Living Wittily

Just When You Thought It was Safe to Take a Photo - God Gets in the Way....

 

 Some went out on the sea in ships;
    they were merchants on the mighty waters.
²⁴ They saw the works of the Lord,
    his wonderful deeds in the deep.
²⁵ For he spoke and stirred up a tempest
    that lifted high the waves.
²⁶ They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
    in their peril their courage melted away.
²⁷ They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
    they were at their wits’ end.
²⁸ Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
    and he brought them out of their distress.
²⁹ He stilled the storm to a whisper;
    the waves of the sea^[a] were hushed.
³⁰ They were glad when it grew calm,
    and he guided them to their desired haven.
³¹ Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
    and his wonderful deeds for mankind.
³² Let them exalt him in the assembly of the people
    and praise him in the council of the elders.

Today I sat in the car and watched a troubled sea. My first trip out for a week after being quite unwell, another episode of bodily weakness possibly brought on by living beyond the limits of what is sensible for someone my age; equally it may well have been one of those random things that happens. Either way, I need to start acting my age, it seems, one of those days, maybe......

But through the murk and gloom of a sea roiled and rolling in a wind neither wavering nor weakening, and painted more than fifty shades of grey by rain thrown in messy freehand rather than spread evenly from some invisible palette, came a large container ship slowly making its way to the harbour entrance. It was like watching a documentary based on Psalm 107, the section about "merchants on the mighty waters." With the Psalms open on my knee, I read those words, 107. 23-32, and watched the skill and courage of a crew arriving at "their desired haven". Then I took the photos.

This is a Psalm for people who have tales to tell; who have been hungry and somehow food has appeared, who have been sick but somehow they got well again, whose lives have been closed in, and their bodies, hearts or minds imprisoned one way or another, but have recovered their freedom, who have sailed stormy waters and against the odds, or so it seems, made it to a safe place once more. And as I sat there watching this ship aim for the narrow harbour entrance and slip thankfully into the shelter of those bastion walls, I was aware I had just watched Psalm 107 enacted and performed for my benefit. Because reading the Psalm I had unwittingly said the prayer that I as much as anyone needed to say, "O Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so..."

The Psalm has four case studies of when life seems to fail - hunger, sickness, loss of freedom, danger to our future - but these four examples are framed by the heart cry of gratitude for the steadfast love of the good God (v1-3) and a beautiful poem at the end about what such steadfast love looks like in lives no less complicated and unpredictable for any of us. And it finishes with the no nonsense advice to consider, to think seriously, to take into full account in any assessment of who you are and where your life is right now, to remember not to forget "the steadfast love of the Lord".

 

And sitting at the North Sea front at Aberdeen, in a howling gale, rain battering the windscreen, book of Psalms on my knee and reading aloud the words of this Psalm as the boat arrived at harbour, I was taught again to do precisely that, "to consider the steadfast love of the Lord who brings us to our desired haven... and raises up the needy". The Psalm writer isn't saying everyone will want to do this; but he is blunt enough to say "Let the redeemed of the Lord say so". If they don't, who will?

Gratitude is the emotion we seldom feel whenever life is taken for granted. In a culture where self-sufficiency is maturity, independence and self-determination a life goal, material prosperity considered the best security, and the selfie the ultimate personal statement, gratitude for the sheer gift of being alive, and gratitude for all the gifts we neither made nor deserve but which make our life possible at all - well gratitude is blindingly conspicuous by its being silenced beneath the din of lives lived selfward.

I an thankful for this Psalm; I am thankful for this ship and that it reached safe harbour. But I am also thankful for those experiences that remind me to be thankful, those times when life isn't going so well for me, or those I care most about. Because undergirding, underwriting, this life I live, is the steadfast love of the Lord whose goodness endures forever, and who will bring us, like that boat, to our desired haven.

Martha and Mary and the Problematic Guest

The past few days I've spent some study time exploring the story of Jesus in the house of Martha and Mary. You know the one - Martha banging pots, rattling dishes and cutlery, checking oven, swearing at the beeping microwave, piling everything in the dishwasher, trying to set a table while stirring a sauce, checking the recipe online, and Mary sitting at Jesus' feet. It isn't fair. Even less fair when Martha complains to Jesus and gets a telling off for getting so worked up.

