Why did Jonah run away? Why was he so grumpy about being sent to Nineveh, to warn the Ninevites that God wanted them to change their ways? … 

Well: Nineveh was the capital of the Assyrian Empire, and for a while it may have been the wealthiest city of the ancient world. Because the armies of Assyria had conquered so much territory, they could take the best of the best from all over the ancient world.

Some of our young folks may remember working with the story of Judith for Drama Camp last summer. Judith bravely helps save her town – and her country, including the holy city of Jerusalem – from invasion by the Assyrian Empire. But the Book of Judith also describes how the Assyrian army, led by their commander Holofernes, marched across a massive region, crushing any nation or tribe or city that didn’t immediately surrender. The book dedicates many chapters to that military campaign and associated destruction, but the summary from our Drama Camp script gets the idea across: “[They] looted Chaldea, and destroyed every city along the Euphrates. [They] seized the region of Japheth, and plundered the Midianites. [They] burned the fields of Damascus, destroyed their flocks, sacked their cities, and killed their young men.” And although it’s historically true that Assyria did not conquer Judea and Jerusalem, they did conquer the Northern Kingdom of Israel, and killed or dispersed the Jewish tribes who had been living there. 

It’s not clear when the Book of Jonah was written down – and I suspect it had a long life as a story people told each other, before it became a text – but certainly the text assumes that Nineveh, and Assyria, are the enemy. They are fierce and powerful. They take whatever they want. They worship the wrong gods. They are an existential threat to the Jews, their country, their way of life and worship. 

That’s why Jonah doesn’t really want to save them! Jonah doesn’t want them to be warned, to have the chance to repent. He wants God to smite them good. 

So when God calls Jonah to go to Nineveh, he runs away. And the whole rest of the book is actually much more about whether Jonah will be converted, will change his heart, than about whether the Ninevites will. 

Because honestly? The conversion of Nineveh is a snooze. When Jonah finally gets there and starts prophesying to them about how God wants them to change their ways, this utterly improbable thing happens: Nineveh repents, fully and instantly. And God does what God so often does: God has mercy. 

The story of Jonah is one of the options for the Easter Vigil because Jonah being inside the fish for three days is a little like Jesus being in the tomb for three days. But there’s a bit more to it. 

In the Gospels, some people ask Jesus for a sign. Do something remarkable and impressive! Prove to us that you’re really God in the flesh! And Jesus says, I will give you no sign but the sign of Jonah. He doesn’t explain what he means, and the Gospels understand it differently. Matthew thinks it’s the fish thing, but Luke seems to focus more on the conversion of Nineveh.  For Luke, Jesus is making a little joke: Jonah gave no prophetic sign to Nineveh, he just walked around telling them that they were on the wrong track, and lo and behold, they repented. Jesus’ answer to the calls for a sign, then, is that there will be no sign; just an invitation to change your heart and your life. 

So, Nineveh repents. Even the animals! And Jonah? Jonah is FURIOUS. 

Jonah’s mission to Nineveh reminds me of other moments in the Bible when God invites people – often somewhat reluctant people – to be part of what God is doing. In an earlier chapter of the Exodus story, God appears to Moses as a burning bush and says, “I have heard the suffering of my people; I am going to save them; I’m sending YOU.” Moses is not pleased. In the story of the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of the dry bones, sometimes read at the Vigil, God doesn’t just command the bones to stand up and come back to life; God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, and to call breath back into them. 

In the New Testament, God tells a man named Ananias to take care of Paul, who has just met Jesus on the road to Damascus and been converted to Christianity – and blinded. Ananias doesn’t want to do it much, because up until about five minutes ago, Paul was actively rounding up Christians for imprisonment and possible execution. 

God could presumably have just appeared directly to the leaders of Nineveh, or sent some of those cool angels with the flaming swords. But instead, God sends Jonah. Twice. 

God seems to want us to have a part in the holy work of proclaiming, reconciling, and redeeming. 

I love Jonah because it’s funny. It’s definitely one of the parts of the bible that’s funny on purpose, and in ways that cross the millennia. And I love Jonah because it rebukes me every time I revisit it. It asks me to reflect on to whom I extend compassion and care, where I draw the lines, and whether God would draw lines there too… 

Jonah has a tantrum about his tree. I get it! There are 100% certain trees that I care about more than certain people. And that is mine to repent of. 

The author of our Lent study book, For Such A Time As This, advises us, “Spot the signs of a person who is ready to change, and allow them to become that new person.” 

I would add: Bear in mind that sometimes that person might be you. 

Much like Jesus’ parable of the two sons – better known as the prodigal son – the book of Jonah feels unfinished. We are left to wonder how the indignant one responds – Jonah, or the faithful older brother. Perhaps, having found ourselves in the story, like it or not, we’re left to write our own ending. 

At the Easter Vigil and on Easter Sunday, we tend to use language of defeat, victory, triumph. Death is vanquished! 

Love wins!! 

But the Love that wins, at Easter, is a Love that extends beyond where we might want it to go, in our hearts of hearts. A Mercy that welcomes, reconciles, mends, reaches and restores…  even the people we would just as soon see God strike down. 

A Mercy that loves each of us just the way we are, but isn’t going to leave us that way.

A Love that yearns for universal redemption – that seeks repentance and transformation for Jonah and Nineveh alike. 

The Book of Jonah asks me: Am I bold enough, hopeful enough, kind enough and fierce enough, to celebrate the victory of a love like that, this Easter? 

Are you? Are we?