Saturday, June 30, 2018

Anger?


Recently I've been in conversations about anger, it is acceptable for Christians? Is it sinful, or as Ephesians 4:26-27 puts it:  “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,  and do not give the devil a foothold. Can we be angry and not be sinning?

When you read the Old Testament, you find passages like this one (CEB): Get up, Lord; get angry! Stand up against the fury of my foes! Wake up, my God; you command that justice be done! God is a righteous judge, a God who is angry at evil every single day. Psalm 7:6,11

If God is angry at evil, surely we should be.


Here's what we easily agree on. As Ephesians reminds us, anger can lead to sin. We sin when we hurt others through our anger, certainly physically through violence, and even with our cruel words. When we yell insults at people, even those we love, the pain inflicted doesn't fully heal, even if it scabs over. We can apologize, but the truth hurts, and we didn't call someone lazy or conceited if we didn't in some sense mean it. Anger doesn't make us call skinny people fat, or tall people short. It brings out ugly realities that when we are calm we know are better left unspoken. These expressions of anger remain wrong, and Christians should avoid them, and seek forgiveness and restoration when we mess up.

True in interpersonal relationships, the same holds true in nonpersonal relationships, so yelling epithets at strangers we don't agree with, or calling them names on Facebook, qualifies as sin.

But what about righteous anger? If God is angry at evil, how about us? How do we do that and not sin?

We shouldn't get personal and call people mean names. But can we raise our voice? Is yelling an option? To answer that, we have to realize that such responses are personality and culturally driven. Some people are yellers. Just raising your voice does not mean sinning. Think of preaching in the black church, which often happens at much higher decibels than in white churches. So too responses to injustice can happen at a raised pitch and not be sinful.

In the classic work by Thomas Kochman, Black and White Styles in Conflict, the author explains the level of discomfort white people experience when witnessing black people in an argument. He clarifies that typically as long at the two people do not touch each other, violence is not intended, and no one need show concern. The argument carries on at a louder volume than a typical white argument while still being civil and safe. (Of course personality differences exist in every culture, so not all black people raise their voices in arguments.)

We need to bear caution in assuming the intent of the people involved in an argument. In addition, people who have typically been in the majority should make room for protest in those who have been oppressed. Martin Luther King, Jr. said riots are the language of the unheard. So it is easy for white people or others in power to condemn what seems a sinful expression of anger, while not understanding the level of frustration that would lead to such a response. When quiet talk brings no results, then what?

Another often mentioned reality equates anger with sadness, that anger happens when sadness turns outward. As such, anger can be a necessary response to life situations. Anger forms a necessary stage of grief, which can apply not just to the loss of a loved one, but also to the loss of anything important, a job, the power to choose, an apartment. Much of what becomes political action stems from loss, the loss of the right to vote, the right to stay in this country, the right to exist unassaulted by the police. These losses understandably lead to anger.

When we witness others expressing anger, and perhaps we think even verging on a sinful expression, listening can be our first response. Condemning their actions could easily escalate the situation, instead of becoming a safe place to share.

Robin D’Angelo states, “The history of extensive and brutal violence perpetrated by whites; slavery, genocide, lynching, whipping, forced sterilization, and medical experimentation, to name a few, is trivialized when we claim we don’t feel safe or are under attack when in the rare situation of merely talking about race with people of color.” Not feeling safe just listening to someone pales compared to what they may have experienced that they are trying to share.

When I attended a local rally for Families Belong Together, protesting the separation of children at the border, I listened to the speakers with tears rolling down my cheeks. This connected for me in a dramatic and up close fashion the relationship between sadness and anger. The atrocities being committed in these days make me cry. But sadness leads to depression and inactivity. We often retreat in desperation.

When we turn that sadness into righteous anger, we act. A passion for justice has driven me most of my life. That passion keeps me motivated to help, not just to march or write letters, but to help actual people in need. That matters. That's a response worthy of righteous anger.

I would imagine as Psalm 7 says, God is angry at evil every day, for evil abounds. Like God that's the anger I want to tap into, what makes God angry should motivate me. I don't want to step into hurtful practices in my anger. But I also want to avoid judging other peoples' responses, for I know not what they bear in their hearts. May God guide us all to act and make a difference.