What's that about? Well it's a long story trying to explain this short story. Martha is the one who welcomes and invites Jesus, assuming that for such an important guest everyone will muck in and get on with what needs to be done. Usually Mary and Martha are a team but this time Mary is sitting, all ears on what Jesus is saying. One of my favourite paintings is the Vermeer Christ in the House of Martha and Mary. It's in the National Galleries in Edinburgh and it's now a regular stopping place if I'm in the city and it can possibly be done.

This painting sent me chasing for other visual interpretations of this story and there are a lot. And they all tell the same story, but often with variations of how the scene is interpreted. Is Jesus annoyed or gentle? Is Martha criticised or consoled? Is Mary lazy or is she doing the right thing? Is conversation more important than food on the table when it comes to hospitality for a hungry guest? Does Martha miss the point, does Jesus overlook Martha's practical kindness or indulge Mary's fascination with the radical teacher from Nazareth? How has Mary chosen the better part and the one thing necessary? Does that mean that all those practical souls whose kindness and friendship is expressed through their own nature as doers of the word, are to be told what they are doing isn't the way to love God? As if those who pray and read the Bible are more in line with what God wants than the person who bakes the bread, drops in with the casserole, misses the prayer meeting to take someone for a hospital appointment?

Yes, I know. Mary was listening to the word, and Martha was clattering in the kitchen. No amount of working, doing, activity is a substitute for prayer, devotion and looking after your soul. But Martha, if she ever gets a fair hearing, might want to say, "Well no amount of praying and Bible study and worship songs are going to feed the proper hunger of the body - give us this day our daily bread is, for a baker, a command to use gift and energy in feeding others." The word activism is a good put down word, usually used by those who want to be super-spiritual and dismiss the spirituality of those who like Bezalel in Exodus 31 was gifted by the Spirit with the practicalities of hand and mind to get the job done.

Annette Everett created a beautiful statue of Martha and Mary standing together, back to back, the sculptor's way of saying that contemplation and action, listening and doing, being with Jesus and working for Jesus, are both required in the model disciple. This, and Vermeer's painting are interpretations in which Martha isn't put down, but helped to see that all the effort in the world isn't a substitute for attentive listening to what the guest actually wants, needs and expects. Hospitality is not to foist the host's agenda driven approach to making the guest feel welcome; it is to pay attention to what the guest says, to offer first the gift of presence and that precious time needed to get a good meal on the table.

There is a rich and varied tradition of how this story has been used in the church down the centuries, across the world in different cultures, and often as a co-opted script to put women in their place! That's another story, but reader beware and be aware, Luke in telling this story has Mary doing what a man does and a woman is never expected to do in Jesus' time. And Martha's activism (a word too often used in a pejorative dismissal of people's hard work) is described as diakonia, ministry, service. Together these two women contain the rich diversities of Christian ministry and devotion to God, the love of neighbour and God, the practical kindness that prepares food and the attentive listening that receives the gift the guest brings.

Such a rich story.

Gethsemane and Our IPhones.

Gethsemane was the dark night of Jesus' soul. Fear and anxiety distilled into dread. "He who knew no sin became sin that we might become in him the righteousness of God."

So why use a cartoon to illustrate an incident so dripping with anguish? Because sometimes the superficial and trivial helps us finally 'get it'. Jesus needed faithful companionship, unselfish attentiveness, comfort and reassurance that he wasn't alone.

The iphone and tablet are becoming the equivalent of self-concerned complacency. The gift of a person's presence is spurned for a digital screen, its glow preferred to the face of a friend.

Caring for the Words and the Text of the New Testament.

We all have our idiosyncracies. From food preferences to the clothes we wear, from the TV programmes that do it for us, to those that we have never watched  - and could conceive of no circumstances that might persuade us ever to watch them. Idiosyncracies make our world an interesting, colourful diverse and exciting place to be. It's those infinitely variable human differences that make us who we are, those personal interests and odd enthusiasms, that story that is only and can only be ours, and that only we can tell, the characteristics and quirks that give us our individiuality, uniqueness and definition as the specific, different person we are.

