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I'd like to produce a powerpoint for a sermon that I am delivering tomorrow morning at a baptist church in Melbourne's eastern suburbs I. Introduction: The Mirror of Discipleship Good morning, everyone. It is February in Melbourne. We are in that long, hot stretch of the year where life settles into a rhythm. The tennis is nearly over, the kids are finally back in a routine at school, and the "Great Australian Dream" of a quiet, controlled, comfortable suburban life is back in full swing. February is often when we settle back into our “grooves.” But grooves can very easily become ruts. And ruts, if they go deep enough, can become graves. I said at a couple of points last year that I thought it was time for us to be thinking more intentionally about discipleship as a community. What I meant by that, is asking “what does it mean for us to live as followers of Jesus here, and now?” How do we carry the label Christian in a way that is life and light bringing? We often talk about discipleship as a "Yes" to God—a decision to follow Jesus. And that is where it starts. But as we grow, discipleship requires something more: it requires a long, honest look in the mirror even as we, in Eugene Peterson’s words, cultivate a long obedience in the same direction. Discipleship is the process of letting God show us the parts of our lives that haven't caught up to that "Yes" yet. It’s about the gap between our confession and our conduct. Jonah lives that difference in stark terms and that is why we are spending the next few weeks in the book of Jonah. You see, Jonah is not just a Sunday School classic about a big fish. According to scholars like Kevin Youngblood, Jonah is a "didactic narrative"—a story designed specifically to teach by holding up a mirror to the reader. It is a biting, sometimes funny, and deeply uncomfortable look at a "man of God" who says he fears the Lord but lives like he doesn't. If we want to grow as disciples this year, we have to be willing to look into the mirror of Jonah and ask: Where am I saying "Yes" with my mouth, but "No" with my life? II. Challenging the Categories (Authorship & Irony) Before we dive into Jonah’s flight, we need to understand what kind of book we are reading. Jonah is unique among the prophets. In most prophetic books—like Isaiah or Jeremiah—we get pages and pages of God’s words and only a few details about the prophet’s life. In Jonah, it’s the opposite. We only get five words of prophecy in the whole book, but we get a detailed, almost satirical account of the prophet’s behaviour. "The book was likely written for people trying to figure out their identity after national trauma. They were asking, 'Who are we? And more importantly, who is God allowed to love?'" The book is written as a parody of sorts. It challenges the category of the "Prophet" (who turns out to be a rebel) and the "Pagan" (who turns out to be a seeker). It’s designed to catch religious people off guard. III. The Geography of the Fade (vv. 1–3) The word of the Lord comes to Jonah: "Arise (Kum), go to Nineveh." Nineveh was the messy place. It was the capital of the Assyrian Empire—a superpower known for its calculated cruelty. To Jonah, Nineveh represented everything wrong with the world. They were the terrorists of the ancient world. God says "Arise." And the text says Jonah "rose"—but in the opposite direction. He decides to run for Tarshish. Scholar Phyllis Trible points out a fascinating literary pattern here. Every move Jonah makes is defined by the Hebrew word yārad—to go down. • Jonah goes down to Joppa (the coast). • He goes down into the ship. • Later, he goes down into the hold of the ship to sleep. • Finally, he will go down into the depths of the sea. Jonah’s life becomes a geographical downward spiral that demonstrates his spiritual descent. And here is the first point for us this morning: You don't usually run from God by shouting "No!" You run from God by quietly slipping "down." Most of us in this room don’t tend to stamp our feet or wave our fists when God asks us to do something we don’t want to do. Our "No" to God is much quieter. It is found in a form of Benign Tarshish. IV. The Benign Tarshish (The Quiet No) For most of us, Tarshish isn't a city in Spain. It is the "white noise" of suburban life. Think about how you say "No" to God’s nudges. God nudges you to reach out to that person you need to reconcile with—the family member who hurt you, the neighbour you've been avoiding, the colleague who needs to hear about Jesus. You feel the "Arise" in your spirit. But instead of saying "No," you