A Merciless Missionary

Imagine for a moment that your church has sent a new missionary to Pyongyang, Tehran, or some other major urban center that feels dangerous and inhospitable to you. You’re excited for him, but you know it will be challenging to communicate the gospel in an unfamiliar culture. You might wonder if he’ll make it very long in such an intense ministry context. Your doubts are further fueled by an awareness that he’s questioned God’s judgment in the past and exhibited, let’s say, an independent spirit.

Now imagine that in this missionary’s first newsletter from the field, he announces that the entire city has turned to Christ. A public fast has been declared, and throngs line the streets, crying out for God’s mercy. Even the Supreme Leader or Ayatollah has gone on television to confess his sins and call his people to repentance. It all happened in response to a brief sermon that your missionary preached. You might be a little skeptical. But assuming you verified it was true, what would you expect him to do next? Go on a speaking tour? Write a book on keys to effective evangelism? Take early retirement? Our biblical protagonist finds himself in such a situation. His next move is to hunker down in a lean-to in the desert east of the city.  

Here’s the last big surprise of the book: it’s not just the Ninevites who need heart change. Despite all he’s been through, Jonah still needs it, too.

A Desperate Prayer

In the final chapter of the book of Jonah, God goes to work on His prophet once again. Remember, this isn’t Jonah’s first time in the spiritual ICU. Let’s review what happened the first time, back in chapter 2. We could call it Jonah’s “darkness retreat” at the Big Fish Lodge.  

I only recently heard of a darkness retreat. The idea seems to have caught on when Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers spent four days in complete isolation in an Oregon cabin specifically designed for sensory deprivation. He wanted to contemplate his future without distractions. For as little as $250 per night, you can apparently sit in a completely dark room, alone with your thoughts. The walls are painted dark blue or black to absorb any stray rays of light. Meals are delivered through a light-proof food box. No phones, noises, or other distractions. It's just an utterly dark cabin deep in a snowy forest. The goal, they say, is to become more present. To clear away the mental cobwebs and get back in touch with who you really are.^xlix

Can you imagine it? Now, suppose you’re in complete darkness but not in a comfortable room with plenty of air and a bed to stretch out on. Instead, you’ve been thrown into a raging sea and swallowed by a big fish. Instead of being served seafood, you’ve become seafood. You’re gasping for air in the pulsating intestinal cavity of a massive creature. For three days, you’re barely able to move. You are wet, cold, and dehydrated. Gastric juices are dissolving your skin. And if you were seasick on the ship, imagine how you’re feeling now!

Nineveh may have meant something like “a house for fish.”^l Jonah refused to go to Nineveh, so now, in a stroke of divine irony, he has a fish for his “house.” Amid the importance of what’s at stake here, I can see hints of God’s humor and awesome power. Resisting Him is foolish and futile. Jonah is contending with the creator of galaxies, the “God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land” (Jonah 1:9). Jonah has described this God, with overtones of national pride, to non-Jewish sailors. Now, he is experiencing God’s tremendous disciplinary power. Remember, this isn’t just an allegory. It happened.

Jonah’s underwater darkness retreat is strong medicine. In one of many expressions of irony, a man who thus far has been disinclined to ask for God’s help, whether for himself or others, is finally driven to his knees. Jonah belatedly does what the pagan sailors much more readily did and begged him to do (Jonah 1:6, 14). He “calls out” to his God. He has bottomed out, going down “deep in the realm of the dead,” engulfed in waves, suffocating in seaweed, feeling “banished from [God’s] sight” (Jonah 2:2, 4). Words fail to describe the severity of his predicament adequately.  

Jonah has to be brought to the end of himself before he comes to grips with reality. Often, we learn life's greatest lessons in the most painful of circumstances. From inside the belly of the fish, Jonah turns to prayer. A full eight verses of the 48 verses of the book are devoted to his cry of desperation.

Calling out to God is one of the themes of the book of Jonah. Jonah’s prayer of repentance provides the center spine. Jonah’s prayer employs a chiastic structure that emphasizes the importance and beauty of the core message: “Salvation comes from the Lord” (Jonah 2:9). Some have even argued that this is, in fact, the central thought of the whole Bible. A prayer that begins in desperation concludes with a song of thanksgiving. Structurally, and through wordplay and a pivot from narrative to poetry (a Hebrew technique for emphasis), the book’s main message and the central role of prayer are highlighted. Jonah finally acknowledges God’s hesed—His steadfast love. For the moment, at least, Jonah recognizes and appreciates God’s nature.

