Mercy comes running.
Jonah, Part 2: God’s sovereign and merciful control over all things.
Jonah’s plan to flee “from the presence of the Lord” starts off swimmingly. He happens to find one of the few transport ships in Joppa that was scheduled to make the long voyage to Tarshish. Joppa, you might know, was a fairly popular port city on the coast of the Mediterranean. Although it wasn’t the most heavily trafficked seaport, it still represented a significant outpost with a long history of trade and commerce. Interestingly enough, Joppa was the same port that was used by King Solomon to import timber and other supplies during the construction of the temple (2 Chron. 2:16). But it wasn’t every day that one could find a boat going to the edge of the earth, which is what Tarshish represented. If the scholars are right, Tarshish was an ancient port city on the outskirts of Phoenicia on the Atlantic coast, in what would be modern-day Spain. This makes Jonah’s target destination approximately 2,500 miles away from his little corner of the world. He is quite literally looking to put as much distance as possible between himself and the call of God.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t happenstance that the particulars of Jonah’s runaway scheme were unfolding so successfully. This wasn’t a case of good luck or good planning on Jonah’s part. Amid the prophet of the Lord scampering away from the will of the Lord, there are a number of details that remind us who was really in control the whole time. And, to be sure, it wasn’t Jonah. What this story reveals is that ours is a God who governs the events of history in order that his purposes might be fulfilled. He oversees and orchestrates every facet of our days to bring about his desired ends. As the Reformed theologian and scholar Abraham Kuyper famously quipped, “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’” This theme is, of course, prevalent through Scripture, but it is profoundly present in Chapter 1 of Jonah’s story.
God’s control over forecasts.
As Jonah embarks for Tarshish, it doesn’t take long for all of his well-laid plans to be thrown into disarray. God upsets all of his intentions by sending a horrendous storm to disrupt his chartered skiff off course. This heaven-sent tempest is so intense that the Tarshish-bound boat is on the brink of being reduced to driftwood (Jonah 1:4). While we might casually affirm God’s control over the weather, the picture that is painted for us in Jonah 1 is that God’s jurisdiction is much more exact, even to the point of manipulating forecasts. The phrasing is quite literal in its portrayal of divine power. “The Lord hurled a great wind upon the sea,” with “hurled” being the same term that’s used when King Saul attempted to pin an anointed shepherd boy to the wall with a spear (1 Sam. 18:11; 20:33). The effect is to evoke the user’s complete mastery and control over the object, like a weapon in the grip of a skilled soldier or flour, sugar, and eggs in the hands of a professional baker. The point is that as manipulatable as a spear is in the hands of a seething king, so, too, is every weather event at the beck and call of God Almighty. This is echoed throughout the Psalms:
You rule the raging of the sea;
when its waves rise, you still them.
(Ps. 89:9)
For I know that the Lord is great,
and that our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the Lord pleases, he does,
in heaven and on earth,
in the seas and all deeps.
He it is who makes the clouds rise at the end of the earth,
who makes lightnings for the rain
and brings forth the wind from his storehouses.
(Ps. 135:5–7)
This torrential storm was no accident; it did not just “happen” at random. Neither was it simply a meteorological event. This was a theological moment, in which God interrupted Jonah’s efforts to run away by tossing a tempest into the mix in order to get his attention. Even in the middle of Jonah’s rebellious tantrum, God was still in control. For as smooth as his escape “from the presence of the Lord” appeared to be going up to that point, even then, the Lord of all was working out all things according to his Word. Despite what we may think, we aren’t ahead of him. We haven’t outsmarted him nor is he playing catch up with us. God is always one to one thousand steps ahead of us. Similar to Jonah’s circumstances, the Lord resorts to manipulating events and tossing in some storms in order to get our attention. But this, too, is downstream of his massively merciful heart, wherein he asserts his control so that his runaways might stop their running. That’s how much he loves you. Nineteenth-century Scottish pastor and theologian Patrick Fairbairn concurs:
Indeed, it was an act of mercy to employ any means to check him in his course; for the worst thing that can be done to a transgressor, is to let him alone in his transgression. (54)
God’s control over fate.
