"Who put that cup of coffee
there where it could be knocked over?"
"Who on earth left that shoe
where someone could fall over it?"
Have you ever
been surprised at your reaction when something very ordinary doesn't go as
expected? Maybe frustration approached
real anger when you spilled your latte or the keys you just had in hand
disappeared.
I got to thinking about this when I
re-read the story of Jonah and the gourd plant. (Jonah 4:5-11). He was angry
because God was so willing to forgive the people of Nineveh. In Jonah's mind,
they deserved strict justice, not God's mercy; in his mind, God was wrong.
Steaming with frustration, Jonah
rigged a shelter from the sun and desert wind and settled down to rest. Then
God caused a leafy bush to grow up overnight to give more shade. Jonah was
delighted.
The next day, though, God provided a
worm to destroy the plant; Jonah's pleasure died with the plant. Jonah
expressed his frustration: "It's better to be dead than alive!" God asked him: "Why are you so
angry?" and reminded Jonah he wasn't the one responsible for the plant; it
was God. God then reminded the prophet that if he could be so concerned about
one little plant, shouldn't God be concerned about a great city with its
120,000 people and many animals?
This really hit Jonah in a
vulnerable spot because earlier (4:2) he'd admitted that God's willingness to
forgive "those people" was the reason he ran away from the mission in
the first place. His frustration and anger were coming from a dark place in his
heart, one that judged easily and made personal priorities his prime
considerations. God's vision and his were poles apart.
There are also places in the New
Testament where human and divine visions don't mesh, as in the parable of the
laborers in the vineyard. When the owner paid the late-in-the-day workers as
much as the early morning ones, many had trouble seeing that mercy & compassion could balance the
scales of hourly wages.
Both these examples show me that
surface reactions to circumstances have the capacity to reveal our hidden value system. Where are our
emotions? What is it we are holding on to that skew our vision and temper? If
our blood comes close to boiling because of lost keys or spilled coffee, where
is the heat really coming from? Are
we angry with someone we need to forgive? A sibling? A co-worker? Ourselves?
Are we struggling over the same issue Jonah struggled with, putting compassion
over justice, mercy over revenge?
Maybe this season of Lent is a good
time to consider our reactions to ordinary circumstances. Are they in harmony
with their source, or could they be out of balance? If they are, we're not alone, and Jonah may
have something to say to us. Have an insightful Lenten season.
Sr. Colleen Winston, OSB
