16. Jonah and the Minor Prophets: AWarning, aWhale, and aWhore
16
JONAH AND THE MINOR PROPHETS
A Warning, a Whale, and a Whore
Thejustshalllivebyfaith. These words heralded the Reformation—Martin Luther quoting the apostle Paul, who himself was quoting the obscure Minor Prophet Habakkuk of centuries earlier.[1] When Herod inquired of the chief priests and scribes as to where the Christ would be born, they answered by quoting another of the Minor Prophets, Micah: “In Bethlehem in Judea.”[2]
In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus’ death (and resurrection) is prefigured by 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.”[3] The prophet Joel pointed to a day when sons and daughters would prophesy, and Peter repeated his prophecy on the day of Pentecost:
In the last days, God says,
I will pour out my Spirit on all people. . . .
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
. . . both men and women. . . .
I will show wonders in the heavens above
and signs on the earth below,
blood and fire and billows of smoke.
The sun will be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood
before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord.
And everyone who calls
on the name of the Lord will be saved.”[4]
The Minor Prophets should not be regarded as lesser than the Major Prophets—farm-team prophets in the minor leagues waiting for a break to make it into big-league prophecy. Their writings were shorter than those of the Major Prophets, but what they said was no less significant or insightful. Nor were their lives less colorful. Jonah flees the face of God and gets stuck in the belly of a fish. Hosea marries a prostitute. Amos has visions of swarming locusts and devouring fire, and compares rich, highborn ladies to a herd of heifers.
Prophets, whether Major or Minor, were not part of any clerical hierarchy (with the possible exception of Ezekiel, who was a priest). They did not have official titles or ranking, as did the king and those in his court, or as did judges or priests. Prophets were independent—no popes or bishops or denominational leaders among them. Their authority was derived directly from God, a tradition that has a long lineage throughout church history and to the present day.
Not all of the Minor Prophets emerge from the text with fascinating personal lives. In fact most of them are obscure characters with few biographical details attached to their writing. Men like Joel, Obadiah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, and Zechariah almost seem to hide behind their words. This is not entirely true, however, with Jonah, Hosea, Amos, and Haggai.
Obadiah is in the shadows but for a very short prophetic work (the shortest Old Testament book). His focus is the punishment of the Edomites, descendants of Esau. Micah is a contemporary of Isaiah, and his writings are similar. His most memorable lines are: “What does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”[5] Nahum prophesies the downfall of Assyria’s capital city, Nineveh. Habakkuk wonders aloud about God’s justice, especially when God seems to turn a blind eye to evildoers, letting them get off scot-free.
God’s judgment on all people is the theme of Zephaniah’s prophecy. Zechariah, through visions and divine messages, preaches repentance and justice to the postexilic Jews. He encourages them and their governor Zerubbabel to continue the rebuilding of the Temple, despite intense opposition. Malachi, whose prophecy brings a finale to the Old Testament, speaks against corruption among religious leaders and the spiritual malaise among the people in general. Although the people weep and wail, they do not demonstrate the zeal for God they once had. But there is hope. The day of the Lord is coming: “I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the LORD comes.”[6]
Jonah is everyone’s favorite prophet. He doesn’t rant and rave. He is not the voice of righteousness railing at sinners. Far from it. Rather, he is the sinner himself, running from God. Through the ages, those feeling the weight of the call of God have identified with him. He is a prophet that even young children understand and appreciate. That he is swallowed by a great fish has only added to his superstar status.
Jonah: A Runaway Prophet
He is a singular biblical character. From Moses to Jeremiah, others have resisted God’s call and insisted they were not up to the task. Job angrily argued with God, demanding to know why and where God was hiding. But Jonah alone runs away and hides from God.
Jonah, the son of Amittai, hails from the small town of Gath Hepher, near Nazareth. He boldly takes God’s message to Jereboam II, the king of Israel, who then “restored the boundaries of Israel from Lebo Hamath to the Dead Sea.”[7] That he could go up against a powerful king speaks to his effectiveness as a servant of God.
But on another occasion he is simply minding his own business when, from out of the blue, he hears God telling him to go and preach to the people of Nineveh. Nineveh, of all places—the capital city of Assyria, Israel’s archenemy. Why would God want him to expend any energy on a preaching assignment to such wicked foreigners?
He might have stayed put, imagining the command is merely a figment of his imagination. But he is so sure of this demand on his life that he flees his home in an effort to escape God. He heads for the seaport of Joppa and boards a ship for Tarshish, way across the Mediterranean in Spain, as far away from God as he thinks he can get. On board ship he is mingling among the rowdy sailors, somehow thinking that God would never bother to look for him there.
