When God called the prophet Jonah to go preach to Nineveh, Jonah did not argue or negotiate. He simply got up, went down to the nearest port, and bought a ticket headed for the far side of the known world.

Nineveh was the last place he wanted to go. So he aimed for Tarshish instead — somewhere near the edge of the known world, a distant, idealized port associated with gold and ivory and adventure. The jumping-off place. Paradise.

I understand that impulse completely. Early in my ministry, when relationships in the congregation got messy and difficult — as they always do — I used to daydream about leaving it all behind, getting a job on a golf course on the driving range, operating the cart that picks up range balls…. People might take pop shots at me, but at the end of the day, it’s not the kind of job you take home with you.

We all have our version of Tarshish. The fantasy of the simpler life, the fresh start, the place where the problems won't follow us. The perfect job, the perfect location, the clean slate somewhere new.

The pastor and writer Eugene Peterson said it plainly: "Whatever else Tarshish is — Tarshish is a lie."

Because the problems do follow us. The difficult relationships, the unresolved grief, the parts of ourselves we were hoping to leave behind — they buy a ticket on the same boat. We can't outrun ourselves. And we can't outrun God.

Most often, what we are running from has a way of being exactly what we most need to turn toward.

Prayer: Lord God, we confess that we have our versions of Tarshish — the escapes we reach for when life gets hard. Gently turn us around. Help us to face what we have been avoiding, trusting that your presence is with us there too. Amen.

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