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Jonah and Reason

I’ve been studying Jonah in preparation for the men’s core training, and it’s been … interesting, and something that really concerns me (and concerns me about a lot in Christian life.)

Jonah’s been addressed by some of the greatest minds in Jewish culture – one being the Vilna Gaon, the “Genius of Vilna.” He sees Jonah through the mists not only of history, but allegory:

Jonah (“Yona” hereafter) is Hebrew for “dove,” which is a symbol for the spirit or the soul (witness the “like a dove” in Matthew 3:16, descending to say that the Father was well-pleased in the Son, for example). The allegory runs something like this:

Jonah, “the dove,” or the soul – the son of Amitai, “truth” – is sent the message of proclaiming Nineveh – the world – why we are here (repentance, obedience to God.)

Instead of going to Nineveh, into the world, the soul refuses, and descends into a body (the boat). The sea is a symbol also of the world and its desires.

The world tosses the soul to and fro, and the sailors – the body’s actions, or components – are unable to withstand the storm. The body calls to the soul, but the soul is uncaring as to its fate – and Yona says “toss me overboard.”

The soul dies, and is consumed by the fish (symbolizing the grave). Yona is dead for three days (in Judaism, the soul hovers by the body for three days.) The soul calls to God to be close to Him; Yona is then sent back to Eden (i.e., within the Will of God.) He then travels back to the world, proclaiming the message God has given him.

There’re a few sidenotes here.

First, we’re not really addressing the point of Jonah, which for me is chapter 4 and not 1-3 quite so much.

Second, the allegory doesn’t deny the events that took place, but they make the story of the fish a little … ethereal. It’s only a little ethereal because the Vilna Gaon and Rashi both see the fish both rationally (i.e., as allegory) and irrationally (i.e., as history) but the allegorical nature provides an alternative to a miraculous occurrence.

Therein lies my problem. I want to see it rationally. The history is not entirely relevant to me.

What do I mean by this? I mean that I do not say that Jonah could not have been literally swallowed by a dag gadol (dag=fish, gadol=large, giant). But saying that it could have happened is a lot different than saying it did happen.

The Vilna Gaon and Rashi both use allegory to allow the rational mind to see the beauty in the allegory without losing the story of Jonah to myth and miracle, regardless of whether it’s literal history or not; it’s just as miraculous, just as meaningful, even if it did not literally occur in history.

If asked, I could not say with full confidence that I believe that Jonah literally happened as written. In my inmost being, I would say that I do not believe it happened literally – and I would say the same for other similar occurrences (the vision of Ezechiel, for example, would be a vision – given by God, but not a literal happening).

This is part of why I am afraid to serve and teach in church, because I don’t know how to be intellectually honest with myself and a larger group of men, such that I don’t damage their faith through my own lack of it (or my own rationality). I don’t think less of those who see Jonah literally; I just don’t believe the literal occurrence is necessary for it to remain the voice and words of God.

I tell you this because I can’t pretend to be something other than what and who I am; I would rather run the risk of you seeing me as a bit of a heretic or an unbeliever, because then I can learn and understand through contrast.

What about Jesus’ reference to Yona?

Herein is the issue with Yona-as-allegory (i.e., as a story and not history): Jesus referred to it.

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. (Matthew 12:40, ESV)

The problem can be expressed like this: if Yona is allegory, and Jesus referred to it like this, it’s possible that Jesus’ time in the grave was also allegory, which dashes the whole point of Christianity in the first place. No resurrection, no salvation through identification with Christ.

That would indeed be a problem. However, to me, the explanation comes down to reduction.

If we remove elements from a story, at what point does the removal of elements change the point or heart of the story?

There’s no broadly applicable answer for this, honestly. For some people, reading Yona as anything other than history with a meaning behind it would dash their faith upon the rocks.

I don’t think it’s worth that. As a result, I’d never argue for a conclusive result that Yona is allegory. It wouldn’t be provable in any case, but I’d rather cede the argument than hurt someone’s faith, even while I’m being honest about my own perceptions.

Looking at Yona through the eyes of reduction, though, you can remove “history” from it, and it retains its meaning. It’s no less instructive as allegory than it is as history…

… well, perhaps it is, honestly. If Yona actually underwent this kind of journey, there’s an indication of God’s commitment to using an imperfect vessel for enacting His will. But is such an expression necessary? We already have many other examples of similar men being used in similarly miraculous ways.

But using the same method on Jesus, however, and you not only lose something, you lose everything – and none of it has meaning other than being a bunch of pretty stories.

That invalidates that particular reduction, to me.

To someone else, I have to admit that it might be a stepping-stone to a loss of faith altogether. I can’t deny that, but I also can’t deny my faith in the existence and person of God.

If God is real – and to me He definitely is, as evidenced by the shadow He casts over my life and person – then the reduction of Jesus’ resurrection can’t invalidate faith in Him (it’s axiomatic) and therefore the reduction of the resurrection is invalid.

Not so much with Yona; the reduction might remove something (and therefore might be invalid) but this depends very much on the believer in question.

