The Cost of the Call [Epiphany 3B - Jonah 3:1-5, Mark 1:14-20]

 The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Epiphany 3B

1-21-24

Jonah 3:1-5, 10 & Mark 1:14-20

 

The Cost of the Call

(Albany Deacon’s Retreat)

 

Simon and his brother, Andrew, heard the call of Jesus and immediately left their nets and followed him.  Down the beach a ways, James and his brother, John, heard the call of Jesus and immediately left their father in the boat and followed him.  No questions asked.  No hesitation. 

 

Jonah heard the call and immediately hopped a boat headed in the opposite direction.  He did not follow; he ran away.  Jonah wanted nothing to do with the call of God.  In fact, God would have to package that call with a life-threatening storm and a vomiting fish before Jonah would even begrudgingly ascent to his divine mission.

 

But you wouldn’t know any of that from today’s reading from the book of Jonah.  This morning’s lectionary passage gives us the most sanitized, complimentary picture of Jonah possible.  This is the airbrushed supermodel version of the prophet.  In this little isolated excerpt, Jonah hears the call and goes – not unlike the disciples on the shore.  But in the context of the story, we know that Jonah is preaching the good news of God’s mercy with a scowl on his face.  And, at the end of the book, he is furious when God saves the people of Nineveh.

 

But Jonah has his reasons.  And while we might not consider his reasons good, his reasons are reasonable.  Jonah tried to escape the voice of God because God had the audacity to send him into enemy territory.  During that time, Jonah's people were living under the savage rule of the Assyrian Empire.  Miguel de la Torre graphically describes how the Assyrians treated the nations they conquered: “If enemies [of the Assyrians] resisted surrender during the siege of their city, once defeated, the population would be horribly mutilated and slaughtered.  Their houses and towns would be torn down and burned, and the flayed skins of their corpses prominently displayed on stakes: a strong warning to others who might think of resisting. Public amusement was provided by leading survivors by a leash attached to a ring inserted through their lip. Vanquished nobles were paraded through the city of Nineveh with the decapitated heads of their princes hanging around their necks while merry tunes were played to entertain the public.  Is it any wonder that the Hebrews despised the people of the empire?” And Nineveh, the city to which Jonah is sent, it was the capital of that Assyrian Empire. 

 

And so now, perhaps, you understand why Jonah was so angry, why he boarded a ship to anywhere but Nineveh.  He did not want to see them saved; he did not want to be an instrument of God’s frustrating mercy.  He wanted the people who had abused and killed and humiliated his friends and family to get what they deserved.  He wanted to sit and watch as that horrible city burned to the ground.  Jonah ran because he knew that the call of God is costly.

 

You see, Jonah, unlike the disciples, understood the consequences of his call.  Jonah ran away because he knew how this story would end: not the way he wanted it to end.  He understood the terribly cost of God’s mercy, that God is far too gracious, that God’s love is reckless and offensive, that those who follow the divine call typically end up in unwanted places.  The disciples followed Jesus, immediately and without hesitation, because they had no idea.

 

For the disciples ignorance was bliss.  For some reason, unmentioned in the Gospel of Mark, they immediately left their nets and followed Jesus.  Maybe they were captivated by his presence.  Maybe they had never before been so chosen.  Maybe they were desperate for something new.  Maybe the Spirit just grabbed them by the hearts and dragged them off the beach before they could even process what was happening. 

 

Whatever the reason, they followed Jesus without hesitation and we marvel at their faith.  But what they could not understand on that shore, with the nets still in their hands, was the future they would face, the cost of the call.  They followed Jesus.  But they did not know, in that moment, the pain in the future.  Those innocent souls were following Jesus to the cross.  They would scatter as he died; they would face trials and prison, opposition and hatred.  What they could not, and did not, know when they heard that first call was that it was like a siren song: Jesus was calling them to lose their lives.  Perhaps if they understood, like Jonah did, the cost of following the call, they too would have boarded their boats and sailed away.

 

For those disciples ignorance was bliss – also it wouldn’t last.  Eventually they would see far too much.  On the shore, the disciples did not know the whole story but we do; they did not understand what exactly they were getting into, but we know the cost they paid to follow Jesus.  It is our cost too.  And we know it; we know following Jesus leads us through the shadows of Good Friday.  And yet each one of you said yes to the call: the call to a life of sacrifice and service, a life spent in the footsteps of the One who gave up his very life.  The Bible, the Church calendar, history are filled with receipts, with heart-rending examples of life faithfully lived and still you said yes.

 

And so you will discover, if you haven’t already, that your vocation, the calling God has placed on your life, will be as painful as it is beautiful.  Sometimes it will feel like a day at the beach; sometimes it will feel like being in the belly of the big fish.

 

Deacons, you are the heirs of St. Stephen – a reminder that deacons will take their lumps.  You did not sign up for a life of glamour or prestige.  You are called to get your hands dirty and to expose your hearts.  You are called to love with reckless abandon, like your God, to love until you hurt.  You are called to be shattered on the demands of God’s justice.  And to preach the devastating message of God’s impossible mercy.  You are called to joy but it will be shot through with too many tears and too many scars. 

 

Peter did immediately follow Jesus the first time Jesus called.  But the truth of this Christian life is that Jesus continues to call us.  And not every call is happy.  Not every path is easy to walk.  Not every “yes” bursts forth immediately.  Peter would return to the beach.  And on the beach again, years later, a scarred Peter is called by a scarred Jesus.  The call is more complex and less attractive, less exciting, than the first.  Later, long after the initial innocence had died, Jesus says to Peter, “Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.’  After this Jesus said to him, again, ‘Follow me.’

 

And again Peter followed.  But this time, on the Easter side of the cross, Peter understood the tremendous cost of the call.