The “mighty tempest” strewn in front of Jonah must have been something fierce if it caused even those weather-beaten sailors to become petrified, so much so that the crew had resorted to tossing as much cargo overboard as possible to lighten the ship’s load. And when that didn’t seem to work, they started to pray. “Then the mariners were afraid, and each cried out to his god” (Jonah 1:5). This, of course, serves as a fascinating specimen of human nature, demonstrating that no matter one’s religious upbringing or proclivities, when the chips are down, the proverbial “last resort” is always to a “higher power.” “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God,’” except I suppose when it’s a matter of life or death. Nevertheless, while everyone above deck is in a panic, God’s prophet is below deck sleeping “like a baby”:
Then the mariners were afraid, and each cried out to his god. And they hurled the cargo that was in the ship into the sea to lighten it for them. But Jonah had gone down into the inner part of the ship and had lain down and was fast asleep. (Jonah 1:5)
Jonah’s ability to fall “fast asleep” during the middle of a monsoon has raised some questions. For example, is he sleeping because he is ignorant of the storm? Or is he indifferent to the storm? Is he sleeping because he doesn’t know about it? Or is it because he’s okay if it takes him out? Scripture never gives us definitive answers, but whatever the case, Jonah’s sheer disregard for the call of God is being put on display. Leave it to God, however, to do what was needed to rouse his sleepy servant, this time through a pagan boat captain. “What do you mean, you sleeper?” the skipper cries. “Arise, call out to your god! Perhaps the god will give a thought to us, that we may not perish” (Jonah 1:6). “God sent his prophet,” notes the late Tim Keller, “to point the pagans toward himself. Yet now it is the pagans pointing the prophet toward God” (34).
It’s worth noting that the word with which the captain addresses the passed-out prophet is the same word that God used, “Arise!” It appears that if Jonah wouldn’t listen to the voice of Yahweh, he would have to hear from Yahweh through the voice of a disbelieving sailor. But as the sleepy stowaway is roused from his slumber, he is immediately rushed above deck where the chaos has worsened. The sailors tried everything from lighting the ship to invoking the help of the gods, but nothing was working. They deduce that someone onboard must have angered one of the gods, leading them to “cast lots” (Jonah 1:7). This was a fairly common practice in those days, as participants essentially played a game of chance that they believed had a divine outcome. (The connotation behind “casting lots” wasn’t always negative either. See, for example, Lev. 16:8–10.) The point is that when “the lot fell on Jonah,” this wasn’t a case of bad luck. Even this was under the all-knowing jurisdiction of God Almighty (Prov. 16:33). No matter how the die is cast, God is in control.
When Jonah is exposed as a fugitive, the sailors immediately begin peppering him with questions. “Tell us on whose account this evil has come upon us. What is your occupation? And where do you come from? What is your country? And of what people are you?” (Jonah 1:8). Though the sailors weren’t worshipers of Yahweh, they were certainly fearful of getting on any god’s bad side. Their inquiries constrain Jonah to come clean about who he is and what he’s done, causing the crew to grow even more terrified than they already were.
And he said to them, “I am a Hebrew, and I fear the Lord, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land.” Then the men were exceedingly afraid and said to him, “What is this that you have done!” For the men knew that he was fleeing from the presence of the Lord, because he had told them. (Jonah 1:9–10)
Through Jonah’s confession, the sailors finally realize that it was his God who was behind this hurricane. His rebellion had put the entire crew in jeopardy. The distraught stares between a fugitive and a bunch of fearful mariners disclose the futility of this whole affair. The Lord’s sovereign and merciful control had dismantled his prophet’s attempts to escape his will. That’s often what he does when we try to pretend as if we are the ones in control and he’s not. “God invites us to experience our not being in control as an invitation to faith,” writes Henri Nouwen (27). He disrupts what we have cooking, not to shame or embarrass us but to deepen our trust and reliance on him.
God’s control over fish.
