Jonah Study Guide
Jonah Study Guide
Jonah
The
Man
Who
Ran
and
the
God
Who
Ran
After
Him
SMALL
GROUPS
STUDY
GUIDE
CONTENTS
Introduction
to
the
book
of
Jonah
Week
One
|
Jonah
1.1-‐3
Week
Two
|
Jonah
1.4-‐17
Week
Three
|
Jonah
2.1-‐10
Week
Four
|
Jonah
3.1-‐10
Week
Five
|
Jonah
4.1-‐11
All
Scripture
quotations,
unless
otherwise
indicated,
are
taken
from
the
Holy
Bible,
Today’s
New
International
VersionTM.
TNIV
®.
Copyright
©
2001,
2005
by
Biblica,
Inc.TM
Used
by
permission
of
Zondervan.
All
rights
reserved
worldwide.
Introduction
to
the
book
of
Jonah
taken
from
the
Starting
Point
Bible
©
2008
by
IBS
and
North
Point
Ministries.
Compiled
by
New
Denver
Church
Adapted
from
Mars
Hill
Bible
Church
©
2010
|
Special
thanks
to
them.
Introduction
to
the
book
of
Jonah
Included
for
background
The
book
of
Jonah
relates
how
the
“word
of
the
LORD”
came
to
Jonah,
a
Hebrew
prophet
who
lived
during
the
reign
of
King
Jeroboam
II
of
Israel
(793–753
BC).
The
LORD
told
Jonah
to
go
to
the
foreign
city
of
Nineveh
and
call
its
people
to
repentance.
This
city
was
the
capital
of
the
Assyrian
empire,
which
would
soon
threaten
the
very
existence
of
Jonah’s
nation.
For
this
reason,
he
was
much
more
inclined
to
see
it
destroyed
because
of
its
wickedness
than
to
help
it
be
spared.
So
Jonah
boarded
a
ship
and
fled
in
the
opposite
direction.
God
sent
a
storm
to
intercept
him,
and
this
put
the
ship’s
entire
crew
in
danger.
Jonah
was
forced
to
admit
to
everyone
on
the
boat,
“It
is
my
fault
that
this
great
storm
has
come
upon
you.”
He
told
the
crew
to
throw
him
into
the
sea,
and
when
they
reluctantly
did,
the
storm
stopped.
When
the
sailors
saw
this
miracle,
they
worshipped
the
true
God.
The
book
says
that
God
“provided”
a
great
fish
to
swallow
Jonah,
and
that
when
the
prophet
realized
that
inside
the
fish
he
was
at
least
safe
from
drowning,
he
thanked
God.
It’s
unclear
though
if
Jonah’s
heart
had
really
changed.
After
three
days,
the
fish
spit
him
up
onto
dry
land.
At
this
point,
the
story
seems
to
start
again.
It
tells
how
the
“word
of
the
LORD”
came
to
Jonah
a
second
time,
and
how
he
took
another
journey,
this
one
toward
Nineveh
instead
of
away
from
it.
The
book
relates
that
when
he
announced
God
was
about
to
overthrow
the
city,
the
people
turned
to
God.
The
danger
passed,
as
God
showed
compassion
on
the
repentant
Ninevites.
And
once
again,
Jonah
addressed
himself
to
God,
this
time
not
in
thanksgiving,
but
in
complaint.
He
resented
having
played
a
role
in
preserving
a
nation
that
could
destroy
his
own.
The
book
says
that
God
provided
a
vine
to
shelter
Jonah
from
the
sun,
then
provided
a
worm
to
kill
the
vine,
and
then
provided
a
scorching
wind
to
intensify
the
heat.
When
Jonah
complained
how
distressed
he
was
over
the
loss
of
the
vine,
God
asked
whether
he
himself
was
not
justified
in
being
distressed
over
the
potential
destruction
of
a
great
city
and
all
its
inhabitants.
The
book
ends
with
that
question.
It
is
not
known
when
the
book
of
Jonah
was
written
or
who
wrote
it.
Tradition
ascribes
authorship
to
Jonah,
but
because
the
book
portrays
him
negatively,
it’s
possible
that
someone
else
wrote
the
account
at
a
later
time.
If
so,
the
narrator
may
be
attempting
to
speak
to
the
situation
of
a
later
generation
of
Israelites
who
have
become
exclusive
in
their
understanding
of
God’s
grace.
In
the
book,
Jonah
seems
to
represent
the
attitude
that
many
of
the
people
of
Israel
had
at
various
times
toward
other
nations.
Instead
of
recognizing
their
mission
to
help
these
nations
come
to
know
the
true
God,
they
considered
them
their
enemies
and
expected
God
to
destroy
them.
So
God’s
final
question
to
Jonah
is
also
being
posed
to
the
nation
of
Israel
at
large
or
to
any
readers
of
this
book
who
may
have
this
attitude.
We
do
not
need
to
know
when
the
book
was
actually
written
in
order
to
appreciate
its
message.
The
people
of
God
in
all
places
and
times
have
a
special
mission
to
help
others
come
to
know
the
true
God
and
his
grace.
They
should
not
see
those
outside
the
community
of
faith
as
their
enemies
and
expect
God
to
trample
them
down
before
them.
Instead,
they
should
rejoice
in—and
certainly
not
resent—the
fact
that
they
serve
“a
gracious
and
compassionate
God,
slow
to
anger
and
abounding
in
love,
a
God
who
relents
from
sending
calamity.”
1
Week
One
|
Jonah
1.1-‐3
The
word
of
the
LORD
came
to
Jonah
son
of
Amittai:
“Go
to
the
great
city
Nineveh
and
preach
against
it,
because
its
wickedness
has
come
up
before
me.”
But
Jonah
ran
away
from
the
LORD
and
headed
for
Tarshish.
He
went
down
to
Joppa,
where
he
found
a
ship
bound
for
that
port.
After
paying
the
fare,
he
went
aboard
and
sailed
for
Tarshish
to
flee
from
the
LORD.
[Read
the
following
either
out
loud
or
silently
and
discuss
the
questions
as
a
group.]
One
night,
as
I’m
settling
down
to
read
my
three-‐year-‐old
daughter
stories
before
bed,
she
asks
me
to
read
from
a
book
of
children’s
Bible
stories
that
her
grandmother
has
recently
given
her.
I
open
the
book
to
a
random
story:
David
and
Goliath.
Like
most
children’s
books,
there
are
enthusiastic
and
colorful
pictures
of
all
the
characters—so
for
this
story,
a
giant
angry
man
stands
ready
to
tear
a
puny
little
David
limb
by
limb.
I
figure
being
pummeled
by
a
giant
might
not
be
the
best
image
to
send
her
to
sleep
with,
so
I
flip
to
the
next
story:
Daniel
in
the
lion’s
den.
Naturally,
there
are
several
ravenous
lions,
mouths
agape,
saliva
dripping
from
their
fangs,
looking
with
hunger
to
the
corner
where
Daniel
is
soiling
himself
out
of
fear.