Everything is going as planned. He hides himself away below deck. After a nerve-wracking flight, he is exhausted and needs some shut-eye. Indeed, so soundly does he sleep that he is entirely oblivious to the swelling sea and the storm clouds gathering in the distance. Nor does he awaken when the wind picks up and the waves begin pummeling the ship. Before long the breakers are pitching over the entire vessel as the storm surges. The helpless craft is about to capsize in the raging waters. This is more than your ordinary storm—so say the sailors. It’s the vengeance of the gods. The crew is frantically pleading with their deities to spare their ship, while at the same time attempting to save themselves by throwing the cargo overboard.
And Jonah sleeps on. He awakens abruptly as he is shaken to his senses by the rough grip of the ship’s captain, more than a little agitated by Jonah’s absence of alarm. The captain screams at him to get up and do something—do anything—to try to save the ship. What’s wrong with him? Doesn’t he care? Everyone else is on deck. Pray to your god! the captain bellows. Tell him to call off the storm.
When Jonah is hauled up on deck, he faces a scene almost reminiscent of Survivor. The ship is about to sink, and the deckhands are in a panic trying to save it, all the while imploring their deities and trying to figure out which one of them is guilty of enraging his god. Jonah himself is accused, and—no surprise—he comes up short when they resort to the ancient practice of casting lots. He is responsible, they determine, for their predicament, and it is up to him to get them out of this fix. They pound him with questions: What crime has he committed? Where does he live? What are his family connections?
Jonah’s only response is: “I am a Hebrew and I worship the LORD, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land.”[8] The crew panics. They have heard about the Hebrew God. They demand to know how Jonah has so offended him. When they learn he is running away from God, they are beside themselves, trying to figure out a way to appease this supernatural being.
Then Jonah speaks again. In the midst of the howling wind and towering waves, he offers a solution. He wants them to throw him overboard because his sin has caused the storm. That is the only way to calm the sea.
To throw someone overboard because they are running from God just doesn’t seem right. Surely the sailors must have thought of their own lives in comparison. They are reluctant to do it, but the violent winds and waves are battering the boat so badly they cannot even row. They are doomed. They try praying to Jonah’s God, but the storm only gets worse. So after a most hasty conference, they take his advice and hurl him into the swirling dark waters.
Jonah and the great fish
The moment he hits the water, the seas become calm. It is eerie. Jonah surely senses the change as well, convinced that God has obviously tracked him down. What he does not know is that the sailors are so much in awe of his God that they begin offering sacrifices to him.
As for Jonah, he is suddenly engulfed in utter blackness. Here he is paddling around on the calm Mediterranean, and suddenly his world goes dark and squishy—and gross. He’s struggling to free himself, only to discover he is trapped. There is no escape. He is engulfed in slime. Indeed, for three long days and nights he is encased in a digestive system that isn’t digesting him. He desperately flails about, but to no avail. He is in his grave, entombed and awaiting an agonizing death, never expecting to see the light of day.
But in this intestinal tomb, Jonah, in utter desperation, remembers God. Of all things. If all else fails, maybe God could come to his rescue. He cries from “out of the belly of hell,”[9] pleading with God to give him one more chance. And then the drama ends as quickly as it began. God hears him and causes the fish to vomit—to hurl him up on the shore. In an instant Jonah finds himself covered with sand and slime, crawling on the beach, getting to his feet none the worse for his harrowing experience.
How had this happened so suddenly? What moved God to rescue him? Jonah shakes himself off, remembers what has happened, and gives thanks to God:
From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,
and you listened to my cry.
You hurled me into the depths,
into the very heart of the seas,
and the currents swirled about me;
all your waves and breakers
swept over me. . . .
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,
to your holy temple.[10]
But hardly has he finished his song of praise and gotten his bearings when he hears the voice of God again. He is ordered for the second time to go to Nineveh and call the people to repentance. This time he obeys. Greatly preferring the big-city life of Nineveh to the belly of a big fish, he goes there straightaway. His message, though lacking fiery rhetoric, is forthright: “In forty days Nineveh will be smashed.”[11] It’s not the kind of message he likes to deliver; he’s heard it before from prophet after prophet. These types are not popular. People ridicule them and worse.
To Jonah’s astonishment, however, these foreigners are attentive. They actually believe what he is saying. Indeed, the whole population takes part in a revival—confessing their sins, fasting and praying. Even the king publicly repents of his sins. In fact, he issues an edict that requires everyone to worship Jonah’s God. Through Jonah’s preaching, Nineveh is spared.
