Is It Right For You to Be Angry?

Is It Right for You to Be Angry?

Jonah 4:1-11

February 17, 2019 • Mount Pleasant UMC

I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but we live in an angry world. I’ve been saying that for probably fifteen or twenty years in various sermons, but it’s never been as true as it is today. Everyone is angry about or offended by something, and every day it seems there is something new we’re supposed be angry about. I came across a list online of the top ten things that make people angry, and I wondered how many of these things are on your list of “things that make me angry.” Let’s do this: pull out your sermon study guide and you’ll find there a list of numbers, 1-10. Every time I mention something that makes you angry, mark that number off. Then we’ll see how angry we are as a congregation. Ready? Okay, here is the list, beginning with number ten.

10. People who talk during movies. (By the way, the first date Cathy and I went on was to see Star Trek 4, during which she kept asking questions. And she wonders why it was a month before I asked her out again! I had to get over being angry!)

9. Screaming children. (Especially if they are your children!)

8. Nosy people.

7. Abusive parents. (Could be related to number 9.)

6. Politics. (I actually would have expected this one to be higher on the list these days.)

5. Slow loading screens or webpages. (We’re a very impatient people.)

4. Lying and liars.

3. Bad drivers. (And everyone except you is a bad driver!)

2. People who take credit for your work.

And the number one thing that makes us angry…

1. Being blamed for something you didn’t do.

(slightly adapted from https://www.thetoptens.com/things-make-you-angry/)

So, how did we do? Anyone want to confess to having all ten numbers checked? How about somewhere between 5-10? Lower than 5? Did anyone not get any points? Some counselor-type people have summed up causes for anger in three broad categories. First of all, we get angry when our expectations are not met. When things don’t go the way we think they should, we get triggered and we lash out—often not at what made us angry but at someone or something else. Second, we get angry when we feel threatened. This one, counselors tell us, doesn’t even have to be a real situation; the emphasis is on “feeling” threatened. “He looked at me funny” or “she ignored me”—such things can trigger us, even if what actually happened was different or unintentional. And the third situation is when we carry resentment and rage around within us; when we fail to or refuse to forgive, those little hurts and slights and incidents pile up inside of us and emotionally rob us of the ability to respond rationally the next time we are hurt or when we feel like someone has done something to us. Often, when those resentments and hurts build up, especially if we have experienced more than one of these triggers, we end up with a very short fuse so that the smallest thing can set us off (https://www.thehopeline.com/why-do-we-get-angry/). So while that isn’t meant to be a comprehensive list, I would say it’s a pretty good summary of life, and it’s also a good summary of the fourth chapter of the book of Jonah.

For the last few weeks, we’ve been looking at several questions God asks, and as we’ve seen many of those come through the Old Testament prophets. Some of the stories and prophets we’ve looked at may have been new to you, but if you’ve grown up in or near the church, the story of Jonah is probably one you’re at least somewhat familiar with. I grew up hearing this story, probably even saw it played out on a flannelboard a time or two when I was a kid in the basement of the Rossville United Methodist Church, but I did not know the end of this story until I was in college. Because it’s a weird ending. Most of the Sunday School versions, at least the Sunday School version I heard, went like this: Jonah was a prophet of God, and God called him to go to Nineveh to preach, to tell people about God. Jonah didn’t want to go because the Ninevites were bad people, so he got on a boat and went the opposite way. Then God sent a big storm, and the only way to stop the storm was to throw Jonah into the sea, which the sailors did, and a whale gobbled Jonah up. The whale gave Jonah an all-expenses paid Mediterranean cruise for three days (though the accommodations were a bit lacking) until they reached the closest beach to Nineveh, where the whale spit Jonah up on the shore. Then Jonah went and did what God told him to; he warned the Ninevites that God was going to destroy them if they didn’t repent. So they repented, and everyone was happy, and Jonah sat down and enjoyed a barbecue with these people who now believed in God. Everyone lived happily ever after, the end.