Prayer is a feature of true humility and repentance. We acknowledge His sovereignty and superiority when we call out to God for mercy. We recognize that we are wrong and can’t fix things. We catch a glimpse of reality—of God as He is and ourselves in our true condition. We recognize that we are helpless before Him and without Him. We finally look to God’s temple, the place of His presence and power. That’s what Israel refused to do, and Jonah, in his pride, wasn’t willing to do it despite his privileged role as God’s spokesperson.

Whereas the sailors and the Ninevites readily prayed, confessed, sacrificed and made vows, Jonah only called out to God as a last resort. This revealing sequence happens in both halves of the Jonah narrative, giving us insight into the fundamental condition of Jonah’s heart. Only when he spends time in the most humiliating and restrictive circumstances does Jonah awaken to the realities of who he is in relation to God and His mission.

A Smashing Success

Fast-forwarding once again to Nineveh, Jonah has hit a home run. More accurately, God has been remarkably merciful once again despite His messenger’s inadequacies. Indeed, “Salvation comes from the Lord” (Jonah 2:9).

If I were the one writing the book of Jonah, I think I would have wrapped it up after chapter 3. That’s the logical, positive “Hallmark Channel” ending. Sure, Jonah disobeyed at first, but some quality time “down under” set him straight. He survived three days inside a fish and walked hundreds of miles through enemy territory. He preached in the imposing metropolis of a hostile empire. As a direct result of his ministry, well over 100,000 idolatrous people, led by the king himself, put on sackcloth, fasted, and pleaded for God’s mercy. Such a societal shift has never been seen before. Even the livestock joined in. Jonah is now a wildly successful prophet. He’s learned his lesson. There’s so much to celebrate!

But, strangely, there’s more to the story.

Chapter 4 should describe the follow-up to Nineveh’s repentance. Talk about a need for discipleship! Jonah is probably one of the most effective missionaries who has ever lived. If he were committed to helping the Assyrians learn to worship and obey Yahweh, Israel’s true God, he would surely be extremely busy. Jonah should have been cheering the Ninevites on and teaching them the marvelous theological truths that God had recently reinforced in his own life:

1. Who God is: “The God of heaven, who made the sea and the dry land” (Jonah 1:9).
2. What true worship looks like: “Those who cling to idols turn away from God’s love for them” (Jonah 2:8).
3. God’s offer of amnesty: “A gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity” (Jonah 4:2).

But no. Instead, we find Jonah sulking on a hillside outside the city.

The book of Jonah doesn’t end with the celebration we expect because, as we’ve noted since the beginning, this story isn’t just about the salvation of Nineveh. It has “a yet greater climax, the true goal and objective of the whole book. Because God must teach His servant (and us through him) certain truths about the narrowness of his heart and the boundless greatness of God’s own blessed heart.”^li The closing chapter emphasizes how much Jonah still has to learn, even after God has used him remarkably.

The Slow Learner

In the Bible, a 40-day period is mentioned at least ten times. It consistently signifies a period of testing and spiritual challenge. At some point during or after the 40-day warning period, Jonah realizes that God isn’t going to destroy Nineveh, and his pent-up frustration erupts. While this has been a time of testing for Nineveh, it has also been a test for Jonah, and he fails. Any remorse he may have shown in the fish has evaporated in the desert heat, and he is back to his cantankerous, self-centered default settings. Established attitudes and worldviews die hard. Jonah may have learned to cooperate with God outwardly when necessary for survival, but his heart still isn’t in it. Being with the Ninevites has reinforced his disdain for them and their culture. Despite his preaching to others, it appears that Jonah does not yet grasp, or at least doesn’t appreciate at an emotional level, God’s compassion and loving plan for the 99.9 percent of the world that is not Jewish.

Jonah is so disappointed at Nineveh’s forgiveness that he lashes out at God, “I knew all along You were going to do this! See, I was justified in heading for Tarshish. I knew You were too gracious to destroy Nineveh like You said. These horrible people manipulated You and took advantage of Your softness. I don’t want to live in such an unfair world. Just kill me like You almost did before!” It’s as if Jonah is saying, “The more I know You, the less I like You!”

And God agrees with him, “Yes, you’re right. This was my intention from the beginning. I wanted to have mercy on this great city.” God is an emotional being, too. Much as Jesus would one day grieve over Jerusalem, so God grieves over the great city of Nineveh, shrouded in spiritual darkness. Its people can’t even “tell their right hand from their left” (Jonah 4:11). They’ve lost sight of the difference between right and wrong. As a result, Nineveh is on a collision course with disaster. God called Jonah to be His instrument of correction and mercy, only to find Himself with an even bigger challenge. His chosen servant is more belligerent than the crusty sailors or the violent Ninevites. It seems they weren’t the only ones who had idols—values that encroached on God’s rightful place in their hearts. Jonah had his own as well. And they were well entrenched.

