A Whale of a Story (Homiletics Review - #6 in a series)

 

Our annual fight was forthcoming.  I kept thinking about how I would address him this time.  (He is now deceased so he can't be mad at me for telling the story, now that he knows The Real Truth.)  But every year when we would have this clashing of horns, he never, ever listened to me.  I tried to tell him what he needed to know but I couldn't change his mind.  The technical term for it is "invincible ignorance," an ignorance which cannot be educated.

I preface the tale by making the point that when it comes to homilies, you just can't beat a GOOD story.  People of all ages love a good story.  Even my father, who prefers hockey and baseball and political TV, will watch a good Hallmark movie with me.  I was so surprised when I was home visiting and he stayed up late with me to watch the story that I thanked him.  In his smarty-pants way he responded, "I didn't know there were so many Inns to be saved."  So funny.  But it is true, Hallmark does beat a path to the saving of Inns, vineyards, bakeries, and the like.

When we are teaching our children to read and to learn about life, we read them stories.  No one ever prefaces a reading of Aesop's Fables by stating that they are not true.  In the name "Fable" we come to understand that they were not historical fact, because animals were personified (anthropomorphized, if you will) to make a lesson clear and non- threatening to people.  When we are engrossed in a story, we let our guard down and truly listen.  

Story telling, as I have stated elsewhere before, is an art.  You may be born with it.  You may be surrounded by Master Story tellers.  Or, like me, perhaps a little of both.  Dr. James Dobson, the famous Educational Psychologist said that women use 30,000 words a day, and men only use like 15,000.  This explains why when a woman comes home from work, they can recount the entire day in details of color, shape, size, quantity and impact on global economics.  And when a man comes home, the day can be summed up as:  "fine."  And we all know why you never want to hear a woman say that things are "fine."  But I digress.

So, to the point.  Once a year in the liturgical calendar of readings, the story of Jonah being swallowed by the whale comes up in the lectionary.  The pastor I used to work for absolutely BRISTLED every time that reading came up.  He would remark to me, "It never happened."  "It's just a story."  I tried to approach this disturbing reaction by saying, "there's no such thing as JUST a story, it has a purpose."  But that was absolutely lost on him, as was evidenced by the content of his homily.  He was a product of the 1970's seminaries and the influence of destructive in-house education.  Well, we have another name for it ...

"Demythologizing" was a term coined around the works of Rudolf Bultmann, a German theologian.  He was making the point that the stories of the Bible might not be literally true but still have some value.  And I, as an educated theologian who is more pastorally engaged, want to insist that the very MINUTE you suggest out loud  to Joe or Sue in the bench on Sunday morning that the story is "not true" they consequently think there is NO Value in it.  Yet nothing could be farther from the truth.  

Remember when the demythologizers got ahold of the Adam & Eve story in Genesis?  They suggested that it was a Hebrew "myth" to explain the origins of creation, the fall of humanity, original sin, and the promise of a savior.  But the minute people hear the word "myth" they shift the entire thing to:  UNTRUE.  People are notoriously efficient at throwing the proverbial baby out with the bathwater.  (Now did you stop to think that maybe there is no meaning to that phrase because we don't really throw babies out with bathwater?  No.  You did not, because I did not initially draw your attention to it.  I let the power of the IMAGE itself tell you what was most important.  You naturally sorted the rest out.  I know you are not in my backyard checking my lawn for a kid.)

So where did demythologizing lead us?  Follow the train that Corrupted 1970's Theology took us on (my corrective comments in parentheses):

    >Adam & Eve are a myth, therefore all stories of origin are of equal value.  (Happily, the Great Pope John Paul II, preached a lot about the reality of Adam and Eve, the first man, the first woman and their relationship to God and each other.)

    >Moses didn't really see a burning bush, it was just a symbol to express his experience with God (and so he took his shoes off ... for WHAT REASON?)

