One Choice That Could Change Everything

Rethinking Jonah: Not Just a Fish Tale

Let’s talk about alternate histories in the Bible. Not like Marvel-style timelines and Infinity Stones, but something deeper—something the book of Jonah might just be doing beneath the surface. Because while it’s not an alternate history in the sci-fi sense, Jonah reads like a theological reimagining of Israel’s past. A what-if that helps us navigate the present.

We've been spending time in Jonah on Sundays, and we began by acknowledging something critical: this story functions as myth or allegory. That's not a concession—it's a necessity. Understanding Jonah as story is key to receiving its meaning well. Because the genre itself is doing theological work.

A Story of What Could Have Been

In our second week with Jonah, I offered a provocative lens: what if Jonah is an alternate version of Israel’s history? A story told after the fact to help a wounded people imagine what might have been—and, more importantly, what still might be.

To see this, we need to go back to the only other place Jonah shows up in scripture: 2 Kings. There, he’s a court prophet who supports King Jeroboam II. A king who, according to Amos, was wealthy, corrupt, and complicit in systemic injustice. Amos calls him out; Jonah backs him up.

And here’s the rub. After Jeroboam’s reign, Assyria—from its capital in Nineveh—invades and conquers Israel. This is the historical backdrop against which the Book of Jonah unfolds.

Jonah: The Wealthy Prophet on the Run

When Jonah flees from God, he charters an entire boat—not just buys a ticket. The Hebrew verb sekar tells us he pays a wage, not a fare. He’s wealthy enough to hire the ship outright, and he’s loaded it down with cargo. This isn’t just a man running; it’s a man of means trying to leave it all behind.

And that’s significant. Because if Jonah is a supporter of Jeroboam’s regime, it makes sense that he’s wealthy. His running from God, then, isn't just about geography. It’s about running from a prophetic calling that might undermine his own comfort and privilege.

A Redemptive Reimagining

But the story doesn’t stop there. Jonah eventually reaches Nineveh, where the response to his message is absurdly enthusiastic. Everyone repents—even the animals. It’s meant to be over the top. It’s satire with a serious purpose.

And this is where the reimagining comes in. What if Jonah, instead of propping up Jeroboam, had spoken truth? What if he had gone to Israel’s enemies and offered grace instead of disdain? What if that one act had changed everything?

This isn’t just historical revisionism. It’s prophetic creativity. It’s a way of asking: what if our leaders had done something different? What if we had made another choice?

Grace That Rewrites the Future

And maybe that’s the real invitation here. Not to dwell on past mistakes with shame, but to let a new imagination shape our present. To ask: what if, in our relationships, our conflicts, our workplaces—what if we chose grace now? Not because it changes the past, but because it might still change the future.

That’s what the story of Jonah is about. It’s not a tale of a whale; it’s a call to re-see everything. A call to recognize that one decision, one act of courage, one choice to love when we could have hated—that might change everything tomorrow.

So today, maybe you're at a crossroads. Maybe you know the path you’ve walked and where it’s led. But what if you chose differently now? What if you spoke peace? What if you extended grace?

That’s how history changes. That’s the work of the prophetic imagination. And that’s the gift that stories like Jonah bring us when we read our Bibles creatively.