05.2. JONAH IN THE STORM

JONAH IN THE STORM

Jonah 1:4-16. WHEN we parted from Jonah a week ago, he was standing at the office-window of a merchant vessel in the act of paying his fare to Tarshish. When we part from him tonight he will be overboard, in consequence of his disobedience. God had commissioned him to go due east from Gath-hepher, 500 miles, to preach in Nineveh. He decided to ship for Tarshish, a thousand miles in exactly the opposite direction, for the ancient Tarshish was in Spain, just about where Gibraltar is now. When a man starts to run away from God he can hardly expect smooth sailing, and so this vessel had little more than cleared the harbor before a stiff breeze was in her canvas. And the farther asea they went the stronger that gale became until, by and by, a hurricane was on, and even the old mariners were so filled with alarm that they betook themselves to prayer, and “cried every man unto his God.” And while they prayed, they wrought, tossing the wares into the sea hoping to lighten the ship, and thereby save it from being broken. When a storm at sea becomes so severe that the captain concludes there is no hope unless God shall interpose; and, going over the vessel, calls upon every passenger to betake himself to prayer, it is a euroclydon indeed. But, to that very condition Jonah’s ship shortly came. And the old ship-master must have been surprised indeed, as he went down into the sides of the ship, and stumbled on this man, fast asleep. It requires no special activity of the imagination to see that the sea-tried captain laying hold upon Jonah and shaking him, wondering whether he were drunk, or fallen in a faint from fear. Even over these centuries we can hear him say, “What meanest thou, O sleeper! don’t you know our condition? Arise call upon thy God, if so be He will hear us that we perish not.” You know what came after that—the casting of the lots, the coming out of Jonah’s offence, endeavor of the seamen to save both themselves and him, and the final assent to Jonah’s request to be cast into the sea; the calm that followed, the sacrifice and the vows. But I want us to go into this Scripture tonight to trace there Jonah’s experience and his judgment.

I. His Experience.

“But the Lord sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken. Then the mariners were afraid and cried every man unto his god, and cast forth the wares that were in the ship to lighten it of them.”

God’s storm follows every sinning sinner.

If you ask me who are the men and women sailing life’s sea without chart or rudder, I should answer, “Those who are going on in their sin.” If you ask me, who are the men and women that must come into storms of sorrow, storms of suffering, storms of disease, and storms of death, that will whelm them, body and soul, I should answer, “Those who are going on in sin.”

Years ago I knew a young man who began to tipple and talk loudly of being temperate in all things. He defended his right to take a drink, and boasted his ability to stop when he pleased. He is in the storms now—storms of financial stress, storms of physical debility, storms of social degradation, storms of domestic unhappiness, storms of spiritual decline.

Years ago I knew a young woman who gave ear to Satanic whispers, and forsook the instruction of her youth, and already she has been cast overboard, and in a little time she will lay dead in the deep. And every young man and every young woman starting out tonight as they started, will find that God will send His storms of judgment after them. And, in the very hours in which they ought to be at rest, they will find themselves in the agony of moral earth-quake and mental whirlwind, “for he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption.”

Again, every impenitent man is in danger of falling asleep. “But Jonah had gone down into the sides of the ship, and he lay and was fast asleep.” The critics have called attention to this statement and tried to make it the basis of an argument against the historicity of Jonah. They say a man who is running away from God would not likely be asleep, and still less likely sleep in such a storm as is here reported. But such a criticism marks the man who makes it as a superficial observer of life, and without familiarity with physiology.

There is scarcely a touch in the book of Jonah so true to universal experience as this report of his sound slumbers. Whenever a man refuses to be obedient to God, if he be keenly sensitive to divine authority, mental restlessness will result, and sleep will go from his eyes. So long as he continues to debate against evident duty, the restlessness will remain. But, when once he had made up his mind upon a certain course, and sets about carrying it out, the question being settled, tired nature will react and deep slumbers will ensue. I have no doubt that Jonah had lost many nights’ sleep over this matter. But that was before he had decided definitely what he would do. But now that he has decided, the mind was making up for lost time by unnatural slumber. What a picture this of the mental stupor into which he who continues in his sin is sure to come. People often wonder why men, known to be sinners, known to be transgressors of every righteous law, seem nevertheless to be at peace, filled with no misgivings, entertaining no fears. But that is no marvel, it is natural. The mind is so constituted that when we first go wrong it cries out against the iniquity; but if we continue indefinitely in an evil course, it ceases its remonstrance and a moral stupor ensues, and a great many will die in that same stupor, will go down to the grave without ever being awakened to their true condition.

