Last Friday night, I met with my Mennonite small group. We ate strawberries, yogurt, brownies, hummus, pita, and beans. (A very Anabaptist repast, I assure you).
We also ended up in a rather interesting discussion about "Christian anger." It was not our intended topic of conversation, mind you. We started out debating the meaning of some parables, and quickly segued (as progressive Mennonites will) to contemporary geopolitics. Ours is a fairly left-wing group, and one of our more passionate members talked about how difficult it was for her to be anything BUT angry with our current president and his advisors. We were all in agreement with her about the failures of contemporary American foreign policy, but we were split as to "how angry" we ought to be.
I don’t like folks who raise their voices in wrath. I don’t like shouting. As an adult, I find myself always wanting to soothe people, both in my personal life and in the blogosphere. I learned this early on. My family doesn’t tolerate public displays of negative emotion. The moment things start to get heated at the dinner table, we immediately offer the aggrieved party another helping of the main course. We literally stuff our anger back inside. Now that I am an adult, I do it without my family being present. In the midst of what was becoming a very animated discussion on Friday night, I ran into the kitchen and returned with the brownies. I actually said something maddeningly inane like "Now let’s get to the important stuff — dessert!" I wore a forced smile on my face to boot.
When I first became a Christian, I though Christianity was, at its course, about being very nice to everybody. I’ve always wanted everyone to be nice, even when in my own life, I have fallen miserably short of that particular standard. Rodney King’s plaintive and era-defining plea of "Can’t we all just get along?" was, and still is, my mantra. When I became a Christian, I hoped to find the spiritual tools to make me an even nicer person, the sort who NEVER lost his temper, raised his voice, or said anything even remotely nasty to anyone else! Somehow in my head, I have to admit I had gotten Jesus confused with Miss Manners (whose wisdom I have imbibed like ambrosia.) Miss Manners has a great column on suppressing anger here.
One of my friends on Friday night caught me out, though. She called me on what I was doing. When she questioned my desire to soothe everyone, I quickly quoted some Scripture (Romans 12, naturally) about loving one’s enemies, and (Romans 12:17), being "careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody." Coming from my background, I have a fairly clear idea of what constitutes doing "what is right." For me, doing what is right involves trying to make other folks feel comfortable. It involves avoiding anger at all costs. My friend asked what I would do if a thirsty Nazi came to my door, asking for water. I replied that my half-Jewish self would invite that person in, give them a cool drink, and sit and chat with them. I insisted that that is what Jesus would do, too.
But then everyone brought up the occasions on which Jesus DID display anger, most notably when he drove the moneychangers out of the temple with a whip. I have to confess that Miss Manners would be appalled. (I can’t imagine that she could ever condone the indoor use of such a livestock management device.) When, my friends asked, can we pacifist Christians be like Jesus in that instance? Surely, they said, Jesus was angry when he overturned tables and chased folks out of His Father’s house!
What I realize is that I am completely, totally, utterly afraid of anger. Not just other people’s anger, but my own. I confess I have occasional fantasies about erupting in righteous indignation, causing a ruckus and "driving out the moneychangers." Those daydreams are quite satisfying. But deep down, I cannot imagine really doing anything like that. And despite the fact that Scripture attests to Jesus’ wrath on that and other occasions, I still can’t quite reconcile anger with what it means to be a good Christian. (I’ve always said that if I could take one story out of the New Testament, it would be the story of the whip and the temple. Even now, the story makes me shudder with discomfort.)
As I grow as a Christian, I am learning that no emotion is wasted in God’s economy. Lust can be incredibly destructive, but in a loving marriage, sexual desire is clearly a blessing. Similarly, I have to accept the possiblity that while misdirected rage can also be wildly dangerous, there is a place for righteous anger. There may even be times and places where suppressing one’s anger is sinful in and of itself. I wonder — if I suppress my anger at those who mistreat the vulnerable, merely because I want to "get along with everyone", am I sinning? Am I complicit in the exploitation and oppression of the weak when I try to remember to smile winningly at those who mistreat them? Have I mixed up my own intense desire to have everyone like me with God’s command to love my enemies? I think I know the answer to that one.
So one of my spiritual jobs is clear: Hugo has to work on being appropriately angry, even at the risk of hurting other folks’ feelings. (I’m pretty pickin’ sure the moneychangers’ feelings — and their backsides — were smarting after Jesus drove them out!) Following Christ is easier for me when it involves comforting the sad than when it involves confronting the nasty. But Jesus did both.
