Greetje: New page: {{info}}Hosea's father let the boy
Return to Jonah's place. The joy
The lad brought home was so much more
Than he had ever shown before,
His father felt he couldn't hold
Him...

Greetje — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 12:22:53 GMT

New page: {{info}}Hosea's father let the boy Return to Jonah's place. The joy The lad brought home was so much more Than he had ever shown before, His father felt he couldn't hold Him...

New page

{{info}}Hosea's father let the boy Return to Jonah's place. The joy The lad brought home was so much more Than he had ever shown before, His father felt he couldn't hold Him back. It's good to be consoled, He thought, by what the prophet speaks, Since it had only been six weeks Since Hoshee's mother left them for Another man. The boy lay on the floor Of their small house and wept for days, And then would sit outside, and gaze Across the Sea of Chinnereth Into a sorrow worse than death. That other man had traveled through Gath-Hepher many times to do His business on the coast, and then Return to somewhere eastward, when His work was done. And he would stay The night just down the lane, and prey On women with their water jars, And leave behind him life-long scars. And then one day his mom was gone. A neighbor said, "To see the dawn Of life and not the sunset of A tanner's wife." Hosea's love Was shattered into pieces now, And Beeri hugged his son, somehow If possible, to prove that he Was loved with bonds of loyalty Beyond his mother's wanderings. For weeks, there were no common things That held his interest. But then He found his way, with older men, To Jonah's garden on the hill. And there he heard the stories fill The prophet's mouth, and tasted grace Again, and learned that on its face, It may not be a lovely thing, Or light, but may oblige the sting Of death, but in the end is good, And turns the tendrils into wood. And if it must, will scorch with fire The hateful part of our desire. 

"You said, sir, that if I came back Tonight, you'd take me from the shack Near Joppa by the sea, and show Me what God did to make you know And love his ways. And so I'm back, And I would love to trace the track You followed from the fish's mouth Near Joppa on the beach down south, To Nineveh, and how you came Back here a diff'rent man."

"The fame That I will have, young man, in years To come, will not be for my tears Of sorrow over how much pain It took to purge the ugly stain Of hate out of my callous soul. I am a different man. The bowl Of wrath I would have poured on that Great city, God did make a vat Of boiling mercy for my sin, And cast me into it. And in That fierce and cleansing clemency, At last, did make me feel and see His ways, which are as high above My own as is the flying dove Above the crawling snake. But I, Perhaps like Moses on Mount Nebo high, Will be remembered for a slow And stubborn heart, and I will go Down into history still hard And murmuring at grace, and marred With bitterness, in spite of all God's sweet affliction of my gall."

"What more affliction, Jonah, than The belly of a fish? No man Can live after he dies, can he, And not be purified and free? God saved you from the death of your Defiance. Was it not the cure Of your hostility?" "I said Last night that, though I once was dead, And then I lived again, one death Was not enough. And though my breath, And everything, was grace, my heart Was like a stone in that one part Where should have been a love for the Assyrians. God had to be, Therefore, my enemy again, And war against my evil when I got to Nineveh." "But why, If you were bad, did you comply When God said go? Was that not good?" "Hosea, doing what you should Is more than outward form. God sent Me there to preach, and so I went, Afraid, this time to run away. But every time I said, 'The Day Of God is near, repent,' I thought, 'Almighty God knows why he brought Me here, and so do I. The Lord Is slow to anger now. The sword Will not be drawn. And he is full Of steadfast love, and makes like wool The scarlet sin of all he smites With mercy, even of the Ninevites.' And that is what he did." "You mean That they repented, Jonah?" "Clean From top to bottom: from the slave Up to the king. They even gave Their beasts no food, and everyone Obeyed the king who said, 'Be done With violence, and cry to God; He may relent and spare his rod Of wrath that we might live.'

