Responding to the Call
based on Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Mark 1:14-20
Rev. Karen A. Goltz
Jonah spoke eight words to the people of
Nineveh, and every man, woman, child and animal in that city responded
by turning from their evil ways, proclaiming a fast, and putting on
sackcloth and ashes as a sign of their repentance. Jesus spoke ten
words, and Simon, Andrew, James and John responded by abandoning their
livelihoods, the tools of their trade, and their families to embark on a
journey of intense discipleship. If I were to split the difference and
preach a sermon of nine words, how would you respond?
Some of you might call the bishop and complain; others of you might tell
me it’s the best sermon I’ve ever preached, and I should do that more
often. (Unfortunately for those of you in the second group, I’ve already
spoken over a hundred and twenty five words, and I’m just getting
started.) But in either case, it’s unlikely you’d make as dramatic a
change as the Ninevites or fishermen did.
Why not? Is there a single statement I could make that would cause you
to upend your lives and submit your entire beings to God? Perhaps in the
style of Jonah: Forty days more and New Hampshire will be overthrown!
I think most of us would respond to that by asking for more information.
Overthrown how? By whom? The entire population, or just the government?
Local, state, federal, or all of the above? Will we become part of
Vermont? Or worse, Massachusetts? Who are you, and who sent you, and how
do you know this?
No, I don’t think the Jonah approach would work here. What about the
Jesus approach, more inviting and less threatening? Follow Jesus, and he
will make you gather even more people to follow him.
I think we’d question that one, too. Follow Jesus where? Why should we?
For how long? What about my job, my house, my family? What’s the point
of gathering more people? Why me? No, I don’t think I could get away
with the Jesus approach to the single statement sermon, either.
Part of the problem is the messenger. I’m not putting myself down, but
I’m not Jesus. I’m not Jonah, either. Or I don’t know, I could be,
actually. We don’t really know who Jonah was. We only know what happened
to him. God told him to go to Nineveh, and Jonah ran as fast and as far
as he could in the opposite direction. God caught up with him and gave
him a three-day time-out in the belly of a whale to think about it, and
then told him again to go to Nineveh. This time he went.
We laugh at Jonah, and it is kind of funny, but he also deserves some
compassion. The impact of what God wants him to do is lost on us, but
you’ve got to understand: one of the few things we do know about Jonah
is that he’s a Hebrew, and we know that Nineveh is the capital of
Assyria. Assyria had conquered and virtually destroyed the northern
kingdom of Israel, and then kept the southern kingdom as a tributary for
nearly a hundred years. Assyria, including Nineveh, was hated and feared
by the Hebrews. God telling Jonah to go to Nineveh is roughly the same
as God telling any one of us to go to the Taliban’s compound. How many
of you would try to run if God called you to do that? I know I would.
But eventually Jonah goes to this city full of people he hates, and who
hate him. Probably expecting to be killed at any moment, he says what
God told him to say. “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!”
Can you imagine going to the Taliban’s compound and telling the people
there that they’ll be overthrown in forty days? Would you live long
enough to even utter the statement? And if you did, would you want to
try to warn them so that they could be saved? I think most of us would
utter that proclamation with glee and expectation, looking forward to
their destruction. As did Jonah, who finished his proclamation and then
went and made himself comfortable in a place with a good view of the
city, to watch its demise.
But the city’s demise didn’t happen. The people of Nineveh believed
Jonah, and repented. God changed his mind, and had mercy on them. They
got to live.
It wasn’t Jonah’s preaching that did it. The repentance of Nineveh was a
miracle that could only be accomplished by God himself. God sent Jonah,
not so he could be a prophet to Nineveh, but so he could be a prophet to
us. God sent Jonah to witness that God’s love and mercy can and does
extend to those outside the covenant, even to those whose destruction we
pray for. God sent Jonah so he could see with his own eyes that God’s
love and mercy truly has no bounds.
It’s similar with Jesus’ ten words to his new disciples. “Follow me, and
I will make you fish for people.” It’s not what was said, but who said
it. Jonah was merely a Hebrew prophet, a regular person just like the
rest of us. But this, this is Jesus, Son of God, Word of God incarnate.
You hear the Word of God from this pulpit every week, but you hear the
Word from a person. Simon, Andrew, James and John heard the Word from
the Word. Even if they didn’t quite know who was speaking to them, it
must have been powerful.
And Jesus didn’t just speak a generic call; he knew who they were, knew
their language, and spoke as they could understand. They were working
men, and they understood the business of fishing. Jesus called them to
do what they’d spent their lives training to do: Jesus called them to
fish. Not knowing anything else, they knew they could do that.
‘Call’ seems to be one of those church words that doesn’t get used much
outside. Congregations enter a period of discernment in order to extend
a call to a pastor, which the pastor, after a period of discernment,
will accept or decline. But pastors are not the only ones who are
called, and churches are not the only place where calls happen.
We have soldiers in this congregation. You were called to serve and
protect this country, and you accepted that call. We have teachers in
this congregation. You were called to instruct and nurture our young
people, and you accepted that call. We have health workers in this
congregation. You were called to provide healing and comfort to the
sick, and you accepted that call. We have government employees in this
congregation. You were called to be stewards of this nation’s
infrastructure, and you accepted that call. We have sales people in this
congregation. You were called to help people find the products they need
in an ethical way, and you accepted that call. We have homemakers in
this congregation. You were called to support your families and provide
a loving and safe haven from the troubles of this world, and you
accepted that call. We have retired people in this congregation. You
were called to encourage the younger generations with your wisdom and
experience, and you accepted that call. I could go on and on, naming the
students, the business people, the store clerks, the laborers, but the
point is that Jesus calls each and every one of us, and he calls us to
do what we know.
We’re also called to discipleship. And that means we may be called to do
uncomfortable or even unpleasant things, like Jonah. We may be called to
forgive someone who has purposely hurt us, even if they don’t seem to
want our forgiveness. We may be called to help someone who we know will
take advantage of our kindness, but help them anyway because they’re
genuinely in need. We may be called to step outside our comfort zone and
take on some responsibility for this congregation, even though we don’t
feel like good leaders or examples. We may be called to do without
something we want, because someone else is lacking something they need.
But whatever we’re called to do, we’re called to do it as ourselves, as
people who are loved and accepted by Christ, with all our shortcomings
and weaknesses, simple fishermen called to do great things with their
craft, ultimately becoming the foundation of the church.
I can preach a nine word sermon. I don’t know if it will transform you,
or even affect you at all. But all I can do is preach it, and trust that
God will work whatever miracles he wants to work with his word. So here
goes.
Christ accepts you as you are. Why not follow?