Assyrians. He's positively been looking forward to a front row seat at a bloodbath of his enemies as partial compensation for all the risk and trouble and pain he's been through on this preaching assignment. Jonah even presumes to bawl God out.

“There ya’ go again! I knew it! I knew you’d cop out. you bleeding heart liberal of a God. You went and forgave them--you repented.”

Jonah decides the only thing to do is sit there and pout. Then overnight, God grows a tall bean plant to shield Jonah's head from the hot desert sun. Jonah sits down under it. So now Jonah is somewhat assuaged. But the next day, God sends a worm to eat the plant. And so by the end of that day, Jonah is again furious at God. At the end of the story, it is God who speaks to Jonah.

"Jonah, you can mourn the loss of a plant. A plant that cost you not a single thing--you neither planted nor cared for it. And yet you cannot understand that I would be unwilling to destroy this bustling, teaming city full of adults and children and animals? Is it right for you to be so angry?" asks God. And there the story ends.

So what's the point? What's the story really about? I hope you see that it's not about an oversized minnow. But neither is it about the plant--nor the worm. The point of the story, the thing that it's really about is anger-- two different kinds of anger—Divine and human.

"And God said, 'do you do well to be so angry?'"

The story begins with the anger of God. There's a lot of Divine anger in the Old Testament--and in the New as well. We in the mainline churches tend to skip over those passages about Divine anger in the Bible. The idea of God's wrath makes us a bit uneasy, to be frank. And well it should--but truth be told--it's hard to read very far in the Bible without running up against the anger of God.

It's easy to think of the concept of God's anger as the outgrowth of a primitive and narrow view of God-- an outmoded belief that we in our enlightened, progressive understandings can leave to the our more conservative brothers and sisters. But wait a moment--without God's anger, what are we left with?

A God who doesn't get angry is a God who doesn't care. Without the wrath of God, we're stuck with a passive-aggressive Deity who doesn't give a darn when people are exploited, when children are abused and neglected and molested, when women are raped, the innocent are persecuted, the poor are ignored, and prisoners are deprived of their human rights.

Without God's anger, we’re left with a wishy-washy God who ignores, or at best weeps over the slaughter of war, a God who can only mourn the rebirth of slavery and genocide in our so-called enlightened era. We are left with a blind and deaf God who

cannot or will not respond to the prayers of God's people for peace, for justice, for survival.

No. Far better to believe in God, and in God's anger--an anger that is righteous and deserved and proper--directed toward humanity's sin, but assuaged by Divine forgiveness and infinite Mercy. Far better to believe in a God, who, even in the midst of Holy wrath, can still recognize genuine human repentance, and then in turn also repent--turn aside in loving response. Far better to believe in a God who as well as becoming angry, can also forgive. That, by the way, is why the parable of Jonah is often read in synagogues as a text for Yom Kippur-- the Jewish Day of Atonement

"And God said to Jonah, 'Do you do well to be so angry?'”

But what about the anger of Jonah? What about the anger of humanity?

"Jonah said, 'I do well to be so angry, angry enough to die.'"

This is an angry world we live in. This is a world where human resentment and rage surround us. This is a world where violence can bubble up to the surface and erupt at any time, anyplace—a mass shooting, a mugging on the street, a battered spouse, a pregnant wife murdered, a terrorist bombing, a drive-by shooting, a gang fight, a child abused. And it happens on the international scene, as well as in our cities, our neighborhoods, our homes, our families, and yes, even in our churches.

Oh, we put on a civil enough facade. We greet one another with the wish of a good day. We enquire about one another's families. We affirm the value of cooperation and community spirit, of working together for the common good. But underneath, for too many of us, the resentments, the grudges, the envies, the frustrations churn and boil and burn our guts. Eventually they erupt within us in hypertension, heart attacks, or from us in

domestic violence, substance abuse, divorce, even rape and murder and war and terror.

Why are we so angry? Why was Jonah so angry--angry enough to die? Jonah was angry because God had a change of heart. Jonah was angry because things didn't work themselves out in the way he had decided they were supposed to work out. That's why a lot of us are angry in our lives too.

