Rev. Nick Cheek
Luke 6:27-37 and Jonah 4:1-11
Has anyone ever watched the ’90s hit sitcom, Seinfeld? I love it! There are two characters in the show who provide most of the comic relief, George and Kramer. In one episode, they are invited to a party at a Manhattan hotel, but they have no vehicle, so they borrow George’s father’s car, which just so happens to be his prized possession – a blue 1978 Mercury Monarch. George’s father is nervous, but they promise to take special care of the car. When they arrive late to the party, the only spot they can find in the entire parking garage is a handicap space. Kramer convinces George to take the space. No one will know… nothing’s gonna happen. Right? Anxiously, George parks, and they sneak to the elevator when no one is watching. Time passes. They have a wonderful time at the party…, but as they’re walking back to their car, they hear a commotion. As they get closer to where they parked, they realize an angry mob of people has congregated around the Mercury Monarch. It turns out a woman recovering from a broken leg has just driven up, and she has no place to park. George and Kramer realize they’re in for it. They can’t just march in there and jump in the car without getting noticed, so they step away and devise some sort of a plan to divert the mob’s attention before they make a getaway. To their dismay, when they return, the mob is gone, and George’s father’s car has been trashed. Broken windshield, bags of trash dumped on it, flat tires, and more.
I think we like to hear stories about folks who get what they deserve. It seems to be part of our human nature. If we see a man berating a waiter in training who is having a difficult night… and by accident a drink spills all over him… we can’t help but think – “he had that coming.” When we are standing in the grocery line, and the woman in front of us is vocally losing her patience with the cashier… we can’t help but smile a little as we see her eggs splatter to the pavement while loading her car in the parking lot. “Serves her right.” When someone recklessly speeds by us on the highway, we love nothing more than to see that same car pulled over a couple of miles down the road with blue flashing lights behind it. “Karma…” we say, under our breath. It’s true church. Sometimes we enjoy watching people get what they deserve… So did Jonah.
In our story this morning, Jonah was hoping that the Ninevites would receive from God what they deserved. He felt as though they had gotten away with too much, and therefore, these people deserved punishment, they deserved destruction, they deserved God’s wrath. According to Jonah, they were sinners, unjust, and corrupt. He’s not wrong. In many ways, it’s hard to argue with Jonah on this one. We learned last week that Nineveh was indeed a violent city filled with some blatant injustice. Nineveh was also historically an enemy of Israel and Judah – they were an enemy of God’s people. These were not simply people Jonah disagreed with. These were people who had caused real harm and posed a real threat to Jonah’s people. So maybe they really should receive what they deserve. I mean, if you play with fire, shouldn’t you get burned? That’s only fair… And the truth is, Jonah’s thinking is not all that foreign to us. This is often how we think about our enemies. When people threaten what we value, hurt the people we love, or stand against what we believe is right, instead of hoping for their transformation, we sometimes hope for their devastation. We want them to lose, to be shamed, to be punished. We want them to get what they deserve.
In Jonah’s mind, Nineveh had become that kind of enemy. And once we reach the point where we can call someone an enemy, it is often easier to imagine their destruction rather than their redemption.
Church. I have a serious and loaded question for you this morning. It’s not an easy one. Who is your Nineveh? Who are the people, the groups, that you believe don’t deserve mercy? We all have them. More often than not, our Nineveh is not folks we openly hate. It is the folks we have quietly written off. The people whose politics frustrate us, whose values confuse us, whose choices disappoint us. Who is your Ninevah church? Who are the people you would rather avoid than understand? Who are the people whose repentance you would distrust, whose healing you would resent, whose forgiveness would feel unfair? Who are the people you struggle to imagine God loving? Who are the people you find hardest to pray for, hardest to forgive, and hardest to believe can change? Hardest to love? That’s who Ninevah represents this morning. Those who we think deserve judgment more than they deserve God’s love and mercy.
