Jesus, Jonah, and Culture Wars

In June 2011, lobster diver Michael Packard was briefly swallowed by a humpback whale off the coast of Cape Cod. A year ago, off the coast of Chile, another humpback whale briefly swallowed a kayaker. And, while wanting to be as sensitive as possible to the trauma both men had endured, preachers everywhere cried “Hallelujah! See, it can happen!” Now, of course, each man was inside the whale for probably 30 or 45 seconds. Nonetheless…

The book of Jonah does not merely matter for the Old Testament, but Jesus makes it matter for the New:

Then some of the scribes and Pharisees answered him, saying, “Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.” But he answered them, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here. The queen of the South will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and behold, something greater than Solomon is here.” (Matthew 12:38–42)

What is the sign of Jonah? The easy connection, of course, with which Jesus begins, is the number three. “For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”

Of course, even this connection is not as easy as it first seems. After all, if Jesus died on Good Friday and rose on Easter Sunday morning, then we can make a case for three days, but only two nights. Some therefore propose that Jesus actually died on Thursday, but that answer only creates other problems with the biblical text, as Mark notes that “it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath” (Mark 15:42), necessitating the hasty burial of Jesus and the return after the Sabbath to more properly prepare Jesus’ body for burial. The more common answer is therefore an appeal to ancient Jewish timekeeping, an approach that reckoned any part of a day/night cycle as a “day and a night.” Depending on the charity of one’s audience, that response may receive a more or less positive reaction, though Esther 4:15–5:1 and 1 Samuel 30:1–12 seemingly provide support to this appeal.

Whatever the response to the Matthean detail of three nights, the parallel account in the Gospel of Luke suggests the main emphasis of the sign of Jonah lies elsewhere, not in timekeeping, a more incidental detail, but in a deeper parallel between Jesus and Jonah, a more thorough and richer thematic connection:

When the crowds were increasing, he began to say, “This generation is an evil generation. It seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah. For as Jonah became a sign to the people of Nineveh, so will the Son of Man be to this generation. The queen of the South will rise up at the judgment with the men of this generation and condemn them, for she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and behold, something greater than Solomon is here. The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here.” (Luke 11:29–32)

Jesus does, then, connect his time in the grave to Jonah’s in the belly in the fish, but the deeper connection is that of the Ninevites and Jesus’ own audience, the scribes and the Pharisees, and in making that connection, Jesus ties into the main theme of the book of Jonah, that the pagans outshine God’s people, Israel.

The book of Jonah stands practically unique in the biblical canon. Instead of lauding God’s prophet, as most prophetic books do, the book of Jonah mocks him, particularly by comparison with the pagans he scorns.

Beginning in its very first chapter, the book of Jonah shows pagans as more godly than God’s own prophet Jonah. 2 Kings 14 shows that Jonah was a prophet during the reign of Jeroboam II, the eighth-century Israelite king. Yet, at least for the purposes of this book, God surprised Jonah with an additional call, to Nineveh, the capital of the violent and bloodthirsty imperial nation of Assyria: “Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, ‘Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me.’” (Jonah 1:1–2).

Jonah reacts to that call badly: “But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord. He went down to Joppa and found a ship going to Tarshish. So, he paid the fare and went down into it, to go with them to Tarshish, away from the presence of the Lord” (Jonah 1:3). Assyria lies to the north and east of Israel, a land journey, Tarshish to the south and west, a journey by sea across the Mediterranean. In other words, Jonah runs exactly the opposite way when confronted with this call.

Finding a ship, he pays the fare, tells the sailors he is running away from the presence of the Lord his God, and promptly goes down into the hold and goes to sleep. Then God sends a great storm, one that threatens to sink the ship. While every other man on board calls out in prayer to his god, Jonah—who knows the true God—simply sleeps, refusing to call on the Lord. Finally, the pagan sailors engage in divination by casting lots, trying to determine who had offended a god and brought the storm. The lot falls on Jonah, who admits he has caused the storm, thereby endangering each of their lives and costing them the cargo, which they had already thrown overboard. He confesses that the only way to stop the storm is to abandon him to the sea, throwing him overboard to die for his sin.

