He prayed to the Lord, “Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing 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, Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.” But the Lord replied, “Is it right for you to be angry?” —Jonah 4: 2-4, NIV
After three days criss-crossing the walled city of Niniveh, preaching to its people about their pending doom, they reacted quickly to the message: the king of the city-state hurried its citizens to a three-day fast while the people dashed and burnt their idols and destroyed their altars. While he preached, the people's hearts were slowly tendered, rendered to the grace the own prophet experienced not long ago. But today, as he overlooked the restored city, he was angry. Angry not for their salvation, but because of them.
God listened carefully as he spoke. His words sounded incensed, foolish, melodramatic, and entitled. This was an attitude God repeatedly told His children to avoid, especially when they enjoy the fruits of the labor they never worked for. Some of this conversation made Him chuckle. Other parts made him grieve. He was not surprised, for He has encountered such horrible attitudes before. But it was time enough to teach the prophet a lesson.
On a scorching hot day, God planted a beautiful plant that comforted Jonah and satiated his hunger and thirst to the brim. Its leaves were long and bountiful, its oil refreshing, its length enough to cover his sunburn body. He rejoiced in providence on that day.
But then God sent a powerful eastern wind that completely destroyed the plant and forced the prophet to a rude awakening, one that would force him to see an entire city worshiping the one true God while he promptly shook his fist at the one true God who gave him the plant, the same plant he never toiled for, venting his frustrations and wanting to die. The reactions in his heart kept bursting forth with a story of entitlement that always became problematic for God's people.
"My son", God sweetly answered, "You worry for the plant you never toiled. And now, it is gone, and you complain needlessly." The prophet, whose name was Jonah, whose name ironically means "dove" (yet better served as the bearer of bad luck), fell silent. "If I am compassionate and merciful to you who continues to complain to Me, then what can stop Me from being compassionate and merciful to those have never heard, felt and tasted Me?"
And as of that moment, he understood. And cried.