God relentlessly pursues us with grace, even when we run or resist, inviting us to trust His presence and respond to His call.
Some of us know the sound of God’s whisper as well as we know our own name. It comes in the quiet of a morning commute, in the nudge you can’t shake, in the Scripture that lands like a letter with your address on it. And some of us know the sound of our feet when they’re running in the opposite direction. We know the language of excuses, the logic of delay, the lure of “later.” If that’s you today, you’re not alone. Jonah would take a seat right next to you and nod his head.
Ever tried to outrun God? How far did you get? Tarshish always looks appealing on the brochure—sunny skies, a clean break, a ship ready to sail. Meanwhile, Nineveh looks like risk, responsibility, and raw obedience. But the heart of God isn’t found in glossy getaways; it’s found where He calls your name. And here’s the good news for runners, wanderers, and worriers: God does not quit. He is the pursuer of prodigals, the shepherd who goes after the sheep with your scent still fresh on His hands.
The old pastor John Wesley put it like this: “The best of all is, God is with us.” That’s not just a motto for good days; it’s an anchor for stormy nights. God with us when we resist. God with us when we’re wrong. God with us in the belly of consequences, bringing mercy to places we never thought mercy could reach. If you’ve ever carried a ticket to Tarshish in your pocket, if you’ve ever felt the cold wind of regret on your face, take heart. Your Father has not turned His back. He’s turning your ship.
Jonah’s story is not about a stubborn man and a strange fish as much as it is about a faithful God and a second chance. It’s about a call that came, a heart that hid, a storm that spoke, and a grace that would not let go. It’s about the God who speaks into our hesitation, interrupts our flight, and invites us again to stand and go. And it’s about you and me—because somewhere in this text is a reflection of our choices, our storms, and our rescue.
Before we walk any further, let’s hear the word that started it all. Listen for the cadence of God’s voice: firm, clear, loving, and unafraid to confront.
Scripture Reading: Jonah 1:1-3 (ESV) 1 Now the word of the LORD came to Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, 2 “Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me.” 3 But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the LORD. He went down to Joppa and found a ship going to Tarshish. So he paid the fare and went on board, to go with them to Tarshish, away from the presence of the LORD.
Can you hear it? “Arise.” God doesn’t mumble when He calls; He makes it unmistakable. Yet Jonah chooses a different map—down to Joppa, down into a ship, down into a sleep, and down into the sea. That’s what running does. It takes us down—down from clarity to confusion, down from boldness to fear, down from peace to turbulence. But even when we choose down, God is still reaching down. He is the Lord of the wind and the waves, the Captain who calls our name over the roar, the Father whose love is stronger than our stubbornness.
Maybe you’ve been resisting a conversation you need to have, a calling you need to heed, a confession you need to make. Maybe you feel a long way from the nearness you once knew. Hear this with hope: the same God who spoke to Jonah still speaks, still seeks, still saves. He does not shame you; He summons you. He does not discard you; He redirects you. He writes grace into our chapters with a steady hand, even when our sentences are full of detours.
So let’s bring our whole selves to God today—the weariness and the wanting, the fear and the faith, the ticket to Tarshish and the tears we’ve tried to hide. Let’s ask Him to speak, to steady, to save, and to send. Because when He calls, He also carries. And when He commands, He also supplies. The sea may roar, but His mercy runs deeper still.
Opening Prayer: Father, we are listening. Quiet the storms within us so we can hear Your voice above us. Where we have resisted, soften us. Where we have run, stop us with Your kindness. Where we are afraid, assure us that Your presence is our peace. Speak through Your word with clarity that cuts through our excuses, with compassion that lifts our heads, and with courage that strengthens our steps. Lift us from the depths of our disobedience into the light of Your mercy. Make our hearts quick to say “yes,” our feet quick to arise, and our lives a witness to Your unrelenting grace. In the name of Jesus, who calms seas and saves sailors, amen.
God spoke to Jonah by name and gave him a task. Go to Nineveh. Speak against its evil. The message was plain. The sender was the LORD. The hearer was a prophet who already knew the voice he was hearing. This was his field of work. He had spoken for God before. He had seen God act before. So the issue in these verses is not confusion. The issue is will.
The call came with detail and direction. It named the city. It named the problem. It called for public speech. Nineveh was famous in that era. It was large. It was powerful. It was harsh. The Assyrians wrote their victories in stone and blood. Their cruelty was known. For a prophet from Israel, walking into that city would feel risky and strange. It would raise questions about safety. It would raise questions about loyalty. It would test old grudges. It would pull Jonah beyond what felt normal for a court prophet who had once spoken good news for his own king. God asked for words that confront sin in a place that did not honor Israel’s God. So the assignment came with weight. Callings like this are clear in wording and heavy in cost. They pull us away from self-protecting plans. They put us in places where our name, our past wins, and our comfort cannot carry us.
Jonah chose a different direction. He stood up and headed for a port. He found a ship that pointed far away. He used his own money. He climbed on board. Each step shows intent. He did not stumble into this. He arranged it. He used effort and coin to move his body away from the task. The text says he went to get away from the LORD’s presence. In Israel, that phrase ties to the place of worship and to the role of a prophet who stands before God. Jonah tried to put distance between himself and the place where he was meant to listen and speak. Tarshish sat at the edge of the map for people in his day. It stood for the far reaches of trade and travel. So he aimed for the horizon. Resistance often looks like planning. We make schedules. We make purchases. We build a path that keeps us busy and far. The price tag is real. Disobedience takes resources. It drains strength. It steals rest. It asks for more and gives less.
Why would a prophet run from a clear word? The book itself gives a reason later. Jonah knew God’s character. He knew God shows grace. He knew God holds back anger. He feared a scene where the message lands, people turn, and God spares them. That thought angered him. Old hurts and national pain sat deep in him. The Assyrians were enemies. He could imagine them alive and spared. He could imagine them breathing the air his own people breathe. So fear plays a part. Pride plays a part. Prejudice plays a part. Self-preservation plays a part. When these mix inside us, they press against obedience. We start to rewrite the call in our minds. We say, That is too risky. That is unfair. That will fail. That will make me look foolish. The reasons feel wise in the moment. They sound like careful planning. They feel like common sense. They grow large enough to silence the simple word we heard.
The writer repeats a key line in verse 3. Jonah went away from the presence of the LORD. That line is more than geography. It is a choice about nearness. Prophets are meant to stand before God. They receive and they speak. When a prophet walks away from presence, the gift of hearing grows faint. The heart gets heavy. Prayer gets rare. Worship feels thin. Community becomes optional. The mind hunts for noise that can fill the new gap. That same pattern shows up in us. We stop opening the Bible. We stop honest prayer. We dodge wise friends. We get busy with trips and tasks. We stay in motion so we do not have to sit still and face the call. The text helps us name that pattern. It warns us that leaving presence is the core move in resistance. It shows us that the steps to the ship were steps away from the place Jonah was meant to stand.
Verse 3 slows the story down on purpose ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO
Sermon Central
