As a child and into adulthood I was taught not to be angry, not even to feel anger because it would surely lead to violence, or at least temper.
In seminary, a New Testament professor told us in no uncertain terms that anger was biological energy, that it happened normally in response to being hurt, insulted, oppressed, or otherwise messed with, and that God created us with all of our feelings. Understood and focused anger is a force by which we can defend those who are powerless, or even fuel transformation. “Anger is normally human, people. Jesus felt it too—at least if you want to allow him to be human which is quite a good idea.”
Studying psychology and human behavior taught me the same thing about anger. Further, it could cause emotional and physical damage if it isn’t given an outlet. In short, one could become a bomb too easily detonated by even small offenses. Think road rage. Think teeth-gnashing. Think terrorism. Think collective rioting. Underneath stored up anger that won’t resolve often festers an unhealed wound. It can take time, therapeutic understanding, and compassion to remove the many masks anger wears, but it’s important violence-prevention work. Call it the liberation of anger.
Over time I’ve noticed that anger has also been gendered. It’s more socially acceptable in boys and men than in girls and women. Anger avoided, denied or suppressed may exacerbate, even psychologically cause depression in women and some men as well.
Honestly the Church is often not helpful about anger. Many people think anger’s unholy and automatically violent. And the wrath of God? Oh, God forbid. When I pray I often share my anger with God, even at God. I don’t get any shaming messages from God. Shaming is not even particularly biblical. Paul advises us not to let the sun go down on our anger. Also, be angry and sin not. That’s wise, not condemnatory.
Right now I feel furious at the resistance this country has about gun control, at politicians who take money from gun lobbies, at men who think women are objects for their hostile pleasure, at Christians who lack courage to speak about these issues for fear of angering a parishioner or ten, at leader who think more guns is the cure for gun violence. I’m grateful that last Sunday’s hymns and sermon acknowledged the cleansing power of focused anger. It helps me to write and speak about my anger so I don’t stay angry and sin against God, self, or neighbor.
How many children have to die because our government is too paralyzed to legislate gun control? I believe that the well-being of the whole is the responsibility of us all. I also believe that children have an edge— little children face down on beaches, teens hugging and wailing because their classmates are dead and they are alive, one more time a parent having to explain to a child that her school is safe, then praying to God that it is.
Anger is fuel. It shows you care. Jesus got angry, especially at the codependent Peter. Anger is Mercy. Anger can create justice. Anger, ironically, fuels non-violent actions—like writing, speaking up, lobbying, sharing, voting, praying.
God grant us enough serenity, courage and wisdom to place our anger in the service of Your Justice, Mercy and Love—lest we miss Thy kingdom’s goal. Amen.
From the Rev. Lyn Brakeman, Priest Associate