Greetje: New page: {{info}}The first to gather, as the sun
Went down next afternoon, was one
Brave lad who hadn't learned the tales
Of Jonah's life. For him, like scales
Fresh falling from his ey...

2008-10-13T12:15:40Z

New page: {{info}}The first to gather, as the sun Went down next afternoon, was one Brave lad who hadn't learned the tales Of Jonah's life. For him, like scales Fresh falling from his ey...

New page

{{info}}The first to gather, as the sun Went down next afternoon, was one Brave lad who hadn't learned the tales Of Jonah's life. For him, like scales Fresh falling from his eyes, were all The words of Jonah's mouth. So small, He thought, was his young mind that he Might miss the truth and lose the key To life. And so, as others sat In Jonah's fruitful garden at The prophet's feet, and waited for His word to fall, this lad was more Aggressive than them all. "May I Please ask, sir, that you clarify. I didn't understand last night Quite what you said. I think I might Have heard you wrong." "How so, young man?" The prophet asked. "Because, I can Imagine being swallowed by A giant fish, and thus to die, But you said that the mouth of death Was your escape. And here, with breath And life, you sit before us now, And I don't understand yet, how It came to be that you could live. So I would love to hear you give The story how you got from in The giant fish's mouth, to win The men of Nineveh for God." The prophet smiled, "It does seem odd That one grave's open mouth should save Me from another's dread. A wave To drown would seem a better wish, Than being eaten by a fish. And yet the path to life is strange, And none can know the kind, or range Of deaths that one must die along The way that leads to life. The song That satisfies the human soul, When nothing tender can console, Is learned beside the grave, or from Within. And knowing both, I've come To see how little difference There is between the two, and whence Bewilderment upon your face, Which has not wept in either place, Because you are so young. But I Will try to tell you how the cry Of my engulfed and dying soul Was taken, like a burning coal From off the altar at the seat Of God, and made into a sweet Aroma there before his face, And how it then unleashed a grace More mighty and more strange Than you could ever dream: to change A great man-eating fish, some three And forty cubits long, to be A saving sepulchre to me." 

"But, Jonah, how did you get free? You said last night, the mouth of death Was your escape. But what of breath? How did you breathe? And you said it Was three days in the acid pit Of that great fish, with no light, I Assume, from sun or moon or by A manmade lamp. Then how did you Discern the passing of those few Dark days, to know that it was three? How could you live or count or see? And even know the fish's length?"

"Young man, you have a certain strength Of mind, I think is rare. What is Your name?" "I'm sorry if I quiz You disrespectfully. By all That lies within me, sir, I call To witness heaven here, that I Count you, beneath the great blue sky, The greatest man on earth." "Well, there Is something greater, son, beware, Than Jonah in this world. Now what's Your name?" "My name's Hosea. Lots Of people call me Hoshee." "What Do you prefer?" "The one I got When I was born." "Me too. Some day You're going to fill that name the way I filled the belly of a fish. And, O, Hosea, I could wish That I were there to see the weight Of love you'll carry in that great And awful mission you will get." The old man wasn't smiling. Yet The boy felt very loved. And then The prophet said, "Hosea, when You hear my story now, don't miss The truth for you in all of this: A prophet's life is not his own; Not one thing comes to pass alone For its own sake, but for the sheep Of Israel, and all who keep The covenant. With fish and wives God writes his ways across our lives.

"You ask me how I got free from The fish, and how I knew the sum Of my three dark and senseless days, And how I breathed, and did appraise The length of that great beast. Well, there's A story here. And many prayers Did make it marvelous.

