Yes, I do believe

Every year, there is a question that sends a shiver down the spines of parents, teachers, priests, and any grown-up who encounters it: ‘is Santa real?’. This simple question seems fraught with danger. Fears of being complicit in the commercialism that has seeped into the Nativity of Christ, of emphasizing a myth over the Word incarnate, of advocating a lie in the midst of a season dedicated to the One who is the source of all truth – all of this, and more, weighs on the adult to whom an innocent child looks up and presents this simple inquiry.

It is by strange coincidence – I daresay providentially so – that the most famous answer to this question comes from Church – not Holy Mother Church, but a man named Francis Pharcellus Church. It is he who is the author of the now famous response published in the New York Sun in 1897, titled simply ‘Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus’ (I’ve included it in its entirety below). In five brief paragraphs, he answers this question so well that his response has become perhaps the most famous editorial of all time, and deservedly so.

I don’t know if Francis Church was inspired by the Church Herself, but he echoes – consciously or not – the language of the likes of Tolkien in his On Fairy-Stories, Lewis in his dedication to to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and even Thomas Aquinas, who famously reminds us that “Faith has to do with things that are not seen, and hope with things that are not in hand”, reminiscent of the similar words found in the Letter to the Hebrews.

We’re all assuming this is Mrs. Claus, right? (image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

If the title didn’t give it away, you’ve probably guessed by now how I answer this question – that I, too, do believe in Santa Claus. Oh, my image of him is not the one of popular culture, though the history of how Saint Nicholas came to be associated with a sleigh, reindeer, and chimneys is fascinating all in itself. But that relatively modern (1823) conceit has its roots in an actual living, breathing person – whose story is far richer and more Christ-based than secular society might care to admit.

And so, finally (!), we come to the crux of the matter: Santa Claus is in fact Saint Nicholas (from the Dutch feast of Sinterklass or Sint-Nicolaas, celebrating his name day). In the Roman Catholic tradition, Saint Nicholas has his own liturgical feast day on December 6 (or on December 19 by those who follow the Julian calendar, such as various Orthodox Churches), though the season of Advent trumps him liturgically. Nonetheless, Christians worldwide celebrate his memory with small gifts – traditionally putting out shoes the night before and filling them with tangerines or oranges overnight.

Saint Nicholas, by Jaroslav Čermák
Saint Nicholas, by Jaroslav Čermák (image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

Why? I’m glad you asked! We start with with the basics: Saint Nicholas was the Bishop of Myra in the fourth century. He famously attended the Council of Nicaea – there is a story about him punching Arius, which though satisfying, was neither encouraged nor condoned. In fact, he was stripped the signs of his office and thrown into jail for the offense. It seems that divine intervention may have played a part in convincing Constantine and his brother bishops to restore him.

But the story of Saint Nicholas that most captures his character centers not around his ardent defense of the faith and its doctrine & dogma, but the charity which it inspired. The most famous story involves saving three children from a terrible fate. There are several versions of the story, but essentially a father of three girls was intending to sell them into prostitution, seeing no alternative that would save them from the poverty that afflicted the family. Saint Nicholas, apparently hearing about this, discreetly gave from his own wealth. Legend has it that he tossed in bags of gold through an open window, with them landing in the shoes that were placed to dry overnight in front of the fire.

From that simple act, not only were girls saved from a life of physical and spiritual impoverishment, but was borne a tradition of gift-giving that continues to this day. This also explains those tangerines or oranges on his feast day, representing the gold balls or coins that he gave away so generously.

I could go on and on (and so I have already!), but the point is this: we Christians have no reason to be afraid to affirm Santa Claus. If you’re struggling to find ways to celebrate the very real man behind it all, I would commend you to the wonderful St. Nicholas Center website. They’ve got a whole section on how to celebrate Saint Nicholas and the Christ to Whom he was devoted. Santa Claus is not a threat to Jesus or faith in Him – far from it! Armed with the truth of who he is, we can celebrate all the more richly the season of the Word incarnate and be inspired to to greater love of God and neighbor.

