Monday of Week 27 of Ordinary Time – First Reading

Commentary on Jonah 1:1—2:1,11

The book of Jonah is one of the most delightful in the whole Bible. It is probably the only book where the author wrote with his tongue firmly in his cheek. While there are marvellous things in the Bible, humour is generally not one of its characteristics. There is a lot of humour, of the biting kind, in this book. And, what is even more rare, the laugh is mainly on the chief character.

Although it is written in a narrative style, it is not history. It is a didactic story with a moral—and a very important moral at that. The fact that it is a book which can provoke laughter does not mean that its message is to be taken lightly. In fact, it is one of the most radical of Old Testament writings and has been described as being on the threshold of the gospel. We will see why as we read on.

Today’s reading sets the stage for the unfolding of the story. As the story opens, the word of Yahweh is addressed to a man called Jonah, son of Amittai. There is mention, in fact, of a prophet Jonah in the Second Book of Kings, who lived at the time of Jeroboam II (786-746 BC). This story, which was written some 300 years after that time, is not about him, but just uses his name.

As a prophet, Jonah is told to go to the great city of Nineveh and warn them that God is displeased with their great wickedness. According to Genesis, Nineveh was first built by Nimrod (perhaps along with Rehoboth Ir, Calah and Resen) and was traditionally known as the “great city”. About 700 BC, Sennacherib made it the capital of Assyria, which it remained until its fall in 612 BC. It was long destroyed by the time this book was written. It would have been about 800 km from Gath Hepher, Jonah’s hometown, a long way for the prophet to travel.

Except for violent behaviour mentioned later on in the story, the “wickedness” of Nineveh is not described. The prophet Nahum later states that Nineveh’s sins included plotting evil against the Lord, cruelty and plundering in war, prostitution and witchcraft and commercial exploitation.  In any case, Jonah, as a pious Hebrew, would take rampant immorality and its rejection by Yahweh as a given in such a great pagan city.

Not only was its immorality to be taken for granted, as far as Jonah is concerned, its people should be left to the fate of all wicked unbelievers. Jonah is appalled at the idea of trying to convert them and does not want to go there. It seems he has no intention of having anything to do with such wicked pagans. They deserve all that God can throw against them.

So Jonah sets off westward, the opposite direction, and boards a ship at Joppa (the modern Israeli city of Jaffa) bound for Tarshish to get as far away as possible from both Nineveh and Yahweh—quite a futile thing to do. As Psalm 139 puts it:

Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast. (Ps 139:7-10)

Jonah will soon find out how true these words are.

For the Jews ‘Tarshish’ represented the end of the world. The word may be a corruption of Tartessus, a Phoenician mining colony near Gibraltar in southern Spain.  Perhaps the modern equivalent would be Timbuctoo!

The ship has hardly got under way when Yahweh hurls a mighty wind and such a great storm blows up that the ship is in danger of breaking up. This is just one of several interventions by Yahweh in the story. Jonah’s disobedience has not only put his own life in danger, but is threatening the lives of a totally innocent crew.

In an effort to save their lives, the sailors throw the cargo overboard to lighten the ship and then each one prays to his own god—perhaps one of them will bring the help they need. One person, however, is not doing any praying. Jonah is below decks fast asleep. He is not only indifferent to his own fate, but also that of his shipmates. Maybe he thinks ‘his’ Yahweh will take care of his prophet, even a disobedient prophet.

However, these pagans are shown to be somewhat more religious than Jonah gives them credit for. Certainly his behaviour is in stark contrast to the captain who is using every possible method, including prayer to every known god, to save those on board. And he wakes up Jonah and urges him to call on his god, who might be able to do what the other gods do not seem to be able to do. The “pagan” captain’s concern for the welfare of everyone on board contrasts with the ‘believing'(?) prophet’s refusal to bring God’s mercy and compassion to the people of Nineveh.

As a last resort, the sailors come to the correct conclusion that there is someone on board who is bringing them all this misfortune. They cast lots to find out who it is and—surprise, surprise—the lot falls on Jonah. In the context of the story, this is no chance accident.

The casting of lots was a custom widely practiced in the ancient Near East. The precise method is unclear, though it appears that, for the most part, sticks or marked pebbles were drawn from a receptacle into which they had been thrown. Games such as this are still found in various parts of the world.

Immediately, the sailors begin to interrogate Jonah to find out where he comes from. He replies:

I am a Hebrew…I worship the Lord, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land.

The sailors would have understood Jonah’s words as being descriptive of the highest divinity. Their present experiences confirm this truth, since, in the religions of the ancient Near East generally, the supreme god was master of the seas.

