Ridiculous Grace

        When I consider what’s going on in the world today, I have some strong ideas about how most of it should be handled. Am I alone in thinking this way? With the internet and social media, we can see what’s happening in most parts of the world at any given moment, so it’s easy for us to criticize the way situations are being handled. We might think we have the corner on the market for making good decisions because we’re Christians and we have God’s best interest in mind. But what if God is the one making these decisions we don’t like? The news serves to highlight the great chasm between what’s taking place and what we think should be. God has a word for us in the book of Jonah—another human being who thought he understood world events and how they should be handled. 

God tells Jonah to go to Nineveh to warn people of His impending wrath. Because he hates the Assyrians for their ungodly living and doesn’t think they deserve the opportunity to repent, he ironically refuses God’s mandate and instead takes a boat in the opposite direction. A cataclysmic storm rages, causing the men on board to discuss whose god must be offended, while Jonah sleeps like a baby below deck. They wake him, and he identifies himself as a Hebrew who worships the very Lord who made the sea and the dry land. (That seems like an interesting proclamation for someone who’s directly disobeying the One he claims to serve.) After some deliberation, Jonah offers himself up to be sacrificed overboard for the greater good of the crew. The big fish comes along to swallow him, not as punishment from God as many children’s accounts portray, but as a provision of God’s sovereignty. God isn’t finished with him yet and uses the fish to preserve his life. Make no mistake about why Jonah is eventually spit up onto dry land. He doesn’t repent. That’s not the reason. Again, there’s great irony in the fact that he’s running from God because of his disdain for God’s grace towards disobedient people. He grudgingly goes to Nineveh, after all, and sounds the warning. Then God does what Jonah dreads most; He forgives the Ninevites. Not surprisingly, Jonah sulks off to a lonely place, mourning the fact that the world doesn’t make sense and God isn’t doing what He should. Even less surprisingly, God graciously causes a huge vine to grow up and cover him with shade and comfort while he feels sorry for himself. Then, in a gesture that reveals the essence of the whole quirky narrative, God takes the vine away and reveals the ugly truth about Jonah’s callous heart and our sinful human nature, namely that we tend to trust more in our own sense of justice than in what God says is right, and we tend to care more about our personal comfort than the destiny of lost people.

So, I ask myself, “Do I really trust God to do what’s right with this world, with this country, and with my family, or do I believe I know better?” Also, “Am I willing to let Him use my life to reach the lost, or do I feel entitled to the comforts and routines I’ve established for myself?” And, possibly the most difficult question, “Do I identify myself as one who serves God even when there’s a limit to what I’m willing to do for Him?” The good news—and there’s always good news when we’re talking about God—is that the theme of the Jonah story is God’s enduring patience and ridiculous grace for mankind. We may not be able to understand why things are the way they are or what God is doing about it all, but we can be sure that it certainly comes from a place of love. God has a plan for this world, and He is perfectly capable of achieving it.