(also, if you’re looking for a bit of whimsy and fun, NORAD’s Santa Tracker is a delightful tradition, started entirely by happy accident. They have a dedicated website and apps for you & the children in your life to follow Santa Claus. It’s lovely.)

Is There a Santa Claus?

We take pleasure in answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of THE SUN:

“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
“Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
“Papa says ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
“Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
“Virginia O’Hanlon.
“115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.”

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, VIRGINIA, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beautify and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there was no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank GOD! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, VIRGINIA, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

“Is There a Santa Claus?” September 21, 1897. The Sun (New York, NY), Image 6. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers.

O Emmanuel (December 23)

image provided by the USCCB

Today we come to the end of the O Antiphons – perhaps the one that most people know, thanks to the Advent hymn inspired by it: “O Emmanuel, our King and Giver of Law: come to save us, Lord our God!”

The name ‘Emmanuel’ – meaning ‘with us is God’ – comes from the book of the prophet Isaiah. After Ahaz refuses the invitation of the Lord to ask for a sign to reassure him that God will deliver on His promise, the Isaiah makes this proclamation:

Then he said: Listen, house of David! Is it not enough that you weary human beings? Must you also weary my God? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign; the young woman, pregnant and about to bear a son, shall name him Emmanuel.

Isaiah 7:13-14

Ahaz needed reassurance that he and his people would not be torn apart by their enemies. The Lord exhorted him – and through him, his people – to stand firm, to trust in Him. But He spoke not only to Ahaz, but to all mankind. Isn’t it the case that we often need reassurance that we will not be torn apart by the Enemy, from attacks without and within? Who of us hasn’t trembled at the weight of our own sin and the pressure of temptation!

The message given through the prophet Isaiah speak more profoundly in light of this spiritual battle: “Thus says the Lord God: It shall not stand, it shall not be!” God will not permit His beloved children to stand alone.

What is required of us is neither power nor strength, but instead trust. Some two thousand years ago, our heavenly Father sent His Word to us, incarnate in the person of Christ. By the Father’s will, Jesus sent us His Holy Spirit – and assures us that where two or three are gathered in His name, He is there with them. May we confidently call on the Lord, knowing that He has already come, is with us, and will bring us through our present struggles to eternal joy & peace.

And if you’re looking for good version of that eponymous hymn, here is one of my favorite popular renditions of ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’:

O Rex Gentium (December 22)

image provided by the USCCB

Today is the penultimate day of the O Antiphons, and what a grand one it is: “O King of all nations and keystone of the Church: come and save man, whom you formed from the dust!”

There is a quote about when a man ceases to worship God, he will end up worshipping anything. Though attributed to G.K. Chesterton, it seems this quote is actually an amalgamation of different speeches of Chesterton’s fictional Father Brown. However it might have originated, there’s something to it: we know our hearts are missing something – and we seek to fill that gap with something greater than ourselves.

The Church warns us of seven deadly sins: “They are called ‘capital’ because they engender other sins, other vices. They are pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth or acedia.” (CCC 1866) If they take root in our lives, these sins become dominant in us – so much so that they take over (ie, ‘he’s ruled by his pride’). And what cruel rulers they prove to be, when we subject ourselves to them!

One of my favorite quotes from The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe – the first book of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia – speaks about the kind of kingship that is uniquely the Lord’s, modeled in the character of Aslan:

“Who is Aslan?” asked Susan.
“Aslan?” said Mr. Beaver, “Why, don’t you know? He’s the King.”

[. . . .]

You’ll understand when you see him.”
“But shall we see him?” asked Susan.
“Why, Daughter of Eve, that’s what I brought you here for. I’m to lead you where you shall meet him,” said Mr. Beaver.
“Is–is he a man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion–the Lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he–quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver. “If there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ’Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

– C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe

Strange though it may sound, choosing deadly sins as our king often seems safer than inviting Christ to be our king. With sin, there is the illusion of control, of having power over others, the world, and ourselves. With Christ, the illusion of control is stripped away and our powerlessness laid bare. Of course this would make us nervous! But as we are reminded by the character of Mr. Beaver, our king is good. May we ask the Lord to help us trust Him, that we might recognize His kingship – and so receive the good things He is preparing for us.