Have you ever been terribly wronged by someone? Perhaps they’ve done something to you that permanently altered your life, and they can never compensate you for it. Once resentment and unforgiveness take root, they can be hard to give up. If you were to forgive the offender, you would give up the psychological leverage you feel you deserve. You would release them from their debt to you. Releasing such a person, much less welcoming them into your life, is very hard to do. But it’s a key to true freedom.

For the second time in the book, Jonah has been driven to prayer, but it’s not a prayer of repentance. Instead, it’s a prayer of resentment. Jonah is so angry that he talks in suicidal terms (Jonah 4:3). God’s mercy is driving him mad. This time, though, rather than incarcerating Jonah inside an animal, God takes a gentler but still firm approach. He understands that the core of Jonah’s issue is self-centeredness. The Lord responds with a penetrating question, “Is it right for you to be angry?” (Jonah 4:4).

Jonah, having been commissioned a second time at the beginning of chapter 3, is now in the midst of a heart procedure that takes place over, at least symbolically, three key days. The first day, he walked into the “house for fish.” He preached a message of coming judgment, and the city repented in short order. Then he went east of the city and sat down under his makeshift shelter (Jonah 4:5). It was the second time he relaxed by himself when people nearby were in danger.  

Now, on the second key day, God gives Jonah a real-life object lesson. He provides a leafy plant to shade him from the Middle Eastern sun (Jonah 4:6). This makes Jonah very happy. I can testify that Iraq in the summer can be unbearably hot! Jonah spends the day patiently awaiting the destruction of Nineveh. On the third day, God provides a worm and a blazing hot sun (Jonah 4:7). Jonah, feeling entitled, makes it known that he is not pleased. While God grieves over a lost world, Jonah grieves over his lost shade. Day three is a very hot, very bad day.

Next, God follows up with a second round of inquiry, “Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?” (Jonah 4:9). Jonah declares he has every right to be angry and even has the right to die—the right to remove himself from God’s sanctifying process and plan. Like his nation, Jonah doesn’t really understand God’s grace or the scale of His loving, global heart. The book concludes with a question that cuts through all the clutter and echoes through the halls of redemptive history: “Should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh?” (Jonah 4:11).

Thankfully, unlike Jonah, you and I are much easier for God to work with, right? We don’t have our own self-serving lesser agendas like this renegade prophet, do we?

God is an amazing multi-tasker. Throughout this story, He has demonstrated His compassion for Nineveh and simultaneously taken Jonah on a journey of personal growth. God first blessed Jonah with an extraordinary privilege and responsibility, “Go and take my message of warning to one of the greatest cities in the world.” When Jonah rebelled, God didn’t destroy him. Instead, He sent a great wind (Jonah 1:4). Then He provided a great fish to swallow him just as he was about to drown (Jonah 1:17). God commanded the fish to vomit Jonah onto dry land (Jonah 2:10). Then He apparently blessed Jonah with recovered health and strength for the long journey. He protected him from the Assyrians and produced miraculous spiritual fruit. One thing is clear: God loves Jonah. The missing factor is Jonah’s love for God.

I am amazed at God’s grace in dealing with Jonah at this late stage of the story. God could easily have decommissioned him or consigned him to another fishy purgatory. Instead, He kept working with him. God is so patient with us!  

An Unsatisfying Ending

The book closes with God’s words of correction to Jonah. He says, in essence, “If you feel this bitter over the death of a plant that shaded you for a short time, how do you think I feel about the destiny of thousands of people whom I created in My image and daily sustain?” And with that, the story is over. It feels abrupt to us, but the Holy Spirit ends the story this way on purpose. The reader is left in the position of Jonah, pondering God’s provocative question.

I hope Jonah repented and went home to preach to Israel about God’s compassion for the least deserving. But it’s possible he clung to his bitterness. Someone else could have heard his self-righteous version of the story, recognized the profound truths about God’s compassion for the lost, and written it down as a testimony to future generations. Regardless of whether Jonah allowed himself to be transformed by the events of the book, God’s main points are crystal clear by the end of chapter 4:

(a) He is gracious toward all nations, toward Gentiles as well as Israelites; (b) He is sovereign; (c) He punishes rebellions; and (d) He wants His own people to obey Him, to be rid of religious sham, and to place no limits on His universal love and grace.^lii

I would add one more thought: God wants His people to be like Him and fulfill their mission of compassionately representing Him to a lost world.