    >The Red Sea didn't really "part" because Moses had studied the receding pattern of tides in that area beforehand ... (and he walked HOW MANY Israelites through "dry-shod" just in time before it receded back on the Egyptian chariots?)

    >Jesus didn't really change water into wine at Cana, they saved the best for last.  (Is the head waiter's comment in John's Gospel not rhetorical..." Hmmm)

    >Jesus didn't really consecrate bread and wine, trans-substantiate it.  It's "just a symbol" (and then why didn't He chase after the people who left Him saying, "this teaching is too much for us!"  Could He afford to lose a major portion of His following in the early days?  Just sayin'.)

Or my absolute favorite, told to me from a Catholic school teacher whose faith seemed on-the-rocks:

    >Jesus didn't really raise from the dead because He wasn't really dead.  They used herbs to revive Him.  (anyone who has read the description of death by crucifixion as published in the Journal of American Medical Association, JAMA, realizes how ludicrous that theory is.)

    >Jesus didn't really rise from the dead; He just "rose" in the hearts and minds of His followers.  (St. Paul said that if Christ isn't raised from the dead, truly, our faith is in vain and we are of all men to be the most pitied.  Amen.)

So you see how the technique of "demythologizing," not just takes the story out of the story, it removes the whole meaning and point of the story.  That being said, we could ask, "Did all things in the Bible happen literally as they are written?"  And in response I will ask:  "Are there not different types of truth, different purposes for telling stories?"  So a Story could be a vehicle to get a point across.  Whether or not it actually happened the way it is told is kind of beside the point.  HOWEVER, before we go assigning "myth" status willy-nilly all over the Scriptures, we need to ask what the POINT of the story is... and also perhaps if there are other historical sources that may indicate the story isn't as far-fetched as we think it is.  I have heard that there were cave drawings found in South America that are pictographs of a story that looks remarkably like ... Noah's Ark.  Hmmm....

What WAS the point of the Jonah story anyways?  In its historical context, it certainly could be making the point that when we run from God's plan for our lives because "we don't wanna do it..." He has the power to orchestrate a re-direction to get things back on track with His Plan.  It could also be, from a human perspective, a story about a guy who got a Second Chance to do ministry when he was running away from it.  It could be about how fear and lack of faith cripple our decision-making process.  It could even be about the strange and humorous ways that repentance is brought about.  

My friend Barb-the-Catholic-Science Teacher always used to say to me, "Bik, he didn't get swallowed by a whale because whales don't have teeth, they have baleen."  And I would say to her, "Not the point.  When I tell a 'whale of a story' it doesn't necessarily involve real whales.  And how are we to know it wasn't some other form of sea creature and the Bible writer used the term "whale" generically?

Perhaps the most important interpretation of this Old Testament story for the Christian people is it's Christological significance.  Jesus, before His death, said, "Father, if it is possible, take this cup from Me.  But not as I will, let Your will be done."  He was saying the opposite of Jonah.  When Jonah was asked to preach to the dirty rotten scoundrels in Nineveh he said, "Later gator," and hopped a ship going the opposite direction. When the crew of Jonah's boat realized he was the reason the voyage was so rough and terrible, they threw him over board.  (insert me brushing my hands together here.  "so done with you, mister.")  When Jesus' disciples were on the boat with Him and the weather got choppy, they cried out to Him in terror, but they didn't throw Him overboard.  Later, in the Garden of Olives where He was betrayed, one of His own followers turned Him over to the arresting soldiers.  

But let me ask you, how many DAYS was Jonah "in the belly of the whale?"  And the next thing you know, the whale lets him out onto the sandy beach of Nineveh where he begins preaching.  His hearers, sinners though they were, received his message and turned their lives around.  It never talked about his success as a preacher among his own people, but of the marvelous success he had reaching the hearts and minds of the heathens.  So.  Think about this part of the story in relation to Jesus' resurrection.  After three days in a cave, He comes forth by the power of God and visits His disciples who were cowering in fear in an upper room.  His presence and the message of God's redemption of the human condition, power over sin and death, fills them to the point that they become the missionary Church to the known world.  It is a message that started in a little town in Nazareth and by passing through death and overcoming it, became the message that changed everyone who received it.  And that is the foreshadowing that is present in the Jonah story... Like so many of the key events in the history of Israel, it points prophetically to the work of Christ.  To use the Greek word, it functions as a protoevangelion, fore-runner of the gospel.  

