Changing The World

12 October 2026  Luke 11:29-32  

“Just as Jonah became a sign to the Ninevites, so will the Son of Man be to this generation.” (Luke 11:30)

The mass repentance of the Ninevites in the 8th century B.C. is mentioned only in the Bible (Jonah 3:5-9, Luke 11:29-32), nowhere else. So, is there any reason to believe it really happened?

She, who is now honored above all women, never became proud, and the Messiah she bore didn’t either. Her last recorded words were, “Do whatever He tells you” (John 2:5). Among His last words were, “Behold your mother” (John 19:27).

In fact, there is. There were two plagues in Assyria in the eighth century B.C., one in 765, the other just a few years later in 759. The exact pathogen is unknown (some historians think it was an early version of the Bubonic Plague), but it was utterly devastating to Assyrian civilization, leading to widespread death, military and popular revolts.

Jonah appeared in Nineveh right around the time of the second plague (c. 759-8), and since it was not at all uncommon for ancient civilizations to regard plagues as the consequence of impiety, it is entirely plausible that the people, even Assyrian rulers, responded favorably to Jonah’s call for repentance. In classical antiquity there were two plagues, the Antonine Plague of 165-180 A.D., and the Plague of Cyprian of 249-62, and they so upset the Roman Empire that the number of Christians, which in the 150s had been about 1% of the population, soared to over 10% by the 260s due to the help that Christians had given those stricken by disease. It makes a kind of historical sense that the Ninevites had responded in a similar way.

The last pagan emperor of Rome, Julian the Apostate (r. 355-363), complained that the “impious Galileans” (i.e. Christians) supported not only their own people, but also cared for the destitute among the pagans. Julian thought it was a disgrace and a public embarrassment that Romans counted on Christian benevolence and hospitality more than they could count on the charity of fellow pagans. He promoted imitating the charity of Christians, but because such loving-kindness had never been a part of the Roman religious outlook, he never got very far with that. On his deathbed, according to legend (or more likely a Swinburne poem), Julian is supposed to have said, “Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has grown gray from thy breath.” Sore loser.

Jesus said, “…[T]here is something greater than Solomon here…there is something greater than Jonah here” (Luke 11:31,32). That “something” had been there since the very beginning, since Mary first knew she was to be the Mother of the Messiah. She saw that, because of what was begun in her, the mighty had been put down from their thrones, and those of low degree had been exalted; the hungry had been filled, and the rich sent away empty. The system of values and social worth whereby the proud and mighty do not recognize kinship with people below had been replaced forever (cf. Luke 1:46-55). But Mary herself did not begin to act exalted. She remained humble. She, who is now honored above all women, never became proud, and the Messiah she bore didn’t either. Her last recorded words were, “Do whatever He tells you” (John 2:5). Among His last words were, “Behold your mother” (John 19:27). From the start, to the end, Jesus and the first disciple, Mary, revealed a world in which we all regard others as worthy of our concern, regard, attention, and love.

It has been changing the world ever since. It is the only thing that ever really has.

Some say you don’t have to be a believer to live like that. Perhaps so. Funny, though, that nearly all the people who actually do live like that are believers. And almost all the people who try to do it without belief wind up like Emperor Julian.