Jonah

GOD went down to the water. He stood on the shores of the sea and called; like the voice of the storm a name rolled forth from those august lips across the deep. And the deeps trembled. Presently a commotion took place in the waters; wet and black the huge form of Leviathan rose gleaming from the sea, and floated obediently before its God.

The Lord spoke, and the whale listened. After He had explained the situation, God said:

“I foresee that Jonah will not go to Nineveh as I command. He will attempt to flee from Me, and he will choose the sea as the best means of escape. It will not help him. I shall raise a storm upon the waters, and the ignorant sailors will cast him overboard as a sacrifice to the gods of the storm. That is where you can be of assistance to Me, My old friend. As he sinks through the water, I wish you to advance upon him, and swallow him.”

“Ak,” said the whale; “O my.”

“Well,” said God impatiently, “what is the matter?”

The great fish blew a misty spray of water into the air. “It is impossible,” he declared; “in the first place, I should choke to death.”

“You are an ignorant creature,” said God; “you have neither faith, nor science. Let Me tell you a few things about yourself in the light of future exegesis. Know then, that you are a cetacean, or whalebone type of whale. Such animals obtain their food by swimming on or near the surface of the water, with their jaws open.”

“That is true,” said the whale, reverent and amazed.

“The screen of whalebone,” continued the Lord, “opens inward, and admits solid objects to the animal’s mouth. This screen does not allow the egress of any solid matter, only of water. As the gullet is very small, only the smallest objects can pass down it.

“Jonah will therefore be imprisoned in your mouth. You cannot swallow him; and he cannot get out, because of the screen of whalebone.”

“Then he will suffocate,” said the whale.

“Nonsense,” said God. “Remember that you are an air-breathing, warm-blooded animal, and can only dive because of the reservoir of air in your mouth. When this air becomes unfit to breathe, you must rise to the surface for a fresh supply.

“While you have air to breathe, Jonah will have it also.

“So do not hesitate any longer, but do as you are told.”

The whale heaved a deep sigh; his breath groaned through the ocean, causing many smaller fish, terrified, to flee with trembling fins.

“How horrid for me,” he exclaimed.

God replied soothingly, “It will assure you a place in history.”

So saying, the Lord blessed Leviathan, who sank sadly back to the depths of the sea; and, turning from the shore, the Light of Israel rolled like thunder across the valleys toward Golan.

The night came to meet Him from the east, pouring down over the hills like smoke. In the cold night air God went to look for Jonah.

Poor Jonah, he had not found peace after all. The lonely desert, so calm and quiet in the past, had given no rest to his thoughts. His mind went back over and over again to those days at home; he felt the wonder of the love-night, his heart shrank again with sickness for what followed. And he asked himself for the thousandth time how such things could be. Then he cried out against Judith for her cruelty; yet the next moment he forgave her.

And these thoughts, climbing and falling wearily up and down through his head, kept him awake until long after the desert was asleep. In the morning, when he awoke, it was with regret; he tried to sleep a little longer, to keep his eyes closed, to keep from thinking again ... why wake at all? he wondered. There was nothing to wake to. Only the hot sun over the desert, only his heavy heart, which grew no lighter as the days went by.

Why wake at all?

God found him sitting wearily upon a rock, his head bowed between his hands. The Lord spoke, and the desert was silent.

“Jonah,” said God in a voice like a great wave breaking, slowly, and with the peace of the sea, “Jonah, you have wept enough.”

Jonah replied simply, “I have been waiting for You a long while, and I am very tired.”

“I had not forgotten you,” said God; “I have been thinking.”

And He added, “Now I have something for you to do.”

Jonah remained seated without looking up. He seemed no longer to care what God had for him to do.

“Arise, Jonah,” said God, “and go to Nineveh. Cry out against that great city for its sins.”

But Jonah looked more dejected than ever. “What have I to do with Nineveh?” he asked. “Am I prophet to the Assyrians? I am a Jew. Do not mock me, Lord.”

“I do not mock you,” said God gravely. “Go, then, and do My bidding.”

And as Jonah did not reply, he added sadly, “Do you still doubt Me?”

Jonah rose slowly to his feet. His eyes blazed, and his hands were tightly clenched. “Oh,” he cried bitterly, all the passion in his heart storming out at last in a torrent of despair, “You ... what are You God of? Were You God of Israel when a Tyrian stole my love? Was I Your prophet then? Have You power over Tyre, that You let Your servant suffer such anguish? Or are You God of the desert, where the demons mock me night and day, where the very stones cry out against me, and the whole night is noisy with laughter? Nineveh ... Nineveh ... in whose name shall I cry out against Nineveh? Do the gods of Assur visit their wrath upon Jerusalem? What power have You in Nineveh? For my youth which I gave You, what have You given me? How have You returned my love, with what sorrow? What have You done to me, Lord? I stand in the darkness, weary, and with a heavy heart. What are You God of? Answer: what are You God of?”

And God answered gently, “I am your God, Jonah, and where you go, there you will find Me.”

Jonah sank down upon the rock again. His passion had exhausted him; but he was not convinced. “Well,” he said in a whisper, “You are not God in Nineveh, and I will not go.”

Then the wrath of the Lord, slow to start, flamed for a moment over the desert, and Jonah cowered to earth while the heavens groaned and the ground shook with fright. And in his hole by the pool in the Land of Tob, the little fox said to himself, “Jonah is talking to God.”

But God’s anger passed, leaving Him sad and holy.

“Peace unto you, Jonah,” He said in tones of divine sweetness; “take up your task, and doubt Me no more.”

And He returned to heaven in a cloud. Overcome with weariness, empty of passion, Jonah fell asleep upon the ground.

No jackals laughed that night. Silence brooded over the desert. The stars kept watch without a sound, and Jonah slept with a quiet heart.