Some time since, at Portland, Me., I was on “The Kentucky” of the North Atlantic Squadron. There were several hundred people on board, tramping here and there, and talking incessantly, and yet in one room through which we went, a half dozen sailors lay sound asleep. Nothing that we said disturbed them. Everything in the natural world has its counterpart in the spiritual. And, tonight, there are men whose souls sleep under the sound of the Gospel, and despite all cries of “Awake thou sleeper!” their spirits are undisturbed. It is reported that in the year 1775, the captain of a Greenland whaling vessel found himself, at night, surrounded by icebergs, and lay to until morning. When the day dawned he looked about and saw a ship near by. He hailed it, but no answer came. Getting into a boat with some of his crew he pushed toward this mysterious craft, and when he came on board found a man standing before the log-book. He saluted him, but no answer. He approached the man and found he was frozen to death. The log-book was dated 1762. Going over the vessel he found sailor after sailor frozen to death, some in the hammock, others in the cabin. For thirteen years these men who, to all outward appearances, had been at the post of duty, had been deaf to the shout of any vessel going that way. And oh, beloved, I believe tonight that there are all about us men whose bodies are at the post of secular duty, but whose souls are held by a slumber that will be broken by nothing short of the rising of God’s storm of judgment. When Aaron Burr was a student at Princeton, he was brought under special conviction of sin in connection with a series of meetings. He went into the country and stayed two weeks. When he returned he said the subject of religion was settled with him, and it was settled against the claims of the Gospel. From that time his soul was as dead. No matter how tender the preacher’s appeal, it never touched him, for his spiritual lethargy remained until the end was on, and that soul stood before God to be judged for deeds done in the body. And yet, God mercifully sends His messengers to sleeping souls. Jonah was not left undisturbed to perish in this storm. God has His minister in this shipmaster, and God treated Jonah as He treated Lot when Sodom was about to burn. You remember it is written of that ancient unworthy, “When the morning arose, then the angels hastened Lot, saying, Arise and take thy wife and two daughters which art here, lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city. And while he lingered the men laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters, the Lord being merciful unto him, and they brought him forth and set him without the city” (Genesis 19:15-16).

It is often true that men do not appreciate the endeavors God’s agents make to save them. Mr. Moody asked a policeman, whom he passed on the street in Chicago one night, if he was a Christian. The question jarred on that policeman’s feelings just as the shipmaster’s shaking disturbed Jonah’s nerves. He doubled up his fist and threatened to knock Mr. Moody into the mud, but afterward he came to his senses and wondered whether this man was sent of God. One morning before daybreak he rapped at Mr. Moody’s door and when admitted into his room he said, “You, sir, aroused me to a sense of my sin, and now won’t you pray for me that I may be saved?” The ministry of the shipmaster is a ministry that men in sin dislike, and yet it is the very ministry for lack of which those same men are dying.

Beloved, cannot we afford to be rebuffed occasionally by those who would prefer to sleep and sink than be wakened up to be saved, if in return for our rebuff we may see them roused to a sense of their danger and hear them call upon their God ? More than twenty years ago, I was walking a country road one cold winter night. In one corner of a rail fence I saw by the moonlight the form of a man; and, groins; up to him I found that he was drunk and insensible. Hurrying to my home I notified two older brothers, and we three went back to rouse him, if possible, and if not, to carry him into the house, where by the warm fire his chilled blood might circulate again. When we shook him he moaned, “Let me alone.” When we laid hold on him and lifted him up, he swore at us and feebly fought. But despite all that, we dragged him along and put him into the colored man’s cabin, and cared for him until he came to himself. He was an ignorant fellow, who knew little concerning the higher traits of character, but ever after the night in which we saved his life, he was our steadfast friend. I often think of Jesus’ dealing with the Gadarene. Don’t you remember how Mark tells that story? When the Gadarene saw Jesus approaching him he cried with a loud voice and said, “What have I to do with Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of the Most High God? I adjure Thee, by God, that Thou torment me not!” That is the speech of the soul that would remain in sin, the soul that does not want its spiritual stupor disturbed. And yet that same man, when once he is dispossessed of the devils, will be so devoted to Jesus Christ, that when others are praying Him to depart out of their coasts, this redeemed one will pray Him that he may be with Him. There are many people in the world who take pains to make friends of such of their fellows as will likely prove faithful throughout all time. But I can tell you how to make unto yourself friends whose affection will increase through all eternity. Accept the ministry of the shipmaster! Go about shaking up the sleeping! And every man that you bring to rise and call upon his God will live to praise your name. I believe the best friends I have ever had in this world have been the men and women, the boys and girls, Jesus Christ has privileged me to point to Him and baptise in His name.

But, note further, to slumber in sin is not to keep it secret. “And they said, every one to his fellow, Come, let us cast lots that we may know for whose cause this evil is upon us. So they cast lots, and the lot fell upon Jonah.” It is always so! The one thing that cannot be covered up is crime. Sin of any sort is like a fire. It will find its way to the surface, and with a red tongue tell its own tale. Chas. Spurgeon illustrates this fact in one of his sermons. He says, “Beware of committing acts which it will be necessary to conceal. There is a singular poem by Hood, called ‘The Dream of Eugene Aram.’ A most remarkable piece it is indeed, illustrating the point on which I am now dwelling. Aram has murdered a man, cast his body into the river, ‘A sluggish water, black as ink, the depth was so extreme.’ The next morning he visited the scene of his guilt, “‘And sought the black, accursed pool, With a wild, misgiving eye; And he saw the dead in the river bed, For the faithless stream was dry.’