So if I say I am fascinated by the history of New Testament research, I am referring to one of my idiosyncracies. An enthusiasm limited in its clientele, a minority interest group even in the rarefied world of New Testament scholarship, but for me one of the most exciting areas of study I've lived in for decades. It goes back to one book; The History of the Interpretation of the New Testament, by Stepehn Neil. I spent a summer holiday in 1984 reading that book from cover to cover along with Tom Clancy's Hunt for Red October and the biography of Temple Gairdner of Cairo. Who he? That will be another post.

Stephen Neil's book reads like a novel, a biography and a history all in one. It was updated in a Second Edition by N T Wright, and now covers the history of New Testament scholarship up to 1986. Recently a mammoth 3 volume History of New Testament Research from the 18th to the end of the 20th Century was completed by William Baird, and I've just started to read it. Baird is yet another example of scholars who go to heroic lengths in their quest for understanding of the text, and the history, interpretation, reception and influence of the New Testament over 2000 years of reflection, study, understanding and misunderstanding. These volumes trace the fascinating mixture of literary detective work, historical synthesis, biography, textual analysis, academic politics, and colliding theological presuppositions, philosophical assumptions and scientific theorising of around 300 years of intense study. All to make sense of 28 documents the length of a medium sized paperback, written around 2000 years ago by a variety of people and communities of no great moment then, but of vast significance for subsequent human history.

If you want to know what's so fascinating about this stuff let me recommend Sisters of Sinai, by Janet Martin Soskice as a good place to start. It tells of two sisters from Kilbarchan ( In Victorian times a wee Scottish village with weaving mills) who had ambitions to learn and travel. They visited Mount Sinai monastery, discovered ancient New Testament manuscripts and codices, learned several Oriental languages in order to translate them, and contributed significantly to the science of textual criticism and the search for the earliest witnesses to the biblical text.In doing all this they had to take on the male bastions of academia who had little patience and less respect for the accomplishments of these women.

How scholars establish the reliability of the text of the New testament is a mixture of tedium and inspiration, it requires disciplined sifting of textual minutiae and instinctive genius for language, demands a scrupulous weighing evidence and imaginative but historically plausible reconstructing of context and provenance. During this period of Lent when I'm thinking about words, how they are used, the search for a responsible stewardship of words, and why we should care for words like conservators and curators of meaning. I reflect on the countless scholars, the millions of hours of study, the adventures and the heartache, the passion of the quest and the disciplines of intellectual integrity and humility before a text that no scholar can own, possess or control. And I'm grateful for such holy industry. At least in this sense, of careful attention to words that are life changing, Lent is a time to re-read the New Testament, wth a care for what it says.

 

The Letter of James 2. Words of Advice for Confused Strugglers

I'm still reading, marking and learning in the Epistle of James, and taking time to inwardly digest a text that is nourishing and therefore not fast food. James is writing "in the name of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes of the Dispersion". So in the very first verse he uses a word that tells us who we are as followers of Jesus, whether we live now or 2000 years ago - we are exiles, dispersed people, a scattered community.

I've long felt that the biblical story of Exile has important parallels for Christians trying to live in our 21st Century culture where faith commitments and religious privilege are no longer the assumed context for our daily living. Christian values, practices and moral patterns are now minority interests, one option in a plethora of other chosen lifestyles, value systems and relational commitments, which have equal validity and powerful promotional claims in a post-Christian, media soaked, inter-connected society.

So when James says his letter is for those who feel displaced, who live away from home, whose identity is constantly under pressure, whose cultural roots are planted in alien soil, then it just may be that his message takes on particular urgency and poignancy. A recent study of Global Diaspora might help us understand why it is that Christians struggle to survive in our society, and are tempted time and again to take the lines of least resistance, and to settle for being non-radical in our discipleship. Here are some of the realities pointed out in that study of what it means being an exile, being dispersed and away from where we are most at home. Each of them is energy sapping, vision reducing, hope impairing, and thus diminishing of life possibilities:

• separation from homeland (alienation from an increasingly anit-Christian culture)
• life on the move (living with rapid paced change)
• erosion of identity as a people (Christian community)
• living on the periphery when power is at the centre (end of Christendom)
• loss of cultural roots ( the things that matter most to Christians matter least now)
• refugee status (citizens of heaven locked into ways of life hostile to Christian values)

Now the New Testament scholar Joel Green then points out that James himself identifies key features of dispersion and exile:

trials of every kind (1.2)

testing of faith (1.3)

humiliation (1.9)

temptation (1.12)

distress (1.27)

conflicts and disputes (4.1)

victims of hostile treatment (5.4,6)

a life of wandering (5.19)

However, James says something early on that is crucial for our survival as Christians amidst all this negative sounding talk - "Count it all joy when you face various tests...". Why? Because suffering trials and tests brings endurance and then maturity. Joy isn't happiness; it's much nearer confidence, a trusting attitude to life that isn't based on only good things happening to good people, and behind all that, James urges a recognition that God is a particular kind of God. James 1.16-18 "Every good gift, every perfect gift, comes from above. These gifts come down from the Father is the creator of the heavenly lights, in whose character there is no change at all. Or in an older translation, "in whom there is no shadow of turning."

So exiles in a time and a place, a culture and a society, struggle to exist where following faithfully after Jesus is neither easy nor popular. But, says James, they are those who have a strange, durable joy, because the God who gifts us life and whose gifts sustain our life is faithful, constant, unchanging. No wonder these verses are embedded in hymns of the Church:

"Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father,

There is no shadow of turning with thee;

Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not,

As thou hast been thou forever wilt be."

Epiphany, Adoration and the Harsh Realities of Power

St Columba Altarpiece. Triptych showing Annunciation, Adoration and Presentation.

(Central Panel Enlarged)

Epiphany is an eye-opener.  God incarnate welcomed by the humble is visited by Magi, the scientists and economists, the advisers and private secretaries of the powerful. And they bring gifts, which Christian imaginations have interpreted as gold for wealth and splendour, myrrh for sorrow and suffering and frankincense for its cosmetic and aromatic value. All three were luxury items, gifts fit for only the most powerful. The adoration of the Magi is Matthew's invitation to costly discipleship, worship of Jesus, recognition of the Saviour. So this devotional take on Matthew's story goes.

But Epiphany isn't a devotional reverie, nor a mere enlightening moment of touching reverence. Here the great are humbled, the mighty kneel, earthly wealth and worldly wisdom bow in acknowledgement of a greater wisdom and a different wealth. In this nativity which is the epitome of poverty and powerlessness, Epiphany is the revelation that something of unprecedented upset is taking place.  And in the background, power growls. Herod perfectly portrays the paranoia of power. Cunning, suspicious, unprincipled apart from the prime directive of tyrants to eliminate opposition and second guess providence.

The coming of the Magi spooks Herod, and from the that moment infant lives are forfeit, and human anguish guaranteed. The murder of the innocents is a direct consequence of these Magi coming to pay homage. Their astrological know-how, their technical and technological skills in the art of knowing, give their words an authoritative imprimatur. If they say a king has been born, and with a star as celestial confirmation, then this is a political crisis, and emergency event, an invasion by another claimant, a nascent threat to Herod's power. He does what any good tyrant would do. Identify, locate and destroy.

Well we know that the Magi gave him the slip. Robbed of that indispensable tool of the oppressor, reliable intelligence, he moves to plan B. Seeing the birth of a child as a cancer, he marks the parameters and performs surgery on his population "all the boys two years old and under, in Bethlehem and surrounding districts...". The slaughter of the innocents was a poltical prophylactic, preventative medicine to keep his power base healthy. This too is an Epiphany. The Magi kneeled and adored; Herod seeks and destroys. The Magi bring gifts recognising the royal status of the child; Herod's recognition goes even deeper. He sees the implications of a royal birth for his own future, and does what totalitarian governments do, suppress dissent, execute those who challenge the hegemony of the state, perform radical surgery not on the body politic but on the people.

