Jonah’s Learning Curve

The story of Jonah depicts God performing several roles.  He pursues and disciplines Jonah, not unlike a drill sergeant punishing a stubborn recruit, for refusing to carry out orders.  He shows mercy to the Assyrian citizens of Nineveh like a kind parent giving straying children another chance.  He acts at the end of the tale as a teacher. First He causes a gourd to grow and give shade to Jonah. Second He allows a worm to destroy the gourd.  When Jonah mourns the death of the plant and complains about his subsequent discomfort, God asks him to consider the following question:  if Jonah feels grief for a lost plant, isn’t it fitting for God to mourn a lost people? God teaches Jonah compassion by giving him loss. 

I feel some sympathy for Jonah.  God called on him to minister to implacable enemies of Jonah’s people.  The prophet would have directly encountered their aggression or would have known family and friends who suffered at their hands.  He would have developed a justified fear of and loathing for those now targeted for forgiveness and reconciliation.  And to add insult to injury, Jonah would act as the instrument of their salvation.  I’d complain if I were a child forced by a parent to share toys with the neighborhood bully.  If Dad wanted to be kind to a punk, couldn’t he himself go out to give a new football to Johnny?

I’ve faced situations where my evident duty ran counter to my comfort and inclinations.  On some occasions, I balked and fled.  I reasoned that someone else would pick up the slack.  On two notable occasions, however, I bowed to the inevitable.  A “hand of God” feeling accompanied each of these moments.  I got the direct and inarguable impression that I wouldn’t even make it to the boat much less end up in the belly of a whale.  Both times the message seemed to say, “Don’t even bother to squirm.  You’re going to do this.”

Some believe that our lives are prewritten before we come to earth, that we have missions to fulfill. We’re not aware of the plan, however, and have wiggle room to make a few decisions.  Jonah’s flight from his task, in this view, was just a temporary delay that led to fear and misery.  I’m not sure I agree completely with this conception.

I think that we come to this world with pre-set patterns that invite certain choices, that create issues we eventually must face and resolve.  I might run away from a conflict, but similar ones will follow.  An example:  if I’m born with a short fuse, then I’ll face countless situations inviting me to learn how to control my temper.  In this belief system, God is a teacher setting up exercises for our benefit.  Similarly, after I teach students the principles of perspective, I give them assignments forcing them to apply that knowledge.  They only learn how to draw a building correctly by trying to draw a building.  It would be easier for them if I just lectured on the subject and took their word that they understood the material.  But real progress can only be made by putting knowledge into practice.

It takes courage to sign up for this life course.  An Indian guru advises his followers to face misfortune, not by complaining about the injustice of life, but by considering themselves brave.  They’ve shown their mettle by volunteering for difficult but rewarding lessons.

Winter Seasons (Learning Gratitude)

Winter seasons have often tempted me to long for things I didn’t have.  A cold, northerly breeze made me yearn for summer (or a thicker coat).  A dateless Valentine’s Day inspired hunger for companionship and tenderness.  Dim light and bare trees made me long for color. 

Times of scarcity, no matter what form the deprivation takes, can make me forget to savor the gifts that remain.  I focus so much on what’s gone missing that I become blind to subtle joys.  Anyone who has recovered from a long illness can attest to the unexpected thrill of being able to take a walk, to cook a meal and do the laundry without assistance.  A period where something basic is denied makes the simplest blessings stand out in sharp relief.

I know that life would be easier if I could skip past the harsh lessons that eventually teach me gratitude.  A more proactive approach would be to nurture thankfulness in all circumstances.  Then the inevitable misfortunes, the heavy tolls we pay as we journey through life, would probably sting a bit less.

I doubt that I’ll ever succeed in turning into a Pollyanna always looking on the bright side.  And I wouldn’t advocate that everyone, especially those who naturally follow the Path of Eeyore, should force themselves into becoming cheery backslappers.  I believe, however, that taking time during a crisis to find brief nurturing moments can be an act of mercy.  Mercy to ourselves and others.  When a load of pressure builds up on my shoulders, when I start snapping at the least irritation, I know that I need a gratitude break.  And if nothing in my immediate surroundings inspires thankfulness, then I must make a blessing of my own.  Stopping to pray, taking a nature walk, listening to beautiful music, sipping a good cup of coffee aren’t indulgences during hard times.

And if these remedies fail to bring relief, then it helps to recall that I am a child of God.  I may feel stranded in misery, but I’m not an orphan lost in a storm…I once described a visit to a dying man to a friend of mine.  I marveled that a person suffering from a terminal disease could smile, tell jokes and swap stories.  My friend answered, “He knew where he was going.”  Home.