Wednesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 463

But God said to Jonah,

“Have you reason to be angry over the plant?”

“I have reason to be angry,” Jonah answered, “angry enough to die.”

Then the LORD said,

“You are concerned over the plant which cost you no labor and which you did not raise; it came up in one night and in one night it perished.

In the comical story about Jonah, God may be playing a tad unfairly when he says Jonah is "concerned over the plant." In fact the prophet was upset about the entire mission to the Ninevites. He didn't want to go in the first place; he was not happy to see all the Ninevites from the king to the dumb animals repenting and pleading for mercy; and he was sorely disappointed that fire did not descend upon the Syrian city which had persecuted his Jewish nation for so many centuries. He had reason to be angry!

Anyone familiar with the story of ancient Syrians might sympathize with Jonah. Assyria maintained its political stability by making continual warfare on its neighbors. It cultivated a sense of racial superiority among its citizens and contempt for "inferior" neighbors. Syrian warriors took no captives in battle and reveled in barbaric cruelty toward women, children, the sick and elderly. The Book of Tobit describes the state-sponsored terror which they used against Jewish immigrants. Why would Jonah want to warn them of God's wrath?

Jonah is a prophetic book but the prophet is not Jonah. He is only a comic character; the prophet is the anonymous author and, in fact, God. The Divine Author uses humor to remind us of God's sovereignty. As much as we may hate our enemies and have reasons for it, we can neither judge nor punish them. As Jesus said,

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same? So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.

In the back of the Roman Breviary is a numerical list of all the psalms that appear in our daily prayers. Oddly, some numbers are missing. They're the cursing psalms. There are a few other verses, attached to some of our loveliest psalms, that are also passed over. These invectives against the enemies are really bloody. It's right that we should not use them, although we did before the Second Vatican Council.

However, the cursing psalms have at least one useful purpose. They remind us that we have no authority to punish our enemies. We may ask God to do it, but we cannot do it ourselves. They celebrate our helplessness, our reliance on God, and our hope that God is both just and merciful.

If we have certain ideas about how God should execute his justice, the ceremony of reading these psalms -- loudly and forcefully if we must -- may help us to surrender the "prerogatives" that come with righteous anger. We might say, "Okay, God. I get it! You're the judge and you have the final word. BUT, if you want my input about what you SHOULD DO, I'll tell you...." 

Anger has a way of justifying itself, making us feel godlike in our superior victimage. Unleashed, revenge knows no boundaries, and its violence inevitably turns upon itself. The story of Noah's Flood horrifies us. Unrestrained water destroyed women, children, seniors, men, and dumb animals. We see this fury even today as hurricanes descend on littoral cities. There is neither justice nor mercy in this vindictiveness.

Jonah has every right to be angry but he must surrender that right or be remembered as a whining, pathetic butt of God's prank with a gourd plant. Renouncing revenge, surrendering it to God, praying for those who persecute us, we regain the freedom of God's children.