This is Jonah’s first confessional statement, and, like those that follow, it is thoroughly orthodox. Though orthodox in his beliefs, Jonah refuses to fulfil his divine mission to Nineveh. It is important for us, too, to realise that theological orthodoxy is not enough to fulfil the most important requirements of Christian discipleship. The Pharisees were impeccably orthodox as well.

The sailors are terrified at Jonah’s self-revelation. They now know the cause of their peril. A believer in the god who controls the seas has disobeyed his god and made him angry. And they are all the victims of his disobedience. “What is this that you have done!”, they say to him—a rhetorical question that needs no answer. Then, as the sea gets rougher and rougher, they then ask Jonah what they are to do with him in order to restore calm in the sea. It seems as if they are looking for a way to save their lives, but without doing harm to Jonah. Once again, the pagan’s care for the Hebrew far surpasses the Hebrew’s care for them. This is all part of the central lesson of the story.

At last, Jonah begins to accept responsibility for the situation:

Pick me up and throw me into the sea; then the sea will quiet down for you, for I know it is because of me that this great storm has come upon you.

At the same time, Jonah’s readiness to die to save the terrified sailors contrasts with his later behaviour when he leaves Nineveh expecting to watch its destruction by Yahweh at a safe distance—which of course, to his great chagrin and disappointment does not happen.

Even now, the sailors are still reluctant to do what Jonah suggests, even to save their own lives. Instead, they tried to row hard in order to reach the shore (it probably was not very far away; ships in those days tended to stay close to the shore rather than risk being caught in the open sea). In Hebrew, the language uses the picturesque word meaning ‘to dig’ (with the oars) to indicate their strenuous efforts. Again, the reluctance of the sailors to throw Jonah into the sea stands in sharp contrast to Jonah’s reluctance to bring God’s warning to Nineveh of impending judgment.

Finally, and still with great misgivings, the sailors make their prayer to Jonah’s god Yahweh, asking him not to hold them responsible for the death of an innocent man’s life:

Please, O Lord, we pray, do not let us perish on account of this man’s life. Do not make us guilty of innocent blood, for you, O Lord, have done as it pleased you.

They then toss Jonah into the raging sea which immediately becomes calm. They have done the right thing. At the same time, the sudden calm fills them with great fear.

Jonah’s God is truly Master of the seas and they offer him a sacrifice and make vows. They know that only the most powerful of gods can control the seas and the wind. Remember too, the reaction of the disciples after Jesus had calmed the storm on the lake:

What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him? (Matt 8:27)

They are both shocked and afraid that Jonah can be so disobedient to his God and they try to make up for his terrible behaviour. The author also emphasises the piety of the pagan sailors. They are scandalised that Jonah should disobey Yahweh, and are themselves afraid to offend Yahweh by sacrificing Jonah, and then offer worship to Jonah’s God whose power they recognise.

And such is the providence of God. He turns even the disobedience of Jonah into a grace for those sailors, a grace they would not have experienced had Jonah gone to Nineveh in the first place—God’s straight writing with crooked lines.

Of course, there is no evidence that the sailors renounced all their other gods as a result of this experience. Ancient pagans were ready to recognise the existence and power of many gods. At the least, however, the sailors acknowledge that the God of Israel is in control of the present events, that he is the one who both stirred up and calmed the storm, and that at this moment he is the one to be recognised and worshipped.

Once again Yahweh intervenes and arranges that a big fish should swallow Jonah, who remained in the belly of the fish for three days and three nights. The “big fish” is not likely to have been a whale, which is not found in the Mediterranean. It is not to be confused either with ‘Leviathan’, the sinister “serpent” of the sea (see Amos 9:3) or the “dragon” (see Job 7:12 and other texts).

“Three days and three nights” may, as in the burial of Jesus (Friday evening to Sunday morning), refer to a period of time including one full day and parts of two others. In any case, the New Testament clearly uses Jonah’s experience as a foreshadowing of the burial and resurrection of Jesus, who was buried in the earth for “three days and three nights” (Matt 12:40).

While inside the fish, Jonah made a long prayer of distress and appeal to Yahweh, which is not included in our readings. And, on the third day, again at the command of Yahweh, the fish “vomits” Jonah on to dry land.

He is back where he started. And, not surprisingly, this gives Jonah some time to reflect on his situation. When the next call comes, he will respond differently—up to a point.

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Monday of Week 27 of Ordinary Time – Gospel

Commentary on Luke 10:25-37

As we accompany Jesus firmly on his way to Jerusalem we come across this beautiful incident which is only to be found in Luke. Imagine our loss if this Gospel had not been handed down to us. What other treasures of Jesus have we in fact lost over the centuries?