Except that’s not how it ends, and I didn’t know that until I was preparing to go to the Urbana 1987 missions conference with InterVarsity. The theme that year was “Should I Not Be Concerned,” a question taken from Jonah 4, and our Bible study that year was the book of Jonah. In preparing for that conference, I learned the real ending of this book. It’s not “happily ever after”! In fact, there’s not even really an ending! After the preaching, and the repenting, Jonah gets angry, and he goes out to a nearby hillside to wait for God to destroy the Ninevites anyway. And when God doesn’t destroy them, Jonah gets even angrier. In this chapter, you might have noticed, God actually asks Jonah two questions. Is it right for you to be angry? And—should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh? These two questions are closely related and, I believe, still have a lot to say to us today.

So, let’s establish some background. Nineveh was a significant city. Eventually it was the capital of the Assyrian Empire, though in Jonah’s time it may not have been the actual capital. Either way, 120,000 people or more lived there in Jonah’s time. We’re told, “Nineveh was a very large city; it took three days to go through it” (3:3). The city has been located by archaeologists; it’s in modern-day Iraq, and in its day it was a beautiful city. Beautiful architecture masked a cruel culture. The Assyrians induced terror in the nations around them and they were proud of the cruel reputation they had earned. The records of the torture they routinely inflicted on their enemies is not fit to read here on Sunday morning; as one scholar described it: “It is as gory and bloodcurdling a history as we know.” Another rated the description “R” for gore and violence. Think of the most violent movie you’ve seen, or the violent images that come out of modern wars, and it’s worse than that (cf. Bruckner, NIV Application Commentary: Jonah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, pgs. 28-29; IVP Bible Background Commentary, pg. 777). Can you begin to see, then, why Jonah opposed God offering these enemies a chance to repent? They were bad, cruel people.

Tarshish, where Jonah tries to take a boat to, has not been definitely identified, but in the context of the story it’s meant to represent the furthest known point he could go to in order to hide from God. Some say it was in Africa, some say it was in Spain, but the point is, of course, that no matter where he tried to run, Jonah couldn’t escape God’s notice. The psalmist put it this way: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there” (Psalm 139:7-8). The psalmist goes on for several verses to remind us that there is nowhere we can go to escape God’s notice. God made the world; it’s all his. Not even Tarshish is far enough if we hope to hide from God. Jonah found that out and, as a bonus, got to ride inside a big fish. The text just says “fish” by the way, not whale, but the point isn’t Jonah’s natural submarine ride. The point is that Jonah changes somewhat while he’s being taken to the place God wanted him to go in the first place.

Now, I’m trying to imagine what his preaching was like when he finally got to Nineveh. I used to imagine he was a loud, joyful preacher, like my home church pastor was when I was growing up. Amos always shared the good news with a lot of joy and energy, and I sort of pictured Jonah like that. “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overthrown!” (3:4). But knowing what I now know about the end of the story, I sort of picture him as more of a “sad sack” preacher, trying to keep it quiet, on the down low. “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overthrown.” Because if he can keep it quiet, he will have both done what he was told and kept the Ninevites from really hearing the message of hope. So he’s acting like a child who doesn’t really want to do what he’s been told. He’s obeying, but just barely.

But someone—or several someones—does hear and the word spreads and lo and behold, the city repents. Even the king repents. Everyone puts on sackcloth and ashes to demonstrate how sorry they are for their sins, and God sees it, and the author says God “relents” from the destruction he had planned. That word causes problems for some people, because it sounds like God changes his mind. Part of the challenge comes, as it often does, in our attempts to translate a word that means so much more than just one idea. In the original language, it carries a meaning of compassion. It’s part of God’s character to show compassion toward sinful humanity—you and me. To “relent” is to change, to turn from pride to compassion, to offer comfort to a person who is in need. God does not destroy Nineveh because his very character is not destruction but compassion. So what the text is telling us is this: God’s actions may change but his character does not. He is absolutely consistent in who he is (cf. Bruckener 99).

And here’s the kicker: it’s God’s character that caused Jonah to reject what God called him to do in the first place. That’s what he says in this first part of chapter 4. “I knew what you are like, and that’s why I ran away!” God is gracious, compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in love, and doesn’t want to send disaster on his creation (4:2). Jonah knew all of this; that’s why he ran! And that’s also why he is angry now. In the presence of a God who is slow to anger, Jonah is “burning” with anger. The word here means “to be inflamed.” It’s used five times in this short book, and four of them are in this chapter. Over and over again, we’re told: Jonah is more than just a little mad or upset. He is burning inside. He is angry—angry enough, he says, to die (4:9).