Anger?

Recently I've been in conversations about anger, it is acceptable for Christians? Is it sinful, or as Ephesians 4:26-27 puts it:  “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,  and do not give the devil a foothold. Can we be angry and not be sinning?

When you read the Old Testament, you find passages like this one (CEB): Get up, Lord; get angry! Stand up against the fury of my foes! Wake up, my God; you command that justice be done! God is a righteous judge, a God who is angry at evil every single day. Psalm 7:6,11

If God is angry at evil, surely we should be. 

Here's what we easily agree on. As Ephesians reminds us, anger can lead to sin. We sin when we hurt others through our anger, certainly physically through violence, and even with our cruel words. When we yell insults at people, even those we love, the pain inflicted doesn't fully heal, even if it scabs over. We can apologize, but the truth hurts, and we didn't call someone lazy or conceited if we didn't in some sense mean it. Anger doesn't make us call skinny people fat, or tall people short. It brings out ugly realities that when we are calm we know are better left unspoken. These expressions of anger remain wrong, and Christians should avoid them, and seek forgiveness and restoration when we mess up.

True in interpersonal relationships, the same holds true in nonpersonal relationships, so yelling epithets at strangers we don't agree with, or calling them names on Facebook, qualifies as sin.


But what about righteous anger? If God is angry at evil, how about us? How do we do that and not sin?

We shouldn't get personal and call people mean names. But can we raise our voice? Is yelling an option? To answer that, we have to realize that such responses are personality and culturally driven. Some people are yellers. Just raising your voice does not mean sinning. Think of preaching in the black church, which often happens at much higher decibels than in white churches. So too responses to injustice can happen at a raised pitch and not be sinful.

In the classic work by Thomas Kochman, Black and White Styles in Conflict, the author explains the level of discomfort white people experience when witnessing black people in an argument. He clarifies that typically as long at the two people do not touch each other, violence is not intended, and no one need show concern. The argument carries on at a louder volume than a typical white argument while still being civil and safe. (Of course personality differences exist in every culture, so not all black people raise their voices in arguments.)

We need to bear caution in assuming the intent of the people involved in an argument. In addition, people who have typically been in the majority should make room for protest in those who have been oppressed. Martin Luther King, Jr. said riots are the language of the unheard. So it is easy for white people or others in power to condemn what seems a sinful expression of anger, while not understanding the level of frustration that would lead to such a response. When quiet talk brings no results, then what?

Another often mentioned reality equates anger with sadness, that anger happens when sadness turns outward. As such, anger can be a necessary response to life situations. Anger forms a necessary stage of grief, which can apply not just to the loss of a loved one, but also to the loss of anything important, a job, the power to choose, an apartment. Much of what becomes political action stems from loss, the loss of the right to vote, the right to stay in this country, the right to exist unassaulted by the police. These losses understandably lead to anger.

When we witness others expressing anger, and perhaps we think even verging on a sinful expression, listening can be our first response. Condemning their actions could easily escalate the situation, instead of becoming a safe place to share. 

Robin D’Angelo states, “The history of extensive and brutal violence perpetrated by whites; slavery, genocide, lynching, whipping, forced sterilization, and medical experimentation, to name a few, is trivialized when we claim we don’t feel safe or are under attack when in the rare situation of merely talking about race with people of color.” Not feeling safe just listening to someone pales compared to what they may have experienced that they are trying to share.

When I attended a local rally for Families Belong Together, protesting the separation of children at the border, I listened to the speakers with tears rolling down my cheeks. This connected for me in a dramatic and up close fashion the relationship between sadness and anger. The atrocities being committed in these days make me cry. But sadness leads to depression and inactivity. We often retreat in desperation.

When we turn that sadness into righteous anger, we act. A passion for justice has driven me most of my life. That passion keeps me motivated to help, not just to march or write letters, but to help actual people in need. That matters. That's a response worthy of righteous anger. 

I would imagine as Psalm 7 says, God is angry at evil every day, for evil abounds. Like God that's the anger I want to tap into, what makes God angry should motivate me. I don't want to step into hurtful practices in my anger. But I also want to avoid judging other peoples' responses, for I know not what they bear in their hearts. May God guide us all to act and make a difference.