O Oriens (December 21)

image provided by the USCCB

Throughout C.S. Lewis’ book The Great Divorce, there is the constant anticipation of the coming dawn, the morning light that will shine on a people who have been looking for illumination all their lives. Throughout the story, we are introduced to characters whose search have brought them to the edge of heaven – theirs to enter if only they’ll turn away from the darkness of sins they so treasure, allowing themselves to be brought to the eternal light, and more importantly, the One who is the source of that light.

I can’t say enough to recommend this brief story (less than 150 pages!) – it is a lovely reflection on the divide between heaven & hell. In the end, we all must choose between being swallowed up in the darkness of their sins or set free to in the light of the new day of the Lord. Perhaps C.S. Lewis was inspired by the Canticle of Zechariah, where the husband of Elizabeth – his lips finally freed at the birth of his son John the Baptist – praises the tender mercy of God and announces the dawn from on high coming to shine on us who live in darkness and the shadow of death.

In today’s antiphon, the Church invites us to turn from the darkness of the world to the light of Christ, the fifth of the O Antiphons: “Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.” May we invite the Lord to illuminate our hearts and minds such that we recognize where we need Him most, asking Him to drive away all that keeps us from eagerly turning towards the Risen Son.

O Clavis David (December 20)

image provided by the USCCB

Today’s fourth of the O Antiphons speaks of the Lord as the key: “O Key of David, opening the gates of God’s eternal Kingdom: come and free the prisoners of darkness!”

This language comes from Isaiah 22:22, alluding to the authority of the one chosen by God, according to the house of David. Keys signify authority – only those who have a right to what a key unlocks are permitted to carry them. The one with the keys can bar others from entering, or swing wide the doors to allow them in.

In Christian tradition, too, keys hold a rich symbolism. The Lord Himself used the language of keys when, in response to Peter’s confession of faith, He entrusts ‘the keys to the kingdom of heaven’ to Peter and the Apostles: whatever they bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever they loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Thus was established the sacrament of confession, in which we receive and celebrate the mercy of God.

Though the Lord has authority to enter through any doors, He respects the authority we have over our own hearts; He will not enter uninvited. Similarly, He will not force us to pass through the entrance of heaven which He has swung open on our behalf. Instead, He gently knocks at the doors of our hearts, ready to invite & welcome us into His. May we take the opportunity to respond, allowing the Lord in – especially through the celebration of the sacrament of confession – so that with Him, we might be made worthy to enter the gates of God’s eternal Kingdom.

O Radix Jesse (December 19)

image provided by the USCCB

Every year, the Church throws a curveball at Her clerics – having them read the genealogy of Jesus Christ at Mass. The first is for in December 17 and the second at the vigil of the Nativity of the Lord. The Church clearly intends for Her members to sit with the heritage of our Saviour. We have not one, not two, but three invitations to reflection in this the third of the O Antiphons: “O Root of Jesse’s stem, sign of God’s love for all his people: come to save us without delay!”

This turn of phrase – ‘root of Jesse’ – comes from the prophet Isaiah. The entirety of chapter 11 of the book of the prophet Isaiah details the promise of a new king in the line of King David, bringing with Him a new era of prosperity and peace for God’s people – and it starts with the imagery of today’s antiphon: “But a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.”

The commentary in the New American Bible observes that the language of ‘shoot’ and ‘stump’ is meant to highlight the failings, corruption even, of the monarchs of old. Despite King David being the greatest of the priests of Israel, he was weak and corrupt – to the point of taking another man’s wife and killing her husband to hide his transgressions. The kings that followed David and his son, Solomon, were progressively worse. Eventually, the entire kingdom of Israel fractured into countless pieces because of the brokenness of their kings.