just... turn on the TV. You head "down" into the blue light of the scroll. You pay the "fare" of your attention to a streaming service or a social media feed. Tarshish is the retail therapy at Westfield—buying things we don't need to soothe a restlessness we don't want to name. It's the busyness of our calendars—we fill our lives with sports, renovations, podcasts, until life becomes a noise-cancelling environment. Walter Brueggemann calls this the "Royal Consciousness." It’s the mindset of the comfortable. It’s the ability to maintain our own "peace" by ignoring the cries of the world. Jonah went "down into the innermost part of the ship" to sleep. He wasn't just tired; he was insulated. He was technically present, but he had checked out. Isn't that the most common "No" in our church? We aren't absent; we’re just "checked out." We’re in the hold. We’re staring at our phones while the "Word of the Lord" is calling us to arise and love the people we’d rather ignore. And if this feels confronting already, let me say this clearly: I’m not preaching about Jonah from a distance. I recognise this downward pull in myself. I know how easy it is to mistake rest for escape, comfort for faithfulness. This story isn’t about those people - it’s about people like us. V. The Storm and the Wake-Up Call (vv. 4–10) While Jonah is in his benign sleep, God sends a "great wind." And here is the stinging irony: The sailors—the ones who don't know Yahweh—are the ones who are awake. They are praying. They are "hurling" cargo. They are doing the hard work of caring for the community while the "man of God" is the only one not contributing. The captain finds Jonah and uses God’s own word: "Arise! (Kum) Call on your God!" This is what CS Lewis called God’s "severe mercy." Sometimes, God has to rattle our suburban flyscreens with a storm to wake us up. Think of that specific Melbourne heat in February. The north wind that feels like a hairdryer in your face. And then the cool change hits—the flyscreens rattle, the temperature drops 20 degrees. It’s violent, it’s disruptive, but it’s the only thing that brings life back to the garden. That storm in your life? It might be God’s "cool change" meant to wake you up before you spiral too far down. VI. The Choice: The Abyss or the Mission (vv. 11–17) The sailors ask Jonah what they should do. Jonah says: "Pick me up and hurl me into the sea." Now, we often read this as if Jonah is being like Jesus—sacrificing himself. But scholars like Brueggemann suggest Jonah isn't being noble here—he's being petulant. He's literally saying, 'I would rather die than obey.' He chooses the abyss over the mission. But God is the God of the Scandalous Mercy. He co-opts Jonah’s rebellion. He uses the storm to save the sailors. And then, He "appoints a great fish." This isn't a monster; it's a respite. It’s the place where the phone dies, the noise stops, and the distractions are stripped away. VII. The Greater Jonah There is a beautiful and haunting irony here. Jonah went down into the sea to escape God’s mission of mercy. But centuries later, another Prophet would come. Jesus said that the only sign this generation would get is the "Sign of Jonah." But notice the difference: Jonah was thrown into the sea because of his own sin; Jesus was thrown into the abyss because of ours. Jonah went down into the depths because he hated his enemies; Jesus went down into the depths of death because He loved His enemies—including you and me. If you want the power to stop your "Downward Spiral," you don't find it by trying harder. You find it by looking at the One who took the ultimate "Downward Spiral" on your behalf. When you see how far God was willing to go down to find you, Nineveh doesn't seem so scary anymore. VIII. Conclusion: Arise As we head into this week, look in the mirror. Ask yourself: Where is my Tarshish? What benign, everyday thing am I using to buffer myself against God’s voice? Discipleship starts with a "Yes," but it grows when we stop the "Downward Spiral" of our Quiet Nos. This week, here's what I'm inviting you to do: Set a timer and sit in silence for 5 minutes. Notice what you feel when the noise stops. Notice who comes to mind. That restlessness you feel? That's the wake-up call. The book of Jonah challenges our categories. It tells us that the "Prophet" can be the runner, and the "Pagan" can be the seeker. Jonah tells us God’s love stretches further than we are comfortable with. Don't go back down into the hold. Don't pay the fare for another night of numbness. The storm is raging, the world is crying out, and the God of Mercy is calling. Arise. Amen.