Copyright © 2005 Alfred D. Byrd
Welcome, visitor! Here is the sight
That you've come across the world to see.
It isn't a lot, a mound of earth
Amid a plain consumed by the sun.
Don't judge, however, by looks alone;
This mound is more than it seems to you.
It holds, a tale of this land has told,
Some bones of worth, the prophet Jonah's.
You smile! Are you sure of what took place
When he left the stage revealed by God?
You think, I suppose, that he went back home
To live his life with no thought of fish.
Surely he must have left this country:
He hated the ones who heard his words,
A people whose hands were red with blood,
Who longed to conquer Jonah's people,
And whose ways were cursed before the Lord.
This people, Jonah never could like!
When they changed their ways, at least awhile,
We read of Jonah ablaze with wrath
At God for sparing his foes from death.
How much did Jonah abhor this land!
He loved a gourd more than men or beasts.
I see why you speak of his return
To where he could live with those like him.
Scripture has told us no more than this:
Our Lord rebuked him for pride of heart,
For hating children of God like him,
However foreign their speech and gods,
However savage their ways had been.
Could he hear the voice of God and learn
Not a thing from what his Lord had said?
Could he feel the hand of God and make
No turn from what had displeased his Lord?
Can we meet the One Who made our lives
And leave that meeting unmoved, unchanged?
Scripture has said no more of Jonah.
Our story has said that he stayed with us
And died with those whom he hoped would die
At the hands of God in fire and blood.
Did he change his heart to please his Lord?
Did he learn from pain, his tale of woes,
Through the grace of God to love his foes?
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