We are told that a scribe approached Jesus with the intention of putting him on the defensive and perhaps making him contradict the teaching of the Law. It is not clear whether this was just a single attack or part of a conspiracy. The question sounded simple, the kind that anyone would put to a religious teacher:

What must I do to inherit eternal life?

As so often happens, Jesus throws the question back at his interrogator. In fact, as a scribe, the man should already know the answer and Jesus asks him his opinion.

He replies as a scribe might be expected to, not in his own words, but quoting two passages from the Pentateuch, from the books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus which say we are to love God with all our heart and soul and our neighbour as ourselves. Jesus says in response:

You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.

However, the man is not satisfied:

…wanting to vindicate himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor”?

For him “neighbor” meant, of course, only other Jews like himself, but did it include every Jew, even those who did not follow the Law? Was he supposed to love them also?

The answer Jesus gave must have come as a surprise, not to say a shock. And it came in the form of a kind of parable. It is the story we know as the parable of the Good Samaritan. In the eyes of most Jews of the time, such a term would be a contradiction because it was about someone from Samaria. It would be like saying someone is a ‘good terrorist’.

It is most likely (for the story to have meaning) that the man who was set upon by robbers and left half dead on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho was a Jew. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was a distance of about 30 km and involved a drop from about 800 metres above sea level to about 150 metres below sea level. It ran through rocky and desert country providing ample opportunity for hidden robbers to waylay unwitting travellers.

In the story, three people saw the injured man there. Two of them were religious people, people expected to be lovers of God and neighbour. Yet both carefully passed by on the other side. It is most likely that they were going in the opposite direction, that is, they were on their way from Jericho to Jerusalem and the Temple. The injured man would have been covered in blood. No one intending to go to pray in the Temple would dare to become contaminated and made ritually unclean by coming in contact with blood. In other words, they ignored the man for religious reasons.

But then a Samaritan came by. He was, in the eyes of the Jews, an alien and a heretic. There was strong hostility between the two neighbouring peoples on historical, geographical, racial and religious grounds. The Samaritan was regarded as a ‘half-breed’ both physically and spiritually. They were ethnically related and shared some of the Jewish beliefs, but were seen as heretics, ‘half-Jews’. We remember how surprised the Samaritan woman by the well of Jacob was when she was spoken to by Jesus, who would have been expected to ignore her.

This despised outsider, presumed to have nothing of the spirit of God’s mercy and compassion, gives the Jew lying on the ground the attention that the two other religious-minded men refuse to give. In fact, the Samaritan went to extraordinary lengths to take care of the injured man, sparing no expense. Two silver coins may not seem very much, but it represented two days’ wages and would have been enough to keep someone for up to two months in a wayside inn.

It is difficult for us, now in our time, to understand the impact that such a story would have had on the traditional Jewish listener, not to mention a scribe. In our world today, it would be something like a Palestinian fighter coming to the help of an Israeli soldier or vice versa. Perhaps you can think of examples closer to home.

The question of Jesus is interesting:

Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?

The answer of the scribe is equally interesting:

The one who showed him mercy.

The answer then to the question, “Who is my neighbour?” is not, as we learnt in our catechism, “Everybody”, though that is true. The answer of Jesus is: A neighbour is someone who shows compassion to another in need—irrespective of who the helper or the person in need may be. It is less a question of seeing every other person as my neighbour, but much more importantly, of my being actively a neighbour to others, not on the basis of their race, nationality, occupation, gender, skin colour, or beliefs, but on the basis of need. And who does not need love and compassion?

Finally, in answer to an academic, theological question, “Who is my neighbour?” Jesus tells the scribe not what or who is his neighbour, but to:

Go and do likewise.

In other words, to go and be a neighbour.

The story has a secondary lesson for us about stereotyping. For the Jews there was the negative stereotype of the Samaritan (which was probably reciprocated). Our world today is full of stereotypes. We have stereotypes of practically every race and ethnic group and skin colour, every gender and political persuasion, and they can influence our attitudes deeply and often unconsciously.

With regard to race, certainly each race can have recognisable characteristics—Jews, Italians, Irish, Germans, French, Chinese, Indians, Japanese, Africans—arising from language and traditions, but it is an irrational jump to attribute to every member of a group generalised characteristics. We can never say that “Irish are…”, or “Chinese are…”, or “Africans are…” There are too many exceptions.

Every single person has to be approached individually and there are good, bad and indifferent people to be found in every group, including our own. But they all have one thing in common: they should be confident of being helped by good neighbours in their time of need.

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