God said to Jonah, “Get up and go to
Nineveh,
and proclaim to
it the message I tell you.”
“Get up and go.”
It wasn’t the first time God had said
such a thing.
God said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh and
tell him
to
let my people go.”
God likes that word “go.”
Isaiah stood before the throne and heard
God wondering,
“Who
shall I send and who will go for us.”
The prophet replied. “Here I am. Send
me.”
And God said “Go and tell this people (my
message.)
So when God told Jonah to “get up and
go,”
he’d
said it before.
And he would say it again.
Jesus’ last words to his disciples were,
“Go
and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing
them . . . and teaching them. . . .”
When I look at churches I see a lot of
“abide
in my love” religion,
but
not so much “get up and go” religion.
Jonah didn’t much want to go anywhere
either.
God dispatched Jonah to Ninevah,
capital
of Assyria – the cruelest empire ever.
God sent Jonah to carry a word of tough
love to Ninevah.
If it had been an irrevocable curse,
Jonah
might have done that.
He hated Ninevah.
He decidedly did not want to see them
turn
around and live in God’s mercy.
So Jonah took a ship the opposite
direction.
But, as we know, God rather insisted.
So, Jonah reluctantly delivered God’s
message to the evil empire
and
they were saved.
What does this story say to us?
Jesus said “You are the light of the
world.
No
one lights a lamp and puts it under a bushel.”
Well Jesus had never been in an Episcopal
Church.
More often than not, we do just that.
We like to keep the lamp of God
for
our own family nightlight,
rather
than spread that light into a darkened world.
What is our Ninevah?
It is not so far as Assyria was from
Judah.
Our Ninevah is the secular world – not in
a distant land,
but
right here in this Oasis of Nevada.
87% of the state of our state is
functionally unchurched.
They may be on membership rolls
somewhere,
but
87% rarely inhabit a pew.
Maybe that’s their business – not ours.
Then again that’s what Jonah said about
Ninevah.
So maybe we need to ask this question
about 87% of our neighbors:
how’s
that working for them?
Let’s just do a spiritual assessment of our
home state.
I don’t mean to pass moral judgments and
wag a pious finger.
I mean a needs assessment.
How are our neighbors doing when it comes
to hope and joy,
serenity
and courage?
Do they have a “sure and certain hope”
that all will be well?
Nevada has the 4th highest
suicide rate in the United States.
Suicide is the 2nd most common
cause of death of Nevadans
between
15 and 24 years of age.
Nationally, in the 2nd decade
of major drops in church attendance,
suicides
among people 35 to 64 increased by 30%
Our rate of deaths from alcoholic liver
disease
is
1.7 times the national rate.
That means we have almost twice as many
people
dying
of drink as elsewhere in America.
Meanwhile we lead the nation in women
killed
by
domestic violence.
Does that sound like a people who have
soaked
in
the 23rd Psalm or the Lord’s Prayer or Romans Chapter 8?
“Neither death nor life, neither angels
nor demons,
neither the
present nor the future,
neither height
nor depth,
nor anything in
all creation can separate us from
the love of God
that is in Christ Jesus Our Lord.”
Ain’t that good news?
Brothers and sisters, hope and joy are
our stock and trade.
With 87% of our neighbors unchurched,
and
so many signs that they are in despair,
that
ought to tell us something about our mission.
There are folks out there who need to be
in here.
The people just outside that door are our
Ninevah.
And we don’t want to go there. I get
that.
Sharing faith is not so safe.
We cannot keep it for ourselves.
We cannot hold it within the confines of
a sect
of
like-minded people who already know each other.
God’s love hoarded in a congregation
turns stagnant and brackish
like a dammed up
stream.
But God’s love is a wild rushing river.
You can dam it up to keep the water all
in one place,
but
then it isn’t a wild rushing river anymore.
If we want to live in God’s love,
then
it has to flow all the way through us
to
those outside.
We
have to go to Nineveh.
I don’t mean door-to-door proselytizing.
But we need to ask at least these three
things:
First, are we organizing ourselves
in
a way to spread the Gospel;
or
are we planning how to maintain our group
the
way it is?
Are we planning for maintenance or for
mission?
Second, what are we offering our
neighbors?
I saw a billboard ad for a church last
week.
It said: “Relationship problems? We can
help.”
The average Nevadan driving down the road
isn’t
thinking about Jesus or wondering
what
time our services are.
She’s thinking about her relationships.
If we can help people sink the roots of
their relationships
in
God’s love, they just might not shoot each other.
That’s only one example.
The point is: we need to provide what
people need
and
let them know about it.
We serve a lot of sandwiches in our soup
kitchens,
and
that’s a good thing.
But what about people who are hungry for
some healing
of
the heart and spirit?
Finally, it may be unacceptable to tell
unbelievers
right
off about our relationship with Jesus
–
but what about provocative things happening at church
and
how much we value them?
If we go to a movie and like it, we tell
a friend.
If there is something worth mentioning at
church,
would
we tell a friend?
And if there isn’t anything happening at
church
we
would want to share with a friend,
maybe
there ought to be.
Maybe a needs assessment for the wider
community
can
start with ourselves.
What do we need to make our lives happier
and holier,
more
meaningful and serene,
Do we need to learn better ways to pray?
Do we need to have some fun?
Then if we are doing something that makes
life better,
we
might we be willing to tell a friend.
It is a good thing to minister to the
needs of anyone
who
is suffering for whatever reason.
Feeding a hungry person we will not see
again
is
still a good thing.
But to touch the aching heart of someone
who
may become part of our family of faith
–
frankly that is harder.
We are reluctant to form those bonds.
But that’s where the spiritual action is.
That’s the point at which we are all at
risk of being transformed.
Maybe that’s what makes us nervous about
Ninevah.
But maybe Ninevah is the place our joy
will be complete. Amen.