New Years' Resolution (As Such)

I'm not much for New Years' resolutions.  If I were, I'd be failing already because this first post of 2015 concerning New Years' resolutions is coming a half-month late.

However, I do have a Biblical passage/ideology that I intend to apply this year -- an easy-to-miss verse in an easy-to-gloss-over passage that has some hugely significant application.

The prophet Jonah's story is known even outside the realm of Biblical study.  Critics of biblical inerrancy make much of the miraculous "delivery system" God employs in this short book, but the focal point of the text actually has very little to do with giant sea creatures.  What's truly remarkable about the book of Jonah -- aside from the fact that an entire populace unanimously renounce their wicked ways (though they would eventually return to them, prompting the prophecy of Nahum a century later) -- is the fact that God once again employs a disagreeable person to accomplish His purposes.  Of course, that doesn't give us an excuse to be disagreeable, but it is encouraging to know that I'm not the only one who struggles to be compassionate or to follow the route God is clearly laying before me.

As a political zealot, Jonah had pressured King Jeroboam II into expanding Israel's northern borders against the encroaching Assyrian empire -- restoring them to the point at which they had been in the days of David and Solomon (2 Kin 14.23-27).  Like his fellow Israelites, Jonah knew well the atypical propensity for cruelty and bloodlust that characterized the Assyrian nation, and seems to have been a man who seemed to need little provocation to become resentful.  Ninevah, possibly the largest city in the world at that time, found its home on the Tigris River 500 miles northeast of Israel.  It was one of Assyria's royal cities, served as its capital for many years, and was a center for idolatrous worship.

Because he knew God was "gracious and merciful," "slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness," and "One who relents from doing harm," (4.2) Jonah at first refused to go to Ninevah -- because he feared -- at best -- that they might brutally murder him, or -- at worst -- the people might actually repent and that God might actually forgive them.  Strange priorities, sure.  The notion of his people's oppressors walking away scot-free for saying they were sorry didn't sit well with the prophet.  And so, because Jonah refused to go, God was forced to deliver him directly to Ninevah by some fairly unconventional means.

In the wake of Jonah's message, accompanied by the Spirit's convicting presence and prompted by the occurrence of two plagues (765 and 759 BC) and a solar eclipse (763 BC), the entire population of Ninevah turned out in simultaneous repentance.  Such a wide-spread scale of earnest confession the world has perhaps never seen since.  However, despite the fact that any missionary would have considered it a rousing success, Jonah parked himself on a hill outside the city to watch, wait, and feel sorry for himself.  Maybe he thought God would take pity and decide to smite a few Assyrians, if only to lessen His servant's stinging pride.

It was here, seated in his place of judgment, that Jonah accused the Lord of being too kind and too generous.  Jonah appreciated God's grace and forgiveness when it came to himself and to his people.  Historically, they were no strangers to the kindness and patience of the Almighty.  When it came to the Assyrians, however, Jonah couldn't fathom why God would extend mercy.  This was a people who could barely define the concept.

And then, as Jonah moped on his little throne on the hillside, God asked him the question.

"Do you do well to be angry?"

This simple query reveals so much about the patient, inviting nature of our Father -- the One who is "gracious and merciful," "slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness."  Instead of rebuking the wayward prophet -- who, by virtue of his calling, was held to a greater standard of obedience than was the pagan city below him -- God extended to Jonah the opportunity for humble self-evaluation.

The question wasn't, "Who do you think you are?"

The question was, "Is it justified for you to withhold compassion?"

In his analysis of the ministry of the prophet Jonah, H. A. Ironside observed the following:

[Those who have a special ministry to the people of God] are judged of the Lord, not merely as saints, but as servants.  Nor does failure relieve them of responsibility to serve, but calls all the louder for self-judgment, that they may be in a right state of soul to minister in holy things.

Here's what I know.  Like Jonah, I am a failure of a servant.  I am a man who is abysmally selfish.  I wrestle with pride and a quick temper that no one but me ever sees.  Were I to list all of my faults, not only would you stop reading (probably more due to boredom than disgust), but I'd also be defeating the purpose of this post.

Instead of dwelling on my flaws and becoming discouraged, or instead of assuming my actions to be justified, what if I stopped to evaluate my actions with that simple question -- "Do I do well?"  In any given scenario, instead of defaulting to my normal mode of operation, what if I paused and considered whether or not the choice (conscious or otherwise) I'm making is really the best, most rightful option?  Maybe it's not always my anger that needs to be evaluated.  Maybe it's not always a deliberate sin.  Maybe the question could be, "Do I do well to be comfortable?" -- do I have a good reason for sitting on the couch tonight?  Is my sense of contentment the gateway for sin to enter?

We're all failures, but failure doesn't make us unusable.  Failure unaddressed -- failure to "self-judge" as Ironside put it -- makes us unusable.  But the fact that we have failed and will fail does not mean we are no longer fit for service.  Even Jonah was useful to God.  Though his account ends abruptly, the fact that Jonah himself is attributed as the writer of the book would imply that he eventually learned his lesson.  However, to truly minister effectively, we must not fall into Jonah's trap -- thinking we're better off than we are, assuming our selfish reservations are justified, withholding compassion from the lost.

Earnest self-evaluation and regular repentance keeps us from wandering into the types of sins we never thought ourselves capable of committing.  Earnest self-evaluation and regular repentance keeps us from parking ourselves on hillsides of self-righteousness and deeming sorrowful sinners unworthy of God's grace.

"Do I do well?"

It's not really a New Years' Resolution, but it is something I want to try this year.  If I'm faithful, I'll come out of 2015 a little closer to bringing every thought into captivity for the sake of obedience (2 Cor 10.5).