Is Jonah ecstatic with the results? No other preacher has ever seen such success. He will be the headliner on the preaching circuit. No. This is hardly his reaction. In fact, he pouts and is downright depressed. More than that, he spouts off to God, sneering that he knew all along that God would back down and not exterminate Nineveh. That’s exactly why he didn’t want to go there in the first place—precisely why he ended up tangled in the entrails of a fish. God, he rails, is way too easygoing with his mercy and grace.
Jonah preaching to the Ninevites
Jonah is so upset that he won’t even listen to God’s point of view. Rather, he heads out to the edge of town in a major funk. He refuses to join in the revival that is still on fire in the city, hoping it will quickly fizzle. He is wandering around in the heat of a sizzling day, wishing he could get his old life back. He sits down to rest under a small, primitive shelter. But as he is sitting there, a wonderful, shady vine springs up almost before his eyes. Not realizing this is an object lesson from God, he sits back and relaxes, imagining his good fortune is just a wonder of nature.
But just as quickly as the vine grows and leafs out, it shrivels into almost nothing—the work of a voracious worm. By morning the tree is of no use, and the blistering sun sucks the energy right out of him. He begs God to simply let him shrivel up and die. God is not done with Jonah, however. God has provided this object lesson to make Jonah recognize his misplaced anger. God clarifies to Jonah that he has no right to get angry about a tree that he had no part in upkeeping. It is God’s call whether it lives or dies, even as it is for Nineveh, with its “hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left,” plus all the animals.[12] So there, Jonah! God is in control.
Here in the scorching desert is where the recorded life of Jonah ends.
Hosea: A Cuckolded Prophet
There is a first time for everything. The first time a prophet hears the voice of God is no doubt memorable. For Hosea the message is astonishing—not the kind of message he would expect if he were anticipating a word from God. But from out of the blue, as sure as the sun rises in the morning dawn, the command comes loud and clear: “Find a whore and marry her.” Huh? That’s the only response Hosea could have offered. But the voice continues: “Make this whore the mother of your children.”[13]
This is no prank. Israel had long been whoring after other gods, and Hosea is chosen to act out the metaphorical object lesson. God has utilized object lessons before, as when Isaiah was told to walk naked through the streets for three years. Now God wants to demonstrate the distress of marrying a trashy woman and then continuing to live with her when she becomes an unfaithful wife (as Israel is). Hosea is the man for the job.
The son of Beeri, Hosea prophesies during the reigns of Judah’s kings Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah; but his message is aimed primarily at the Northern Kingdom (often referred to as Ephraim) under King Jereboam II, son of Joash. He wastes no time in carrying out God’s marching orders. He chooses for his wife Diblaim’s daughter Gomer, a harlot. Soon she is pregnant and bears a son, whom God names Jezreel. Pregnant again, she gives birth to a daughter, who, at God’s instruction, is named No-Mercy. Her third child, a boy, is named Nobody.
As God’s object lesson, Hosea is the cuckolded husband. Speaking for God and Israel, he laments about Gomer, who is “dressing like a whore, displaying her breasts for sale . . . bringing bastard children into the world.” Amid his anger with his wife and her bastard children, Hosea hears another message from God: “Start all over: Love your wife again, your wife who’s in bed with her latest boyfriend, your cheating wife. Love her the way I, GOD, love the Israelite people, even as they flirt and party with every god that takes their fancy.”[14]
Everyday Life
Prostitution
God instructs Hosea to marry a prostitute. Rahab, who gave refuge in Jericho to Israelite spies and who was among those honored as ancestors of Jesus, was a prostitute. Judah, thinking the veiled woman was a prostitute, had sex with Tamar, his daughter-in-law. Had she not been his daughter-in-law, the incident would have gone unnoticed. Samson, a judge in Israel, traveled to Gaza, where he utilized the services of a prostitute.
Prostitution was obviously not unknown among the Hebrews of the Old Testament. Yahweh did not sanction prostitution, however. Indeed, harlotry was the negative concept most often used for Israel’s unfaithfulness to the Lord. And Hosea’s marriage to a harlot illustrated that very sin.
Yet there was a guarded acceptance of prostitution among the Israelites. When two prostitutes came to King Solomon seeking justice, he gave his verdict without passing judgment on their profession—and lifestyle. Prostitution was taken for granted, while at the same time it warranted Yahweh’s disapproval.
