Staring down his aquiline nose at the quivering lump of humanity bowing before his throne, the king waited impatiently for his report. Bejeweled fingers drummed the elegantly padded armrest. Impatient toes tapped comfortable sandals of soft, supple leather on the impeccable floor. His posture indicated indifference. His countenance exuded mild annoyance. The irritated huff of breath that escaped his lips assured everyone present he remained unconcerned about the messenger’s words. Except he wasn’t.
Underneath the weight of his royal robe, the king’s pulse was tapping a rapid tattoo. Anxiety pumped through his veins, twisting his stomach. His mind raced. His palms were sweating. The tiny hairs at the back of his neck stood on end, unmistakably warning him of impending doom. A nagging voice in his mind warned him that the forthcoming message would not be good. Something was terribly amiss. Before the man in front of him could coerce his shaking vocal chords into expelling the truth, the king of Nineveh knew in the deepest part of his being it was true. Trouble was steamrolling their way.
Hearing the first report, the king had felt little concern over a solitary Jewish man trudging through their city in threadbare robes and worn-out sandals. His beard had split in a grin, a chuckle rumbled from his chest. The man must be a lunatic. Had he never heard of how they had vanquished the Jews in the past? Had the news of Nineveh’s dubious loves–idolatry, hedonism, and bloodlust–not reached his ears? Was he too demented to comprehend they would stop at nothing to protect everything within the city walls? Perhaps the man had a death wish. Maybe he was lost. Perhaps he was just passing through. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was a spy. Maybe he was a refugee. Maybe he was just a wanderer. But he wasn’t, the man was clearly on a mission.
He wished he’d been more proactive. Wished he’d commanded his men to bring Jonah straight to him instead of allowing the man to wander through the city stirring up the residents. Barely a day after he’d walked through the gates, Jonah had traveled one-third of the way through town spreading a message that struck fear in the hearts of the bravest men. The entire town was in an uproar. People were panicking. As their king, he was required to respond, protect his people, make decisions that would avert disaster and reinstate calm. And he would. As soon as he knew what Jonah was saying.
It seemed to take an eternity, but the trembling man before him finally controlled his faculties enough to speak. The news was indeed horrible. The man plodding through their great city was not a tourist. He wasn’t lost. He wasn’t a spy. He was a prophet. The words he spoke came straight from Israel’s God. The God whose reputation of inexhaustible power preceded Him. And He had a message for them. A warning. Destruction was coming. Devastation was imminent. Nineveh would be overthrown. Only forty days stood between them and total annihilation. Their skilled soldiers and trained strategists couldn’t stop it. No sacrifices to their gods could alter it. They were impotent against the coming onslaught. Unless they repented. Unless they laid aside their idols and habits and preferences. Unless they changed. Unless they turned to God.
Nineveh’s king was no stranger to the God of Israel. He couldn’t boast of ever knowing Him personally, but he had made it his business to know all about Him. The history of Israel’s miraculous victories and triumphant escapes wasn’t an enormous hidden secret. Their God had a reputation and He upheld it well. Although slow to anger and of great compassion, once kindled, His wrath was unbearable. No man or army or kingdom could stand against Him. His word was sure. What He said would absolutely come to pass. So when the man standing before the king finally loosened his tongue enough to say the terrifying words the wandering man called Jonah was speaking as he marched through their city, the great, powerful, ruthless king of that bloodthirsty land became wildly distraught. Destruction was coming. Judgment for the things they’d done and the things they’d left undone. The God of Israel was tired of their shenanigans. He was over it. He was demanding change lest He come and extract His price. A price they were unwilling to pay. A cost they couldn’t afford. The city would be overthrown. The people would be annihilated. If they lived, life as they knew it would cease to exist. Unless they did something. (Romans 8:31; II Chronicles 20:6)
