Certainties transformed: Jonah and Acts 10:9-35.

Oxley, Simon

Even in an unsure world, most of us have our certainties. We might want to describe some people's certainties as prejudices, but we usually see our own in a positive light. Not all certainties are propositions, but they may be expressed in attitudes and behaviour. It could be argued that these are a better guide to what we are actually certain about than our words. The cost and size of cars in church (and ecumenical organizations') car parks in North America and Western Europe may say more, for example, about our real certainties than our statements about the poor or the environment.

For the purposes of this Bible study, let me tell you of one of my certainties. It is that the church as the locally gathered community of believers does not have just the opportunity or even the responsibility but the duty of discerning the mind of Christ in their understanding and practice of faith. How they do that and what resources they use is a matter for another kind of discussion. Let us take my Baptist certainty, as rather simply stated, as my example. Now take one of your own certainties--not for examining, just for stating to yourself. If you have any experience of cooking by using a recipe from a cookery book, you will know that sometimes you have to do some preparation and then lay it on one side until later. That is what we will do with our own examples of certainties.

In Jonah 4 and Acts 10:9-35, we have two very powerful stories. One of the positive aspects of the range of critical tools we now have for engaging with the Bible is that not all of them are knives for dissecting the text. We can approach stories holistically as stories and ask, "What is going on here?" At first sight, it may seem absolutely clear what these stories are about. However, there is something else equally important that we can discover from them.

Jonah is such a good story that we have put it into attractive picture books and presumed it is just for children. This can lead adults to think that this story is not serious enough for them. If we take this attitude to Jonah, it is a major loss to us.

To remind ourselves of the outline of the story: Jonah was called to preach judgment against the wicked people of Nineveh. He responded by fleeing as far from the Lord as possible. The ship in which he had taken passage was overtaken by a storm, so sailors threw Jonah overboard to placate his god. Jonah was saved by a big fish sent by the Lord. Jonah prayed for deliverance and the fish coughed him up on shore. Jonah went to Nineveh, preached, and the people repented. God also repented and did not destroy them. Jonah became angry and frustrated. He had presumed that his preaching was not to produce repentance but to give the Lord a good excuse to destroy them when they rejected the message. Then the Lord went and forgave them--unacceptable to Jonah. He received an object lesson from the fate of the plant under which he was sheltering.

God's mind is changed

The NRSV describes God as having a change of mind about destroying the people of Nineveh because they "turned from their evil ways" (Jonah 3:10). Another place where God is characterized as having a change of mind is after the making of the golden calf in the exodus story (Ex. 32:14). The people did not suffer a disaster, as God was minded, because Moses reminded God whose people they were. This underlines the significance of God's acceptance of the people of Nineveh.

The second story is so significant that Luke includes it twice--once "as it happens" in Joppa (Acts 10:9-16) and again as Peter recounted it in Jerusalem (Acts 11:4-10). Peter may not have travelled as far as Paul, but he was active in his own mission to the Jewish believers. Peter was visiting Joppa when he had a vision of being told to kill and eat the various "unclean" animals lowered in front of him. On resisting, he was told, "What God has made clean, you must not call profane" (Acts 10:15). Meanwhile, a God-fearing Roman centurion in Caesarea had had a vision suggesting he send for Peter. The emissaries arrived as Peter was puzzling over the meaning of the vision. Peter went to Cornelius and recognized that "God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him" Acts 10:34-35). This was confirmed by reception of the Holy Spirit by Peter's hearers and their baptism. Peter had to face the criticism of those in Jerusalem who believed that it was necessary for all believers in Jesus first to enter the Jewish faith and keep within its ways. In retelling the story, all were convinced: "Then God has given even to the gentiles the repentance that leads to life" (Acts 11:18).

All these years on, it is clear what these stories mean. After all, Jonah and Peter each grudgingly or joyfully accepted the universality of God's love and of the potential for new life for anyone. We ourselves are inheritors of this understanding because by both Jonah's and Peter's original understanding we would have been unacceptable to God, whatever we might believe or do.

We should note, though, that this message has taken a long while to sink in. William Carey, the pioneer of the modern missionary movement in the late 18th century, received advice to the effect, "Sit down, young man. If the Lord wants to convert the heathen, He will do it without your help." The implication being that the speaker felt that the Lord was not particularly in favour of the "heathen". It is the stuff of many a sermon and Bible study to reflect on who we still exclude from the embrace of God because of who or what they are. This can be a salutatory exercise, but it is not the purpose of this Bible study.

There is another theme running through both of these stories that relates directly to the forthcoming WCC assembly. It is or should be a very disturbing theme for us.