The sailors, their lives recklessly endangered by Jonah, would have every reason to toss him in the sea, even somewhat justifiably. And yet, they do not. Instead, they attempt to row to land (v. 13), granting Jonah grace he had denied them. When the sea opposes them even more, they finally relent and throw him in, stilling the storm. In awe, they pray to the Lord (v.14), fear the Lord (v.16), make a sacrifice to him (v.16), and make vows (v.16). Who should have been doing all these things? Jonah. The reader does not need to believe these pagans have suddenly become Yahwists to recognize that they are clearly more moral and more attuned to the Lord than Jonah, his prophet. How ironic.

Then begins the story everyone associates with the name Jonah: “And the Lord appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah, and Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights. Chapter 2, which follows, reports Jonah’s prayer from the belly of the fish, a prayer of thanksgiving for salvation, as the fish has saved Jonah from the certain death of drowning:

“I called out to the Lord, out of my distress,
     and he answered me;
out of the belly of Sheol I cried,
     and you heard my voice.
      For you cast me into the deep,
     into the heart of the seas,
     and the flood surrounded me;
all your breakers and your waves
     passed over me.
Then I said, ‘I am driven away
     from your sight;
yet I shall again look
     upon your holy temple.’
The waters closed in over me to take my life;
     the deep surrounded me;
weeds were wrapped about my head.
     To the roots of the mountains I went down,
to the land whose bars closed upon me forever.
Yet you brought up my life from the pit,
     O Lord my God.
When my life was fainting away,
     I remembered the Lord,
and my prayer came to you,
     into your holy temple.
Those who pay regard to vain idols
     forsake their hope of steadfast love.
But I with the voice of thanksgiving
     will sacrifice to you;
what I have vowed I will pay.
     Salvation belongs to the Lord!”
                         Jonah 2:2–9

This poem, both by its form as poetry and by its wording, leaves Jonah’s mental state ambiguous. Is this genuine repentance Jonah having learned his lesson? Or does self-righteousness remain? Verses 8–9 could be read either way, as a genuine confession or as Jonah still looking down on pagan idolaters, now willing to do what he has vowed: to go speak God’s words, in this case, a prophecy of judgment, calling out against Nineveh:

Those who pay regard to vain idols
     forsake their hope of steadfast love.
But I with the voice of thanksgiving
     will sacrifice to you;
what I have vowed I will pay.
     Salvation belongs to the Lord!”
                         Jonah 2:8–9

Whatever Jonah’s mental state, God decides that the poor fish has probably had enough and commands it to spit Jonah onto dry land (v.10). It obeys, and both Jonah and the fish probably declare, “I’m glad that’s over,” at which point, God says, “Let’s try this again, Jonah.” Chapter 3 begins with the intentional echo of chapter 1: “Then the word of the Lord came to Jonah the second time, saying, ‘Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it the message that I tell you.’” (Jonah 3:1–2)

The second time, Jonah obeys God’s call. But it is a long way to Nineveh, and Jonah either nurses his grudge or backslides from his newfound repentance. Over 550 or so miles (885 KM), at least a 15-day journey, Jonah has time to think about not just his experience in the sea, but his hatred of the Assyrians. By the time he arrives, he becomes the worst missionary ever, preaching a one-line sermon with no illustrations, only judgment, no grace, and hatred of the people to whom he is sent: “Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!”

Then, much to Jonah’s horror, the Ninevites repent, a repentance that seems unquestionably sincere, one that crosses from king, to noble, to commoner, one accompanied by mourning rituals and a determination to turn from evil. Even more to Jonah’s horror, God accepts that repentance, turning aside the disaster of which he had warned.

Chapter 4 then drops the bombshell: Jonah dislikes this result, not just somewhat, but he becomes exceedingly angry! Do not forget whose action makes Jonah angry: God’s. In fact, Jonah throws a tantrum, telling God off, explaining that he fled towards Tarshish for this very reason, because he knew God would have mercy on the Ninevites if they repented. In other words, Jonah fled because he did not want God to be merciful, because he did not want God to save “those sinners.” Jonah’s heart was one that self-righteously wanted judgment and death for those others, a prophet whose heart was wildly out of sync with his God’s.

God, then, arranges an object lesson to drive his point home to this petulant prophet. Jonah storms up to a ridge overlooking Nineveh, not a smart place to camp out in the Ancient Near Eastern sun. God sends a vine to grow up, adding shade to Jonah, to save him (v.6) just as God had previously sent the fish to save him. And Jonah loves his vine.