"You know, My son, he did just that. And so The bowl of wrath that I held in My heart, and ready to begin The judgment, simmered there, unspent, With rage that my God should repent, And even turn on me." "How did He turn on you?" "I left, and rid Myself of every residue Of dust, and waited there to view From eastern hills what would befall The city. There God made a tall And leafy plant grow over me To give me shade." "And you could see It grow up in a day?" "It grew Up in a single night." "Did you Feel safe?" "About as safe as in A ship upon a sea of sin, And bound from Joppa to the west. It was a poor and fleeting rest. There are no giant fish outside Of Nineveh to eat the pride Of prophets in their ease, but there Are worms and wind, and when and where He please, God orders them and makes Them do his bidding. If he takes No pleasure in my callous mind And heart, then there will be assigned A worm, and so there was, to slay The leafy plant and take away My shade. And then he blasted me With sultry wind until with three Small words I cursed the brazen sky: And spoke to heaven, 'Let me die!' "And God said, 'Jonah, are you mad About the plant? Do you feel bad That it is dead? It came up in A single night, in spite of sin. You did not labor here, or make It grow, nor was it for your sake. But this great city that you hate, This Nineveh, I did create, And I have made it grow along The Tigris River here, and strong, To do what it was meant to do, Before there ever was a Jew. And should I not take pity now On twelve ten thousands with a vow To leave their sin, and trust in me? And if you have no sympathy For these, perhaps your feeling yields To all the cattle in the fields.'"

"What happened then?" the boy inquired. "I sat till forty days expired, My testing in the wilderness. And day by day I watched God bless A pagan people by his grace. And every day I touched my face, And ran my finger on this scar And felt with shameful fire: how far I'd fallen from the mercy that It meant.

And when the days were at An end, I heard a mighty shout From in the city gates, and out They came, ten thousand with the blast Of trumpets, dancing like a vast And rolling sea, with branches in Their hands, and singing how they'd been Delivered from the wrath to come. They sang with harp and lyre and drum, 'In darkness for a thousand years, And slaves to violence and fears, No hope beyond this world of tears, And then a man of hope appears, A prophet with a scar-drawn face A sign of life, and proof of grace.' They put me on a pallet high And made procession with a cry: 'The God of Jonah is our God; The God of Jonah spared the rod; The God of Jonah rules the sky; The God of Jonah heard our cry.' They carried me before the king, Who bowed to me and said, 'One thing I wish to say before you leave.' He lifted up his royal sleeve, And with his hand he touched my face, And said, 'I know the price of grace, And what it cost for you to bring Salvation to a foreign king. And even though you may not yet Love me, I ask that you would let Me now give thanks for what you are.' And then he stood, and kissed my scar. That was the moment, son, when I Became a different man."

The sky Above Gath-Hepher now was spread With stars, the boy had put his head In Jonah's lap from weariness. The prophet lay his hand to bless The boy. "I'm not asleep," he said. And when he lifted up his head, The tears ran down his face. "Someday," He said, "I want to be the way You are."

"I pray, Hosea, when The day arrives, and you are then Put to the test, it will not be As hard and long for you to see The truth, as it was once for me. A prophet loves his enemy Or dies. His life is not his own; By us the ways of God are known: With fish and worms and wind and wives God writes his ways across our lives. Good night, young man, go home and dwell, And watch your faithful father well."

Now feel the heat of candle three, And let the brightness help you see The purifying flame of grace. And learn again that on its face, It may not be a lovely thing, And may oblige the loss and sting Of death, but in the end is good, And turns the tendrils into wood, And if it must, will cut with fire The hateful part of our desire, Then put away the white hot blade, And kiss the wound that it has made.

Jonah, Part 3 - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Hosea's father let the boyReturn to Jonah's place. The joyThe lad brought home was so much moreThan he had ever shown before,His father felt he couldn't holdHim...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}Hosea's father let the boy
Return to Jonah's place. The joy
The lad brought home was so much more
Than he had ever shown before,
His father felt he couldn't hold
Him...