In reflecting on the antiphon immediately prior to this one, ‘O Adonai’, we saw how God’s people demanded a replacement for the Lord – a request He granted, albeit with significant warnings. But He does not abandon His people, despite their rejection of Him. Not only that, but He promises to remedy their mistake long before the full repercussions have set in!

In reflecting on today’s antiphon, this promise is re-presented to us. May we open ourselves to Him anew, inviting God to restore us to Himself, rooting ourselves once again in Him.

O Adonai (December 18)

image provided by the USCCB

When it comes to discussing leadership, the request of the people of Israel to Samuel comes to mind: “Therefore all the elders of Israel assembled and went to Samuel at Ramah and said to him, “Now that you are old, and your sons do not follow your example, appoint a king over us, like all the nations, to rule us” (Samuel 8:5).

Samuel, as you might imagine, was decidedly not amused – not only were the elders making a crazy demand, they threw in a little personal insult to boot! But as he prays to the Lord, God points out that it is not Samuel they are rejecting, but Him. And so the Lord – even as He grants their request – delivers this warning through His prophet Samuel:

He told them: “The governance of the king who will rule you will be as follows: He will take your sons and assign them to his chariots and horses, and they will run before his chariot.

He will appoint from among them his commanders of thousands and of hundreds. He will make them do his plowing and harvesting and produce his weapons of war and chariotry.

He will use your daughters as perfumers, cooks, and bakers.

He will take your best fields, vineyards, and olive groves, and give them to his servants.

He will tithe your crops and grape harvests to give to his officials and his servants.

He will take your male and female slaves, as well as your best oxen and donkeys, and use them to do his work.

He will also tithe your flocks. As for you, you will become his slaves.

On that day you will cry out because of the king whom you have chosen, but the LORD will not answer you on that day.”

Samuel 8:11

The next time you have to pay your taxes, serve in mandatory civil work, see your family & friends sent into battles chosen (or even started) by rulers – remember this moment in the history of God’s people. I certainly do!

The thing is, I’m just as guilty as they in rejecting God as my king. Despite the audacity of their request, at least the Israelites were open about it. How often do we do the same, but in ways that are less open & honest – at least to ourselves?

And so we come to the second of our O Antiphons, offered this evening at Vespers: “O Leader of the House of Israel, giver of the Law to Moses on Sinai: come to rescue us with your mighty power!” Perhaps now more than ever, we know that we need the One who can lead us with perfect goodness (dare I say, we need a hero!). May we invite the Lord to take His place as our leader & guide.

O Sapientia – the first of the O Antiphons (December 17)

image provided by the USCCB

Today we begin the octave before Christmas, during which we have one of O Antiphons each day. These antiphons are part of Vespers – Evening Prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours. If you recognize these, it is probably because they form the basis for the Advent hymn ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’ – though that particular antiphon is the last antiphon, despite being the first verse of the hymn! It seems popular practice sometimes trumps exact liturgical correctness ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But nevermind all that, because today’s antiphon is O Sapientia or O Wisdom. The full text is “O Wisdom of our God Most High, guiding creation with power and love: come to teach us the path of knowledge!“

When discussing evangelization, one of the hurdles folks sometimes face is the sense that they don’t know enough to convey the truths of the faith accurately. In those conversations, it is often a revelation to realize that wisdom has little to do with knowledge of doctrine & dogma and more to do with relationship with the Lord. Provided that we spend time with Him regularly, invite Him into our lives, pay attention to His promptings & presence, we will be the best of evangelists – simply by virtue of our friendship with God.

Wisdom is not the simple regurgitation of facts about Christ and His Church, but being able to discern & live with the mind of Christ! As we draw near to the conclusion of Advent, may we open ourselves to receive God’s loving guidance.

(My friend Thom Ryng, over at his blog The World is Quiet Here, has kicked off his annual reflections on the O Antiphons – I highly recommend it, and his blog in general!)

