Shorter
Books of the Bible: Jonah
Text:
the book of Jonah.
I: -- Victims
of horrific cruelty don’t forget readily.
Victims of horrific cruelty remain suspicious for centuries.
Victims of horrific cruelty find it hard to forgive.
They don’t want to be told they should forgive.
They simply want to be left alone.
In 722 BCE Assyrian armies swept through
the
Near East
. They became notorious for
their cruelty. Do you
remember the poem by Lord Byron we studied in high school – “The
Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold”?
There are caves in
Palestine
to this day where we can find etched into cave-walls depictions of
Assyrian cruelty: men beheaded, children disembowelled, pregnant women
ripped open. The Assyrians
did it. Up until the
Assyrian assault there had been twelve tribes in
Israel
. The Assyrians slew ten.
After 722 BCE there were only two tribes left, Judah and
Benjamin. The other ten will
never be seen again.
The capital city of
Assyria
is
Nineveh
. Jonah is commanded to go
to
Nineveh
and announce the gospel; then he’s to summon the Ninevites to repent
in light of the gospel. Jonah
objects. “How can you
expect me to announce the news of your amnesty”, he cries to God,
“in light of what the Ninevites have done to my people,
Israel
?”
Perhaps we want to say, “Whether or not
Jonah has it in him to announce God’s amnesty to the Assyrians and
invite them to join
Israel
in the
kingdom
of
God
isn’t our problem. It may
be Jonah’s problem, but it isn’t ours, since Assyria is long gone,
and together with it its capital city,
Nineveh
.”
But if we speak like this we have spoken
too soon, because the city of
Nineveh
is alive and well today. Its
name today is Masoul. Masoul
is a city in present-day
Iraq
. Regardless of how we
assess American intervention in
Iraq
, I trust we are aware that present-day Iraqi cruelty is no small
matter. I trust we don’t
think that Saddam Hussein was a Boy Scout.
As
if the Assyrian savagery in 722 BCE weren’t enough, in 586 BCE the
Babylonians overran
Israel
. This time the Babylonians
didn’t put
Israel
’s people to the sword; instead they carried some of
Israel
’s people off into exile and humiliated them.
The Jewish people who were left behind were leaderless.
They fell apart.
The exile, however, didn’t last as long as expected.
The exiled people who survived the exile and returned to
Palestine
had terrible stories to tell. Jonah
cries to God that he can’t forget what the nations have done to his
people, and for this reason he simply can’t announce the gospel of
God’s amnesty and issue the invitation to repent or “come home” to
the waiting Father. Is there
anyone here whose heart doesn’t go out to Jonah?
The Assyrians had tortured, and then slain,
ten of the twelve tribes. The
remaining two tribes had had detestable pagan practices forced upon
them. The leaders who
returned from exile vowed that
Israel
would purge itself of all pagan accretions and make itself religiously
pure, ethnically pure, nationally pure.
Israel
would purify itself in order to protect itself, and protect itself in
order to preserve itself. Jonah
fears that even to carry the message of God’s good news to
Nineveh
might find Ninevites wanting to join
Israel
, thus compromising
Israel
’s purity. Besides, Jonah
has no stomach for the enterprise in any case.
Israel
knew that God had appointed it to be a light to the nations, a light to
the gentiles.
Israel
was ordained to be the cutting edge of God’s transformation of the
world.
Israel
was therefore always to be looking beyond itself and moving beyond
itself. After the exile,
however, many Israelites had lost all heart and all stomach for their
vocation. They were too
weary and too dispirited to be a light anywhere.
All they wanted to do was purify themselves in order to protect
themselves in order to preserve themselves.
Nevertheless some Israelites wouldn’t
settle for this. They
protested. We can read their
protest in two of the shorter books of the bible, Ruth and Jonah.
These two books tell us that God’s care for his creatures is as
wide as the world – and so must be
Israel
’s.
Israel
must take up its vocation once again: a light to the nations, even a
light to that nation which has savaged
Israel
.
II: -- Let’s
look more closely at the book of Jonah itself.