So there you have it: a short walk down the path of my personal conflict between reason and faith. My prayer is that you see it as potentially edifying, rather than destructive; I write only in the spirit of honesty, with full recognition of my own limitations, and long for the truth in all things, even when such truth highlights my own error.

Shalom.
(Originally published January 19, 2012)

savage
December 1, 2012
Bible Study
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Found Wanting

Quick context: a men’s class is studying the book of Jonah.

Our teacher has a really good way of throwing out questions that make us think, in combination with what he teaches.

On the second night, we covered the first three verses of Jonah, where it seems like relatively little happens, but those verses…

Here’s what they contain: God speaks to Jonah, saying to go to Nineveh. Jonah says no, and heads off to Tarshish.

One of the followup questions was “What would you be willing to do to duck His plan for your life?”

Consider Jonah. He’s seen as “the reluctant prophet,” which isn’t exactly true. He wasn’t reluctant at all; he wasn’t afraid at all, at least not as we think of those terms.

On the contrary, really: he had already stood up to the Assyrian Empire (see II Kings 14:25), who were the most barbaric of the eastern Empires. (The Persians, the Babylonians, and the Romans looked at Assyria and said, “See? We’re not that bad. We could have been like them.” Further, the Babylonians were seen as heroes in some ways because they wiped out Assyria.)

Anyway, Jonah wasn’t afraid of the Assyrians as much as one might imagine, because he’d been there and done that already. (Again, II Kings 14:25.)

And reluctance wasn’t a factor either, as much as racism or nationalism. The Book of Jonah says that he was angry that God might extend mercy to even the Ninevim; that’s not the same as being unwilling to serve Him. (Again, Jonah spoke for Israel already.)

Yet he ran from “the presence of the Lord,” when called to go to Nineveh. Not only did he run from doing God’s will, but he literally fled the presence of God as he saw it – even though he would have known God was everywhere.

Nineveh was northeast of Jonah’s home; he ran for a point more than two thousand miles west, across the sea – a great unknown at the time.

Sure, the frying pan wasn’t all that great, but he went from the frying pan into a fire that was much worse – just as long as it wasn’t the frying pan.

So Jonah was willing to do quite a lot to avoid God’s plan, and God mercifully intervened to return Jonah, in such a way that we can benefit from the story of what happened.

I would pray that God would have such mercy on me.

For myself, I can say that I’m no better than Jonah. I might think I’m trying to obey His will, but I know that I’ve been willing and able to do quite a bit to avoid the uncomfortable, including examining myself and my motives enough to know how flawed I am.

I can honestly say that it’s only through the mercy of God that I can see myself even partially for who I really am, a flawed human being who desires greatly to do that which fulfills the will of God even while I yearn for God to not ask too much of me.

I don’t know what anyone else is willing to do, but I ask myself constantly why I’m willing to pour so much effort into doing what I think is most beneficial for me, and why I don’t surrender to His will.

It’s only through His mercy and sacrifice that I’m not found completely wanting.

Shalom.

(Originally published January 18, 2012.)

savage
December 1, 2012
Bible Study
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What did Jonah say to Nineveh?

On Monday nights, my church has a men’s core training class, where a set of men get together to study books of the Bible together. Last semester, we went through the book of James (which ended up with me starting this blog in an attempt to do more as part of a Christian life); this semester, we have the books of Jonah and Nahum as material.

I’ve been thinking about the book of Jonah, since it’s what we’re covering first. One thing jumps out at me: what did Jonah say to Nineveh?

Quick Summary of the Book of Jonah

Nineveh is the capital of the Assyrian Empire, which is a particularly bloody-minded nation. Assyria and Judah were allies (with Judah being an unconquered vassal state); Israel was ground under Assyria’s heel.

Jonah is called by God to “preach against” Nineveh, a city to the northeast of Judah. As an ardent nationalist, Jonah goes straight west across the Mediterranean Sea, to be redirected by God (in the belly of a big fish, as the story goes) back to Nineveh, where he preaches about the doom God will visit upon the city.

Nineveh repents, puts on sackcloth and ashes.

Jonah gets upset that God would have mercy on the Assyrians in any way, and sulks; God addresses him in the last chapter of the book, in a less-remembered but far more substantial statement about God’s character.

So… what did Jonah say?

I’m honestly a little confused. We have a few things to work with:

  • Jonah was called to “preach against” Nineveh, for its wickedness had “come up before” God (Jonah 1:1).
  • Jonah 3:2 says that God told Jonah to “go to the great city of Nineveh and proclaim to it the message I give you.” Yet I haven’t seen what that message was, yet. Chapter 2 is a beautiful prayer to God – but it’s focused on God’s relationship to Jonah, not God’s rejection of Nineveh’s ways.
  • Jonah 3:4 actually gives a message: “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overthrown.” This is all very well and good, and has to be a short form; I can’t imagine that this is all of what God had Jonah say, unless Jonah’s face was shining like the sun to inspire people to listen to him. Even so, being told “this will happen” isn’t exactly corrective in nature…
  • Jonah 3:7-9 records a proclamation by the king:

    Do not let people or animals, herds or flocks, taste anything; do not let them eat or drink. But let people and animals be covered with sackcloth. Let everyone call urgently on God. Let them give up their evil ways and their violence. Who knows? God may yet relent and with compassion turn from his fierce anger so that we will not perish. (NIV)

My feeling is that Jonah went with two core pieces of content: one is that Nineveh was going to be destroyed (Jonah 3:4) and the other is that the city was to call urgently on God, and give up their evil ways and their violence (Jonah 3:8).

