It’s remarkable how grace keeps pushing us past the limits of our own thinking. Jonah’s story shows just how stubborn we can be when we cling to a narrow view of the world. He believed in a system where people had to earn mercy, where those who did wrong should suffer the consequences. But the world of predictable good guys and always-bad guys collapses into God’s unfathomable grace. [1] Jonah couldn’t bear to see the people of Nineveh receive the very mercy he believed belonged only to Israel (Jonah 4:1-2). His disappointment reveals something we all wrestle with — the discomfort that comes when love refuses to conform to our judgments. Grace doesn’t just break the rules; it reveals that the rules were never as final as we thought.
Jonah’s story also shows how easily self-righteousness blinds us. He believed that his people alone had the truth, that their identity as God’s chosen set them apart in a way that justified his contempt for others. But that’s not how mercy works. The story of Jonah breaks all the expectations of who is right, and then remakes those expectations in favor of grace. [1] Jonah thought he was defending God’s justice, yet his resistance reveals something deeper — his need to be right, his desire to protect his sense of superiority. When we build our sense of self around being correct or morally superior, we risk losing sight of the deeper reality of love’s reach (Jonah 1:3; Jonah 4:3-4).
And then there’s the lesson about power — a lesson Jonah missed entirely. True prophets don’t cling to their tribe or align themselves with narrow interests. They refuse to let their voice become captive to any one agenda. Jonah’s resentment toward Nineveh shows how easy it is to slip into a mindset that divides the world into insiders and outsiders. But true prophets are always internationalists working to realize what Jesus will call the ‘kingdom of God.’ [1] They recognize that justice isn’t about reinforcing old boundaries; it’s about breaking them down in service of a greater whole. Prophets like Martin Luther King Jr., Sojourner Truth, and Cesar Chavez knew this — they spoke with courage about power without becoming consumed by it. Jonah, on the other hand, wanted God to take his side. He couldn’t see that mercy was at work on both sides, inviting everyone into something larger than tribal loyalties (Jonah 3:10; Matthew 5:44-45).
This kind of wisdom — the ability to see beyond ego-driven certainty — is rare. That’s why we must be careful when we encounter voices claiming to speak for truth. When we want to know if a prophet is mature, we can look for other qualities: Does the prophetic teacher need to be right, need badly to win the argument, or desire to humiliate the opposition? [1] The mature voice doesn’t grasp for control or obsess over being correct. Instead, it speaks from a place of quiet trust — a place where the need to win has been surrendered in favor of something deeper. The presence of humility is the surest sign that someone is acting from wisdom rather than ego (James 3:17; Micah 6:8).
Additionally, there’s the hard truth that transformation rarely comes easily. It’s often born out of confusion, disorientation, and surrender. In every case, the protagonist must go 'down' before he or she knows what 'up' is, as Jesus himself famously models. [1] Jonah’s time in the belly of the whale wasn’t just a punishment — it was a space where his assumptions unraveled, a place where his certainty began to break apart (Jonah 2:1-2). That’s what growth often demands — the willingness to step into a kind of darkness, to sit in uncertainty long enough for something new to emerge. We may resist it, like Jonah did, but eventually we find ourselves being carried to the shore — no longer in control, but somehow more whole than we were before (Jonah 2:10).
[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things