That
doesn’t
seem
quite
right
either,
so
I
turn
the
pages
to
another
story:
Shadrach,
Meshach,
and
Abednego
in
the
fiery
furnace.
Hmm.
Why
is
it
that
certain
biblical
stories
endure
in
our
faith
primarily
as
children’s
stories?
Frederick
Buechner
offers
us
an
interesting
perspective
in
his
book
The
Hungering
Dark:
“Not,
I
suspect,
because
children
particularly
want
to
read
them,
but
more
because
their
elders
particularly
do
not
want
to
read
them
or
at
least
do
not
want
to
read
them
for
what
they
actually
say
and
so
make
them
instead
into
fairy
tales,
which
no
one
has
to
take
seriously.
But
for
all
our
stratagems,
the
legends,
the
myths
continue
to
embody
truths
or
intuitions
which
in
the
long
run
it
is
perhaps
more
dangerous
to
evade
than
to
confront.”
Another
possibility
is
that
we
give
them
to
children
because
these
stories
ask
us
to
believe
the
impossible.
We’re
much
too
hardened
by
reality
for
these
kinds
of
stories;
life
teaches
us
early
that
the
little
guy
rarely
wins,
that
hungry
animals
bite,
and
that
if
you
play
with
fire
you
usually
get
burned.
But
maybe
children
are
the
keepers
of
these
stories
because
they
are
the
only
ones
with
an
imagination
capable
of
handling
the
truth—for
God,
even
the
impossible
is
possible.
And
God
is
looking
for
people
who
will
partner
with
him
in
making
the
impossible
possible.
2
As
for
Jonah,
nothing
could
be
more
impossible
than
being
sent
to
Nineveh.
Jonah
is
a
Hebrew
prophet,
an
Israelite;
Nineveh
is
the
capital
of
Assyria—a
powerful
neighboring
nation
with
a
long
history
of
brutality,
war
and
conquest.
In
fact,
in
722
BC
Assyria
crushed
the
Northern
Kingdom
of
Israel,
sending
its
people
into
exile
and
wiping
it
off
the
map
forever.
The
Assyrians
are
the
enemy.
They
are
the
very
ones
threatening
God’s
people.
Nineveh
is
a
dark,
wicked
place.
Yet
God
tells
Jonah,
“Arise,
go
to
Nineveh
the
great
city
and
cry
out
against
it,
for
their
wickedness
has
come
up
before
me.”
[v.
2,
NASB]
In
Hebrew,
however,
this
passage
can
be
translated
differently.
“Arise,
go
to
Nineveh
the
great
city
and
cry
out
concerning
it,
for
its
wickedness
has
come
up
before
my
face.”
God
isn’t
just
sending
Jonah
to
cry
out
against
Nineveh.
God
is
sending
Jonah
to
cry
out
concerning
Nineveh.
God
looks
to
Nineveh,
the
dark,
wicked
city,
and
is
concerned.
For
God
to
send
Jonah
to
Nineveh
would
be
like
God
telling
a
present
day
Jewish
rabbi,
“Go
to
Tehran
the
great
city,
and
cry
out
concerning
it.”
Or
to
a
South
Korean
pastor,
“Go
to
Pyongyang
the
great
city,
and
cry
out
concerning
it.”
This
seems
like
an
unthinkable
task
to
Jonah,
requiring
him
to
believe
that
God’s
love
extends
even
to
the
enemy.
God
is
concerned
about
what
happens
in
the
darkest
corners
of
the
earth,
and
he
sends
his
people
to
be
a
presence
in
those
dark
places.
Immediately,
without
hesitation,
Jonah
arises
as
he
has
been
commanded.
But
he
doesn’t
go
to
Nineveh.
Instead
he
takes
off
for
the
Mediterranean
coast
to
catch
the
first
ship
headed
to
Tarshish.
Nineveh
is
located
in
present
day
Iraq.
Tarshish
is
in
southern
Spain,
at
the
other
end
of
Jonah’s
world.
The
journey
by
ship
would
take
almost
a
year
and
would
have
been
extremely
expensive
and
very
dangerous.
Not
only
is
Tarshish
about
as
far
as
Jonah
can
get
from
Nineveh,
but
in
the
ancient
world,
people
thought
of
Tarshish
like
we
think
of
Tahiti
or
Hawaii.
It
is
an
escape,
and
it
seems
there
is
no
price
that
Jonah
isn’t
willing
to
pay
to
escape.
Most
of
us
know
the
way
to
Tarshish.
Like
Jonah,
we’ve
paid
the
fare
at
one
point
or
another.
The
escape
to
Tarshish
for
some
people
takes
the
form
of
shopping,
where
the
temporary
fascination
with
something
new
takes
your
mind
off
of
Nineveh.
For
others
there
is
the
workplace—going
to
work
or
bringing
work
home
keeps
them
from
3
having
to
ever
really
be
home.
Others
retreat
inside;
they
escape
by
isolating
themselves
from
everyone
around
them,
keeping
everyone
at
arm’s
length.
Some
fill
their
lives
with
busyness
to
ignore
their
inner
dissatisfaction
with
life;
some
escape
in
pornography,
a
sense
of
intimacy
without
any
strings.
Tarshish
is
all
around
us,
and
we
go
there
often.
But
the
truth,
Eugene
Peterson
says,
is
simply
this:
“Tarshish
is
a
lie”.
The
release,
the
distraction,
the
satisfaction
of
escape
is
only
a
temporary
and
fleeting
fix.
You
can
only
run
for
so
long
before
you
realize
that
life
on
this
side
of
the
fence
is
quickly
becoming
just
like
life
was
back
on
that
side.
The
common
denominator,
of
course,
is
you.
Your
own
heart.
As
the
saying
goes,
wherever
you
go,
there
you
are.
The
world
doesn’t
need
people
who
are
good
at
jumping
fences.
It
needs
people
who
go
to
Nineveh.
God
is
inviting
us
to
embrace
the
darkness,
the
broken
cracks
and
crevices
of
the
world.
It’s
there
that
we
find
him.
Those
places
come
up
before
God’s
face,
and
he
is
concerned.
God
wants
to
meet
you
in
Nineveh,
and
in
that
seemingly
impossible
place,
he
wants
to
change
everything.
Why
do
we
run?
Jonah
isn’t
the
first
prophet
to
be
on
the
run.
Moses
did
some
running
of
his
own.
Moses
had
murdered
an
Egyptian,
and
when
it
becomes
known,
he
flees
to
the
wilderness.
Moses
ran
from
his
past.
Elijah
did
some
running
too.
He
flees
to
the
wilderness
after
defeating
the
prophets
of
Baal,
afraid
because
Queen
Jezebel
wants
him
dead.
Elijah
ran
out
of
fear.
But
Jonah’s
running
was
different.
The
Hebrew
phrase
used
to
describe
Jonah’s
running
is
mi
lifnei.
It
suggests
a
rupture
of
contact,
a
turning
of
one’s
back.
It
means
flat
out
rebellion.