The painting is by Rogier Vad Der Weyden. This painting is from the Columba Altar Triptych. In contrast to much previous art, Van der Weyden sets the nativity not in a heavenly scene with Mary the Queen, but in an exposed outhouse. The focus of the painting is not the splendour of the gifts but the adoration of the givers. On the central pillar a crucifix, linking Bethlehem with Calvary, Incarnation with Atonement, and human celebration with human suffering. The star, "symbol of divine glory" is largely obscured by the roof of the outhouse, and those looking on are dressed and presented as ordinary folk of Van der Weyden's time.

Reflection on this part of the Christmas story isn't an exercise in warm mystery and sentimental hopes, but in cold reality and political pragmatism. The coming of the Magi exposed the terror unleashed by threatened power, even when that threat is powerless. And yet. The Magi come as the Gentiles to a Jewish baby. Herod is eclipsed by Isaiah. Isaiah 60.1-7 is a vision of community transformed and enlarged, of wellbeing and welfare, of enmity forgotten and friendships created across barriers, cultures and races. As a Christian, I read these old texts of the Prophet Isaiah, and ponder the Gospels and the mission of Jesus, and I look around for whatever it is I could bring. Not gold, myrrh and frankincense, but in a masterpiece of rhetorical anit-climax, perhaps what Christina Rossetti suggested at the end of In the bleak mid-winter', my heart. By which I mean including but not limited to, my faith, my yes, my imagination, my energy,   

First Corinthians is Hard Going; It Can Be Explained for a Fee.

In 1987 Gordon Fee's commentary on Paul's first letter to the Corinthians was published. For near 30 years Fee on Corinthians has been the benchmark commentary for scholars and preachers. More recent commentaries bring the discussions up to date, build on contemporary hermeneutical models, reflect recent interests in socio-rhetorical and political readings of Pauline letters, and in the case of Thiselton's monumental commentary on the Greek Text, open up multiple doors in reception history, history of interpretation and hermeneutic horizons.

But Fee remains a favourite for many, and for a variety of reasons. He is one of the finest exegetes of the last 50 years, an Evangelical serving within the academy with a passion for excellence in scholarship and integrity in dealing with historical material. He is a Pentecostal theologian whose work on pneumatology and christology in Paul is exhibited in two volumes of erudition harnessed to spiritual purpose, and scholarly activity in the service of the church. As if that isn't enough he is a trusted guide in the disciplines of exegesis as these underlie preaching that takes seriously the integrity of the text and the spirituality of communities committed to reading, learning and living Scripture.

So it was with great sadness that we learned Professor Fee has retired from formal academic appointments, due to the onset of alzheimer's disease. Sadness because I have for 30 years sat at the feet of this Gamaliel, and learned from such a wise and penetrating mind, deeply and gladly how to handle sacred texts responsibly, and responsively. But I feel great gratitude too, for a life of such dedicated joy, positively revelling in New Testament textual criticism and exegesis. His commentaries on First Corinthians, Philippians and Thessalonians, his books God's Empowering Presence, and Pauline Christology, his several volumes of occasional essays, are exemplary works of scholarship, and his commentaries especially are like Emmaus walks for preachers and students and scholars - using them, the heart burns within as he opens the scriptures. Does that sound overstated? Maybe, but just a little. His co-authored book with Douglas Stuart, How to Read the Bible for All It's Worth, could easily describe the gift he has given to generations of students, and sum up his own life's work. It is all a first year text book should be - accessible, enthusiastic, affordable, readable, instructive and sensible.

Eerdmans have just announced a revised edition of Fee on First Corinthians, the revisions carried out latterly by Professor Fee before his illness and subsequent retirement. Whether it will be a significant revision interacting with the vast cataract of Pauline studies in the past quarter century, remains to be seen. But in affection, gratitude and because I love the NICNT commentaries, I will use a recent book token to replace my old Fee, which was bought all these years ago and is so split it is more like a pile of pamphlets in a board folder - my edition was one of the first to be glued rather than stitched - sign of a decadent culture, glued books!!

Romans 1.12 and Teachers as Learners and Learners as Teachers

Bishop Handley Carr Glynn Moule was one of the most effective expositors of the early Keswick holiness teaching. He grounded the Keswick experience of sanctification as an experience of full surrender to Jesus as Lord in careful exegesis of the New Testament, enriched and guided by a moderate Calvinism, and after his own experience of a new grace and power, that theology became an articulation of his own spiritual experience. 