Have you ever been angry enough to die? Or angry enough to want someone or something else to die? I don’t know if you saw this but the El Paso, Texas Zoo had a unique offer for a Valentine’s Day gift. The advertisement went like this: “What’s the perfect Valentine’s Day gift? Naming a cockroach after your ex, of course! Message us your ex’s name and we’ll name a cockroach after them!” The twist was that on Valentine’s Day, you could watch on Facebook Live as meerkats ate the named cockroaches. And it was all free! That’s one way to get over a broken relationship! Have you ever been angry enough that you wanted or felt you needed someone or something to die? Jonah is angry enough that he wants to die.

He’s so angry that he ignores God’s question the first time. In verse 4, God asks, “Is it right for you to be angry?” God literally asks, “Is it causing any good that you burn with anger?” (cf. Bruckner 112). And Jonah storms off like a spoiled child. He doesn’t even give the God of the universe the dignity of an answer. He’s so mad he can’t even talk. He refuses to answer. Instead, he sits outside the city and hopes that God will still destroy it. So God uses a plant to get his attention, a plant that grows up quickly and gives Jonah some much-needed shade in the Middle Eastern heat. The author says Jonah was “very happy” about the plant. It’s an emotional roller coaster at this point. But the next day, God sends a worm that destroys the plant and Jonah is back to being angry. So God asks him again, “Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?” And that’s when Jonah says he is so angry he’d rather be dead. All because of a plant. A plant that lived and died in a single day. That’s not what Jonah is really angry about, but like a lot of us, he’s taking his anger out on something else because he doesn’t want to admit what he’s really mad about. So he vents about the plant, when in reality he’s angry because God has been absolutely 100% who he said he would be. Jonah is really angry at God.

So are a lot of people today, even some of us sitting here this morning, though we don’t want to admit it. We would be too embarrassed to say that we are angry at God, so we’re angry with the government or the repairman or the former spouse or the pastor or…we could go on and on. But if we were actually truthful, very often we’d have to admit that we are angry at God…because he failed to meet our expectations. God failed us. He didn’t do what we wanted him to do, what we think he ought to do. He didn’t destroy Nineveh. He didn’t save the life of the one we loved. He didn’t protect our children from drugs or the influence of bad people. He seems to have taken away our security, our guarantees of a peaceful, prosperous life. God has failed us; he took away the shady plant and if we’re honest, we have to admit that we’re angry. Is it right for you to be angry? Yes, Lord, it is. I’m angry enough to die. I’m angry because—well, because you are exactly who you said you would be. And you failed to meet my expectations.

Think about how many times Jesus did the same thing. John the Baptist, who first declared Jesus to be the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), later had to ask if Jesus really was the savior, the Messiah. Jesus had not done what John thought he ought to do, and when John was facing his own death, he needed to know he hadn’t wasted his life (cf. Matthew 11:1-6). When Jesus says hard things, a bunch of those who were following him decide to leave, so he asks his twelve disciples, “Do you want to leave, too?” And Peter, who usually speaks for the group, doesn’t say no. He just says, “Where else would we go?” (cf. John 6:60-71). Many scholars think it was extreme disappointment that caused Judas to betray Jesus. Jesus was not who Judas wanted him to be, and many think that by turning Jesus over to the authorities, he hoped to force Jesus’ hand, force Jesus into his own mold. When it didn’t turn out that way, Judas took his own life instead. And of course, Jesus’ death at the hands of the Roman Empire was instigated by the religious authorities who, even though they were hoping and looking for a savior, were disappointed by Jesus who didn’t do what they believed a savior ought to do. Jesus was absolutely consistent with the heart of his heavenly Father, but he failed to meet the expectations of nearly everyone he came in contact with. There’s a reason Peter refers to Jesus in one of his letters as a stumbling stone (cf. 1 Peter 2:8). Jesus could have asked from the cross, “Is it right for you to be angry?” Yes, Lord, and I am angry enough to die (cf. Michael Card lecture, “The Failure of Jesus”).