In
fact,
the
same
phrase
is
used
to
describe
Cain’s
departure
from
the
Garden
of
Eden
in
Genesis
4.16,
“So
Cain
went
out
of
the
LORD’s
presence
and
settled
in
the
land
of
Nod,
East
of
Eden.”
Notice
how
Jonah
1.2
repeats
the
phrase
“away
from
the
presence
of
the
LORD”
twice.
Whenever
biblical
writers,
especially
Hebrew
writers,
want
you
to
get
the
point,
they
repeat
words
or
phrases
multiple
times.
Jonah
runs
because
he
thinks
he
knows
better
than
God
about
how
the
world
ought
to
work.
As
far
as
Jonah
is
concerned,
“those
people”
in
Nineveh
don’t
deserve
a
warning.
The
only
thing
God
ought
to
be
concerned
about
for
Nineveh
is
destroying
them
once
and
for
all.
In
a
way,
Jonah’s
running
is
about
control.
Jonah
escapes
to
Tarshish
under
the
illusion
that
he
can
somehow
control
God,
or
at
the
very
least
thwart
what
it
is
that
God
wants
to
do.
So
as
Jonah
settles
in
for
the
long
journey
to
Tarshish,
he
appears
to
have
everything
under
control.
His
plan
is
working,
but
there
are
clouds
in
the
distance.
4
Week
Two
|
Jonah
1.4-‐17
Then
the
LORD
sent
a
great
wind
on
the
sea,
and
such
a
violent
storm
arose
that
the
ship
threatened
to
break
up.
All
the
sailors
were
afraid
and
each
cried
out
to
his
own
god.
And
they
threw
the
cargo
into
the
sea
to
lighten
the
ship.
But
Jonah
had
gone
below
deck,
where
he
lay
down
and
fell
into
a
deep
sleep.
The
captain
went
to
him
and
said,
“How
can
you
sleep?
Get
up
and
call
on
your
god!
Maybe
he
will
take
notice
of
us
so
that
we
will
not
perish.”
Then
the
sailors
said
to
each
other,
“Come,
let
us
cast
lots
to
find
out
who
is
responsible
for
this
calamity.”
They
cast
lots
and
the
lot
fell
on
Jonah.
So
they
asked
him,
“Tell
us,
who
is
responsible
for
making
all
this
trouble
for
us?
What
kind
of
work
do
you
do?
Where
do
you
come
from?
What
is
your
country?
From
what
people
are
you?”
He
answered,
“I
am
a
Hebrew
and
I
worship
the
LORD,
the
God
of
heaven,
who
made
the
sea
and
the
dry
land.”
This
terrified
them
and
they
asked,
“What
have
you
done?”
(They
knew
he
was
running
away
from
the
LORD,
because
he
had
already
told
them
so.)
The
sea
was
getting
rougher
and
rougher.
So
they
asked
him,
“What
should
we
do
to
you
to
make
the
sea
calm
down
for
us?”
“Pick
me
up
and
throw
me
into
the
sea,”
he
replied,
“and
it
will
become
calm.
I
know
that
it
is
my
fault
that
this
great
storm
has
come
upon
you.”
Instead,
the
men
did
their
best
to
row
back
to
land.
But
they
could
not,
for
the
sea
grew
even
wilder
than
before.
Then
they
cried
out
to
the
LORD,
“Please,
LORD,
do
not
let
us
die
for
taking
this
man’s
life.
Do
not
hold
us
accountable
for
killing
an
innocent
man,
for
you,
LORD,
have
done
as
you
pleased.”
Then
they
took
Jonah
and
threw
him
overboard,
and
the
raging
sea
grew
calm.
At
this
the
men
greatly
feared
the
LORD,
and
they
offered
a
sacrifice
to
the
LORD
and
made
vows
to
him.
Now
the
LORD
provided
a
huge
fish
to
swallow
Jonah,
and
Jonah
was
in
the
belly
of
the
fish
three
days
and
three
nights.
[Read
the
following
either
out
loud
or
silently
and
discuss
the
questions
as
a
group.]
Prophets
led
peculiar
lives.
They
cried
out
against
injustice,
wrongdoing
and
evil.
They
regularly
reminded
Israel
of
the
ways
in
which
it
was
failing
to
be
the
nation
that
God
had
called
it
to
be.
And
prophets
weren’t
afraid
to
name
names.
Consequently,
they
were
usually
at
odds
with
the
people
of
Israel,
especially
those
in
positions
of
power
and
authority.
The
Israelites
didn’t
appreciate
being
disrupted
by
the
truth
that
God’s
dream
for
the
world
was
vastly
different
from
their
own.
In
fact,
they
just
wanted
prophets
who
would
tell
them
what
they
wanted
to
hear:
Jerusalem
is
God’s
Holy
City,
it
can
never
be
conquered,
don’t
listen
to
these
clowns
telling
you
that
unless
you
change
your
ways
God
is
going
to
send
judgment—they
don’t
know
what
they’re
talking
about.
The
Israelites
preferred
false
prophets
to
true
prophets.
They
preferred
a
god
who
conformed
to
their
own
agenda,
and
they
surrounded
themselves
with
false
prophets
who
supported
their
version
of
God.
It’s
a
kind
of
idolatry
that
happens
still.
We
maintain
illusions
about
how
we
think
the
world
works,
how
we
think
God
works,
and
we
don’t
like
being
confronted
with
the
idea
that
God
doesn’t
operate
according
to
our
different
agendas.
Some
of
us
hold
fast
to
the
illusion
that
life
is
fair,
that
people
can
simply
work
hard,
pull
themselves
up
by
the
bootstraps
and
do
anything
in
this
world
they
set
their
minds
to.
5
Those
of
us
who
hold
to
this
illusion
don’t
like
to
hear
Jesus’
parable
about
the
workers
in
the
vineyard:
Some
workers
worked
a
full
day
while
others
worked
only
an
hour,
but
both
were
paid
the
same.
Nor
do
we
like
Jesus’
story
of
the
prodigal
son
who
runs
off
and
blows
his
inheritance
and
gets
welcomed
home
with
a
party.
Jesus
is
clear:
life
isn’t
fair.
The
world
doesn’t
run
according
to
our
own
efforts.
It
runs
according
to
the
mercy
of
God,
who,
in
his
kindness,
gives
to
every
person
as
he
chooses,
and
then
expects
those
he
blesses
to
turn
around
and
be
a
blessing
to
others.
We
hold
fast
to
the
illusion
that
we
are
in
control,
and
it’s
no
surprise
that
we
feel
the
most
fear
and
anxiety
when
control
is
taken
away
from
us.
We
believe
that
if
we
play
by
the
rules
and
keep
our
noses
clean
that
no
evil
will
ever
befall
us;
that
if
we
do
A,
B,
and
C
as
we
raise
our
children,
that
they
will
turn
out
perfect
and
make
good
choices.
Then
there
is
the
illusion
that
God
is
for
certain
people,
people
like
us,
and
against
certain
others,
people
not
like
us.
We
think
of
“those
people”
in
the
same
way
Jonah
thinks
of
the
Ninevites.