Rising from his throne, the king took immediate action. Tossing aside his royal robes, he clothed himself in itchy, smelly sackcloth and sank down to sit in the dust. From his now lowly station, he issued a decree effective immediately. Whether he realized it or not, he followed the actions of Mordecai and Esther when faced with King Xerxes annihilation edict. He followed the same script as the Israelites after Ezra read the law. He did what the people of God had been doing for centuries. The king of Nineveh called a fast. For everyone. People. Animals. Flocks. Herds. No food. No drink. Drape yourselves in sackcloth. People and animals alike. Get. On. Your. Knees. Bow down. Put your face in the ground. Literally. Then urgently, desperately, frantically cry out to Israel’s God. Repent of your evil ways. Put them behind you. Quit your violent tendencies. Change yourselves, your hearts, your lives. Perhaps, just maybe, it will be enough to stay His hand. Maybe it will be enough to stir His renowned compassion. Maybe it will assuage His anger and He will relent. It was all they could do. It might not even work. Their change may be too little, too late. Yet there were no other options. It was a risk worth taking. (Esther 4:1-3, 15-17; Nehemiah 9:1; Jeremiah 18:8
The people must have wondered if it would be enough. It certainly wouldn’t be for their gods. The gods they worshiped would require a much steeper price. They would demand sacrifices the Ninevites were loath to make. Child sacrifices. Lots of them. They must surely have quietly wondered if the king was right about this. Wouldn’t a God storied to hold the power of the world in His hand have a much greater demand? Would this simple fasting and repentance and change be enough to stay God’s hand? With no other options available, did it matter? There were no other options. The king’s ideas were all they had. They had to try them. So they did. Through the haze of fear and panic surrounding them, the people did exactly as they were told. Everyone wore sackcloth. Everyone fasted. Everyone fell on their faces. Everyone repented. And they waited to see what God would do. (Jonah 3)
The Biblical account doesn’t offer an exact timeline, but it seems they didn’t have long to wait. Stirred by their repentance and change, God’s great heart of compassion compelled Him to relent. Without horrendous requests. Without heartbreaking requirements of child sacrifices. Without any of the craziness the gods of Nineveh would have required. Why? Because the sacrifices that please our God have nothing to do with punishment. He doesn’t require self castigation. He doesn’t bestow guilt trips. There are only two sacrifices God is interested in. A broken spirit. A contrite heart. Two things that move God’s heart with compassion and mercy. Both then and now. (Psalm 51:1-17; Deuteronomy 12:31; Isaiah 54:4; Joel 2:13)
See, God isn’t asking you to give something up, lay something down, forgive, forget, or repent because He needs His ego stroked, feels the urge to exercise His divine authority, or flex His omnipotent muscles. No. God brings you to a place of repentance and change for one reason only. The health of your soul. It’s His main concern. Yes, God cares about the daily maintenance of your body, the bills you have to pay, the necessities your life requires. But. He cares more about your soul. He is more invested in your eternity. Because it is permanent. Your eternal destination is a one-way ticket. There are no do-overs. No second chances. No mulligans. Once you arrive, it’s done and dusted. And God is enormously interested in where you spend eternity.(Jonah 4:9-11; Matthew 6:25-34; Philippians 3:13-14; Proverbs 3:11-12)
Perhaps it doesn’t affect you the same way, but there is something about reading God’s response to the Ninevites’ repentance that warms my heart. It curves my lips in a smile. It speaks to my soul about the heart of my God. It underscores the attributes of His character I most often need myself. Compassion. Mercy. Grace. That God would take the time to throw a roadblock in the path of those rebellious, selfish, arrogant, bloodthirsty people speaks to the depth of His unfailing love for mankind. Even before Jesus came to die for us, God the Father wasn’t willing that anyone should die in their sins. When we hate Him. When we don’t choose Him. When we act like He doesn’t exist. When we follow the idols of the world that use and abuse us, demanding more than we can possibly give. Still, He seeks us. Calls us out. He draws us to Himself. Offers reconciliation in exchange for the miniscule price of a repentant spirit and a heart that is willing to change. (II Peter 3:9; Isaiah 30:18; Psalm 145:8-9; Exodus 34:6)
With the Lenten season only a week away, are you listening intently to what God is saying to you? His spiritual warnings. What to lay down. What to pick up. What places in your soul need attention. Are you willing to do it? Are you willing to lay aside your own arrogance and preferences, habits and desires that you might gain Christ? Will you take His warnings seriously, heed His words wholeheartedly? Or does it seem undesirable to you? Does it seem unnecessary to you? Does it feel too uncertain for you? With your eternity hanging in the balance, is following Jesus a risk worth taking? (Joshua 24:14; Philippians 3:7-8; Matthew 11:28-29; Ephesians 6:13; Mark 8:34-37)