It’s listed as one of the prophetic books of the Older
Testament, but it differs from them in that it’s about one man,
whereas all other prophetic books feature a prophet’s message, not a
“prophet’s” biography. In
other words, the book of Jonah isn’t a prophetic book of the order of
Isaiah or Amos or Jeremiah.
Then of course there’s the incident of
the whale. “Jonah and the
whale” is the story that children are told since infancy.
What too few people notice, however, is that a whale isn’t even
mentioned in the story. The
text speaks not of a whale (which is an air-breathing mammal) but of a
great fish. The “great
fish” episode, however, can scarcely be the point of the story when
the fish episode takes up only three verses of the entire book.
Then is the book of Jonah history or
parable? Let me say right
now that if it isn’t history its force as Word of God isn’t
diminished at all. Our
Lord’s parables are just that – parables, not history, and no one
questions the truth and force of his parables (sanctified fiction) as
Word of God on the ground that they are parables and not history.
Let me tell you what I think.
If Jonah is history, it’s the oddest history written anywhere:
-a
prophet who runs away from his divine appointment instead of honouring
it (as all prophets elsewhere honour their appointment – or else they
wouldn’t be prophets);
-he
grudgingly takes up his task after the bizarrest intervention of a great
fish;
-when
his preaching does bear fruit, instead of rejoicing and praising God he
complains and sulks;
-speaking
of bearing fruit, when Jonah preaches in
Nineveh
, the entire city, without any exceptions (according to the tale)
repents and comes to faith. No
evangelist before or since has had 100% success like this, not even
Jesus, we should note;
-in
the midst of Jonah’s sea-voyage a storm arises, but the storm abates
as soon as Jonah is pitched overboard;
-when
Jonah finally gets to dry land and the sun is beating down on him, a
gourd large enough to give shade to an adult (the gourd must have been
five feet in diameter) grows up in a single day.
If you want to regard the story as history,
no one is going to object; if, on the other hand, you find the story
makes more sense as parable, you stand in good company.
III – Now
to the story itself.
[i] The
first thing to leap out at us is the capacity of our wounds to deflect
us from our vocation. Our
wounds can easily precipitate bitterness and vindictiveness, thereby
deflecting us from our vocation. God
orders Jonah to
Nineveh
. Jonah boards the ship and
deliberately heads in the wrong direction, as far from
Nineveh
as he can get. Jonah
wasn’t around when Assyria, the country whose capital city is
Nineveh
, savaged the Israelite people. The
cruel deed occurred hundreds of years before Jonah was born.
Still, just to think of an event hundreds of years ago is enough
to acidulate Jonah’s heart and curdle his spirit.
So very bitter is Jonah – not at what was done to him but at
what was done to his ancestors generations earlier – that the mere
historical recounting of his people’s tragedy blinds him and deafens
him to the work God has assigned him.
So very bitter is he that even after he has
turned around and gone to
Nineveh
; after the city has repented
and turned to God he’s angry: the repentant city will now be spared
destruction, and Jonah would rather see it pulverized and all its people
perish.
The wounds you and I sustain have enormous
capacity to render us vindictive. Our
vindictiveness fills up our heart until we are preoccupied with it,
until every other consideration has been squeezed out and our vocation
is long forgotten.
I learned a long time ago that the wounded
person may have been victimized by something that isn’t his fault at
all. Therefore we rightly
pity him for the pain he’s in. I
learned too, however, that the person horribly victimized and in
dreadful pain should never be regarded as harmless.
The more someone is in pain, the more dangerous he is.
The primary damage we sustain when we are
wounded is the wound itself. The
secondary damage is the poisoning of our own heart and mind.
The tertiary damage is the damage our poisoned spirit then
inflicts on other people.
The story of Jonah should find us all searching our heart,
soberly and seriously, lest the wounds we’ve accumulated render us
both dangerous to others and useless to God.
[ii] The
second truth this story always drives home to me is the world’s
heart-hunger for God. Jonah’s
people have endured dreadful treatment at the hands of the nations,
twice over in fact, and now are understandably hostile to the nations,
even as those same nations are crying out for the God of the people they
have mistreated.
Nineveh
’s repentance at the announcement of the gospel proves this.