Whatever
illusions
we
have,
we
use
them
to
shape
God
in
whatever
way
is
most
convenient
for
us,
and
of
course,
anyone
who
disagrees
with
us
isn’t
really
disagreeing
with
us.
They’re
disagreeing
with
God.
One
of
the
most
interesting
aspects
of
Jesus’
ministry
was
that
he
was
constantly
disrupting
people’s
notions
of
what
God
was
like.
Allowing
ourselves
to
be
disrupted
and
surprised
that
God
is
different
than
we
think
is
a
significant
part
of
growing
in
the
faith.
Jonah
is
disrupted
by
the
call
to
Nineveh.
The
Pharisees
and
religious
leaders
were
disrupted
by
Jesus’
affiliation
with
sinners,
tax
collectors,
and
prostitutes.
We
need
to
pay
attention
to
those
moments
when
God
disrupts
us.
6
The
captain
goes
below
deck
and
finds
Jonah
sleeping.
“Get
up
and
call
on
your
god!”
And
at
this
point,
the
drama
of
the
story
moves
so
quickly
that
we
often
miss
something
vital.
Everyone
is
praying,
and
the
captain
asks
Jonah,
a
prophet
of
the
Lord,
to
pray.
But
Jonah
remains
silent.
Most
of
the
time
when
reading
the
Bible,
we
finish
one
sentence
and
simply
begin
reading
the
next.
We
don’t
always
recognize
the
significance
of
silence
in
the
story.
Imagine
that
a
woman
says
to
a
man,
“I
love
you.”
But
instead
of
saying
“I
love
you
too,”
the
man
smiles
and
gives
the
woman
an
awkward
hug.
His
silence
is
clear;
he
does
not
love
her
and
can’t
bring
himself
to
say
it.
The
same
thing
is
at
work
here
with
Jonah.
In
this
moment,
his
silence
is
his
way
of
saying
to
God,
“Over
my
dead
body—I’ll
go
to
the
bottom
of
the
sea
before
I
go
to
Nineveh.”
Somehow,
with
the
ship
rocking
to
and
fro,
the
sailors
manage
to
cast
lots
and
find
out
that
the
storm
was
because
of
Jonah.
But
Jonah
doesn’t
give
up
his
illusions
easily.
Instead,
he
tells
the
sailors
to
throw
him
overboard.
Illusions
are
like
that.
We
don’t
give
them
up
easily.
In
fact,
we
don’t
normally
give
them
up
at
all
until
they
stop
working
for
us
altogether.
And
like
Jonah,
sometimes
the
only
thing
that
can
save
us
is
to
be
thrown
overboard,
to
have
our
illusions
stripped
away.
There
are
storms
that
blow
up
out
of
nowhere
and
upset
our
agendas.
We
get
brought
to
our
knees
by
suffering.
And
in
many
ways,
storms
bring
with
them
a
kind
of
salvation.
They
rescue
us
from
ourselves
because
we
are
never
more
open
to
God’s
bigness
than
when
we
are
most
aware
of
our
own
smallness
and
helplessness.
Storms
mess
with
our
agendas.
Suffering,
more
than
anything,
shapes
us
in
the
way
of
Jesus.
It
softens
us
and
opens
us
to
a
kind
of
Christ-‐likeness
that
we
wouldn’t
experience
otherwise.
Jonah’s
hang
up
is
that
he
doesn’t
want
to
face
the
darkness
in
Nineveh,
but
one
wonders
if
he’s
running
just
as
much
from
the
darkness
in
himself.
God
is
inviting
us
to
give
up
our
petty
illusions.
When
we
say
that
someone
is
disillusioned,
what
we
often
mean
is
they’ve
had
a
rough
go
of
things
and
have
stopped
hoping
and
only
see
the
negative.
In
part,
that’s
true.
Our
hopes
and
expectations
can
only
be
crushed
so
many
times
before
we
give
them
up:
better
to
not
be
disappointed
than
to
get
let
down
again.
Yet
it
seems
that
God
is
looking
for
disillusioned
people
because
they’re
the
only
ones
who
stand
a
chance
at
seeing
the
world
as
he
sees
it.
God
is
longing
for
people
to
move
“from
illusion
to
prayer,
from
false
certainty
to
true
uncertainty,
and
from
the
many
safe
gods
to
the
God
whose
love
has
no
limit.”
[Nouwen,
Reaching
Out]
But
for
the
moment,
Jonah
is
so
deeply
entrenched
in
his
illusions
that
he
simply
refuses
to
pray.
7
Week
Three
|
Jonah
2.1-‐10
From
inside
the
fish
Jonah
prayed
to
the
LORD
his
God.
He
said:
“In
my
distress
I
called
to
the
LORD,
and
he
answered
me.
From
deep
in
the
realm
of
the
dead
I
called
for
help,
and
you
listened
to
my
cry.
You
hurled
me
into
the
deep,
into
the
very
heart
of
the
seas,
and
the
currents
swirled
about
me;
all
your
waves
and
breakers
swept
over
me.
I
said,
‘I
have
been
banished
from
your
sight;
yet
I
will
look
again
toward
your
holy
temple.’
The
engulfing
waters
threatened
me,
the
deep
surrounded
me;
seaweed
was
wrapped
around
my
head.
To
the
roots
of
the
mountains
I
sank
down;
the
earth
beneath
barred
me
in
forever.
But
you,
LORD
my
God,
brought
my
life
up
from
the
pit.
When
my
life
was
ebbing
away,
I
remembered
you,
LORD,
and
my
prayer
rose
to
you,
to
your
holy
temple.
Those
who
cling
to
worthless
idols
forfeit
God’s
love
for
them.
But
I,
with
shouts
of
grateful
praise,
will
sacrifice
to
you.
What
I
have
vowed
I
will
make
good.
I
will
say,
‘Salvation
comes
from
the
LORD.’”
And
the
LORD
commanded
the
fish,
and
it
vomited
Jonah
onto
dry
land.
[Read
the
following
either
out
loud
or
silently
and
discuss
the
questions
as
a
group.]
There
is
a
story
in
the
gospel
of
Mark
that
is
fascinating
in
its
similarities
to
Jonah’s
adventure
on
the
boat.
In
Mark
4.35-‐40,
Jesus
and
his
disciples
are
on
a
boat
crossing
the
Sea
of
Galilee
when
a
raging
storm
threatens
to
sink
the
boat.
Like
Jonah,
Jesus
is
asleep
down
below.
Like
Jonah,
Jesus
is
awakened
by
his
terrified
companions.
Unlike
Jonah,
Jesus
doesn’t
remain
silent.
He
speaks
up,
and
the
sea
becomes
calm.
Jonah
knew
that
if
he
prayed
the
sea
would
become
calm,
but
he
couldn’t
bring
himself
to
do
it.
Prayer
plays
a
significant
role
in
the
story
of
Jonah.
On
three
separate
occasions
people
who
are
in
trouble
cry
out
to
God—first
the
sailors
on
the
ship,
then
Jonah
in
the
belly
of
the
fish,
and
finally
in
chapter
3
the
Ninevites
cry
out
to
God.
