Jonah 3:10-4:4, ESVUK).
RAZED
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said – “Too right I’m angry, seething hot;
Far better had He smote me on the spot
Than made me see the staying of His hand.
His mercy stoops to depths I cannot stand:
I’ve fled it like a fugitive, till caught
And swallowed up, digested and spat out;
Reborn into a life I hadn’t planned.
Then, all obedience, I played my part –
Only for Him to heal my foe, and tear
Instead the bounding constructs I hold dear.”
I murmured noncommittally, at heart
Reflecting how unchanged our common fear
That people who are far off, would be brought near.
Carolyn Whitnall, 2018.
I love the book of Jonah. The juxtaposition between the prophet's own experience of mercy and his horror at witnessing that same mercy extended to those he considers enemies is a poignant and pointed bit of story-telling. I see echoes of the same human tendencies in aspects of the early church's struggle to unite Jewish and Gentile believers, so firmly established as outsiders to one another (albeit that the origins and nature of the enmity are very different in each case).
It reminds me of a few other things as well. A general principle of reconciliation – between us and God, and among us – is profoundly embedded and embodied in the good news about Jesus (see, e.g., 2 Cor 5:11-21, Col 1:15-23, Rom 12:9-21, in addition to the above). And yet, how insistent we Christians can be about defending our boundary lines, once we have drawn them; how reluctant to contemplate God's acceptance of those we have piously excluded. Like Jonah, we are affronted by the suggestion that God's judgements might not perfectly align with our own. How immeasurably better for all of us that they don't, though.
[Thumbnail image cc from elpelon on Flickr.]
When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil ways, he relented and did not bring on them the destruction he had threatened. But to Jonah this seemed very wrong, and he became angry. He prayed to the Lord, “Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.” But the Lord replied, “Is it right for you to be angry?” (RAZED
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said – “Too right I’m angry, seething hot;
Far better had He smote me on the spot
Than made me see the staying of His hand.
His mercy stoops to depths I cannot stand:
I’ve fled it like a fugitive, till caught
And swallowed up, digested and spat out;
Reborn into a life I hadn’t planned.
Then, all obedience, I played my part –
Only for Him to heal my foe, and tear
Instead the bounding constructs I hold dear.”
I murmured noncommittally, at heart
Reflecting how unchanged our common fear
That people who are far off, would be brought near.
I love the book of Jonah. The juxtaposition between the prophet's own experience of mercy and his horror at witnessing that same mercy extended to those he considers enemies is a poignant and pointed bit of story-telling. I see echoes of the same human tendencies in aspects of the early church's struggle to unite Jewish and Gentile believers, so firmly established as outsiders to one another (albeit that the origins and nature of the enmity are very different in each case).
"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility..." (Ephesians 2:13-14, ESVUK).There's plenty in Acts and in the letters to clarify that living out this glorious new reality took some working at (Acts 6:1-7, Acts 15, Rom 14, Gal 2:11-14).
It reminds me of a few other things as well. A general principle of reconciliation – between us and God, and among us – is profoundly embedded and embodied in the good news about Jesus (see, e.g., 2 Cor 5:11-21, Col 1:15-23, Rom 12:9-21, in addition to the above). And yet, how insistent we Christians can be about defending our boundary lines, once we have drawn them; how reluctant to contemplate God's acceptance of those we have piously excluded. Like Jonah, we are affronted by the suggestion that God's judgements might not perfectly align with our own. How immeasurably better for all of us that they don't, though.
[Thumbnail image cc from elpelon on Flickr.]
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