As the panic-stricken crew grew even more petrified at Jonah’s revelation, they inquired how they might fix it, bringing us to the most famous moment in this entire narrative:
Then they said to him, “What shall we do to you, that the sea may quiet down for us?” For the sea grew more and more tempestuous. 12 He said to them, “Pick me up and hurl me into the sea; then the sea will quiet down for you, for I know it is because of me that this great tempest has come upon you.” (Jonah 1:11–12)
What’s going on here? Is Jonah making a choice to finally and fully remove himself from the mission God had given him? Or is he so moved by love for these sailors that he decides to sacrifice his own life in order to spare them? Is Jonah being selfless or selfish? As before, the Scriptures don’t really give us definitive answers. Some preachers have speculated that, by this point, the storm has sufficiently aroused Jonah’s faith, so much so that he becomes their substitute in order that they might be spared. Others insist that he is using this circumstance to his advantage since he wanted to die anyway, as he later reveals (Jonah 4:3). Both interpretations, however, are nothing more than educated guesses since we aren’t able to see inside Jonah’s mind. (For my own part, though, I see this move as a death wish. Jonah wanted to get as far away as possible from God’s call on his life, and what better way to do that than to remove himself from the picture entirely?)
Little did Jonah know that God was already in control of a way for him to be rescued and redeemed. But, of course, that rescue plan didn’t look like anything anyone could have ever predicted. Instead of immediately tossing their fugitive overboard, the sailors attempt to row back to shore to no avail (Jonah 1:13–14). With the tempest growing even more intense, they cry out to Jonah’s God in hopes that he won’t hold them responsible for what they are about to do. The prospect of tossing someone to their watery grave wasn’t something they took lightly. But no sooner had Jonah’s shadowy form disappeared into the deep did the sea cease from its raging, drenching the sailors in fear, so much so that they offered a sacrifice to the Lord (Jonah 1:15–16).
Jonah wasn’t left to tread water for long, though, as he soon found himself in the belly of a great fish. “The Lord appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights” (Jonah 1:17). The keyword is “appointed,” which is evocative of the other elements — the weather and the lots — that were under God’s sovereign jurisdiction. Similarly, this fish, whatever its species, had been prepared by its Creator to swallow up this fugitive prophet at this exact moment. God’s control, of course, isn’t bound by the confines of human comprehension. Indeed, there is never a moment when he is not in control. Every occasion of our lives is under his sovereign and merciful superintendence. Even when it feels like he’s not in control, he is. The weather is his, the lots are his, and the fish is his (Ps. 95:3–5). It’s all his, including you and me.
God’s superintendence over redemption.
God’s assertion of his control over all things is a demonstration of his mercy. This is what he did for his runaway prophet and, by the same token, this is what he’s done for the whole world. His sovereign superintendence over his runaway prophet’s eventual redemption parallels his glorious superintendence on the cross. In both scenes, God hadn’t lost even the tiniest ounce of control. As the torrential winds threatened to take the life of not only the prophet of God but also everyone else in that skiff, God’s merciful control pervaded every breaker. As the rowdy mob hurled their worst at the naked and mutilated Son of God, God’s merciful control was working out all things to bring about redemption for all, even for those in the mob. God’s good news is the amazing and uncanny announcement that even when everything appears to be falling apart, Jesus Christ is putting it back together. This is why, with nails in his hands, a spear in his side, and his body pegged to a cross, he can say, “Father forgive them” (Luke 23:34). Even as he’s being crucified, even as he’s dying and bleeding out for a world full of sinners, he is in complete control.
Like Jonah, even when we were estranged from God, he was already cooking up a way for us to be rescued and redeemed. And, like Jonah, this rescue plan didn’t look like anything anyone could have ever predicted. It looked like defeat. It looked like death. It looked like the cross. But even on that cruel, wretched, and cursed tree, the Christ of God was in total control. “I lay down my life that I may take it up again,” he announced. “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again” (John 10:17–18). For Jonah, for every runaway saint, and for every fugitive sinner, the merciful control of God is that which chases us down in goodness and mercy. “From first to last,” attests Horatius Bonar, “God pursues the sinner as he flies from him; pursues him not in hatred, but in love; pursues him not to destroy, but to pardon and to save” (203). When we run from him, he runs after us.
Works cited:
Horatius Bonar, God’s Way of Peace: A Book for the Anxious (London: James Nisbet & Co., 1864).
Patrick Fairbairn, Jonah: His Life, Character, and Mission (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1980).
Timothy Keller, Rediscovering Jonah: The Secret of God’s Mercy (New York: Penguin Books, 2020).
Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning into Dancing: Moving Through Hard Times With Hope, edited by Timothy Jones (Nashville, TN: Word Publishing, 2001).