In
all
three
cases,
God
is
quick
to
respond.
Prayer
is
an
odd
topic.
Most
everyone
would
agree
that
it’s
a
necessary
part
of
a
healthy
life
in
God.
Yet
so
many
people
feel
inadequate
when
it
comes
to
prayer.
We’re
not
good
at
prayer,
we
say.
There’s
a
long
list
of
reasons
that
keep
us
from
praying,
and
because
of
that,
the
topic
of
prayer
can
easily
leave
people
feeling
guilty,
shamed,
and
inferior.
We’re
tempted
to
think
that
the
solution
to
the
dilemma
of
prayer
in
our
lives
is
simply
to
try
harder—praying
more
and
with
more
passion.
Yet
despite
our
best
efforts,
we
often
find
ourselves
back
at
square
one.
8
What
we
need
is
an
entirely
new
way
of
thinking
about
prayer,
and
one
of
the
more
shocking
pieces
of
the
story
of
Jonah
is
that
God
uses
a
man
who
blatantly
refuses
to
pray
to
teach
us
one
of
the
most
poignant
lessons
on
prayer
in
all
the
Scriptures.
Surprisingly,
hardly
any
of
the
words
in
Jonah’s
prayer
are
original.
Instead,
he
borrows
virtually
phrase
or
idea
straight
out
of
the
Psalms
[3,
5,
18,
30,
42,
69,
120,
and
139].
For
as
long
as
the
Psalms
have
been
around,
people
of
faith
have
used
them
to
learn
how
to
pray,
and
it’s
simple
enough
to
understand
why:
there
are
moments
in
our
lives
when
we
simply
don’t
know
what
to
say
to
God—moments
when
we’re
so
angry,
so
confused,
or
so
flat
out
uninspired
that
we
can’t
choke
out
even
the
simplest
prayer.
In
such
moments,
the
Psalms
become
words
of
life.
When
you
can’t
find
your
own
words,
borrow
someone
else’s.
When
you
can’t
find
your
own
hope,
borrow
someone
else’s.
Time
and
time
again,
people
find
themselves
staring
at
the
songs
that
are
sung
on
Sundays,
unable
to
sing
the
words.
The
fact
of
the
matter
is
that
there
are
moments
when
our
heart
does
not
choose
to
say,
“Lord,
blessed
be
your
name.”
And
in
those
moments,
it’s
the
community
around
us,
singing
“My
heart
will
choose
to
say,
Lord,
blessed
be
your
name”
that
gives
us
the
courage
and
the
faith
to
keep
on
trusting.
Praying
borrowed
words
has
a
way
of
guiding
us
into
the
presence
of
God
in
those
moments
when
we
can’t
seem
to
find
the
way
ourselves.
But
there
is
more.
One
of
the
great
mysteries
of
the
Christian
story
is
that
words
have
a
way
of
becoming
flesh.
In
Hebrew,
davar
means
“word”,
but
it
also
means
“event”.
Words
don’t
simply
convey
ideas.
They
also
make
things
happen,
just
as
God’s
speaking
in
Genesis
1
made
creation
happen.
They
have
the
capacity
to
get
loose
in
a
person
and
rattle
around
inside
them
for
weeks
on
end,
sometimes
for
a
lifetime.
These
are
the
kinds
of
words
that
don’t
let
you
alone—they
linger,
they
nag
at
you
until
you
change.
They
literally
become
flesh.
So
Jonah,
with
his
back
against
an
intestinal
wall,
recalls
the
Psalms
and
weaves
these
borrowed
words
into
a
prayer.
There
are
basically
two
kinds
of
Psalms:
Psalms
of
lament
and
Psalms
of
thanksgiving.
Everything
about
Jonah’s
situation
points
to
lament.
He’s
angry.
He’s
on
the
verge
of
death.
But
Jonah,
remembering
the
Psalms,
prays
a
prayer
of
thanksgiving.
It’s
an
odd
choice.
A
similar
thing
occurs
in
the
book
of
Job.
In
one
twenty-‐four
hour
period
Job
loses
everything:
his
vast
wealth
gets
stolen
by
thieves,
all
of
his
servants
are
killed—except
for
the
few
who
live
to
tell
him
what
happened—and
every
last
one
of
his
children
is
killed
in
a
freak
windstorm.
It
is
immediate
and
overwhelming
loss,
and
Job’s
response
is
not
what
you
would
expect.
9
“At
this,
Job
got
up
and
tore
his
robe
and
shaved
his
head.
Then
he
fell
to
the
ground
in
worship
and
said:
‘Naked
I
came
from
my
mother’s
womb,
and
naked
I
will
depart.
The
LORD
gave
and
the
LORD
has
taken
away;
may
the
name
of
the
LORD
be
praised
.’”
[Job
1.20-‐21]
Both
Jonah’s
prayer
and
Job’s
worship
are
so
counter-‐intuitive,
unexpected.
Who
gets
swallowed
by
a
fish
and
prays
a
prayer
of
thanksgiving?
Who
loses
everything
and
falls
to
the
ground
in
worship?
In
the
midst
of
overwhelming
sadness
and
hopelessness,
Jonah
reaches
into
the
rich
history
of
prayer
and
prays
words
of
hope
and
trust.
This
prayer
might
be
the
greatest
truth
that
gets
revealed
by
Jonah’s
life:
Prayer
helps
us
live
into
truths
that
we
sometimes
don’t
feel
or
can’t
see.
The
truth
that,
despite
the
overwhelming
evidence
to
the
contrary:
God
is
in
control.
God
can
be
trusted.
God
hears
the
prayers
that
rise
up
to
him
out
of
the
depths;
they
come
up
before
his
face,
and
he
is
concerned.
In
our
moments
of
sadness,
confusion,
and
anxiety,
praying
Psalms
of
thanksgiving
helps
us
move
beyond
our
helplessness
into
the
realm
of
God’s
helpfulness.
They
move
us
out
of
our
own
smallness
and
into
God’s
bigness.
Whatever
our
circumstance,
the
Psalms
show
us
the
way
when
we
can’t
find
it
on
our
own.
There
is
only
one
problem.
Look
at
Jonah’s
prayer
again.
Twice
he
speaks
about
God’s
holy
temple;
then
he
commits
to
offering
sacrifices
to
God,
in
Jerusalem,
in
Israel.
He
just
wants
to
go
home.
Jonah
never
says
anything
about
Nineveh
or
his
running.
He
doesn’t
apologize.
He
doesn’t
repent.
He
doesn’t
say
he’ll
go
to
Nineveh.
And
judging
from
what
we’ve
seen
of
him
so
far,
his
omission
is
suspicious.
So
which
is
it?
Are
his
words
sincere?
Is
he
a
changed
man?
Or
is
he
simply
saying
all
the
right
things?
Or,
as
is
so
often
the
case,
is
it
a
little
of
both
at
the
same
time?