You can trace the transition by reading his earlier commentary on Romans in the Cambridge Bible, (1879) and comparing it with his later commentary in the Expositor's Bible (1894). I remember reading these two commentaries in parallel when I was writing about the courteous but principled disagreement between two fine Anglican Bishops, Ryle and Moule. For Ryle the idea of a final or continuing victory over sin and inner spiritual conflict was contrary to the clear teaching of the Bible and the universal experience of Christian struggle against sin as a lifetime of conflict, frustration of intention, and struggle towards holiness. For Moule, whose earlier commentary affirmed that same experience of inner contradiction, he had moved to an experience which, after his full surrender to Christ, affirmed the victory that only Christ can give to the soul which is surrendered fully to the indwelling Lord, crucified and risen, whose life is now lived through the experience of the regenerate soul by the power of the Spirit.

These were the days when Anglican Bishops argued with passion on Pauline theology, christian existence and the crucial distinctions in Christian experience that made all the difference to how we understand the Gospel. And did so with Bible in hand and with the orchestra of theological tradition and biblical exegesis in full symphonic performance.

All of which brings me in a roundabout way to Moule's earlier wee commentary on Romans. It's 270 pages, six and a half by four and a half inches, and fits nicely into an anorak pocket! Does anyone wear anoraks now? OK, a jacket pocket. Reading through it again as my daily devotions I came across the Bishop's quaint comment on Romans 1.12. This is where Paul, in full rhetorical and diplomatic flow says,

"For I long to see you that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end you may be established; that is that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me."

Here is Moule, his language that of a Victorian church statesman:

"The tact of the apostle is only an exquisite combination of sympathy and judgement; he speaks the true word, in the right place, and from the heart. It would be shallow criticism indeed which would see here only an ingenious religious compliment. To the sincere Christian teacher nothing is  more real than the reflex aid he [or she] receives among Christian learners." page 55 

Now that last sentence should be written on the door of every theological college classroom! The best teachers are learners and good learners are brilliant teachers.

Moule's stately Victorian language lends gravitas to one of the key pedagogic dispositions of the teacher - lifelong teachability. I haven't checked, but I'm not sure I'd expect to find Moule's application of Paul's rhetoric in some of the contemporary Romans heavyweights, but I'm repared to be corrected by those willing to go look. For now, I'm grateful to God for 'the reflex aid I've recieved among Christian learners.'

Blinking Blinkered Hermeneutics - OR - Seeing in the Text What We Want to See, and Turning a Blind Eye to What We Need to See

I love biblical commentaries. I don't mean only that I like, value, use, buy, read, browse, collect commentaries. I mean all of these and added into it a glad amazement at the inexhaustibility of the biblical texts. A definition of a good commentary is hard to formulate - so much depends on the kind of reader and the kind of commentary. So, is Gary Smith's commentary a good one?

Well according to one Amazon reviewer called Shandy, mostly yes but with a serious caveat. I leave you to read the whole review and tell me what you think of the caveat.

Another excellent commentary from the NIV application series. Good exposition of what the prophecies meant to those who first heard them in Bible times. Original ideas for how the messages of the ancient prophets help us in our lives today.
Gary Smith presents some challenges to the Bible believer, such as his powerful argument of the importance of the "Lament" in the life of the Christian.
My only criticism of the book would be that Smith urges Christians to become political activists on behalf of the poor and oppressed. This seems to go against Christ's example of refusing to become involved politically (e.g. refusing to be made king, or become involved in protests against heavy taxes) as his mission was first and foremost to preach the good news about God's coming kingdom on earth, where oppression will be destroyed once and for all.
With our world being ravaged by earhquakes, tsunamis, wars, famines and terrorism, Micah's prediction of a righteous king from Bethlehem - Jesus Christ - ruling over a worldwide kingdom of peace is as relevant now as it ever was.

This was accessed here

Dear Readers, on the strength of Shandy's caveat, I will buy Smith's commentary and soak up every instance of being urged to become politcally activist in the pursuit of justice and righteousness and mercy.