But poor Gomer passed from man to man, until at last she fell into the hands of a man who was unable to pay for her food and her clothing. Her first lover had given her a mink stole, but this one made her clothe herself from the Goodwill store. News of her miserable state came to the prophet and he sought out the man she was living with. He knew where he would find him, down at the local tavern, and when he met this man, the conversation may have gone something like this. “Are you the man who is living with Gomer, daughter of Diblaim?” The man must have said, “If it’s any of your business, I am.” Hosea said, “Well, I am Hosea, her husband.” A tense moment followed. But the man said, “What do you want? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Hosea said, “Listen, I’m not interested in causing any trouble. But I know that you are having difficulty making ends meet. I want you to take this money and buy Gomer some clothing and see that she has plenty of food. If you need any more I will give it to you.” The man probably must have thought, “There’s no fool like an old fool. If this sucker wants to help pay her expenses, that’s all right with me.” So he took the money and bought her some groceries and went home.
Now you may say, “That’s a foolish thing for a man to do.” But who can explain the madness of love?
Hosea actually has to make a purchase—the cost of a slave—in order to ransom her from her lover. He insists that from now on she must be faithful to him alone, but if she is like God’s people, give her time and she will be whoring around again. Such are the messages that Hosea offers the people: “No one is faithful.” They’re all guilty of every sin imaginable, including “loose sex”—“a life of rutting with whores.” Israel is a land of debauchery—“a bunch of overheated adulterers . . . red-hot with lust,” trying to bring Judah down as well.[15]
As God’s object lesson, Hosea pleads for God’s people even as he pleads for his harlot wife, begging them to return to God. God loves them and is willing to start all over with them, even as Hosea will make a fresh start with his wife.
Amos: A Sheep-Herding Prophet
Like many of the other prophets, Amos served as God’s mouthpiece prior to the time of the exile. He is a contemporary of Isaiah, and he hears God’s call during the reign of Uzziah, king of Judah, and Jeroboam II, king of Israel. He is not a professional prophet—not counted among the guild of prophets.
Amos is first introduced as a shepherd from Tekoa, a dozen miles south of Jerusalem. His ministry might have lasted a few days or a week—probably no longer than a year or two.
His testimony is straightforward: “I never set up to be a preacher, never had plans to be a preacher. I raised cattle and I pruned trees. Then GOD took me off the farm and said, ‘Go preach to my people Israel.’”[16] Though he does not consider himself to be a career prophet, he is secure in his vocation and will not be silenced. God, he declares, does not send out prophets willy-nilly.
The message God gives Amos is a thundering judgment—in poetic form, no less—against the surrounding nations. But the primary focus is on the Northern Kingdom. Despite one warning after another, the people have paid no attention. God has sent famine, indeed, to the point that people are lined up for bread. God has stopped the rain and so severely parched the land that the people are dying of thirst. But amid all this suffering they have never hungered or thirsted after God.
Although Amos hails from Judah, God calls him to leave and go to the shrine at Bethel, a center of idolatry, and there to prophesy against Israel—most notably against King Jeroboam II. Indeed, rumor has it that Amos is plotting the king’s downfall. When the resident priest, Amaziah, warns the king, and then orders Amos to get out of Israel, Amos pays no heed. Rather, he slaps him in the face with a message directly from God:
Your wife will become a whore in town.
Your children will get killed.
Your land will be auctioned off.
You will die homeless and friendless.
And Israel will be hauled off to exile, far from home.[17]
Amaziah is surely no friend of Amos, who, in a flurry of sarcasm, targets the phony religiosity of the people of that region. Bethel is merely a showplace that beneath the surface is rotten to the core.
These are surely not the only harsh words Amos preaches. He castigates the people for their taking bribes and for failing to care for the poor. In fact, his tone is downright nasty at times, avoiding any attempt at political correctness. To the rich ladies, he does not mince words:
Listen to this, you cows of Bashan
grazing on the slopes of Samaria.
You women! Mean to the poor,
cruel to the down-and-out!
Indolent and pampered, you demand of your husbands,
“Bring us a tall, cool drink!”[18]
Some of his direction from God comes in the form of object-lesson visions. One such vision is a massive swarm of locusts that eats all the crops before they can be harvested. Another vision is of a firestorm so hot that it burns up the ocean. Still another is of God standing by a wall with a plumb line, signifying that Israel does not stand straight according to a true measure of righteousness.
His summary of creation is picturesque: “Look who’s here: Mountain-Shaper! Wind-Maker! He laid out the whole plot before Adam. He brings everything out of nothing, like dawn out of darkness. He strides across the alpine ridges. His name is GOD . . .”[19]
Yet for all the judgment and doom and gloom heaped upon the wayward Israelites, Amos also prophesies God’s restoration of David’s line, the rebuilding of the nation, and the blessings to be poured out from God’s bounty.