The book of Jonah is written in such a way that the reader initially stands with Jonah. The reader agrees, Nineveh does deserve fire and wrath. That’s how it should be. It’s only right that they should be punished. But then something unexpected happens. The judgment we anticipate never comes. Instead of destruction, there is repentance. Instead of wrath, there is mercy. God does not respond as Jonah … or the reader might expect.
Scholar Leslie Allen argues that Jonah’s struggle is not really with Nineveh. It is actually with God. More specifically, it is with a God whose mercy refuses to stay within the boundaries Jonah has drawn. Jonah is comfortable with God’s grace when it is extended to his people. He is grateful for God’s compassion when it benefits his purposes. What troubles Jonah is the possibility that God might show that same compassion to those he detests. Jonah wanted to draw a circle around God’s mercy and decide who belongs inside… but to his dismay, God keeps making the circle larger and larger. The very thing Jonah loves most about God becomes the very thing he struggles with when it is extended to his enemies.
When Jonah witnesses Nineveh’s repentance and transformation, he turns to God and says, “I knew it. I knew this was what you would do. I knew that you are gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. I knew you would be gracious… and it drives me crazy!”
Friends, this again is where Jonah becomes an accidental prophet. He speaks the truth about the God we serve. He admits that he really does know who God is. He knows God is compassionate. He knows God delights in mercy. He knows God is patient and steadfast in his love for us. He knew that if Nineveh turned toward God, God would welcome them and forgive them. He knew that God’s mercy was wide enough to reach even Nineveh.
This whole book we’ve been traveling through is about God’s great love. And Jonah has experienced it the entire way. Even when Jonah disobeyed God’s calling… and took off in the opposite direction, God’s love followed after him. Even when Jonah hid in the bowls of a ship in the middle of the sea… God’s love shook him out of his apathy. Even as Jonah sank into the depths of the sea, God’s love swallowed him up. Over and over again, the story of Jonah is the story of God’s love and compassion.
And now… even here on the dry land, as Jonah’s frustrations are thrown at his God… the Lord’s steadfast love still continues to be persistent. Out of God’s kindness, the Lord shelters Jonah and cares for him. As he is pouting and complaining about how hot it is… God provided a small tree to give Jonah shade. And then God asks Jonah one last question: “Jonah, is it right for you to be angry? Should I not care about Nineveh? Should I not care about this great city and its people?” And that is how the story ends. It ends with a question.
Author Philip Cary reflects on this final question and its connection to the larger story of Scripture. He writes: “The Lord here calls the Ninevites by the name Adam, which is the generic word for human being as well as the name of the first human being God created, from whom all of us are descended. The word should remind Jonah of this deep and natural kinship of all humanity, which includes himself. Jonah must not forget that he is a son of Adam, arguing with God about the destruction of so many children of Adam. All of these in the city are Adam… each one of them is the Lord’s creation, and everything God does in Scripture is aimed at vindicating creation from the powers of death and destruction.”
Maybe Nineveh did get what it deserved. Maybe, simply because they are made of the same stuff we are—formed from the dust of the earth and breathed into by God—they deserved love and grace. Just like you. Just like me. Just like everyone. That is where the story of Jonah culminates. It teaches us that every person bears the image of God and is therefore worthy of dignity, compassion, and care. No person, no matter how broken, how lost, or how much we may disagree with them, is beyond the reach of God’s mercy. That is the heart of the gospel. It is what Jesus preached. It is what Jesus lived. It is who Jesus was. Again and again, he extended mercy to those others dismissed, avoided, condemned, or counted unworthy. And the very people the world said did not deserve mercy became the first recipients of it.
We don’t know what comes of Jonah. There is no closure. We like to hope Jonah fully comprehends God’s extravagant love for Nineveh – but the author leaves the epilogue out. The author purposely ends the story with that question – “Should I not care about Nineveh?” because the question is not only for Jonah – it is for us. We are the ones who cannot tell the story with how we answer it. Should we care about Nineveh… should we wish and hope for God’s mercy to extend… not only to us and those we love… but those we don’t? Who is your Nineveh church… and shouldn’t we too, be concerned for them. Shouldn’t we, too, hope for God’s mercy to cover them with grace?
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.