But, no.  Some homilists get all bogged down in saying the story isn't historically true and miss the opportunity to bring the truth OUT of the story.  

The last time we had our argument I was prepared.  He said, as he did so many times before to me and anyone who would listen, "You know the Jonah story isn't true."  I looked at him and responded:  "How do you know?  You are Old, but you aren't old enough to have been there."  And that is where we left it.

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The Babushka Brigade

 

I am sure that SOMEONE in Moscow said the F-word ... and a whole bunch of other unmentionables ... yesterday when Russia blew up one of its own cities.  However frustrating that may be to them, and humiliating, it does not take a military 5-star general or a political science major to tell you why that actually happened ... I can tell you.  But it is Top Secret, super-classified information and you need to just let it whirl around in your head against all your reasons for disbelieving it.  

They, the Russian military, have been the victims of the behind-the-scenes work of the Babushka Brigade. "Who are these hidden warriors?"  you ask me.  I will tell you:  they are Ukranian and Polish grandmothers and aunties.  WHAT?!?  Yes.  They meet in fields, in barns, perhaps even in bombed-out villages.  They are doing something that they have done for over 100 years.  They are praying the rosary.

At the very beginning of this powerful prayer is the intention that includes these lines:

"Queen of the Holy Rosary you have deigned to come to Fatima (Portugal, May 13, 1917) to reveal to the three shepherd children the treasures of grace hidden in the rosary. Inspire our hearts with a sincere love of this devotion, in order that by meditating on the Mysteries of our Redemption which are recalled in it, we may be enriched with its fruits, obtain peace for the world, the conversion of sinners and of Russia and the favors we ask of you in this rosary."  

Let it not go unsaid that Russian communism has always been a burr under the saddle for people of faith.  They see the Church and its members as a threat, so they exterminate all forms of devotion if they are able.   In the 1930's they turned churches into museums of atheism.  Their disdain for religion and its members has been in no way hidden.  Although they forget one key element:  GOD Himself cannot be cancelled.  And GOD is on the side of Peace.  The GOD that we pray to for peace and for conversion will not be mocked.  

Hebrew Scriptures state:  "Let GOD arise and let His enemies be scattered.  Let  those who hate Him flee before Him.  As smoke is driven, so drive them away.  As wax melts before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of GOD."  (Psalm 68)

This GOD abides no nonsense from heathens.  And while there may be good little Russian orthodox grandmothers, and some pious souls left in that country, the leadership is antagonistic to people of faith.  They even try to keep the Russian orthodox church on a politically very short leash.  There are saints there, hidden behind the scenes, and they are suffering.  But what Russia is doing to the Ukraine is abominable.  If you think they will stop at the Ukraine, understand that Poland is next, and  then every other country they can grab to centralize power.  It has been that way for my entire lifetime, and many decades prior.  

Catholics have been taught to pray, since our childhood, for peace.  We have been taught to work for peace.  But sometimes in order to maintain peace there must be a bigger presence.  And that presence may be military.  Our U.S. liberal media wants to discuss whether or not it is "appropriate" for President Zelensky to show up to high-powered meetings of diplomats and world leaders in his fatigues or sweat pants.  The fact that he is making, not a fashion statement, but a political statement that he is allied with his troops in fatigues completely escapes them.  He stands before the world stage while he is in the middle of a war, not to show off a three-piece suit, but to beg for assistance in holding back the FALL OF ALL OF EUROPE.  But, no, our idiots want to make this about what he is wearing.  We in the U.S. are not in a position to comment on "political style" when we have a political leader who craps his pants in the presence of the Pope and then comes out of a meeting (held in a language he himself does NOT speak) and declares:  "The Pope says I am a Catholic in Good Standing."  BULL SHIT, HE DID.  