How Amos meets his end is not recorded, but two years after he prophesies the exile of Israel to a faraway land, there is a great earthquake—so serious and frightening that entire populations flee their hometowns.
Haggai: A Prophetic Plea for Temple Rebuilding
He appears on the scene and then vanishes, with no record of his ancestry or hometown.
He preaches in Jerusalem some seventy years after the exile began, but his ministry spans only four months. He had apparently stayed behind in Jerusalem, because his name is not listed among those who returned from Babylon. His message is terse and focused—two chapters of biblical text. One theme only: rebuild the Temple.
Unlike many other prophets, who preached out in the streets for all the people to hear, Haggai delivers his first prophecy to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, and Joshua, the high priest. His first words from God comprise no more than two sentences, pointing out that the people are slackers. They keep putting off the rebuilding of the Temple.
The governor and the priest are not very enthusiastic about this construction job, but they apparently transmit Haggai’s message to the people, who make the classic excuse—something like: Sure we’ll rebuild the Temple, but the time is just not right. Haggai’s rejoinder is biting. He accuses them of being more concerned about fixing up their homes than about repairing God’s Temple, which lies in ruins.
The people continue to make excuses, so Haggai presses harder, telling them to look at their own lives and ask themselves what they have accomplished. They have all the money and food and drink and clothing they could want, but they have little to show for it. So, he prods them to get busy—to go out into the hills and cut timber for the Temple.
The Temple is not for show, he insists. It is a house for God, and rebuilding it is the least the people should be doing for God, who has been faithful to them. But instead they spend their time building equity in their own homes. As a result God’s Temple is no more than a pile of debris. They ought to be ashamed of themselves. And by the way, he sneers, if they are wondering why they have been suffering so long without rain, he has the answer from God. No rains will come until they get back to work on the Temple.
That gets their attention. Now the matter is hitting their pocketbooks, where it hurts. So Zerubbabel and Joshua gather all the people, determined to hear exactly what Haggai has to say. Indeed, they actually pay attention to a prophet for once. They honor both God and his prophet. He asks them if anyone was around to see the Temple back in the days of its glory—perhaps a rhetorical question.
In fact, he may have been one of the few in the crowd who had actually seen and remembered the magnificence of the Temple some seventy years earlier. He wants them to build a structure even more glorious, and now is the time to do it. Within three weeks, the people get to work, and the rain comes. Haggai is there to prod them on with encouragement. The people continue working, and the Temple is rebuilt, but Haggai’s ministry is over. His singular message has been heeded. There is nothing more to say.
The message of Haggai may seem entirely irrelevant to a modern-day audience, but ministers through the centuries have laid claim to his message when a church building project needs to be pushed through.
Concluding Observations
The neglect of the Minor Prophets is unfortunate. Their words were meant primarily for their contemporaries, but they are words that echo through the centuries, spoken by individuals whose issues often parallel our own.
Haggai’s message is loud and clear for every generation. Self-centered greed is not the way of the Lord. But his message is not the only one of the Minor Prophets that is relevant today. Amos’s brusqueness is applicable in an era when political correctness rules. He calls it like it is, without concern for the tender feelings of the rich and powerful. He is sick and tired of one seminar after another; he wants action.
Hosea’s prophecy is also relevant, though marrying a wayward prostitute may not be the best means of conveying a warning in today’s culture. The object lesson, however, powerfully communicates a vital message. In a contemporary situation, that may mean being vulnerable about one’s own failures in seeking to minister to others with similar issues. In Hosea’s case, he was showing people how God’s heart aches when his bride is unfaithful.
Jonah’s relevance for today goes without saying. How easy it is in an era of tempting alternatives to avoid God’s work and flee to the greener pastures of Tarshish. And what an apt image of humankind he portrays: sulking alone in the blazing sun when things do not go his way.
The lives and the messages of the Minor Prophets easily make us uncomfortable. That is the way it should be. We often imagine God to be a conveyor of comfort only. But God also conveys discomfort, as is seen in the words and actions of these men. Their messages also pave the way for New Testament events. Micah’s words flow seamlessly to the occasion of Mary’s childbirth: “But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.”[20] Zechariah and Haggai call for the rebuilding of the Temple, a worship center that would have profound significance in the new faith of the first century.
Further Reading
Feinberg, Charles L. The Minor Prophets. Chicago: Moody Press, 1990.
McComiskey, Thomas Edward. The Minor Prophets: An Exegetical and Expository Commentary. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2009.
Morgan, G. Campbell. The Minor Prophets: The Men and Their Messages. Fleming Revell, 1955.