God repented and forgave Ninevah, spared the city and even had the sheer effrontery to do so without consulting Jonah about it! God's anger had not performed according to Jonah's expectations, but had instead been transformed by the mystery of grace into forgiveness. And worse yet, Jonah had been manipulated into playing a major role in saving this city full of his enemies!

"And God said to Jonah, 'do you do well to be so angry?'"

God was angry because God cared about those ignorant souls spending their lives in sin and corruption, hating and oppressing and being oppressed--throwing away God's gracious gift of hope and truth and new life. Jonah, on the other hand, was angry because he didn't care. He only wanted revenge. He only wanted to see his grudge fulfilled. He wanted to see Ninevah destroyed.

God got angry for the sake of God's children. Jonah got angry for his own sweet sake. God's anger was a passing thing, necessary to bring about repentance--both human and Divine. God's anger was an anger eager to be transformed into forgiving love. Jonah's fury was so deep, so implacable, so unchangeable that, given no way to vent it, getting not satisfaction from in, Jonah ultimately wished to die.

The rabbis taught that when a human being is angry, he or she cannot be in a state of conciliation. Whereas, even when God is angry, God is still, always ready for reconciliation. Simply put, God controls the Divine anger, but human anger controls humanity. As it says in Psalm 30

“You anger lasts but for a moment—but your favor for a lifetime”.

Think about it. How is your anger, and mine like that of Jonah? Look at your own anger--if you can--examine all the daily irritations and frustrations that can fuel it.

Ask yourself, if you dare, why do you get angry? Because of all the injustice and wrong you and I see around us every single day in this tear-stained world? Or because you’ve discovered that life and the universe don’t revolve you and your agenda for it?

Ask yourself, if you dare, who do you get angry for? Yourself? Because you have known pain and injustice and are now living a life fraught with difficulties? Or are you angry for the sake of suffering humanity in the grip of violence and hate and sin?

Ask yourself ,if you dare, how ready is your anger to forgive? Can your anger be transformed into forgiveness? Or is it so much a part of you that you cannot let go of it unaided?

Think about it--ask yourself if your anger is serving as a block--a wall between you and other people--and therefore God? Is it shutting out the light? Is it turning away the gift of life? Does your rage and grudge-holding keep God's love away from you at arm's length? “Forgive us our trespasses, our sins, our wrong-doings, our anger—as we forgive…”

In order to accept love, you and I must be able to love in return. And in order to accept the love of God, we simply have to be willing to get rid of our anger and simply learn to forgive.

How do we pull that off? We must learn to forgive ourselves as we have been forgiven—that we may forgive. We must learn to love ourselves and love others— even those who have wronged us. We must learn to FAST— forgive, accept, surrender, thank.

You and I have to first be willing to let go of our anger—even when it is justified—and simply be willing to FORGIVE. Even if we only half-way mean it. That first step is crucial.

Having begun the process, we next learn to ACCEPT the other person and the Divine forgiveness waiting for us. To understand all is to forgive all—or at least to begin to accept is the process.

Once forgiven and accepted, we will be able to SURRENDER our anger and our

selves to God, who will transform and return the rage/energy behind our anger as positive energy and integrity—within our hearts, within our lives, and within this blood-soaked, tear-stained, sin-drenched planet we live upon.

And then, at last, you and I will--through the grace of God, be able to give THANKS— at last whole and at peace.

This is the parable of Jonah--a fish story--a probing story. Yet it is not a story about whales or fish or sea monsters at all. It's not a story about bean plants eaten by worms. When you come down to it, it's a story about anger, and even more basically, it’s a story about forgiveness—and love.

The love of God-- a love that in Jesus Christ, will never let us go. it is a love that will not allow itself forever to be rejected. It is a love that will pursue us even to the bottom of the sea, even into the belly of the beast, even to the very end of time if need be. It is a love that will relentlessly woo us away from our petty hates and angers and frustrations, and feuds and fights. It is a love that seeks to win us away from all that, in order to win us for our God.

"And God said to Jonah, 'do you do well to be so angry?'"

Let us pray, We thank you O God, for your Divine Anger--which lasts bit for a moment, and for your love--which is infinite and touches us all. We thank you O God, for your forgiveness--which touches us all. And we ask you to teach us to forgive, as we have already been forgiven. Amen.