Any advice on how to "get angry", Jesus style?
I also avoid anger like the plague. The conclusion I’ve come to is that it’s possible to avoid the emotion of anger (which I personally find psychologically damaging in most cases) without condoning the thing that makes you angry. To use your geopolitical example, cool-headed opposition to the current administration’s policies is possible — and is probably better than just fuming to your friends about the state of the world.
In the moneychangers case, I imagine anger was a necessary tool. The moneychangers weren’t about to leave because of one guy asking nicely, but they would if there was some crazy guy waving a whip. But I’m not sure displays of anger would be effective in getting Republicans to change their vote.
The trick is to know which is which. From the perspective of the angry guy, all anger is “righteous” anger. From a more objective standpoing, I think on the one hand that getting angry over a rape, a robbery, or a murder is a no-brainer, as long as one doesn’t use one’s legitimate anger as an excuse to go out and do something stupid. On the other, getting angry over a political viewpoint that is intrinsicly amoral, and neither expressly Christian nor expressly un-Christian (especially if it’s one most of your fellow American Christians support) is unlikely to qualify.
As to the moneychangers in the temple vs. “righteous” anger over politics, note the sharp Biblical distinction between what is Caesar’s and what is God’s. Jesus was mad at the money changers precisely because they were operating in a temple. There would have been no incident if he had encountered that activity anywhere else.
As to your friend’s Nazi hypo, I refer both him and you to Godwin’s Law.
Hugo - great post as always. Like you, I tend to keep my anger to myself and am quite uncomfortable with situations of conflict. I have gotten better about expressing my anger, but only in the past few years.
I find myself somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of the angry Christ, but there were more than a couple situations like the temple where he showed his anger.
“both him and you” = “both her and you.”
This is one area where I would be cautious about following Jesus’ example, because, as Steven Riddle put it a while ago, ‘he who is without sin gets to cast all the stones.’ Jesus could be judgmental and critical but he warned his followers against doing the same because he was uniquely qualified to do it.
But I do think there’s a difference between saying that anger is usually a sin and saying that conflicts ought always to be conciliated or papered over. Recently I blogged about the stoning of Stephen and I was struck by how he stated his beliefs in such an uncompromising manner but he never got angry at his opponents even while they were stoning him to death. I think that’s a good example of how a person can love his enemies while also telling them what they don’t want to hear.
In my youth, I had the opportunity to be present when a large Greek family would gather (10 brothers and sisters). Usually the gathering was at a large table at Uncle Cosmos’ house. The day was spent nibbling on cheese, drinking wine, and arguing at the top of their lungs. At the end of the day, everyone would hug and comment on what a wonderful time they had, and we must do it again soon.
I’ve always seen such passionate exchanges as the norm. Sometimes, I find that in confrontations, a “no” must be said with passion, or it is not heard.
Passion and stubborness seem to often be identified as anger by those who are uncomfortable with particular methods of expressing assertiveness. No question that assertiveness can easily become aggressiveness, but sometimes I think various cultural backgrounds draw that line in different places.
My experience is that allowing myself to blow up into a full blown rage is always to my detriment, as it tends to cut off the blood supply to my brain.
I’m learning about the volume thing, though. Too much volume often causes folks to hear the emotion, but not the words. It seems to me that if the determination in expression and in tone are sufficient, even a whispered “No” is sufficient.
Number 54 on my 100 things list is: “i am non-confrontational.” Yet, i often get angry and even sometimes express that anger. For me, whether to express anger is dependent on the situation. Which is not to say that i always do so wisely, i bat about .500 on that one.
Well, batting .500 is pretty terrific in my book. It’s beyond a hall of fame average.
Great comments — I especially appreciate XRLQ’s reminder of the importance of cool-headed opposition, Jake’s reminder of the importance of passion, and Camassia’s distinction between anger and refusing to avoid conflict. Keep it comin.
Any advice on how to “get angry”, Jesus style?
I can give such advise, but you won’t think it’s Jesus style. And who is the authority in telling whether or not something is ‘Jesus style’ or not? Does the Pope qualify?
Anyway, whether it is getting angry or trying to make peace, first thing you do is acknowledge the person. That’s what Jesus did. Jesus paid attention to people, whether he liked their actions or not. Without paying attention, there is no respect, no civility, and no compassion.
