A faithless and twisted generation
Wants answers, has no imagination
For wondering, wandering in unknowns,
For honoring wisdom besides its own.
It’s a faithless age that demands belief
In its preferences and policies,
Consumed with removing all difference
That presents a threat to its existence,
Building a world where mercy’s forbidden,
Grace is locked out, and love must stay hidden.
So it was for people in Nineveh,
Victorious warriors sure of a
Glory possessed over all other lands
By means of pure violence in their hands,
Believing in it with strength, mind, and soul,
Obsessed with a lie that made them feel whole.
The lie: “Ev’ryone else is worthless dust.
We are the good ones. In ourselves we trust.”
Then came a prophet, unasked, from the Lord.
He smelled like death, said he’d been there before.
To the fearsome force this city enjoyed
He said, “Forty days, Nineveh destroyed.”
Before, this proud folk had only believed
In power they held, results they could see.
So why trust this prophet who reeked of death?
Truths of the grave and of life were his breath.
And the people believed God. They fasted,
Dressed up in sackcloth, sat down in ashes.
Though the promised destruction never came,
The people didn’t feel like they’d been gamed.
They were alive! escaped death they deserved!
Violence vanquished by faith, by God’s word.
Judgment they bring to all generations
Who mock the grace of their liberation.
As far from God as a person can go,
Primordial chaos, belly of Sheol,
Beyond right and wrong, beyond life and death,
The Lord had heard Jonah cry in distress.
Jesus would be there, too. Jesus would know
True forsakenness, the end of ego.
Jesus, Jonah, and the Queen of Sheba
Come empty of self, ready to bring a
Message and—more than a message—a truth
About our hearts, our loves, and our values.
They know the codes of this generation:
Self-reliance, self-determination,
Freedom—whatever that’s supposed to mean
When it’s used to excuse limitless need.
The Queen of Sheba sees these vain pursuits,
Ninevites—with Jonah—study the roots
Of your careless, heedless, untrusting ways
Of my confident, self-satisfied rage.
It doesn’t require a prophet to see
How pain gets dished out: gratuitously.
A wounded and wounding generation,
Mass producer of alienation,
Snaps back, “It’s a pious deceptive ploy
To say, ‘Any day you’ll all be destroyed!’
Smug self-righteous types always sound so sure:
They find a disease to sell you their cure.
‘Repent!,’ they preach, ‘of your greed and vi’lence!’
But all they have is faith’s puffed-up silence.”
Silence. That’s true. Those awful days of death
When love has been taken, justice has slept,
When hope is for suckers, grace all concealed,
When plagues are no longer abstract but real,
The Queen of Sheba, Jonah, and Jesus
Know what it means that faith might deceive us,
That in our fear of loss and rejection
We cannot dare to trust resurrection.
A broken, upside-down generation
Wishes for signs, demands demonstration.
The sign of Jonah released from death’s mouth;
The wisdom of Sheba, Sage of the South;
Spirit and Scripture witness have given
To see and believe: Jesus is risen.
Martin Lohrmann
Wartburg Seminary Online Chapel
Wants answers, has no imagination
For wondering, wandering in unknowns,
For honoring wisdom besides its own.
It’s a faithless age that demands belief
In its preferences and policies,
Consumed with removing all difference
That presents a threat to its existence,
Building a world where mercy’s forbidden,
Grace is locked out, and love must stay hidden.
So it was for people in Nineveh,
Victorious warriors sure of a
Glory possessed over all other lands
By means of pure violence in their hands,
Believing in it with strength, mind, and soul,
Obsessed with a lie that made them feel whole.
The lie: “Ev’ryone else is worthless dust.
We are the good ones. In ourselves we trust.”
Then came a prophet, unasked, from the Lord.
He smelled like death, said he’d been there before.
To the fearsome force this city enjoyed
He said, “Forty days, Nineveh destroyed.”
Before, this proud folk had only believed
In power they held, results they could see.
So why trust this prophet who reeked of death?
Truths of the grave and of life were his breath.
And the people believed God. They fasted,
Dressed up in sackcloth, sat down in ashes.
Though the promised destruction never came,
The people didn’t feel like they’d been gamed.
They were alive! escaped death they deserved!
Violence vanquished by faith, by God’s word.
Judgment they bring to all generations
Who mock the grace of their liberation.
As far from God as a person can go,
Primordial chaos, belly of Sheol,
Beyond right and wrong, beyond life and death,
The Lord had heard Jonah cry in distress.
Jesus would be there, too. Jesus would know
True forsakenness, the end of ego.
Jesus, Jonah, and the Queen of Sheba
Come empty of self, ready to bring a
Message and—more than a message—a truth
About our hearts, our loves, and our values.
They know the codes of this generation:
Self-reliance, self-determination,
Freedom—whatever that’s supposed to mean
When it’s used to excuse limitless need.
The Queen of Sheba sees these vain pursuits,
Ninevites—with Jonah—study the roots
Of your careless, heedless, untrusting ways
Of my confident, self-satisfied rage.
It doesn’t require a prophet to see
How pain gets dished out: gratuitously.
A wounded and wounding generation,
Mass producer of alienation,
Snaps back, “It’s a pious deceptive ploy
To say, ‘Any day you’ll all be destroyed!’
Smug self-righteous types always sound so sure:
They find a disease to sell you their cure.
‘Repent!,’ they preach, ‘of your greed and vi’lence!’
But all they have is faith’s puffed-up silence.”
Silence. That’s true. Those awful days of death
When love has been taken, justice has slept,
When hope is for suckers, grace all concealed,
When plagues are no longer abstract but real,
The Queen of Sheba, Jonah, and Jesus
Know what it means that faith might deceive us,
That in our fear of loss and rejection
We cannot dare to trust resurrection.
A broken, upside-down generation
Wishes for signs, demands demonstration.
The sign of Jonah released from death’s mouth;
The wisdom of Sheba, Sage of the South;
Spirit and Scripture witness have given
To see and believe: Jesus is risen.
Martin Lohrmann
Wartburg Seminary Online Chapel