The readings today place before us a quiet but powerful truth: God is less interested in dramatic signs and grand gestures than in hearts that are willing to change. Jonah’s second call to Nineveh reminds us that God does not easily give up on us. The word of the Lord comes again—not because Jonah was perfect, but because God is persistent in mercy. Lent, too, is this “second time”: another chance to listen, to respond, to begin again.
What is striking about Nineveh is not Jonah’s eloquence—his message is brief and stark—but the people’s openness. They believed in God. From the greatest to the smallest, including the king himself, they step down from positions of comfort, power, and certainty. Sackcloth and ashes are outward signs, but the true conversion happens within: “every man shall turn from his evil way and from the violence he has in hand.” Their repentance is communal, embodied, and concrete. And God sees—not their fear, but their actions—and relents. In the Gospel, Jesus alludes to Jonah, indicating that even though He stands greater than Jonah and greater than Solomon, still their hearts remain closed. The invitation of Jesus, therefore, is to stop searching for extraordinary proofs and instead recognize God’s presence in the ordinary, demanding moments of daily life: in conscience, in Scripture, in the quiet invitations to repent and return.
Psalm 51 gives voice to the inner movement behind such conversion. “A heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn.” Lent strips us of the illusion that we can earn God’s mercy through performance or sacrifice alone. What God desires is honesty: a clean heart, a steadfast spirit, a willingness to stand truthfully before Him. This kind of humility is not weakness; it is courage—the courage to admit we need mercy and to receive it. Lent, then, is not about waiting for a sign but about becoming one. Like Jonah, our lives are meant to point beyond ourselves. Like Nineveh, our communities are called to collective conversion. And like the psalmist, we are invited to trust that God never rejects a heart that turns toward Him—however late, however imperfectly.
Questions for Reflection:
1. Where might God be calling me “a second time” this Lent, and how am I responding?
2. What concrete action—not just intention—can express my repentance and desire for change?
3. Am I seeking signs from God, or am I willing to recognize His presence in what is already given?
Rev. Rashmi Fernando, SJ
I am a Jesuit priest and educator from the island nation of Sri Lanka, historically known as Serendib or Ceylon. I have been blessed to receive Jesuit formation and higher education across Asia, Europe, and America. Most recently, I earned my Doctorate in Interdisciplinary Leadership in Education (Ed.D.) from Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, USA, where my dissertation explored global citizenship through the lens of undergraduates’ study-abroad experiences. Deeply convinced of the power of positive narratives that education can create, I believe it holds the key to addressing the ‘care-crises’ that weigh upon humanity and our shared ‘common home,’ while also emancipating individuals and communities. In addition to serving as an online faculty member with Jesuit Worldwide Learning (JWL)—Jesuit Higher Education in the Margins— to students in Africa and the Middle East, I am currently assigned to Loyola Marymount University, Los Angeles, CA, USA.
Determined to make a distinctive, active, and intellectually grounded contribution through Jesuit higher education, I am deeply passionate about reading, writing, and teaching on global citizenship, interdisciplinary leadership, and justice and peacebuilding. In this spirit, I hold close the words of Helen Steiner Rice: “Life is a fabric, weave it with tender care; Upon the loom of life, your pattern is rare.” While I cherish the uniqueness that defines my own life and journey, I am equally committed and eager to recognizing, celebrating, and defending the uniqueness of others—believing that true beauty is revealed where there is unity in diversity, and diversity in unity.
Keep smiling—because God loves you always! I mean, ALWAYS!