We can read from the story that Jonah had his certainties:

--It was the "Lord's job to punish/destroy the wicked.

--The Lord was not for foreigners (Nineveh was therefore in double trouble).

Jonah also knew some other things that we will not deal with here: to ignore a call to serve was to invite the anger of the Lord; one could not hide or escape from God; rather perversely, the Lord would save the Lord's own people even when they got in a mess of their own making.

From Acts we can see Peter's certainties:

--Faith in Christ was within Judaism.

--Therefore the dietary requirements applied.

--And being Jewish or entering the Jewish faith was the primary requirement.

Peter represented a significant strand in early Christianity, though he would not have recognized that term. We can read in Paul's letters about some of the tensions between "Jewish" and "gentile" believers.

In both cases these certainties were not individual prejudices. They were founded on scripture and Tradition--I use these terms deliberately. They were the received wisdom, the status quo. They were assured certainties. As has been said, we have lived and benefited from a radically different interpretation for a long time. This means that we are able to look back at the scripture and Tradition from which they drew their certainties and see evidence for our different understanding of the ways of the Lord.

God turns their certainties upside down--transforms them, if you like. It really doesn't seem all that radical to us because we know the outcome all too well. To get a measure of the radical nature of the transformation, think about your certainties you identified at the start. What would it take, and how would you feel, about those being turned upside down or inside out?

Suppose it was revealed to me, in some way that I believed to be of God, that my certainty was in fact totally wrong. That it was not the duty of the gathered community of believers to discern the mind of Christ in their understanding and practice of faith, but they should passively and unquestioningly accept the instructions of a denominational chief executive. It would go against all that I believe as a Baptist as well as my life-long work as an educator. It would be traumatic and confusing beyond words. I feel uncomfortable just writing about it hypothetically.

Mourning our certainties

When I used this exercise for the original version of this Bible study in the Ecumenical Centre, some colleagues came to me afterwards to express their dismay at having to contemplate their certainties being transformed. It made me feel rather guilty, but it is the only way I can think of to even begin to experience the enormity of the experience of Jonah and Peter.

These stories are disturbing because it may be that God wants to turn some of our certainties upside down and inside out. Before we protest that now we have the witness of both the Jewish scriptures and the New Testament, especially that of Jesus, we should recognize how both Jonah and Peter failed to see what we now see. Certainties, even those originating in some truth, have a nasty habit of becoming self-validating. Our certainties often predetermine how we read scripture so that it is virtually impossible for us to recognize that we might not have seen the whole picture. Faith in Christ implies an openness to God. Being certain is to be closed.

We have done a very dangerous thing in choosing as the theme for the assembly "God, in your grace, transform the world". We are actually calling on God, in God's grace, to transform the world--the oikoumene, all things. This includes us and all that we hold to be self-evident. There is an apt expression--"be careful what you pray for, you might just get it". Jonah and Peter did not volunteer for transformation--they were unwilling if not resistant participants. Yet their very reasonable and trustworthy certainties, at least to them, were transformed. How much more might God transform those who ask for it!

Assuming that we have not chosen the assembly theme simply because it sounds commendable, could we stand it if some of the things about which we are certain are transformed? We have to face this question because it is so easy for people to caricature the WCC as being rather naively against evil and in favour of good. We can condemn the oppressor and the oppressive system. We can speak out against all that prevents fullness of life for all humanity. We can question those who seek to use religion to promote hostility and violence. How we long to see all those things transformed as if we were detached observers rather than complicit participants! Yet, to return to the opening paragraph, try for the sake of the environment to restrict me in the use of my car (let alone transform me into a pedestrian and user of public transport) and I will come up with many self-justifying reasons. Transformation cannot be just for others.

Questions remain

These passages when taken together with the assembly theme leave us with two questions worth considering:

1. Jonah and Peter could have had a different understanding of God and God's relationship with people. The signs were there if only they had been able to read them. How can we engage with scripture, traditions, experience and with one another in an open way which will test and challenge our certainties?

2. Do we really expect God to answer our prayer for transformation? What is there about ourselves, our church and the ecumenical movement that we would most like to see transformed? What would we want God to leave as it is? What does the answer to the latter question tell us about ourselves?

There is one difference between Jonah and Peter which is important here. That is the reaction to their certainties being turned upside down and inside out. Jonah sat in an angry sulk, muttering to the effect, "I just knew you would go and do something like that." Peter seemed to respond with joyful insight and to be bold enough to take his new vision to those he knew would have to be convinced.

Given the assembly theme, perhaps the real question is not whether God will transform us but how we will take it when God does.

Simon Oxley is responsible for work on evaluation and ecumenical formation in the WCC.