As I’ve mentioned before, I recently held the rather weak conviction that Jonah might have been allegorical rather than historical. That weak conviction has been altered; I’m now weakly convicted that it is historical and not allegorical.

One of the reasons I’ve been thinking about it is the choice of Jonah in the first place.

Jonah is a book about God’s acceptance and desire for piety from all people; Jonah, the eponymous prophet of the book, is an ardent nationalist who has no problems with Noachides but rejects God’s call to carry His message to the Assyrians, who – despite their cruelty and opposition to Israel – are still valuable to Him.

After God calls Jonah, Jonah runs directly away from God’s will (he’s called to go northeast, so Jonah runs directly west) and into the belly of a “great fish” (דג גדול), which deposits him back on dry land after three days. Jonah then goes to Nineveh, “that great city,” and tells the Assyrians that they have forty days – and they repent. Jonah then pouts, and despairs that a plant that gave him shelter was withered by a worm – and God scolds him, saying “You cared about this plant, which you had nothing to do with, but did not care about those people that I created.”

So my thought was: why couldn’t God just look at Jonah running away, and choose someone else to be blessed to be His prophet? Why reward Jonah – if it’s a reward to be known as Jonah is known – when Jonah chose to oppose God?

To me, God chose Jonah the way He did because if He didn’t, the message would have been much weaker. The illustration offered by Jonah’s journey wouldn’t be as powerful if God hadn’t committed to using Jonah to put into motion His will for Nineveh (which, incidentally, got absolutely crushed by Babylon years later… to the point where its mere location was in question.)

God wasn’t just speaking to the Assyrians, the way I understand it; God was speaking to us. If God chose a more convenient route (“Oh, Jonah went thataway when I wanted him to go thisaway, I’ll just choose someone else or abandon the Assyrians”) then we wouldn’t have had the illustration of God showing how He values everyone.

And God does value everyone. Remember, He called Jonah to call to the Assryians, who were the ones who crushed Israel out of existence (and Judah survived only as a vassal nation.) These were enemies of the chosen nation (and enemies of pretty much everyone, really.) Jonah was being told to help the enemies of the entire free world, because God valued them.

So why historical and not allegorical?

It’s not a simple question to answer, sadly. I think it has more to do with the history of Israel, intertwined with what we know of Assyria. I guess it has to do with how I see God looking at Israel – the northern kingdom, not necessarily the modern nation – and how God saw their evil ways and loved them enough to let them wander and return, wander and return.

I see a parallel in Jonah for the Assyrians: God values them and calls to them as well. The parallels are very strong, although not perfect – the lack of perfection is a hint of authenticity.

I don’t know that I can say for sure that I think it’s historical. I don’t see why it could not be – if God is omnipotent, then there’s nothing preventing it from being historical whatsoever. And there are enough references in it to God’s mercy and love for all mankind that make me think that maybe there’s more to it than useful myth.

(Originally published on January 31, 2012)

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.)