I do Not know how I could breathe the few Days I was in the fish, except That once, when I awoke and wept My prayer of thanks, there was a space Around my head with air. Just grace, That's all I know. And then I woke Again, and all was still. The stroke Of every slowing pulse-beat gave The signs that this, my living grave, Was almost dead. A spasm in Its throat brought air. And then a thin Bright line appeared. And everything Within me lunged. The sudden sting, As layers of skin peeled off my back And legs, was hardly felt. The crack Of light was like a trumpet, or A bell, or like an unlocked door From death. And when I lunged, the beast, In one last dying act, released His pois'ning prey, and threw me out On sand. I lay there just about In reach of its gigantic head, The largest living thing, now dead, That I had ever seen. My cheek Was torn, my skin looked like a freak: Bleached, peeling, wrinkled, open sores, And stained with reeking bile, and scores Of tiny leeches covered me. "And then a raging thirst, now three Days deepening, reminded me That here on land I might yet be A victim of the sea. The bright And blazing sun was too much light, And burned my eyes. But on The beach, before my mind was gone, I saw a company of men And women watching me. And then With little strength, and in the tongue Of my dear fatherland, I clung To life and cried, 'Help me.' But they Were all afraid. The monster may Be sleeping, and awake to seize Them all. But then, as if with ease And confidence, a single man Came forth, knelt down, and then began To give me water from his sack. He put his arm around my back To hold me up, so I could drink. He looked at me, and then, I think, He smiled, and tears came to his eyes. He put his arm beneath my thighs, And picked me up. Without a sound, He gently carried me around The crowd, and took me to his place. And cared for me. He cleaned my face, And used a kind of meal to take The leeches off my skin, and make The blisters heal. And finally, When days of my insanity Were passed, the gentle stranger said, 'You have been raised up from the dead.' "'How do you speak my language?' I Inquired. 'Because your God Most High Appointed me for this.' 'Do you Believe in Yahweh?' 'Yes, I do. And may his name be praised in all The world.' 'How did you come to call Him Lord? You are a Gentile.' 'You, A prophet, ask me this? A true And faithful prophet surely would Perceive such simple things. And should Not three days in the bowels of death Illumine grace, with every breath A gift? Is this more strange or more Impossible than that a door Of faith should be thrown open by The Lord for Gentiles? Jonah, I For one, believe God would delight In setting free a Ninevite.'

"I trembled at the words he spoke, Could there have been a deeper stroke Against my conscience, raw with guilt? He may as well have struck and spilt My blood. 'How do you know my name? And how do you discern my shame? And whence your knowledge that I spent Three days in that great fish?' 'You went From Joppa on a ship which I Have sailed for many years. And my Great fortune, this time, was to be There when they threw you in the sea. I saw you give your life, and then, I watched your God do what none can, But the Creator God alone: The moment you sank like a stone, The wind and waves were calm. I knelt Beside the rail and prayed, and felt The God of heaven lift the guilt Of all my sin. And there we built An altar, made a sacrifice, And I do thank you for the price You paid that I might come to know Your great and gracious God, although It was not your design, but His.'"

"Wow," said the lad, "I think that is The greatest thing I ever heard. So, Jonah, even when you erred, And had no plan for good at all, God had a gracious plan to call A Ninevite and make him free, Who lived near Joppa by the sea!"

"That's right, Hosea, and I wish That one death in a giant fish Were all it took to make me see And savor what God meant to be. But sin is deep and I was not So quick to get what you have got At once. God make your love to burn The way I was so slow to learn. Tomorrow night, if you come back, I'll take you from that little shack Near Joppa by the sea, and show You what God did to make me know And love his ways. Till then, good night."

And now let candle two give light To this: the path to life is strange, And none can know the kind, or range Of deaths that one must die, along The way that leads to life. The song That satisfies the human soul, When nothing tender can console, Is learned beside the grave, or from Within. And knowing both, we've come To see how little difference There is between the two, and whence Bewilderment upon the face, Which has not wept in either place. But for the rest, the years make plain: To lose is life, to die is gain.

Jonah, Part 2 - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}The first to gather, as the sunWent down next afternoon, was oneBrave lad who hadn't learned the talesOf Jonah's life. For him, like scalesFresh falling from his ey...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}The first to gather, as the sun
Went down next afternoon, was one
Brave lad who hadn't learned the tales
Of Jonah's life. For him, like scales
Fresh falling from his ey...