I think it really depends what you get angry about. “Righteous anger” is anger at injustice, and a desire to right it. That sort of anger comes from compassion-It’s the sort of anger I feel when I hear that the Black Power recruiter has been around my lads. I’m not so much angry at him as angry at the destruction he will cause, and if I had a “whip”, (meaning a way to make him go away and never come back) I should use it. Not out of a desire to hurt, but to protect. That anger will always come out in action-That’s why it has that “Zeal for thy House has consumed me” passage next to it. Jesus wouldn’t be the good shepherd if he didn’t strike the wolves=In this case, hucksters who were preying on the poor and pious. God is love, but He is also justice. That’s what this parable shows-anger at the wolves and false prophets. It’s the same anger He showed to the Pharisees and the Priests. “Woe unto you, white-washed tombs” is hardly “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild” either, but we all delude ourselves into thinking He wasn’t talking about us, so we are slightly more comfortable with that one.
Anger, from a Buddhist standpoint:
When anger\’s attached to *your* idea of right, wrong, or what should be done, then it\’s probably not very productive. It\’s anger issuing straight from the ego, and as such is probably not in touch with what a situation needs.
Anger that comes from compassion–like a mother\’s anger when her child rushes out into the street, or a mother bear\’s anger when something threatens her cub–is not the same. It\’s anger coming from concern for the welfare of others, not from self-concern. This anger is often very appropriate. There\’s a story about my grand-teacher, Zen Master Seung Sahn, told by Zen Master Dae Bong, who used to attend to ZM Seung Sahn. Seung Sahn Sunim often received phone calls in his room from American students wanting advice. He would say, \”Put it down\” several times, in a normal tone of voice–but if the caller persisted in remaining attached to his or her situation, Seung Sahn Sunim would scream into the phone, \”PUT IT DOWN!\” and sounding very angry.
He explained once to Dae Bong ZM, \”They have strong attachments, so I have to put strong energy *in*.\” Anger, when used effectively, can shock someone(s) into proper action. Jesus did just this with the money-changers. People had become so complacent about the temple and so lax about what the temple\’s true function was, they needed some \”strong energy IN\” to understand what was happening. Jesus was, I believe, a compassionate man, and capabable of compassionate anger and even wrath.
Of course, if we don\’t know where our anger is coming from–attachment or compassion–then it\’s best to practice patience. Patience can mean being willing to hear other people\’s anger out, however; in order to clearly see a situation, sometimes you have to let someone yell–or know when to cut them off, rather than retreating, avoiding, or unskillfully silencing someone.
Best of luck–my anger remains a constant source of \”practice opportunities\” to let go of my agenda and ask, \”How can I really help here?\”
Hugo, may I offer a post I did on anger?
http://www.livejournal.com/~phyllisophie/?skip=60
you have to scroll down to February 24th. The post is entitled, Don’t Let the Sun Go Down. I have a deep respect for the godly power of anger, as well as the potential harm it can cause. I respect your pacifist orientation, but I would challenge you to not use it as a smokescreen for fear. Thanks for being willing to examine yourself with all of us watching.
Phyllis, I recommend it without reservation to everyone. Here is a direct link to it.
Hugo,
Good stuff, and an issue that I’m working with in my life as well. Speaking as a non-confrontational nice guy (or ‘wuss’), I find it really easy to sidestep anger or not express it, especially when it’s under the rubric of Christian compassion. And sometimes that’s very appropriate. Other times, though, not expressing the anger just lets it fester; many times I’ve found myself trying to work through resentment or passive-aggressive behavior because I’m so uncomfortable just saying “Look, what you did really pissed me off.”
On the other end of the spectrum, though, there is a potential problem with expressing one’s anger too much. I always wince a little when I hear someone talk about ‘righteous anger.’ Like other commenters, I’ve found that people are quite willing to use ‘righteous’ anger as a smokescreen to cover their ‘regular’ anger. I remember something Peter Nixon (of the late lamented Sursum Corda) posting something about Christians who ‘fall in love with their own state of perpetual rage,’ and I thought that had the ring of truth. If you’re always right, well, then your anger is always justified, and you never have to examine yourself to see if your temper needs to be checked.
I’m still trying to strike a balance between acknowleding that the anger is there, and that it needs to be dealt with, but also following the example of Christ, who (I believe) probably felt a great deal of anger, but didn’t let it rule him or overtake his compassion.