Assyria
is sunk in
ungodliness, says Jonah. No
doubt it is. But according
to
Israel
’s prophets, Assyria is no more ungodly than
Israel
itself, since
Israel
is sin-ridden too. The
sailors in the Jonah story are pagan gentiles; they are neither better
nor worse than the rest of us. Yet
when Jonah is pitched overboard and the storm is stilled, says our
story, the sailors tremble before God.
The people of
Nineveh
soak up the gospel like a sponge. To
be sure, the Ninevites aren’t acquainted with the religious subtleties
of
Israel
, but this doesn’t mean that they are extraordinarily wicked or
unteachable or hopeless.
When I was a post-graduate philosophy
student an undergraduate English student who shared my library desk
spoke to me about my decision to study theology and enter the ministry.
Usually I speak of my vocation without any awkwardness at all.
In this case, however I felt awkward in that she had already told
me, emphatically if not defiantly, that she was an agnostic.
What would she understand of what I had to say?
Nonetheless, as straightforwardly and as unselfconsciously as I
could I related my experience of and understanding of the summons I’ve
never been without since age 14. When
I had finished she said quietly, “I understand you.
Plainly I don’t share your space.
I’m not in your orbit. But
I understand.” This is
precisely the sensitivity and the hunger Jonah found among the
Assyrians.
It’s easy in the church to magnify the
world’s wickedness when in truth the world’s wickedness is so very
blatant as to need no magnification.
We need instead to magnify that light and life and truth which
the world needs and for which it hungers even as it tries to feed itself
with what doesn’t nourish and therefore won’t finally satisfy.
When Jesus came upon crowds of people who
seemed hungry and bewildered and wistful all at once, he wasn’t angry
with them (as Jonah had been.) He
was moved to such pity for them, the Greek text tells us, that his
bowels knotted. He spoke of
the crowds as sheep without a shepherd, clueless.
God had spoken exactly like this at the conclusion of the Jonah
story: “You pity the gourd because it has withered in the heat of the
noon-day sun, but you don’t pity people who are like children in that
they don’t know their right hand from their left, who are like cattle
in that they’ve become a herd without knowing it?”
Cattle without benefit of discernment; children who don’t know
right hand from left; sheep without a shepherd – and through it all a
Father whose heart aches for the people he has made in his image.
[iii] Lastly,
the story of Jonah confirms us in the joy that surrounds the triumph of
God’s activity. Jonah
should have rejoiced too; instead he sulked.
His petulance, by contrast, only magnifies the joy we find
everywhere else in scripture when God’s word and way triumph.
When C.S. Lewis detailed his journey from
agnosticism to faith, he titled his autobiography Surprised
by Joy. After much
intellectual wrestling Lewis concluded that the case for God,
philosophically, was stronger than the case against God.
Once he was at the door of the kingdom he peeked through the
door, he tells us, and saw within this kingdom a mountainous superfluity
of joy. He stepped ahead and
never looked back. It all
squares with the note of joy that crowns so many of our Lord’s
parables.
Let’s be honest: if there isn’t greater
joy upon entering the
kingdom
of
God
than there is at remaining outside it, who would ever enter it?
Why would anyone bother? We
all have more than enough grief, anxiety, and difficulty in our lives
right now. The kingdom
promises something better: relief, release, rejoicing.
From
time to time people ask me why Christians sing at worship.
There are many reasons. The
simplest, however, is also the profoundest: singing is what joyful
people do naturally. Singing
is the spontaneous exclamation of joyful people.
The fact that we sing here frequently is a reminder that the
bottom line of our worship, like the bottom line of our Lord’s
parables of lost-then-recovered coin and sheep and son, is joy; the joy
that Lewis glimpsed through the doorway to the kingdom and which he held
up for the rest of his life.
What
are we to think of when we hear the word “Jonah”?
Not of a whale; not even of that “great fish” which is
mentioned in only three verses.
We are going to think of a story as new as it is old, of a story
concerning a reluctant fellow who proved, albeit left-handedly, that
God’s compassion is as wide as the world and therefore ours must be
this wide as well; that whatever bitterness and resentment and
vindictiveness our wounds have brought us must be flushed away by our
awareness of the spiritual hunger all around us, not to mention the joy
that such hungry people will know when finally they are fed.
Victor
Shepherd
November 2005