Maybe
one
of
the
most
precious
gifts
of
the
story
of
Jonah
is
that
God
so
often
works
in
the
world
through
people
who
are
a
curious
mixture
of
dignity
and
depravity,
sincerity
and
selfishness.
Either
way,
his
prayer
comes
up
before
God,
and
God
commands
the
fish,
and
it
vomits
Jonah
onto
the
dry
land.
10
Week
Four
|
Jonah
3.1-‐10
Then
the
word
of
the
LORD
came
to
Jonah
a
second
time:
“Go
to
the
great
city
of
Nineveh
and
proclaim
to
it
the
message
I
give
you.”
Jonah
obeyed
the
word
of
the
LORD
and
went
to
Nineveh.
Now
Nineveh
was
a
very
large
city;
it
took
three
days
to
go
through
it.
Jonah
began
by
going
a
day’s
journey
into
the
city,
proclaiming,
“Forty
more
days
and
Nineveh
will
be
overthrown.”
The
Ninevites
believed
God.
They
declared
a
fast,
and
all
of
them,
from
the
greatest
to
the
least,
put
on
sackcloth.
When
the
news
reached
the
king
of
Nineveh,
he
rose
from
his
throne,
took
off
his
royal
robes,
covered
himself
with
sackcloth
and
sat
down
in
the
dust.
Then
he
issued
a
proclamation
in
Nineveh:
“By
the
decree
of
the
king
and
his
nobles:
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.”
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.
[Read
the
following
either
out
loud
or
silently
and
discuss
the
questions
as
a
group.]
The
Bible
doesn’t
say
anything
about
Jonah’s
long
walk
from
the
Mediterranean
coast
to
Nineveh,
only
that
the
fish
vomits
him
onto
the
dry
land,
and
that
he
goes
to
Nineveh.
Three
days
in
the
belly
of
the
fish
and
a
long
walk
is
a
lot
of
time
to
think.
What
does
Jonah
think
about
as
he
makes
the
long
trek?
Is
he
so
grateful
to
be
alive
that
every
step
felt
like
a
gift?
Or
does
he
stew
over
his
conviction
that
Nineveh
doesn’t
deserve
so
much
as
a
second
thought
from
God,
let
alone
a
second
chance?
The
Bible
doesn’t
say.
It
simply
says
that
this
time,
he
went.
One
thing
is
clear:
Jonah
despises
Nineveh,
and
maybe
for
good
reason.
It
turns
out
that
Nineveh
isn’t
the
only
city
in
the
Scriptures
whose
wickedness
was
so
great
that
it
caught
God’s
attention.
The
sin
of
Sodom
and
Gomorrah
was
so
grievous
that
God
decided
to
“go
and
see
if
what
they
have
done
is
as
bad
as
the
outcry
that
has
reached
me.”
We
understand
from
the
Bible
that
things
in
Sodom
and
Gomorrah
were
really
bad,
and
because
Nineveh’s
wickedness
comes
up
before
God
in
the
same
way,
things
in
Nineveh
must
have
been
really
bad
too.
And
things
in
Nineveh
were
bad.
So
bad
that
the
prophet
Nahum
spoke
of
it:
“The
city
of
blood,
full
of
lies,
full
of
plunder,
never
without
victims!
The
crack
of
whips,
the
clatter
of
wheels,
galloping
horses
and
jolting
chariots!
Charging
cavalry,
flashing
swords
and
glittering
spears!
Many
casualties,
piles
of
dead,
bodies
without
number,
people
stumbling
over
the
corpses—all
because
of
the
wanton
lust
of
a
prostitute,
alluring,
the
mistress
of
sorceries,
who
enslaved
nations
by
her
prostitution
and
peoples
by
her
witchcraft.”
[Nahum
3.1-‐4]
Who
can
blame
Jonah
for
not
wanting
to
go?
It’s
easy
for
us
to
focus
so
much
on
the
fact
that
Jonah
is
finally
on
the
same
page
as
God
that
we
forget
11
just
how
bad
things
are
in
Nineveh.
You
could
mistake
Nahum’s
description
of
Nineveh
for
the
atrocities
in
present-‐day
Congo:
forced
labor,
systematic
rape,
and
human
trafficking.
And
it’s
not
about
personal
sin—if
you
read
to
the
end
of
Jonah
chapter
4,
God
mentions
the
animals
of
Nineveh.
It’s
a
strange
detail
and
a
sad
one
because
sin
always
extends
beyond
us
to
the
people
and
things
around
us,
even
creation.
It
always
has
implications
for
others.
Questions
to
Discuss
• Does
everyone
deserve
a
second
chance?
• How
would
you
feel
if
you
were
Jonah,
making
your
way
into
a
city
of
depravity?
• In
what
ways
have
you
been
impacted
by
someone
else’s
sin?
• When
have
you
seen
your
own
sin
have
consequences
for
other
people?
Whether
Jonah
learned
to
share
God’s
concern
for
Nineveh
or
just
went
out
of
obligation,
the
miracle
is
that
he
goes
at
all.
He
walks
into
the
heart
of
darkness
and
begins
making
his
way
up
and
down
the
city
streets
proclaiming,
“Forty
more
days
and
Nineveh
will
be
overturned.”
In
Hebrew,
the
number
40
is
symbolic
of
an
extended
period
of
time.
The
great
flood
of
Genesis
lasted
40
days,
the
Israelites
spent
40
years
in
the
wilderness,
Jesus’
temptation
in
the
wilderness
lasted
40
days.
God
is
giving
the
Ninevites
an
extended
period
of
time
before
overturning
the
city.
It’s
a
warning.
Word
of
Jonah’s
warning
spreads
through
the
city.
The
news
even
makes
its
way
to
the
king,
who,
upon
hearing
it,
does
something
totally
unexpected
and
unbecoming
of
a
king:
he
gets
off
his
throne,
takes
off
his
royal
robes,
puts
on
sackcloth,
covers
himself
in
ashes
and
sits
low
in
the
dust.
He
sends
a
royal
decree
throughout
the
city
declaring
that
everyone
fast
and
wear
sackcloth—even
the
animals.
Nineveh’s
response
to
God
is
an
example
of
true
repentance.
Verse
10
says
that
“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.”
God’s
compassion
in
the
story
of
Jonah
is
not
random.
It’s
aroused
by
the
repentance
of
the
sailors
and
the
Ninevites.
It
triggers
something
in
God
that
he
can’t
resist.
God
acts
when
people
repent.
Repentance
was
at
the
heart
of
everything
Jesus
did.
Everywhere
he
went,
he
preached
“Repent,
for
the
kingdom
of
heaven
has
come
near”
[Matthew
4.17].
And
it
was
repentance
that
Jesus
was
talking
about
when
he
made
reference
to
Jonah
in
Matthew
12.
In
that
passage,
some
Pharisees
and
teachers
of
the
law
asked
Jesus
to
give
them
a
sign.
Jesus
responded
by
saying,
“A
wicked
and
adulterous
generation
asks
for
a
sign!
But
none
will
be
given
it
except
the
sign
of
the
prophet
Jonah.
