Introduction to the Scripture
Many of us know the story of Jonah, the prophet thrown into the sea, swallowed by “a great fish,” and kept alive for three days and three nights in its belly. It’s a fascinating story that captures our imagination.
This month, we’ll journey through the entire Book of Jonah. It’s short, just four brief chapters, almost like a small storybook. Together, we’ll listen deeply to what this story teaches us about “deep listening” itself, and how that listening can guide our reflection on this month’s focus: Christian nationalism.
In the Belly: An Uncomfortable Space for Change
Let’s begin with the most dramatic and fascinating part. Jonah is hurled into a raging sea, yet he is not hurt by the whale’s sharp teeth or tongue. He is simply swallowed whole without any damage to his body and then finds himself inside warm, soft, flesh, probably the stomach. In Hebrew, the phrase “Belly of the fish” shares the same root as womb, meaning a birthplace. The difference, however, is that the belly of Jonah’s fish is not comfortable. There, he is unable to move, just lying flat and surrounded by the trembling, fishy air until the whale spits him back out. In that suffocating space, never comfortable, what kind of change might happen to Jonah? And why was that space essential for the changes he would go through across the four chapters?
The story begins with God calling a prophet named Jonah and saying, “Go to the great city of Nineveh and cry out against it, for their wickedness has come up before me.” But Jonah didn’t want to go.
Who is Jonah?
Jonah is a complex figure.
Jonah - A Man of Egocentrism
First of all, he is deeply egocentric. A commentary even calls it “selfish egoism.” As we say in Korea, “You swallow what is sweet and spit out what is bitter.” In the story, when God provides a plant to shade his head, Jonah rejoices. But when a worm destroys the plant and the shade is gone, Jonah becomes angry at God, because he sees the world as being centred around him. His comfort and his preferences are the standard by which he judges what should happen, even when thinking about God’s work and compassion for others.
Jonah lives selfishly; he can only accept what feels right or comfortable to him. He accepts God’s compassion when it aligns with his perspective, but when it extends to those he dislikes, he resents it, even if it is still God’s compassion. He cannot accept that grace and compassion exceed his own comfort, concerns, and the circle of people he wants to protect.
So, Jonah, a man of egocentrism, refuses to go to Nineveh - not because he doubts God, but because he doesn’t want them (foreigners, enemies, oppressors) to receive God’s mercy.
God says, “Go to Nineveh.” Jonah says “I don’t like that assignment.”
Jonah - A Wounded Prophet
Another way to look at Jonah is to see him as a wounded prophet.
Nineveh is not only a “repentant city” in the story of Jonah. Historically, it was the capital of the ancient Assyrian Empire, located in what is now northern Iraq. It was one of the largest cities of its time, with more than 120,000 people. The Assyrian Empire was known for its violent and brutal rule, subjugating, massacring, and plundering neighbouring peoples until it fell to Babylon in 612 BCE.
In the book, God sends Jonah to proclaim repentance to that enormous, frightening city. Shockingly, Nineveh repents, and God relents.
The story unfolds almost like a satire, a bit theatrical. After Jonah is vomited out, he turns around, but not with passion. God placed him in the belly of the fish and saved him from death in the storm, so now his steps move toward Nineveh. But as he walks through that city, which would take three days to cross, he can hardly bring himself to speak. The words come out, but not from a willing heart. He simply makes a short statement: “Repent and be saved!” He still does not like the idea of saving the infamously wicked city from destruction.
To his surprise, everyone in the city, the king, the people, even the animals, immediately put on sackcloth and ashes. All living beings repent. God changes the plan and saves the city. And to Jonah, that is disgusting. This ego-centric prophet becomes very angry because God’s mercy has expanded beyond what he can accept.
But if we look at Jonah as a wounded prophet, we can understand his anger.
If we translate this into today’s world, Nineveh can represent a nation many may deem “beyond repentance,” a violent empire, enriched by colonization, racial oppression, apartheid, economic exploitation (domestic and international), war and the militarism that profits from it. Seen through this frame, Jonah is a prophet from a wounded people, a victim of empire, whom God asks to proclaim mercy for the oppressor. That is an almost unbearable calling. Nineveh represents an imperial power, rich, self-justifying and destructive; Jonah represents those who have every reason to resent Nineveh. He is a moral resister who cannot bear the thought of God forgiving an empire that has not repented, or been punished, enough. Repentance after being the oppressor for so long can’t restore the harm done, the damage Ninevah has made in the lives of the nations and people who suffered under their dictate. So, his flight becomes a protest: “I will not go to Nineveh, they don’t deserve - they can’t have God’s mercy.” That’s why this story is so haunting, because we can understand Jonah’s anger.
Another example of understanding Jonah as a wounded prophet is one I can relate to more personally. Suppose someone who has shown racism in many ways suddenly begins to understand white privilege, reflects on their wrongdoing, and becomes a teacher against it, celebrated as a model white leader. But what if that person benefits from the turnaround? What if they keep their position or leadership because of it? Jonah’s struggle names that scandal of mercy.
We can understand the struggles of wounded prophets. It is hard. It can feel unfair. It makes sense that Jonah, the wounded prophet, feels reluctant to extend God’s blessings to the oppressor, to those who have caused harm, injustice, inequality. But what, then, is God asking of him? And what is God asking of the oppressed? And, while we’re at it, who are the oppressed?
Christian Nationalism - Same Words, Different Gospel
Now, let’s shift Jonah’s position and circumstance. Really shifted! He can also be seen as a Christian nationalist. In this interpretation, Nineveh is not so much the empire of harm, but rather the foreigners, the enemies, those who are scary outsiders to the nation.