Incidentally what on earth did Micah mean by "He has told you O people what is good; and what does the Lord require of you? But to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." How do you act justly in an unjust society? How do you love mercy in a politcally ruthless society?By amongst other things, being politcially activist, that is, acting in ways that arte for the common good, and out of a commitment to Jesus, who was crucified for reasons of political expediency and religious convenience.

Jonah and the Incredible Sulk

This wee book on Jonah cost me £2.50 in 1977. I bought it because I was speaking at a Conference in Kilcreggan on mission. Back then Missiology was an up and coming area of major theological attention and grew into an essential discipline for research, reflection and forward looking ecclesial praxis. I hadn't long finished reading through Let the Earth Hear His Voice, a massive document produced at the International Congress on World Evangelization in Lausanne, 1975.  Three  years later J Verkuyl's Introduction to Contemporary Missiology appeared as an early introduction to a more serious and structured approach to missiology as a serious doctrinal imperative in its own right, and an area of study requiring urgency, imagination and courage to challenge the more superficial or outdated theories and practices of evangelism and missionary activity. 

Back to Jonah. I had just spent £6.25 on Leslie Allen's commentary on Joel, Obadiah, Jonah and Micah, and was fascinated by Jonah as a missionary who wanted to give evangelism a body swerve, whose reluctance to preach mercy was ruthlessly obstinate, and whose entire body language was an enacted "No" of defiance, poorly disguised as justified protest at the scandalous softness of God!

So when I read Fretheim's theological commentary (by the way the current very fruitful attention to theological exegesis is not as recent or as innovative as is often claimed in publishers' blurb - Fretheim et al were doing it decades ago) I was intrigued by the playfulness and literary enjoyment of a commentator who understood irony and the subversive persuasiveness of an anti-hero. All the way through the book Jonah is a missiological liability. He doesn't want to preach repentance and mercy; he says yes but walks in the opposite direction; he prays a Psalm of repentance that reads like pious obedience but is more a wheedling negotiation with God; then when he does preach, his words are unadulterated pessimism; and his response to the Ninevites repentance is anger, resentment and a suicidal sulk.

The story of Jonah is a brilliant exposition of obedience through gritted teeth, a servant of God who thinks he can manage the universe better than the Creator. He sits beneath his gourd plant, hoping against hope that the Ninevites will be offered no hope, no mercy, no future. He is angry with God because God is slow to anger; he is critical of God because mercy is the best outcome of judgement; his sense of proportion is so skewed that he is moved by the tragedy of a withered gourd tree, and unmoved by the thought of annihilation on an urban scale. And the book ends in one of the best jokes in the entire canon - leave aside the 120,000 people, what about all the animals. Weigh it up Jonah - one gourd bush or an entire city. Where does the burden of mercy rightly fall?

Here is one of Fretheim's best comments, a comparison of Elijah and Jonah: "And Elijah asked that he might die, saying, 'It is enough. Now O lord take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.'" The difference between Jon ah and Elijah is striking. Elijah was in despair over his failure to turn the hearts of the idolatrous people of Israel. Jonah was in despair over his success...Jonah has become angry because God has refused to pour out his anger. Jonah will be angry if God will not be."(p. 122)

No wonder God asks the incredulous question, "Are you right to be angry". In the 21st Century world where religious anger is often clothed in lethal violence, or simmers into a resentment of 'the other', whoever 'they' are, Jonah comes as an ironic subversion of all devotion to God that uses God's judgement as an excuse for our hatreds, justification of our prejudices and confirmation of our presupposed rightness. Because however right we think we are, there is always the danger that we feel so right that rather than accept the reality of God's eternal love and mercy, we remake God in the image of our own prejudices and begin instructing God in the dynamics of anger, punishment and judgement.

"God was in Christ breconciling the world to himself, not counting their tresspasses against them...."  Go and do likewise! The Gospel remains subversive, generous, outrageous, scandalous, unbelievably merciful, incredibly forgiving, and the God made known in Jesus remains the God who throws extravagant parties for every sinner who repents, and who even comes looking for the Jonah-like elder brother, out there sulking because God has no favourites.