Jonah isn’t the hero of this story. God is. Despite His prophet’s efforts to the contrary, God saved the sailors, Jonah, and Nineveh. His unstoppable love was displayed for all to see, including us, thousands of years later. And we can each choose our response to God’s final question. Should we not share His concern for the vast multitudes of lost people around us?  

Our Turn

Does lostness mean to us what it does to God? Does the average Christian sitting in a Sunday morning service feel God’s emotions as He contemplates the eternal fate of hundreds of millions of His created ones? It is unlikely that any of us has actively tried to persuade God not to save people, “but if we do not make it possible for them to hear of His grace and power to save to the uttermost, the result is the same, as far as they are concerned.”^liii

If your honest attitude toward the lost resembles Jonah’s, here’s a comforting thought: There’s still time. God gave Jonah a second, third, and fourth chance to repent and adopt His heart of compassion. He doesn’t just pursue us for our initial salvation. He also continues to purify and sanctify us for the rest of our lives. He wants us to understand, more and more, the true depths of the gospel we’ve received. And His goal isn’t only to use us to minister to others, important as that is. He is transforming us into the image of Jesus, the Son He loves (Romans 8:29, 2 Corinthians 3:18). God has His fingerprints on everything that happens in our lives. He provides us with nudges, resources, lessons, and corrections.

This is good news for negligent, self-centered Christians. While it’s unlikely we have rebelled as dramatically as Jonah did or will undergo a similar mode of discipline, that doesn’t mean God is not watching us. Through the highs and lows of our journey with Him, God is lovingly leading us into a deeper relationship. I like to share that thought with new outgoing missionaries. While we trust that God will use us to impact the world, another great work (and sometimes a painful one) will be going on at that same time—the sanctifying hand of God doing surgery on our own hearts.

If you want to get serious with God, there’s no better way than to set out on a journey of obedience to reach those who haven’t heard of the salvation and mercy He offers freely to everyone. That includes distant nations and peoples, but it also means people at work or those living next door. It’s not going to be easy. God will expose our selfishness, personal agendas, values, timelines, hopes, and dreams again and again so that His loving fire can transform them. I find it’s a much less painful process when I cooperate rather than resist as Jonah did.  

The need for continuing learning and sanctification might be more obvious for Christians saved from more dramatic spiritual bankruptcy, like Mary Magdalene or Zacchaeus. But it’s just as real for those of us raised in Christian environments or even serving in vocational ministry. We are all broken vessels in need of transformation. Some of us aren’t quite as aware of how much mercy and grace we’ve received. Maybe we have seen ourselves as more like Jonah than the Ninevites—more prophet than pagan. But if we read the story carefully, that might mean we are inoculated against the true nature of God’s love.  

Seemingly “good Christians” are in danger of becoming passive-aggressive saboteurs, like sons who say, “I will,” but then don’t (Matthew 21:28-32), or like the older brother in Jesus’s parable of the loving father, often called the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). We have done things “right.” We’ve played by the rules. We are resentful of God’s inordinate compassion and generosity toward wayward sinners. We are like the priest and the Levite who keep our distance and pass by when we see a man lying “half-dead” on the side of the road (Luke 10:25-37). And, as Jesus illustrated in another parable, it doesn’t make sense to us when those who started work in the afternoon get paid just as much as those of us who’ve been working all day under the hot sun (Matthew 20:1-16). God’s grace seems to violate justice. We are indignant and angry until we see ourselves as the recipients of His unreasonable grace.  

Some people need God’s grace because they are prodigals, and others because they are self-righteous Pharisees. Both are forms of idolatry. All of us, ultimately, need the same grace. Surface-level conformity to God’s instructions isn’t enough. He wants heart-level transformation. Are we satisfied with following rules and going through the motions, or are we moved by His Spirit and compassion?

One of my favorite verses is 2 Chronicles 16:9, “For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.” Let’s be people whose hearts are blameless and who find strong support in the God who loved the sailors and the Ninevites and the unloving prophet. Join me in praying yet another powerful prayer: Lord, fill my heart with Your compassion.  

Discussion Questions  

1. Imagine for a moment that Jonah shared God’s compassion for the Ninevites and celebrated their repentance. What would the next few weeks and years of his ministry have been like? What did Nineveh need, and what influence might Jonah have had?
2. Have you ever had a silent-retreat-like experience that reset your priorities? How long did the effect last?
3. Think about a time you were angry with God. Was His response anything like how He addressed Jonah?
4. Do you think the average Christian sitting in a Sunday morning service feels God’s emotions as He contemplates the eternal fate of hundreds of millions of His created ones?
5. Why do you think the Holy Spirit and human writer ended the book of Jonah the way they did?

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