Cap
I hope you (meaning Hugo and many of the commenters) don’t take this the wrong way, but as a Jewish Christian I’ve always thought gentile Christians are just a little to WASPy when it comes to emotions. Don’t take yourself so seriously. It’s a very German trait (not a Christian one) to hold it all in (and Mennonites are very culturally German). I laugh when I say this but, I think you all aren’t Jewish enough (or Greek enough or just…ethnic enough). Anger is probably a sensitive topic for many of you, and I’m not trying to denigrate that at all, but from a hot-blooded person’s point of view, I find it a little amusing.
I’ve never had a problem with venting my anger (and neither did anyone in my family - we argued ALL of the time, and it was fun in a way), but it was never malicious. We would scream at each other about something and then 2 seconds later say “OK, so are we going to go out for a movie or what?” And, after that nobody ever thought about it again. I’ve lived my entire life that way, and I can tell you, it’s a very free life. I’ve always believed that is why I have never held grudges. Stuff gets said, and then you get over it. And, it’s not like people who have malicious fights…there’s no malice in this sort of “fighting” (or, “very heated banter”). It seems out of control, but really it isn’t. People who have good fights from time to time do much better in life than people who don’t. It’s like playing a sport when you’re all wound up inside. The “exercise” gets all that anxiety out. But, it requires other people who understand that kind of behavior, which, from my observation, most WASP Christians in America don’t.
When you look at the OT, you have a whole host of people who got MAD at God. Not righteous anger, not holy anger, they were just pissed off people, and p-oed at GOD! And, God in general never really chided them for expressing their anger. He may have chided them for the issue that was causing the anger, but not the anger itself. Job is absolutely the best example of this. At one point, he tells God (and I’m paraphrasing): “Why don’t you just get the heck out of here and leave me alone, so all of this trouble can leave me and I can die in peace. Because with You around, it’s not going to happen.” God didn’t chide him for that. He chided him for thinking that somehow he was supposed to get everything he wanted in life, and that all of his good works actually amounted to something. If you read closely God’s response to Job, you’ll notice there was ALWAYS the assumption of relationship. Never was there the threat that Job wasn’t a part of His family. The ones that God REALLY chides are Bildad, Zophar, and Eliphaz, and he was VERY mad at them, because he treated them like they were “outsiders”.
Most people who don’t express their anger are afraid that it somehow expressing it will cause a breach of relationship. I’ve found that the only people who feel that way about anger are people who don’t express it very much. I get angry and then 10 seconds later I’m not angry any more. If someone apologizes, I accept it. If they don’t…whatever. I’m not going to worry about their lack of ability to accept an apology.
I like Jake’s remembrance of the Greek gatherings. I love Greeks for exactly this reason. My fiancee has tons of Greek friends (some of whom are Christian) and we sit and fight and argue about everything, constantly interrupting each other, and everyone has a good time. If someone get’s hurt, we apologize and give them a big kiss. Like my Jewish friends. I don’t have that with most of my Christian friends, unfortunately. In general, they don’t know how to get mad and have a good fight without taking it so personally. They see it as a breach. Me, I hardly ever take something personally when someone is angry at me. I just apologize for mea culpa and get on with it, because I don’t assume that because that person is mad at me, that our relationship is broken.
So, to me it’s a cultural thing, not a Christian one. And, as far as Jesus with the moneychangers is concerned: remember, Jesus was Jewish, not Greek. He wasn’t a stoic (which has been rightly identified as the greatest threat to Christianity ever to exist).
So, Hugo, my suggestion is: go hang around some Jews or Greeks (or Italians, or any of the “hot-blooded” peoples. Don’t hang around any more Germans, Poles, Czechs, or other cold-weather people for a while). It’ll be good immersion therapy for you. If you want to be able to keep up with them, you’re going to have to learn how to fight, get mad, talk loudly and get over it all in less than 5 minutes. It’s good practice!
Last thing: Here’s a little saying I have about emotions (both the good ones and the bad ones): “Emotions are like the weather: they are the sky above my head, not the earth beneath my feet.”
Cheers,
Neil
P.S. - I think you’ve convinced me to do a post about this in much more detail…It’s a great topic. Cheers!
Well, Neil, it’s sound advice… and my girlfriend is Latin, so I am getting some sense of all of this!