Next he covered the corpse with heaps of leaves, but a mighty wind swept through the wood and left the secret bare before the sun.

“ ‘Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep, Or land or sea, though it should be Ten thousand fathoms deep.’ ”

Now we turn from Jonah’s experience to II. His Judgment.

"Then said they unto him, what shall we do unto thee that the sea may be calm unto us? for the sea wrought and was tempestuous. And he said, Take me up and cast me forth into the sea, so shall the sea be calm unto you, for I know that for my sake this great tempest is upon you.”

Jonah assented to the justice of his judgment. In some measure every sinner must do that. Men do not rebel against God without realising the wrong of it. Most men, I believe, do not expect to escape the storms which their sins invite. The iniquities in which they indulge are so passed upon by conscience, when roused by the conviction of the Holy Ghost, that they must say, as David said, “I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee, and Thee only have I sinned and done this evil in Thy sight, that Thou mightest be justified when Thou speakest and clear when Thou judgest.” The sailors saw the necessity of this judgment. At first they hoped to escape it, and “the men rowed hard,” literally, “dug their oars into the deep,” to bring them to the land, but they could not, for the sea wrought and was tempestuous against them. “It is not possible for the innocent and guilty to go on together.” Unless the latter can be converted, divorcement is absolutely essential to the former. That profane associate of yours; that cigarette fiend you call a companion; that tippler with the intoxicating cup; that immodest maid whose companionship you have shared,—you are not safe, if you continue in association with these. So long as you are laboring to the utmost to bring them to a better life, God will not let you go down. But, failing in that endeavor, you must do one of two things, separate from them, or sink with them. The most effective emmissary that Satan has at work in Minneapolis tonight is an evil associate, and there is not a man or a woman starting out to sail life’s sea with such an one who is not in danger of the tempest and storm. I never see a young person part from an evil companion, but I want to cry, “Bravo!” and turn my ear heavenward to hear the shout of the glad angels who celebrate the soul’s victory.

And, finally, God’s judgment seemed to be Jonah’s end.

“So they took up Jonah and cast him forth into the sea, and the sea ceased from her raging. Then the men feared the Lord exceeding, and offered a sacrifice unto the Lord and made vows.” The disobedient goes overboard. The disobedient descends into the deep. The disobedient is regarded as dead, and all of this is a symbol of the actual experience of the soul that disobeys God, and dwells in sin. I do not know how many of you may have been present when an unpardoned man was passing away. I have seen the sinner die. I have seen the soul go down into the deep without God and without hope, self-condemned, and commiserated. It is not a pleasant sight. It is not an experience to be desired. It is a sight that makes angels weep. It is an experience that makes devils laugh. Hell’s happiness is heaven’s sorrow. And, when the soul goes overboard and is left to sink in the sea of sin, never to see the haven of rest, all good men should sob and all bad men shake with fear.

I am not going to take up the story of the fish tonight. The last verse of this chapter really belongs with the chapter which follows, hence we will stop here to ask, "Are there any in this house tonight who are going away from God? Are there any in this house tonight after whom God has sent His storms of affliction and sorrows? Are there any here who have been slumbering in forgetfulness of judgment? Are there any here who have been roused up by some minister of good ? Are there any here whose sins have come up before them to condemn them, and compel them to consent to the justice of divine judgment? If so, let me implore you now to repent. Let me implore you to return to Him, away from whom you have been running, and let me whisper in your ears tonight the promise of my God that He will forgive you, and save you; for the Scripture saith, “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him, and to our God for He will abundantly pardon.” I don’t care if even you are among the shipwrecked, there is yet salvation for you, if you will receive it.

Dr. Talmage tells the story of a man who left his family in Massachusetts, and sailed from Boston to China to trade there. Upon the coast of China, in the midst of a night of storm, he made shipwreck. His body was washed upon the beach senseless—all his money gone. In the streets of Canton he had to beg to keep from starving, and he who had gone out as a captain was too proud to confess his accident to the friends at home, or return on a ship as a private sailor. But after two or three years of fruitless endeavor to regain his fortune, he choked down his pride and sailed for Boston. Arriving at that city he took train for his home in the center of the State. In the middle of the night, as he walked up to that cottage, in the bright moonlight, the old home looked to him like heaven. He tapped on the servant’s window and she let him in. He inquired where his wife and child were sleeping, and fearing the shock of arousing them he quietly bent over to kiss his child’s cheek, and a tear fell upon his wife’s face, and she asked “who is there?” And he answered, “Mary.” And she knew his voice. No angels’ hearts were ever happier than were those in this house, because they had receive the wrecked one back again. And yet there is one heart in heaven that will be happier still tonight if some of you who have gone away from God, and who have sinned against God, come home to Him, and ask forgiveness, and take His proffered pardon, and that is the heart of God’s Son, who died that you might live, and loves you with an everlasting love.