But… this still seems lacking.

Jonah was a prophet of Judah. His God would be the God of the Hebrews; his ethics would be based on the laws of Moses. Judaism was for the Jews, not the Gentiles; proselytization was rare and generally discouraged.

Judaism does, however, have the concept of the Noachide laws, seven laws by which non-Jews can be considered righteous. They’re derived from the edicts God gave to “the children of Noach” (i.e., all of mankind) and prescribe a general moral ethic:

  • Prohibition of idolatry
  • Prohibition of murder
  • Prohibition of theft
  • Prohibition of sexual immorality
  • Prohibition of blasphemy
  • Prohibition of eating flesh taken from an animal while it is still alive
  • Establishment of courts of law

(The legalist in me wants to know the specific definitions of idolatry, immorality, blasphemy, et al – because I don’t know what is specifically considered immoral vs. moral behavior taken as specific characteristics, without an objective definition.)

Nineveh would have certainly violated many of these: theft, murder, idolatry, blasphemy, probably sexual immorality. I have no honest idea about the flesh from living animals in Assyria, and courts of law would have been established.

Maybe the flesh from living animals was another violation of the Noachide laws; after all, the city was told not to eat or drink. This seems like a bit of a stretch to me, but I don’t know.

So my feeling, after giving it some thought, is this:

Jonah told Nineveh that it would be destroyed, but that God might spare it if it repented of its sin according to the Noachide laws. (Remember: Hebrew laws of piety wouldn’t have applied.) Through God’s mercy and power, Nineveh listened and saw its doom on the horizon, and listened – for the short term.

(The book of Jonah ends well for Nineveh; however, it didn’t last. A few years later, Nineveh was scraped out like a gourd, as recorded by Nahum and others… to the point where archeologists are still hoping they’ve found Nineveh.)

Is this a “grand thought,” to figure out what Jonah spoke to Nineveh? Um…. not really. But one of the blessings of Christianity is that its message of salvation is for all the world, and not restricted to a nation chosen by God; the message is similar for everyone, such that it can be clearly and unambiguously proclaimed.

Shalom.

(Originally published January 12, 2012.)

savage
December 1, 2012
General
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Something’s been bothering me from my word study

Something about my word study on Philippians 4:19 has been bothering me for a few days.

I referred to the Greek word plouton (or more accurately, ploutos, πλοῦτος, both translated typically as “riches” or “wealth”), and made an association to Pluto and Ploutos, the Roman and Greek gods of wealth.

The cultural shift in the reference to Pluto as an association to a Greek word – has been a gadfly for me.

Was I incorrect in making the association at all? Wouldn’t Ploutos – the Greek reference, not the Roman – be the right reference to use?

Well, maybe… but probably not.

I think of two “ages” in culture from the Hellenistic era in Roman antiquity: a time when Greek culture ruled from Greece, and then the time when Greek culture ruled from Rome.

The Romans took Greek mythology and translated it, occasionally importing names directly but usually equating Greek gods to generally Roman equivalents. Therefore, Zeus became Jupiter, Hera became Juno, Heracles (the son of Zeus, named “Heracles” to mollify the endlessly jealous Hera) became Hercules, Odysseus became Ulysses, etc. etc. etc.

The Greek Hades became the Roman Pluto.

Pluto sounds roughly like ploutos does, and one aspect of Pluto was that he was the god of wealth in addition to the lord of the realm of death. (Mythological tradition around his exact role is horribly confused; generally it depends on what source you pull from and in which era, because his role and identity shifted quite remarkably over time.)

Why, though, would I think a sentence in Greek would have a reference to the Roman god of wealth?

Well… because it probably did. Paul was writing in a time that was not Greek, but definitely Roman; Greek was simply the lingua franca, the language of commerce and culture at the time.

Paul wouldn’t have cared about the names of the Greek gods when writing to a Roman audience (an audience under Roman authority) in Greek. He would have used references and associations that made sense for the time and audience. (Even the writer of the book of Hebrews used Greek, despite writing to a distinctly Hebraic audience.)

So my thought is this: while I still dislike the reference to Pluto, a Roman name for a Greek god, as an associated word to plouton, a purely Greek word referring to riches, the etymology of the name “Pluto” validates the reference – Pluto is a Romanization of the original Greek word, and therefore is less Roman than Greek in the first place.

My concerns over an invalid association are not as valid as I feared.

Incidentally, the study of Pluto is a fascinating exercise in and of itself. Apparently the Roman equivalent was Dis pater and Orcus, and Pluto was used because it was a positive reference to the god, as opposed to one that caused fear (as “Hades” did as well). The poor mythological guy – he never really seems to have been understood.

(Originally published January 31, 2012.)

savage
December 1, 2012
Bible Study
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