The end of Jonah
I spend a lot of time with the Jonah story. I use it often, especially in pastoral conversations. In times of deep discernment, we often feel like we are in the belly of a whale. We are, especially when we wrestle with a difficult calling. We are in the dark, and it stinks. And the best thing to do is to wait in there, until we are vomited up on the beach somewhere. Then we may emerge with clearer direction of our own calling, our mission, our purpose.
That's the part of the story that draws my attention. The waiting. It's not fun. Then if you read on, the rest of the story brings it's own challenging reality: when Jonah marches into Nineveh, and cries out, "Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!" The people actually listen. The king calls for a fast, to turn from violence, and they pray that God's mind would be changed. And so it was, Nineveh was spared.
Sounds like a happy enough ending, but the book is not called Nineveh, it's called Jonah. Jonah is not happy. He was sent there to tell them the world was ending, and when it didn't, he was mad at God. Jonah goes out and protests against God for being gracious... and Jonah gets thumped again. The first time, swallowed by an enormous fish, the second time, his desert shade-tree is eaten by a little worm.
One lesson in this story, of course, is that God will do what God will do*. If God chooses to show mercy to a people, our pouting doesn't change God, nor them. Our story is our own to live.
We have been living under the shadow of COVID-19 for more than 40 days. The fast (staying home, social distancing) we have taken on is a difficult one. Some have lost their income, and are suffering financially. Because the measures we are taking are working, some are wondering why we are doing this at all. It's not the Jonah story, but the protests against the restrictions which are keeping many people alive and healthy do remind me of Jonah's pouting. Lives are being saved because of the (restrictions I am calling a) fast. This is a real virus, and the way to fight it is to adhere to the fast.
What to do with the time we are isolated may be the most disturbing part, and may be the place of our spiritual learning. We will no doubt feel like Jonah in the belly of the whale. We may find ourselves in a dark place. We will certainly face our shadows. Maybe, like Jonah, we can pray to God, and get clarity about our own calling--so that when we are eventually vomited up (and we will be) we can be clear about our life's purpose and follow what God is calling us to next.
*I do not believe that God sent this virus to teach us a lesson in a "vengeful-old-man-in-the-sky" sort of way. It came about because it came about. A virus evolved, and in our amazingly connected world, the environment was right for it to spread quickly and globally. in us as we lovingly respond to the needs of people in this time, and follow the best advice of medical experts and governmental leaders (who are well advised by the medical experts.)
That's the part of the story that draws my attention. The waiting. It's not fun. Then if you read on, the rest of the story brings it's own challenging reality: when Jonah marches into Nineveh, and cries out, "Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!" The people actually listen. The king calls for a fast, to turn from violence, and they pray that God's mind would be changed. And so it was, Nineveh was spared.
Sounds like a happy enough ending, but the book is not called Nineveh, it's called Jonah. Jonah is not happy. He was sent there to tell them the world was ending, and when it didn't, he was mad at God. Jonah goes out and protests against God for being gracious... and Jonah gets thumped again. The first time, swallowed by an enormous fish, the second time, his desert shade-tree is eaten by a little worm.
One lesson in this story, of course, is that God will do what God will do*. If God chooses to show mercy to a people, our pouting doesn't change God, nor them. Our story is our own to live.
What to do with the time we are isolated may be the most disturbing part, and may be the place of our spiritual learning. We will no doubt feel like Jonah in the belly of the whale. We may find ourselves in a dark place. We will certainly face our shadows. Maybe, like Jonah, we can pray to God, and get clarity about our own calling--so that when we are eventually vomited up (and we will be) we can be clear about our life's purpose and follow what God is calling us to next.
*I do not believe that God sent this virus to teach us a lesson in a "vengeful-old-man-in-the-sky" sort of way. It came about because it came about. A virus evolved, and in our amazingly connected world, the environment was right for it to spread quickly and globally. in us as we lovingly respond to the needs of people in this time, and follow the best advice of medical experts and governmental leaders (who are well advised by the medical experts.)
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