The next day, therefore, God finishes the lesson. He sends a worm that chews the vine and kills it, then a scorching east wind that leaves Jonah desiccated and close to death. Before long, the heat begins to take its inexorable toll, and Jonah heads towards the second time he might die—not this time by drowning, but by heatstroke. Jonah declares his anger now at God, that God would let the plant die, and God finishes his rhetorical trap:

But God said to Jonah, “Do you do well to be angry for the plant?” And he said, “Yes, I do well to be angry, angry enough to die.” And the Lord said, “You pity the plant, for which you did not labor, nor did you make it grow, which came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?” (Jonah 4:9–11)

Amazingly, the book leaves the question hanging: what did Jonah do? The reader never knows. Throughout the book, Jonah has been out of sync with God, and the pagans—the sailors and the Ninevites—have been more in sync with God. And this is a picture throughout much of Israel’s history, that pagan nations show her up, living more ethically than she herself does.

The book leaves the question hanging: does Jonah repent? We never know. Because this book really is not about Jonah, but instead asks a question to a later audience. The book of Jonah is not written to convince the prophet himself of anything, but instead to ask whether later Israel will adopt his attitude. Did they want the salvation and blessing of the nations, or did they simply want them to be judged? Did they have God’s heart for mercy, or just their own heart for those others to “get theirs?” We as readers never get the answer to the question “What did Jonah do?” because the book was written to ask later readers, Israel, “What would you do?”

And Jesus then makes this a question to the scribes and Pharisees: do you have Jonah’s attitude towards the nations? Or do you want grace? The Ninevites had known to repent when confronted with the kingdom of God. It was God’s own person, the prophet Jonah, who couldn’t. The queen of Sheba had come from far away to hear the wisdom of Israel’s king Solomon, but the scribes and Pharisees had the greater son of David, not Solomon but Jesus himself, the true king of Israel to whom every other king only pointed. And yet the scribes and Pharisees came not to listen, but to try to trap and belittle.

Matthew 12 is directed to unbelieving Israelite Pharisees who were missing God’s heart. To those scribes and Pharisees, Jesus said beware. Beware that the “sinners” you scorn are actually closer to God’s heart than you are. Beware that the tax collectors and prostitutes who know how to repent are welcomed into your house while you stand outside, with your own self-righteousness blinding you to the fact that you have missed your need for grace. Beware a heart that scorns those you think wrong and immoral, as they will outshine you.

Later in the New Testament, this would continue even more strongly, as those despised Gentile dogs would come streaming into the kingdom of God, acknowledging Jesus as their king, their Lord and savior, while much of Israel would stand by, rejecting their king. This flood of Gentile converts should make Israel jealous (Romans 9:11). Even Ninevites repented at the word of God via the prophet, but the scribes and Pharisees would not repent even at the son of God with them, the word of God incarnate.

Would Israel be able to celebrate God’s grace, or were they to be consumed by hate toward those “others?” God’s own people, who should be closest to his will, would be shamed by others who saw and repented, even those pagan Gentiles.

And this, of course, raises the question for the church today. Under the influence of culture wars and the modern political process, many in the church instinctively reject positions that are obviously biblical. The word “justice,” for instance, is quite clearly a biblical word, one used repeatedly. And the contexts within which it is used include not simply a legal system but also economic and social practices, e.g., the entire book of Amos and really the entire prophetic corpus of the Old Testament. The innate dignity of all men, women, and children as individuals made in the image of God is an unquestionable biblical doctrine. Dialog that is kind, good, faithful, gentle, and self-controlled is simply the basic fruit of the spirit. “Love your enemies” is not an optional command.

And yet, many in the church recoil the moment they hear such words, seemingly instinctively viewing them as things to be opposed or ignored in the service of “winning” against those outside the church. We dare not reject these biblical imperatives simply because people outside the church use the same words, whether they mis-define them or not. Instead, we must define these terms biblically and then let them define us. Otherwise, the men of Nineveh—or the non-Christians of our day—may rise up to condemn us in the judgment. After all, Jesus demands that our righteousness be more than that of the scribes and the Pharisees, not less.