When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind, and the sun blazed down on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. (Jonah 4:8, NIV)
We move today in our short study in Jonah to our most critical question. Yesterday we noted that God is constantly trying to get our attention. It was a safe observation in the theoretical (sometimes called the theological!). But now we must press in to the personal and ask pointedly of ourselves, Does God have my attention?
Remember that we build our lives on busy-ness, and the distraction this causes keep us from hearing God when we should. That’s easy to see. But here’s another way we grow deaf to God’s call: comfort.
The sinful nth degree of self-control is comfort. I set my schedule so I can predict what’s coming. I organize my house so “there is a place for everything and everything is in its place”—whether that place is a well-labeled filing cabinet or an untidy junk drawer. I even pick my church so that I don’t have to drive too far or go to small group or listen to loud music or worship with liberals or go on a mission trip. If those notes tweaked you, look at these: there are also those who pick their church so they can say they drove an hour to get there, so they can get kneesy-nosy in intimate small groups, so they can sing along with pile-driving guitars and floor-moving drums, so they can show how well-rounded they are with by associating with people their parents would not, and so they can announce on Facebook where their missions are taking them this year. Comfort comes in as many forms as there are people in the world, and if you think that comfort has little to do with whether or not God is trying to get your attention against your better ideas, consider Moses and his comfortable stuttering, or Gideon and his comfortable family idols, or David and his comfortable springtime vacation, or Nicodemus and his comfortable intellect, or the paralytic at the pool and his comfortable story of having no one to help him. Or Jonah and his shade vine.
It doesn’t take us very long to create identities for ourselves. I’m the guy who has his Bible all marked up, who struggles with pornography, who leads the neighborhood outreach, who once spent time in prison, who visits the sick in the hospital, who can’t stop cussing. I’m the woman who organizes the prayer gathering, who is going to die because I can’t do what the doctor tells me, who is speaking at the women’s retreat, who starts every rumor mill, who spoils her grandchildren, who spoils the surprise.
But if the little book of Jonah teaches us anything it is that our personal identities don’t much matter—whether we’re polytheistic sailors just trying to do our business, or men and women on the busy streets of the largest city in the region, or a king who’s got it all under control, or a “prophet of God” who one day is a runner, the next is a penitent, the next is a preacher, and the next is a whiner. What matters is the person and wonder of God and how he is using that wonder—from whirlwinds to worms—to get your attention. Does he have it? Why not? You see, this really is the most critical question of all.
—
Jeff Hopper
May 1, 2014
Copyright 2014 Links Players International
The Links Daily Devotional appears Monday-Friday at www.linksplayers.com.