The question we really need to hear, the one that has the potential to change our lives, is the second question God asks in this passage, but we’re not really ready to hear that until we’ve admitted the truth of the first question. Once God has Jonah’s attention, he asks the kicker question, the question that actually ends the book. God asks, “Should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?” Don’t you love that? God is even concerned about the animals! God is reminding Jonah who he is. These people, Jonah, that you’ve tried to write off, these people that you despise so much, these people that you—let’s just say it—these people whom you hate—Jonah, I love them. I created them. They are my children, too. Shouldn’t I be concerned for them? Shouldn’t you love them, too?

Who are your Ninevites? Who are the people you have tried to write off, or the ones who are the last people you think God should forgive? Who are the people who just annoy you, who you’d rather not have anything to do with? I read this week of a man who attended a prayer retreat, and every time there was a time of silent prayer, a woman would start dancing in the middle of the circle, with a big smile on her face. Meanwhile, her husband would start chuckling and saying, “Mmmm,” as if he were having an intimate conversation with God. The man commented, “Sometimes I had to leave the room in the middle of prayer because I could feel I was going to choke the guy!” I’ve been in situations like that, haven’t you? There were Ninevites in the crowd, people who got on your nerves, people you couldn’t stand. A few months later, the whole story came out. This couple had lost their son the previous year, and they had come on the retreat to try to deal with their grief. The man in particular opened up about his own grief, saying, “In the silence I close my eyes and see my son and remember times when we laughed together, and then I start laughing and it helps me feel that somehow he’s okay.” Behind the odd behavior was a deep pain. Sometimes we jump to conclusions about other people when they fail to meet our expectations—and especially when we don’t know the story. One way we can deal with our anger is to approach every situation with openness and curiosity. What does God have to teach me in this? What is there I can learn? What might that other person be dealing with that makes them act in ways that I don’t understand? Openness and curiosity can quickly short-circuit our anger toward the Ninevites we know (cf. Yaconelli, The Gift of Hard Things, pgs. 44, 53-54).

Another practice that helps us deal with our anger is to be firmly rooted in and convinced of who God is. To know him, we have to spend time with him in prayer and in reading the Scriptures. One Bible study technique I’ve found very effective at different times in my life is to ask this simple question of every passage I read, “What does this tell me about God?” If the Scriptures really are meant to help us get to know God, if that is their primary purpose, then that question should probably be the first thing we ask. Passages like Jonah 4 that we read this morning fit well with that question; we learn quite clearly that God is gracious, compassionate, slow to anger, and abounding in love. Then the next question for us is this: where do I need those same characteristics to grow in my life? Where in this situation is there room for more compassion, more love, less anger and more grace? You see how this works? What is God like and how can I be more like him? We learn those things through prayer and study of the Scriptures, and then we seek to live those out in every encounter we have during the day because, as author Mark Yaconelli says, “Each encounter with another human being carries the possibility of changing how we experience the world” (43).

In a few moments, we’re going to spend some time in prayer for our Ninevites, but first I want you to notice how the story of Jonah ends—or doesn’t. The story ends with a question and no answer; it’s a horrible way to end the story. We don’t know what happens to Jonah, or if God’s question to him helps him change his mind. In fact, when Big Idea Productions chose to adapt the story of Jonah for a VeggieTales big-screen movie in 2002, many people thought they were nuts because this is not a movie ending! There’s no “happily ever after” and no fade out. God asks, and the screen goes black. But I think that’s intentional. The story doesn’t end all neat and tidy because we’re supposed to supply the ending. The question at the end isn’t so much about Jonah as it is about us (cf. Goldingay, Daniel & the Twelve Prophets for Everyone, pg. 158). The answer expected from God’s question, “Should I not be concerned,” is of course “Yes, you should be concerned.” And the implication that comes tumbling out of that response is that we should be, too. All the Ninevites, all the people we think shouldn’t get a second chance, or even the people we just don’t want to hang around with—God should be concerned with them and so should we. So, this morning, let’s pray for our Ninevites. Let’s ask God to give us a heart of compassion toward each and every one of them, because they are people for whom God has compassion and love. They are people whom Jesus came to save. Who is your Ninevite? Let’s pray.