Thursday, January 29, 2015

Why Jonah Makes Me Squirm



Anyone who grew up in the Church and went to Sunday school on a regular basis likely knows the story of Jonah. At least they know the story of Jonah’s initial disobedience, the storm, the fish, and Nineveh’s repentance. Interestingly, at least from my recollection, there is not a lot of attention given to chapter 4 of Jonah. But we dare not forget how the book of Jonah ends. Quite simply, the book ends without any real resolution and it presents the prophet…well, in a less than favorable light. Furthermore, the manner in which the book ends demands that anyone who has a history of following God take inventory of themselves and ask, “Am I Jonah?” This is what makes me squirm.

The opening of Jonah presents something of an elusive atmosphere. According to Jonah 1:1, we are merely told that Jonah is the son of Amittai. Jonah does make another appearance in the Old Testament, 2 Kgs 14:23-27, and this actually turns out to be informative. There, one reads how the prophet gave a positive word to Israel during the reign of Jeroboam II. What is critical is that Jeroboam II’s reign represents the point in which the northern kingdom reached its geographic apex. Soon, the Neo-Assyrian Empire would move to suffocate the entire Levant on its way to Egypt, eventually overrunning Israel in the process. In other words, after Jeroboam II, Israel continually shrinks under the pressure of Neo-Assyria.

Yet perhaps the most elusive component to the opening verses of Jonah is why Jonah chooses to run away from his divine appointed task. Think about this for a second. Jonah is a prophet, whose job it is to proclaim God’s word, and we are told in 1:2 that the content of the message will spell doom for Nineveh. Why then does Jonah run the other way? Logic suggests this to be an opportunity that he should have embraced. An opportunity to predict the downfall of one’s historic enemies is, however, rejected emphatically. Was the prophet afraid of the Ninevites or concerned for his well being?

Ultimately, we find that Jonah was afraid all right, but he was afraid of how God was going to respond if the people of Nineveh repented. Jonah declares in 4:2 as a response to the Lord’s decision to relent from his judgment, “O Lord! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to repent from perishing” (NRSV). You see, Jonah knew that there was a possibility of salvation, and this deeply troubled him. He knew the character of God, which meant the possibility that Nineveh would be spared, and he chose to do what he could to prevent this potential turn of events. This, by itself, is a terrible indictment of the prophet. What is more, Jonah boldly proclaims in 4:3 that he would rather die than see Nineveh survive for one more day.

Jonah goes on to repeat his desire for death two more times in chapter 4, and this recurrence is intertwined with a series of questions and lessons designed to get the prophet and the reader thinking. Firstly, God asks in v. 4, “Is it right for you to be angry?” The text does not offer an audible response, only the prophet’s retreat to outside the city with the intention of seeing what would happen to the city. Such a response smacks of bitterness and childishness. Does Jonah think that if he pouts enough God will change his mind again (cf. 3:10) and bring destruction upon the city? Second, God sends a bush to comfort Jonah, and he then sends a worm to destroy the bush and a scorching wind to torment the prophet. Here we read of the final two occurrences of the prophet’s request to die. In fact, the third, and final, request to die (4:9) represents the concluding words of the prophet. Such a sad, tragic conclusion.

Yet Jonah’s bitter request are not the final words of the book.

Then the Lord said, “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?”

With these words, we see that the bush symbolizes divine mercies given to us. God is essentially saying, “So, you are concerned solely with the mercies that I give you—without any consideration of my character. You are concerned with the “good” that I give you, and when that goes away you feel that you have been slighted in some way…that I am unfair. You want a one-way street. Yet you get ticked and cry “unfair” when I choose to offer that same grace, mercy, and salvation to people you perceive to be unworthy and beyond salvation merely because of who they are and whence they came. How does that make any sense?”

What is so sobering for me—and this is what makes me squirm—is that Jonah’s sour attitude tends to resonate more with people who have a history of walking with God. Jonah was a prophet who had a history with serving the Lord (cf. 2 Kgs 14). As such, he had formulated assumptions and perceptions—all of which grew out of his experiences. We do the same thing. However, Jonah's problem was that he was not able to let new insights tweak his perception(s) so that they would fall in line with divine intentions. What is more, he fought any recalibration with tenacity.

Ultimately, there are questions that we need to ask ourselves.
1.      Do our assumptions about God and his actions carry the day? Are we so convinced how things should be that we out right reject any spiritual recalibration?
2.      Do we get angry with God when his actions seem to cut against what we believe is right or think is fair?
3.      Do we have a problem with our enemies being offered the same gracious salvation that we have accepted?

If we answer “yes” to any of these questions, then—at some level—we are Jonah.

No comments:

Post a Comment