At the heart of Christian nationalism is one key belief that God’s justice, compassion, and mercy belong primarily to our (whoever we are) nation.
Christian nationalism is the belief that a nation is chosen by God and should be governed by Christian values and Christian leaders. True citizens, in this view, must be “Christian” in character.
Such a nation, obviously the United States, is now struggling with this very ideology. This is not something new in the West or in North America. When the United Church of Canada first sought union in 1925, part of its vision also involved assimilation into what were considered (Christian) Canadian virtues. The residential schools, too, were shaped by what was believed to be a Christian ideal.
I used to think Christian nationalism was simply a political movement or wave. I didn’t seriously or deeply realize that it reaches far beyond politics, into the personal, emotional, and even spiritual realms of those influenced by it, those who are passionate about it—until (again) I watched the two-hour-plus memorial service for Charlie Kirk.
Just as we see throughout the book of Jonah, it is as if God is saying, “You speak my words, but your heart is not my will.” Jonah thinks of mercy, but for him, mercy belongs to Israel, not to others. The mercy that God embodies and the mercy that Jonah understands are not only completely different in scope but also in nature.
That is the problem with Christian nationalism. They speak scripture, and they even say they are devoted to and follow the Gospel, but their direction runs opposite to the gospel. Like Jonah, Christian nationalism speaks “in God’s name” or “for the love of Christ,” but it remains exclusive, serving only what they consider to be the right citizens, strengthening their own insular nation.
In the memorial service for Charlie Kirk, the founder of Turning Point USA, all of the speakers said that they grieve, mourn, and carry his mission and legacy of faith, forgiveness, love, transformation, courage, and challenging the status quo. I was shocked to hear how these transformative and meaningful words could mean something so different from what I hold in my faith and understanding.
We use the same spiritual language, but the meanings are different. The tricky part is that words like faith, courage, forgiveness, love, and transformation are universal. They touch the religious, emotional, human, and spiritual realms deep within every person. These calls are powerful. They transform ordinary people’s hearts, like ours, and lift the spirit. They reorient our lives toward discipline, strength, and hope. Everyone who is touched by them is changed by them.
And that is the dangerous part too, because using that same deep human and spiritual dimension, Christian nationalism reshapes these values as if they belong only to their own churches, their families, their kind, their race, their class, their cause, or their nation. They are Jonah’s Israel; the world is hateful Ninevah. God’s grace and compassion no longer extend beyond those boundaries. They are not permitted to reach those who are seen as different, threatening, or unworthy.
In the language of the gospel, Christian nationalism shifts the purpose and limits God, just as Jonah once did. It moves from welcoming and blessing the other to protecting our borders and rejecting whatever is seen as threatening or counter to the narrative. Fear, baptized as faith, is the quiet engine of Christian nationalism — never love.
Then what does God think about all of this?
In the Book of Jonah, God simply throws Jonah into the belly of the fish, that yucky and very uncomfortable space for understanding. Jonah’s egocentrism, his wounded heart, and his Christian or Jewish nationalism have brought the raging storm in the world. That is how the story unfolds in the first chapter.
Egocentrism, wounded rigidity — a stony heart — and Christian nationalism all give birth to chaos in the world and deepen polarization, which is calamity itself.
So, what is God’s solution? God’s compassion catches the drowning Jonah and places him in the grace of an uncomfortable space. It is not punishment, but a safe and brave space to begin a journey of radical re-exploration of what faith, compassion, and mercy truly mean. It becomes a journey toward something greater and more transformative, something capable of overcoming egocentrism, wounded resentment, Christian nationalism, and any sense of moral superiority.
That is what ends the storm and brings calm to the world.
Faith Forward
Christian nationalists seem to want us to believe they are reaching a “lost generation,” especially young white men who feel displaced in today’s culture. Being male, white, and Christian once meant belonging at the center, now diversity, feminism, immigration, and LGBTQ+ voices shape public life. (That’s what they say)
They say these young men feel, “I’m not welcome. I’m under attack,” and that Christian nationalism gives them what society no longer does: purpose, honor, and belonging. God’s grace and understanding for them, not for the world outside their Christian nation.
But the young people I have met tell a different story. The “lost generation”? They are not lost at all. They are searching, just as a phone constantly searches for a signal. When given a safe space, they look you in the eye, ask honest questions, and say things like, “I come to church because I want to know who I am as a Christian. I want to learn more about the Christianity that has been passed down to me, or that I have discovered for myself.” Their faith is sincere and alive.
Youth and young adults are not looking for masculinity that proves strength, or for a gospel that grants earthly power, or for belonging that depends on excluding others. They open their Bibles, and even a single word like wisdom can move them deeply.
There are all kinds of Christian voices online, on TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram reels. Yes, there are Christian nationalists and street preachers trying to capture the hearts of these young seekers. And still, our youth keep searching.
We can and must be the kind of community children, youth and young adults seek - and find. A community like Jonah’s belly, uncomfortable yet safe, courageously re-exploring Christianity together - all ages, together. A place for finding/creating the meaning of faith, compassion, grace, mercy, and justice through what Brian McLaren calls “theological detoxification.”
As Shane Claiborne writes in Faith Forward: A Dialogue on Children, Youth, and a New Kind of Christianity, “What do you fall in love with about God, about the life and the way of Jesus?”
“The gospel spreads through fascination.”
What we share with our young people, our children and youth, must be what fascinates us about God’s love.
We want a Christianity that fascinates the world by the way we love.
And if we are Jonah today, God is inviting us to spend three days and three nights in the belly of the whale with the young people — to rediscover faith together in that space.
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