Jonah 1-2:9
(I’d suggest just reading the whole book. It only takes about five minutes, and it’s better than you remember!)
When my brother was six years old, he announced to my parents (in front of dinner guests) that he was running away from home and never returning. As he remembers it, our parents wished him the best and let him go. My brother went down the street to his friend’s house, talked him into coming along, and together they crossed a busy street to get to a convenience store. My brother, who had planned the escape for some time, brought his life savings along and purchased survival supplies: a superball and a coloring book. At that point his friend remembered that he had to be home by 7:00 and abandoned the enterprise. My brother tried to stick with the plan a little longer but eventually returned home after what he refers to now as “several minutes of independent living.” I’d like to think that my parents tracked his progress while hiding behind bushes and parked cars, carefully assuring that no harm would come to my brother, but it was the late 1960s. Who knows if they even paused the conversation with their guests.
We human beings are great runners. We run from the truth, from trouble, from commitment, from conscience, from fears, and even from love. None of us, however, can hold a candle to Jonah, either in terms of the extremity of our running or in the belligerent attitude with which we run. When God tells Jonah to “cry out against” (1:2) the wickedness of the people of Ninevah, Jonah runs away (about 2500 miles away) in the opposite direction. When God changes Jonah’s mind by having a “great fish” swallow him up for three days, Jonah finally seems to repent. Jonah turns back to Ninevah where the people hear the message and actually repent.
One would think that Jonah would derive some satisfaction from being an instrument in the repentance of “a hundred and twenty thousand persons ”(4:11), but instead he sulks. He runs away again, this time to the outskirts of Ninevah. He waits there, still hoping that God will destroy the city after all, and Jonah remains angry when God doesn’t. God tries to show Jonah how unreasonable and immoral it is to wish for the death of an entire city, just for the sake of being right, but there’s no indication that Jonah is himself repentant. By the end of the book, he’s still running from God—spiritually, at least, when he can go no further physically.
It’s easy to look down on the figure of Jonah because he is so stubborn in his running. But when we focus on Jonah’s failings, we miss the point of God’s persistent forgiveness and love. There is no distance Jonah can travel, no ocean deep enough to conceal him, no failure big enough to exclude him from God’s relentless compassion. And if any of us are occasionally wise enough to recognize our denials of God’s call—through the meal we should have delivered to a suffering neighbor, the refugee we failed to defend, the grace we never extended to the person with such different views--we should also remember that God is patiently waiting for all of us Jonahs to exhaust ourselves with running.
Questions for Reflection:
- We tend to remember Jonah for his flight from God followed by his repentance. But the story ends with Jonah unrepentant and pouting. What does that unsatisfying ending tell us that a more conventional ending—with Jonah wiser and more obedient—could not?
- Are you running from something today? What would bring about a satisfying conclusion to that running?
Prayer:
Patient and tireless God, we run from so many things that frighten us, our own vulnerability most of all. Remind us that you are always present in our darkest depths and no amount of running can separate us from your love. Amen.
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