Have You Any Right to Be Angry?

I'll be honest: I've been angry for a while now.  

I'm angry that the nation where I've grown up has devolved into a swirling chaotic mass of hatred. Perhaps that hatred has always been there; I've just been noticing it more. 

I'm angry when people look at other people who are different from them and think that they are somehow less because of that difference.

I'm angry that there is misery, sin, unfairness, unbelief, and injustice everywhere I look.

I'm angry when Real Love (love and repentance and truth, by grace) gets trampled under False "Love" (do whatever you want; no worries, it's all fine and dandy). 

I'm angry at labels and misrepresentations and lies and half-lies and almost-truths-but-not-quite... half-truths that are just false enough to crack foundational beliefs and make a strong tower crumble.

Mostly, I'm angry at sin and the father of lies. I hate the devil's agenda. I hate that he blinds us to what's really happening, and I hate that so many of us fall for it all day every day.

See, he's really, really good at his self-appointed job. He's really, really good at making evil look pretty nice to our cloudy, fractured vision. He's crazy good at turning our attention off of the One it should be focused on and getting us to look around at the wind and the waves of chaos and destruction. "Ooh, look over there! A fallen evangelist! That man's message must have been false!" Or "This man of God prophesied, but look, nothing happened. Dust and ashes, dust and ashes, that's all there is to this faith."

I'm angry that some of those close to me have believed him. I'm angry that they've pushed aside the most important thing ever, because they've allowed his lies to fester.

I'm angry that my own heart is far too easily led astray.

In Jonah 4, the last chapter of the book (I told you it was short), Jonah finds out that the Lord has seen the Ninevites' repentance, and as a result, decides not to destroy the city. And the prophet gets angry. Really angry. "Oh Lord, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that You are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, oh Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live" (Jonah 4:2-3).

Background on this: Jonah is a prophet. As a prophet, what he prophesies as a word from the Lord... should come true. If it doesn't, he's discredited. Failed. Ruined. His reputation is in tatters. And... according to Jewish law, he can be killed for a false prophecy. 

So maybe this background informs his mood. Nobody likes to be called a liar or a fool, and Jonah knows that this reputation is now highly probable, because of the Lord's great mercy and compassion on a people Jonah doesn't even care about anyway -- Gentiles. Assyrians. Not even a part of the Israelite nation.

In Jonah 4:4, God says: "Have you any right to be angry?"

Seven words that pack a powerful punch to the gut. 

Have you, Jonah, any right to be angry? Isn't that My right? Didn't the people of Nineveh sin against Me? Did the people of Nineveh sin against you, Jonah?

How about you, Tamara? Same question.

I think it's worth noting that Jonah seems to be just about as stubborn as I know I can be. Look at the course of events over these four chapters: Cause: The Lord tells Jonah to go to Nineveh and warn the people. Effect: Jonah flees in the opposite direction. Cause: The Lord sends a storm to get Jonah to wake up. Effect: Jonah goes to sleep, literally, below decks. Cause: Jonah gets tossed into the sea, swallowed by a fish, and then vomited up after three days. Effect: Jonah sullenly heads to Nineveh to do what he was asked to do in the first place.

Now, Jonah clings stubbornly to the Lord's promise to destroy the city of Nineveh, even though he and God have had a little conversation about how God's not going to do that anymore. 

As soon as that conversation is over, as soon as Jonah fulfills all the technicalities of "warning the people of Nineveh," (even though his heart isn't in it), he heads out to a hillside east of the city that overlooks it. "There he makes himself a shelter, sits in its shade, and waits to see what will happen to the city."

He stares at the city, glances at his watch, taps the glass. The second hand continues to tick around the face without pausing. Come on, any time now. (I shouldn't have to explain that I'm well aware wrist-watches did not exist in Jonah's time, but given what I've seen on social media... I'll go ahead and make the statement: I'm well aware that wrist-watches did not exist in Jonah's time). 

To reiterate, he is waiting to see what will happen to the city even after hearing from the Lord that He will not destroy the city after all, given the Ninevites' repentance.

I've never fully understood the significance of what happens next, but I'll try to tackle it. "The Lord God provides a vine and makes it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort (it's hotter than blazes out here). Jonah is very happy about the vine."

Thank you, Lord! Hey, while you're at it, can you grab me some popcorn, maybe a Coke from the lobby? Jonah settles back to watch the show that he somehow thinks is still going to come.

"But at dawn the next day, God provides a worm, which chews the vine so that it withers. When the sun rises, God provides a scorching east wind, and the sun blazes on Jonah's head so that he grows faint. He wants to die (nothing dramatic about Jonah), and says, 'It would be better for me to die than to live.'"

The Lord says -- again -- "Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?"

"I do!" Jonah wails. "I am angry enough to die!"

I picture the Lord taking a deep breath as He counts to ten before He answers. "You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight."

I gave you the vine. Plus, Jonah... it's a plant. You're angry about a plant. Really?

"But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?"

Stripping down this verse: You have been concerned about a vine. I am concerned about a city with 120,000 lost souls in it.

Of the two of us, whose priorities are just a little off-base?

Paul warns us in Ephesians 4:26: "In your anger, do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry." Anger itself is not sin, but it's what we do with that anger that can so easily turn in that direction.

"Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires" (James 1:19-20).

Jonah's vine is a reminder, an object lesson, that his priorities are misplaced. God is setting an example of compassion for him, but he can't see it. He's taking on the role of God Himself in what he tells himself is righteous anger, but God says: "It is Mine to avenge; I will repay" (Deuteronomy 32:35).

God tells him to stop it in one of the most compassionate and powerful phrases ever spoken. He holds up a mirror to Jonah's heart and shows him the embedded hatred that burrows beneath the anger. He holds up that same mirror to us today: "Have you any right to be angry?" The sin is against me, not against you.

Ouch. And amen. 

Lord, forgive us where we have called anger righteous, and it's been hatred instead. Clear our vision so we can see through lenses of Your compassion. Work Your loving justice in this old world in Your time and in Your way, and help us to stay faithful to the path You've given us to walk.

"If your enemy is hungry, feed him. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink" (Romans 12:20).