For
as
Jonah
was
three
days
and
three
nights
in
the
belly
of
a
huge
fish,
so
the
Son
of
Man
will
be
three
days
and
three
nights
in
the
heart
of
the
earth.
The
people
of
Nineveh
will
stand
up
at
the
judgment
with
this
generation
and
condemn
it;
for
they
repented
at
the
preaching
of
Jonah,
and
now
one
greater
than
Jonah
is
here.”
[Matthew
12.39-‐41]
12
The
pagan
sailors
and
the
bloodthirsty
Ninevites
repented,
but
as
we’ll
see,
Jonah,
a
Hebrew
prophet,
a
leader,
never
seems
to
come
around.
He
is
hard-‐hearted
and
stubborn
to
the
very
end.
And
when
Jesus,
the
Son
of
God,
comes
to
earth,
it’s
the
leaders
of
the
faith,
the
Pharisees
and
the
teachers
of
the
law
who
refuse
to
accept
his
message,
“Repent,
for
the
kingdom
of
heaven
has
come
near.”
The
Ninevites
“turned
from
their
evil
ways.”
The
Hebrew
word
for
“turn”
is
the
word
shuv.
It
means
“to
turn”,
but
it
also
means
“to
return”.
Repentance—true,
life
altering
repentance—is
about
more
than
just
dying
to
sin.
It’s
also
about
returning
to
the
kind
of
life
we
were
created
for.
Repentance
is
about
stopping
and
going,
dying
and
living,
giving
up
and
taking
on.
It
is
surrender
and
liberation
all
at
once.
Both
the
story
of
Jonah
and
the
life
and
ministry
of
Jesus
are
centered
on
the
powerful
act
of
repentance.
They
are
an
invitation
to
turn
from
sin
and
return
to
the
life
that
God
created
us
for.
What
are
the
habits,
patterns,
behaviors,
and
ways
of
thinking,
speaking,
and
living
that
we
need
to
leave
behind?
Because
God
created
us
for
so
much
more.
But
we
don’t
just
leave
things
behind,
we
replace
them
with
new
habits,
patterns,
behaviors,
and
ways
of
thinking,
speaking,
and
living.
We
replace
death
with
life.
We
exchange
hearts
of
stone
for
hearts
of
flesh.
We
turn
and
we
return.
One
of
the
most
powerful
images
of
repentance
in
this
chapter
of
Jonah
is
the
king
of
Nineveh
getting
off
his
throne.
It’s
an
acknowledgment
that
he’s
not
in
control,
that
there
is
Someone
else
who
belongs
in
that
seat.
Repentance
is
a
way
of
getting
off
the
throne
of
our
own
lives,
of
stepping
down
and
confessing
that
we
are
not
capable
of
living
the
redeemed
kind
of
life
God
created
us
for
when
we
try
to
do
it
under
our
own
power.
God
is
just
waiting
for
people
to
turn
from
their
sin
and
return
to
him.
The
question
is,
“How
will
we
respond?”
Will
we
respond
like
the
sailors
and
the
Ninevites
or
like
Jonah?
Will
we
respond
like
the
sinners
and
tax
collectors
of
Jesus’
day
or
like
the
Pharisees
and
teachers
of
the
law?
13
Week
Five
|
Jonah
4.1-‐11
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?”
Jonah
went
out
and
sat
down
at
a
place
east
of
the
city.
There
he
made
himself
a
shelter,
sat
in
its
shade
and
waited
to
see
what
would
happen
to
the
city.
Then
the
LORD
God
provided
a
gourd
vine
and
made
it
grow
up
over
Jonah
to
give
shade
for
his
head
to
ease
his
discomfort,
and
Jonah
was
very
happy
about
the
vine.
But
at
dawn
the
next
day
God
provided
a
worm,
which
chewed
the
vine
so
that
it
withered.
When
the
sun
rose,
God
provided
a
scorching
east
wind,
and
the
sun
blazed
on
Jonah’s
head
so
that
he
grew
faint.
He
wanted
to
die,
and
said,
“It
would
be
better
for
me
to
die
than
to
live.”
But
God
said
to
Jonah,
“Is
it
right
for
you
to
be
angry
about
the
vine?”
“It
is,”
he
said.
“And
I’m
so
angry
I
wish
I
were
dead.”
But
the
LORD
said,
“You
have
been
concerned
about
this
vine,
though
you
did
not
tend
it
or
make
it
grow.
It
sprang
up
overnight
and
died
overnight.
And
should
I
not
have
concern
for
the
great
city
Nineveh,
in
which
there
are
more
than
a
hundred
and
twenty
thousand
people
who
cannot
tell
their
right
hand
from
their
left—and
also
many
animals?”
[Read
the
following
either
out
loud
or
silently
and
discuss
the
questions
as
a
group.]
Jonah
is
past
frustrated.
He
is
beyond
upset.
He
is
angry.
So
angry
that
for
the
second
time
in
this
story
he
would
rather
just
die.
Jonah
says
one
of
the
reasons
he
is
angry
is
because
God
is
“a
God
who
relents
from
sending
calamity”.
The
word
calamity
means
great
loss
or
lasting
distress,
or
maybe
we
could
just
say
lasting
tragedy.
When
we
think
of
lasting
tragedy,
it’s
easy
to
remember
the
people
of
Haiti,
hit
with
an
earthquake
that
left
thousands
of
men,
women,
and
children
dead
and
thousands
more
without
food,
water,
or
a
place
to
sleep.
An
entire
city
in
utter
distress
for
many
years
to
come
and
with
very
little
hope
to
cling
to.
This
is
calamity.
And
this
is
what
Jonah
hopes
for
the
people
of
Nineveh?
I
think
it
is
safe
to
assume
that
the
roots
of
Jonah’s
anger
run
very
deep.
This
kind
of
anger
isn’t
built
overnight.
In
fact
the
Hebrew
word
for
anger
is
the
word
chara.
Not
only
does
it
mean
anger
but
it
also
means,
“to
burn”.
Jonah’s
anger
is
a
seething,
bubbling
kind
of
rage
just
below
the
surface.
It’s
the
kind
of
anger
that
has
been
around
for
a
long
time
and
could
explode
through
the
surface
at
any
moment.
And
it
finally
does.
This
is
a
man—who
claims
to
speak
for
God—and
he
is
utterly
enraged
that
God
has
shown
grace
and
mercy
to
a
city
of
people.
It
doesn’t
match
up.
You
would
think
that
a
person
who
speaks
for
God
would
have
an
idea
of
how
God
works.
But
that
is
the
problem.
Jonah
responds
to
God
saying,
“I
knew
that
you
are
a
gracious
and
compassionate
God,
slow
to
anger
and
abounding
in
love,
a
God
who
relents
from
sending
calamity.”
Jonah
knows
how
God
works,
and
he
doesn’t
like
it.
Like
many
of
us,
Jonah
is
not
getting
his
way.
He
doesn’t
want
“Gracious,
Compassionate
God”
he
wants
“Angry,
Bring
the
Calamity
God”.