So I will tell you again, it is only the prayers of the babci's (pronounced bob-cheese) that have stopped wars.  Men themselves cannot seem to figure out how to do it.  And brilliant strategists, as the Russians fancy themselves, are scratching their  heads trying to figure out how the heck they could have accidentally bombed one of their own cities.  I will tell you, it is the power of GOD throwing them into confusion.  I was remembering this as I attended church on Easter Vigil two weeks ago.  One of the psalm responses is:  "I will sing unto the Lord for He has triumphed gloriously, the horse and rider thrown into the sea!" (Exodus 15:1-2)  This psalm hearkens back to the days when the holy servant of God, Moses, led the people out of Egypt and through the Red Sea.  Just as the last Israelite stepped onto the opposite shore of the sea where they had went through "dry-shod,"  the Egyptians seemed to think they could just blast into that sea and fetch their slaves back.  Nope.  The winds shifted, and the waters turned, and chariots bogged down in mud.  Horses staggered.  Men screamed.  No one knew what was happening.  It was GOD setting His people free. Check your history books.  

The GOD of Righteousness and Peace will declare an end to this nightmare in Ukraine.  If the world will not help them, He will.  Pray for peace.  Support the humanitarian aid to refugees.  And have faith that what man cannot seem to do, is easy for God.  

"Then panic struck the whole army - those in the camp and in the field and those in the outposts and raiding parties - and the ground shook.  It was a panic sent by God."  (1 Samuel 14:15)

Until then, Let us pray ... 

"Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our Life, our Sweetness and our Hope.  To you do we cry, poor banished children of Eve.  To you do we send up our sighs and weeping in this Valley of Tears.  Turn then, oh most gracious advocate, your eyes of mercy towards us and after our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of your womb, Jesus.  Oh clement, oh loving, oh sweet virgin Mary, pray for us oh Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ." 

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Lenten Homilies from the mouths of Babes

 

"Donkeys-for-Jesus."  That's what I would have entitled the pastor's homily.  AND it was good, it was brief, and I remembered it.  He didn't give it that title, I did (of course).  It was Palm Sunday, when Christians celebrate the humble entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey.  As the story goes, He told His disciples there would be a young donkey  tied up at a certain gate and to bring it to Him.  If anyone asked where they were taking it (ie:  Hey, why are you guys stealing my donkey?!) tell them, "The Master has need of it."  And so the story goes.  The point of Father's homily was that we all should be available for God to use, no matter how humble we feel our gifts are.  His point was well made... except for me, the Real Homily was happening in the row behind me.

A middle-aged dad sat in church with his young adult son who has special needs.  The young man was heartily singing along to the church songs and participating in the prayers.  And then we came to the reading of the Passion of Christ.  This is arguably the single longest reading in our entire liturgical year.  The priest was kind enough to invite the congregation to sit for the reading instead of stand, as we typically do.  (Priests of a different era would want us to tough-it-out and stand for the 20-30 minutes of that reading, which is very hard on the elderly, parents with children, and middle aged people, and, well, pretty much everyone.)  This particular reading is divided into roles:  the Narrator, who reads much of the story, the priest celebrant who reads the parts of Jesus, another reader who reads the other miscellaneous pieces, and the Congregation that gets to read parts assigned to "The Crowd."

I have always not enjoyed the Congregation's part because it involves statements like:  "Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!" and the like.  But it is history, and this is how it happened.  We are reading something that was a mob scene.  Except every year I keep thinking that we have to be kind of psychologically disengaged to read this and not be emotionally moved by it.  It is, in a word, disturbing.