Thanksgiving in Advent

A more appetizing offering than those recently offered around here (image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

Happy Advent and, belatedly, happy Thanksgiving! I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything in this space – in fact, yesterday’s post was a long-unfinished reflection that I decided to wrap up late in the night. Thanks to a glitch (probably prompted by the flickering lights as Seattle deals with early snowfall!), it got published before this post. Rather than find and fight the gremlins on my computer and in the cloud, I decided to just roll with it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It hasn’t been lost on me that the last couple of things to be put on this website – and that have been front and center for the last six months – have been relatively heavy posts. Not a few of my parishioners expressed some consternation at the rather dour outlook I was presenting. Not only was the financial picture strikingly negative, but a particular point stood out for some:

It is one of my greatest sorrows that such community rarely, if ever, is to be found in the life of the Catholic Church. There are sometimes glimpses of lively and connected Christian community, but so very seldom to be found in a parish. I recall a classmate in seminary who said that we Catholics are sometimes referred to as “the chosen frozen” by other denominations, at least here in the United States. I wish it didn’t ring so true. And yet, I find that when I need meaningful friendships or personal support, the Catholic Church is not somewhere I can find either one.

Advent wreath in a German church

Though not intended to be a direct statement on the life of my own parish and her people, it prompted at least a few folks to question just that. I couldn’t help but be reminded of a scene in Firefly where Kaylee asks Simon “isn’t there anything about this place you’re glad of?” Unlike Simon at the time, I am quite ready to answer in the affirmative: absolutely, yes!

On that front, I’ve recently made a more conscious effort to take time daily to review what blessings, graces, and joys I experienced recently. With the beginning of Advent this last Sunday, I was particularly struck by some very clear blessings and joys – not just in my own life, but in the life of the parish.

The first is simply the beginning of the Advent season. Here at Saint Mark – a parish that prides itself on taking pains to celebrate the liturgy worthily and well – Advent is an opportunity to really mix things up. Out go the regular flowers in the sanctuary, in comes the wreath! And not just any old wreath, but a four foot by four foot ring of decorated greenery, with beautiful, tall candles, raised up by well-ornamented brass stands (re-purposed candlesticks, I think, but I haven’t looked too closely). It’s quite lovely. And I always get a kick out of the pomp & circumstance of the blessing of the Advent wreath at the first Mass of the weekend.

Accompanying this is the addition of a new pew missal for our congregation: the Source & Summit Missal. I chose this missal specifically for its emphasis on chanting the Mass – it contains the full antiphons for every Sunday Mass: entrance, offertory, and communion. Now every parishioner who so desires may join in chanting the antiphons – as is both their right and duty! We practiced together before Mass and boy, did it pay off. For the first time in a long time, the congregation and choir sung the antiphons together- lifting their voices as they chanted ‘To you I lift up my soul, O God . . . . ‘. The choir helped keep the tones with a few hand bells, used sparingly but to great effect.

Capping off the first Sunday of Advent, we concluded the last Mass and then immediately had a brief indoor Eucharistic procession – exposing the Blessed Sacrament and processing around the inside perimeter of the parish. The pastor had the bright idea of leading a hymn as we processed, but he forgot the second verse (!) – but it was no less beautiful for his lapse in memory. I was heartened to see that easily half of the congregation stayed for the procession, with most of those joining in walking behind the monstrance. As we ended with the Tantum Ergo and benediction, I couldn’t help but again be moved, and grateful to be praying among so many devout and reverent brothers & sisters in Christ.

Why share all of this? In part, because good news seems awfully hard to find lately – despite the pandemic concluding and normalcy being within reach, it sure seems like a lot of us are still struggling to find peace and joy in the world. If you’re a member of my parish, maybe you’ll join me in seeing some of the graces that are peeking out behind the clouds. I’d be interested, by the way, in those that you see and would like to share! And for everyone reading this, regardless of parish, I hope hearing about these things still helps encourage you. It is good to know that we’re not alone in this: not only do we all struggle at some point, but we’re in it together – accompanied and buoyed up by the Lord.