He
wants
his
idea
of
justice
to
be
served.
And
it’s
not
happening.
14
Jonah
and
Nineveh
are
more
alike
than
Jonah
wants
to
admit.
Jonah,
in
the
belly
of
the
fish,
cries
out
for
God’s
grace
and
mercy,
and
God
delivers
him.
Nineveh
cries
the
same
cry
to
the
same
God
and
God
responds
in
the
same
way.
Grace.
Jonah
and
Nineveh
are
in
need
of
the
same
thing
from
the
same
God.
But
Jonah
can’t
accept
that
he
is
his
enemy,
and
his
enemy
is
him.
So
he
finds
himself
in
a
place
he
is
familiar
with,
feeling
that
same
itch
to
get
away—wanting
to
escape
it
all.
Jonah
wants
to
die,
which
is
really
just
another
form
of
escape.
In
the
same
way
that
Jonah
ran
to
Tarshish,
he
is
running
still.
When
we
begin
to
take
a
long
hard
look
inside
ourselves
for
the
root
of
our
anger
we
start
to
see
things
we
may
or
may
not
like;
things
like
fear
and
self-‐hatred.
Jonah
is
not
running
from
God;
he
is
running
from
himself.
And
no
matter
how
far
he
runs,
he
will
always
have
to
keep
running.
Maybe
like
Jonah,
you’re
angry.
Maybe
you’re
on
the
run.
And
the
more
you
run
the
more
you
distance
yourself
from
the
grace
that
is
waiting.
It
is
time
to
stop
running.
Questions
to
Discuss
• What
things
have
you
seen
in
others
that
made
you
angry
only
to
later
find
those
same
things
in
yourself?
• If
you
look
just
behind
or
underneath
your
anger,
what’s
the
real
source
of
it?
• Where
or
to
whom
in
your
life
have
you
been
showing
anger
where
instead
you
should
be
extending
grace?
Jonah
is
angry
at
God
and
angry
about
Nineveh.
These
folks
have
murdered
and
killed.
They’ve
cracked
whips
on
the
backs
of
slave
laborers.
And
Jonah
still
expects
them
to
earn
their
share
of
calamity.
So
he
leaves
the
city
and
finds
a
place
to
sit
and
watch
what
will
happen
next.
He
fully
believes
that
Nineveh
will
backslide,
even
hopes
they
will.
Jonah
sits
down
because
he
wants
a
front
row
seat
to
watch
God
wipe
these
people
off
the
map.
He
is
sitting
and
waiting,
watching
for
his
sweet
justice
to
finally
come.
But
while
he
waits
it
becomes
extremely
hot
and
God
causes
a
plant
to
grow
behind
him
to
give
him
the
shade
he
needs.
Now
if
you
are
like
me
you
are
reading
that
part
of
the
story
saying,
Wait,
you
gave
him
shade?
Jonah
finds
a
seat
and
is
waiting
to
throw
God’s
actions
back
in
his
face
and
say
Ha!
I
told
you
so,
I
told
you
that
you
were
wrong—and
God
makes
him
more
comfortable?
Jonah
cannot
wait
to
prove
God
wrong
and
God’s
response
is,
need
an
umbrella?
Sure
you’re
comfy?
Can
I
get
you
anything?
Jonah
is
still
waiting
to
enjoy
his
justice
and
God
responds
with
grace
and
mercy.
The
irony
here
is
that
God
is
showing
Jonah
grace
while
Jonah
sits
and
hopes
for
God’s
grace
to
fall
apart
for
Nineveh.
As
if
it
is
somehow
good
enough
for
him,
but
not
for
them.
And
I
think
that
word
is
the
key
here:
“them”.
Those
people,
that
group,
them.
The
word
“them”
often
carries
with
it
an
idea
of
separation.
There
is
“us”
and
then
there
is
“them”.
And
often
when
“them”
is
used
to
describe
our
enemies,
they
get
stripped
of
their
humanity.
They
begin
to
represent
something
that
is
less
than
human.
Something
we
can
hate
and
not
feel
bad
about
because
it
is
justified.
15
God
says
to
Jonah
“Nineveh
has
more
than
a
hundred
and
twenty
thousand
people
who
cannot
tell
their
right
hand
from
their
left.”
What
an
odd
way
to
describe
people.
But
this
was
actually
a
common
Hebrew
way
of
referring
to
children
or
helpless
people
who
don’t
know
any
better.
God
is
saying
to
Jonah,
“There
are
120,000
helpless
people
in
that
city,
should
I
not
care
for
them?”
God
reminds
Jonah
that
his
enemies
are
human.
But
Jonah
is
hoping
for
revenge.
The
story
of
Jonah
is
ultimately
about
God
and
what
he
is
like.
What
his
desires
for
the
world
are.
It’s
a
story
that
puts
Jonah’s
desire
alongside
God’s
desire
and
builds
to
a
question:
Will
God’s
desires
become
Jonah’s
desires?
Will
God’s
hope
for
the
world
become
Jonah’s
heart
for
the
world?
God
is
a
“gracious
and
compassionate
God,
slow
to
anger
and
abounding
in
love,
a
God
who
relents
from
sending
calamity.”
This
phrase
is
repeated
all
over
the
Old
Testament.
Jonah’s
hope
for
Nineveh’s
misfortune
is
contrasted
with
this
God.
The
one
who
speaks
on
behalf
of
God
is
not
reflecting
the
same
desires
as
God.
Jonah
has
a
different
hope.
What
Jonah
wants
is
not
what
God
wants.
Do
we
want
the
same
things
that
God
wants?
Great
stories
tend
to
leave
us
hanging.
They
don’t
resolve.
We’re
left
sitting
in
the
tension
wondering
what
happened.
Jesus’
story
of
the
prodigal
son
ends
this
way.
In
the
final
scene,
the
father
is
pleading
with
his
older
son
to
come
join
the
party
that
is
being
thrown
for
his
younger
brother.
But
the
story
ends
before
the
older
son
makes
a
choice,
and
we’re
left
wondering,
Does
he
go
into
the
party?
Or
does
he
sit
outside
and
sulk?
The
book
of
Jonah
ends
like
this
too,
which
is
a
clever
way
of
jolting
us
out
of
the
story
and
into
our
own
lives.
The
question
is
not
so
much,
Will
Jonah
come
around?
as
it
is,
Will
I
come
around?
The
question
is
not,
Will
the
older
brother
ever
join
the
party?
The
question
is,
Will
I
join
the
party?
The
simple
storyline
of
Jonah
is
this:
God
has
a
dream
for
the
world.
Jonah
has
a
dream
for
the
world.
Those
dreams
are
very
different.
God
is
compassionate.
Jonah
is
angry.
God
invites
Jonah
to
share
his
dream
for
the
world,
to
exchange
his
anger
for
compassion.
Will
he?
God
extends
that
same
invitation
to
us—to
share
his
dreams
for
the
world,
to
exchange
our
anger
for
compassion,
grace,
and
mercy.
Will
we?
16