So we read through pretty much 80% of the text and I became aware that the young man behind me had begun openly weeping.  Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw his father put an arm around him, and attempt to comfort him.  But what could he say, really, "This is just a story..." - no - because it is NOT just a story, it really happened.  He said, "the story is not over.  It will be okay in three days."  And that in effect is the essence of the Christian message:  when the State and Religious leaders colluded to put an end to this Jesus, they did not have the last word ... He did.  And it is primarily this thing, this resurrection event of three days later, that sets Jesus up and apart from every other religious figure on the stage of life.  

It is not true that Jesus was just a prophet.  He did not claim to be a prophet.  He said He was the Son of God.  He was not just a nice guy.  Nice guys, last time I checked, were not able to heal the sick, cure the lame, make the blind see, and say:  "Lazarus, come forth from the tomb!" and have Lazarus raise from the dead.  Nice guys just can't do that.  So you, in effect, come down to one last option:  He was a liar.  And yet when all the events, teachings, sayings - the witness of His Life - are stacked up, He couldn't have been labeled a liar... and that leads you to you-know-where.  Logic has a way of taking us to the path heretofore unthinkable.  And there you have it staring you in the face.  You get to make the choice to respond to the data ... or walk away because it may cost you too much... a job, a friend, a business opportunity, etc.  

So while I was pondering all of the events leading up to the death of Christ, and my younger brother in the faith was weeping behind me in church, and his father was unsuccessful in putting a lid on it, I was kind of glad.  I was glad at least one person in church gave Christ the gift-of-tears and grieving that was His due for what He went through.  The pastor wrapped up his "Donkeys for Jesus" homily, and I felt bad that he couldn't hear the homily behind me because, by golly, that would preach!

And I thought that was it for the deep moment of the year.  Then there was yesterday.  

I went to Good Friday service at 3:00 p.m. at a little parish in the country that I had not attended before.  The parking lot was packed.  The church was packed.  People of all ages were there.  Two young women in their 30's were sitting in the back row great-with-child and looking kind of like they could make a bee-line to the door to go to the hospital at any moment.  The music was subtle and beautiful - a young man cantoring, a woman singing with him, a keyboard player, and a violinist.  

There is a part in the Good Friday service where we perform the Veneration of the Holy Cross.  A life-sized cross is processed into church with due ceremony and positioned at the front of the church.  Then the people get up, row by row, and file to the front.  Some bend forward and kiss the wood of the cross.  Others kneel momentarily and touch the wood of the cross.  Whatever way you choose to honor the moment is what you do.  The music is being sung - two or three songs, back-to-back.  And in the row behind me a grandmother ushers a little guy, probably about four years old, into the center aisle.  She said to him, "okay, wait.  Okay now get into line behind this lady (me)."  And that little guy began to sing:

    "Take up your cross.  Take up your cross.  Take up your cross and follow Me."

He had a voice sweeter than a choir of angels.  And if I wasn't afraid of tripping over my own two feet, I would have just closed my eyes and soaked it in as I walked down the aisle.  The little voice kept piping up, "Take up your cross.  Take up your cross.  Take up your cross and follow Me."  It was the loveliest thing I've heard in a whole bunch of years worth of ugly stuff I have to listen to every single day.  It put every piece of suffering I've gone through in perspective:

Losing a job.  Losing a friend.  Losing my sense of security.  Losing money.  So much loss, so much suffering in the past few years... and all of it horrible at the time.  And then on Good Friday, a powerful reminder from the Voice of Sweetness:  "Take up your cross.   Take up your cross.  Take up your cross and follow Me."  And when I went through all of those losses, I knew that I was not alone.  I had beautiful friends and family who stood with me, who consoled me, who encouraged me, who were Christ for me.  It was the thing that kept me going when all looked so bleak.  

So if you are wondering why Christians call it "Good Friday," that's pretty much it in a nutshell:  that Christ entered into the human condition, suffered and died so that we could never shout back at Him, "You don't KNOW my pain!  You don't KNOW how I feel!"  Yes.  He did.  He took up His cross and followed ... you.

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