Finally, to that end, check out this rather wonderful folk group I discovered recently. The first song in this playlist (‘Rain Clouds’) has been theme song lately – you’ll notice that some of my writing here is rather shameless inspired by the lyrics. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. In any case, God bless you this Advent – may it be full of graces & blessings.

Sitting with Jeremiah & Jonah

Sometimes people ask me what I think is the hardest part of priesthood. In this season of my ministry, the answer is easy: the hardest thing for me as a priest is to know the path forward and watch people ignore it, avoid it, or otherwise refuse to walk in the way God invites them. I imagine parents have a similar heartache – how painful it must be to watch their children make decisions they know will only come to regret later on! And therein lies the rub of genuine love – it honors free will even when that will is oriented towards something harmful or dangerous.

The Prophet Jeremiah, from the series of Prophets and Sibyls in the Sistine Chapel

In moments like this, I am reminded of one of my favorite Old Testament figures: the prophet Jeremiah. His role in the history of God’s people is unenviable – to say the least! He was called to proclaim that Jerusalem would be destroyed, the nation of Judah would suffer greatly, and eventually, that they would all be made captives in a land not their own. All of this was due to Israel’s great sin in forsaking God and worshipping Baal, even to the point of sacrificing their own children.

As you might imagine, Jeremiah was not exactly the life of the party nor welcomed pretty much anywhere. Not only was he tasked with the responsibility of proclaiming his own people’s downfall and calling them to repentance, but they in turn shunned him, even to the point of exiling him or outright plotting to kill him on more than one occasion. Jeremiah never gave up on his people, even when it meant sharing in the sorrows of their punishment, continuing to try to turn them back to the Lord.

Jonah and the Whale, by Pieter Lastman

The other prophet with whom I relate well is Jonah. He’s a little more well-known, particularly for his time in the whale after he tried to escape God and His instruction to go to Nineveh to call them to repentance. The people of Nineveh – unlike those to whom Jeremiah preached – responded. Not only that, they responded quickly and wholeheartedly. Jonah was only one day into the city when the entire city, from king to commoner, covered themselves in sackcloth and beseeched the Lord for mercy – which He granted them.

What people often overlook in this story is what comes next: the uncovering of Jonah’s heart. Rather than rejoicing with Nineveh at their conversion and God’s graciousness towards them, he is ticked; he didn’t want the Ninevites to be forgiven! He goes out of the city to sulk. Only after a rather miraculous – and convicting – interaction between him and the Lord does the lesson of God’s love begin to sink in.

The tension between the vindictiveness of Jonah and the faithfulness of Jeremiah is stark. To be sure, Jonah grew in fidelity and kindness and I’ve no doubt that Jeremiah was tempted to despair & anger. Still, when it comes to who I want to model myself after, Jeremiah wins hands down every time.

And yet, I sympathize so much with Jonah’s frustration & anger – or more accurately, I often share in it. Whether it is in the sentiment of ‘what’s the point?’ (that God is going to be gracious no matter my efforts) or a darker ‘I want to see someone get theirs!’, I see more clearly the temptation to enter into the same self-righteousness – and self-pity – that drove Jonah to first run from the Lord and then go off and sulk when the Lord didn’t live up to his hopes for some divine smiting.

Years ago a then-new priest shared with me that he often found particular inspiration for preaching in the first reading at Mass. This surprised him, because he understood himself and his priesthood to be ordered towards Christ. Surely the Old Testament would take lower priority than the Gospel!? And yet, there he was, preaching on the Old Testament – and finding (and sharing!) greater understanding of Jesus in the process.

It seems to me that God’s self-revelation to His people – and their relationship with Him – in Old Testament often gets short shrift from Christians….forgetting that Jesus Himself was formed by the Old Testament, constantly quoted it, and used it to bring people closer to Him and His Father.

As an imperfect, often struggling Christians, sitting with all of those who have gone before us in faith is a gift we ought not deny ourselves. We may unexpectedly find brothers & sisters who have shared in our hardships and difficulties – and who can model for us how we they might be overcome by and with the Lord.