The friends of the Bible have unwittingly made this great book a jest and a byword by their wretched interpretation of it. Even as a little boy, I used to feel ashamed of certain portions of Jonah when read at family prayers. For, as I understood it, there was something about the story uncanny and unreal. I knew that some people scoffed at the fish story. But that did not trouble me because I believed in miracles, and was much pleased that God did not let poor Jonah drown. It was the unnaturalness of Jonah himself that troubled me. And when it came to his experience with the gourd, I almost lost faith. When Jonah felt so angry and sorry that he wanted to die because a worm bit the gourd, my common sense revolted completely. I meditated over this incident a long time, and finally concluded that no little boy was ever such a fool as that. I had felt faint in the hot sun many times myself and had seen chinch bugs eat up whole fields of wheat, and yet I did not want to die. That a big man, and prophet of God, could give way to such hysterical feelings over a withering gourd was more than I could believe. This incident was a much greater shock to my faith than the fish story. Though I felt very wicked for doubting the Bible, yet I was heartily glad that a certain sceptical neighbor was not present to hear it, for I knew he would make fun of such a story. What a pity it is that a little boy should be compelled to experience such feelings about the Bible at family prayers, when a little rational explanation would make this book charming to him beyond expression.

Though the book of Jonah is written in a curious oriental style that no man of to-day would wish to imitate, yet its spirit, purpose, and subject matter would be very difficult to surpass. As a parable, it is true to the general history of Israel and to the spirit of Christian missions. It contains the vision of a missionary statesman, and was meant to sting Israel to the quick for her bigotry and hardness of heart.

Very briefly stated, it is something like this:

The whining and almost contemptible prophet Jonah is Israel itself. Jonah is a caricature of Israel, and that is what made him seem unreal to me. Israel wanted the heathen killed, and not converted. And though she did not dare to disobey God outright, yet she gave God the slip at the first corner and embarked on the sea of politics. For a long time Israel had been as anxious to get into politics and form international relations as she had been determined not to be a missionary nation to her despised neighbors. So in this parable, Israel had not been long on the sea of politics when a great storm arose,—it is ever so. And, as usual in politics, someone is thrown overboard. The great fish that swallowed Jonah was Assyria. Therefore it is not strange that Israel offered a long and beautiful prayer in that kind of a fish's belly. Proud Israel, God's darling, in exile for her rebellion against Jehovah, could do no otherwise than offer up a prayer.

"Out of the belly of Sheol cried I,
And thou heardest my voice.
For thou didst cast me into the depth, in the heart of the seas,
And the flood was round about me;
All thy waves and thy billows passed over me.
And I said I am cast out before thine eyes;
Yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.
The waters compassed me about, even to the soul;
The weeds were wrapped about my head.

"And Jehovah spake unto the fish, (Assyria) and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land." And Israel returned from captivity. Israel still showed an aversion for missionary work after her exile, but when God said "Go" a second time, Israel went. That is, she went in the parable. It is clear, from the sarcasm of the story, that Jonah enjoyed his message when he began crying, "Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown." The parable reveals the faith of the author. He wished to convey the idea that the wicked heathen would repent more quickly than Israel if they had a herald to proclaim God's truth. Of course, a prophecy of destruction would not come true if the heathen repented. So God decided not to do what He said He would.

"But it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was angry." When Jonah, the typical Israelite, saw that his preaching had converted the heathen he was so mad that he wanted to die. I knew how kind-hearted you were toward repentant sinners, and that is the reason I tried to run off the first time. Now, God, just kill me; "for it is better for me to die than to live." Is this history? Yes, it is history in stinging sarcasm. How the Israelites must have writhed under such a portrayal of their faithless and godless hearts. But the author knew that it would take more than this to break their stubborn wills. So he proceeds with a few more sledge-hammer blows.

"And Jehovah said, Doest thou well to be angry?" Now this gave Jonah a little hope that God might kill his despised neighbors even if they had bitterly repented and turned to the Lord for forgiveness. Accordingly, Jonah went out of the city and sat on the east side where he could see and gloat over the destruction of his converts, in case the Lord did intend to destroy them after all. In the meantime, Jonah made himself just as comfortable as possible by constructing a booth where he could sit in the shade. And our satirist causes God to add a little touch of comfort by causing a gourd "to come up over" His darling, "Jonah, that it might be a shade over his head, to deliver him from his evil case."

Now, the contemptible Jonah had no business being there in the sun; he should have been at home helping his wife, if he had nothing else to do. But better still, he should have been in Nineveh rejoicing with the converts who had been redeemed from destruction by his preaching.

Note the fine sarcasm of our author, "So Jonah was exceedingly glad of the gourd."