Epiphany 6: Anger/ Angry

Scripture Reading

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder,’ and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment, and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council, and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.
~Matthew 5:21-26 

 

Sermon      

Can you remember the last time you were angry? Really angry? A time when it was hard to curb your tongue or your behavior, or maybe a time you didn’t even try? I can. Last spring, I was driving on Route 26, between Main Street and the turnoff for Route 17 East. A red car—I have no idea what make or model; it was shiny—this red car came up on my left at something like twice the speed I was traveling, and just as I was turning onto the exit ramp, cut me off with only inches to spare, as they veered in front of me onto the ramp. Honestly, I was furious. I laid on my horn, to let them know what they did was unacceptable. Then I followed them down to Route 17, hanging back a bit—I didn’t want to get anywhere near that car. I tried to settle myself down.  I guess the red car’s driver felt they needed get in the last “word,” because they slowed down to match my speed until I was just a few feet from them. Then, at the next exit, they stopped short, right there in the right-hand lane of Route 17. I stopped, too—I had no choice. At that point I wasn’t even sure what was going on. After a few seconds, they took off—took the exit, and I was relieved to see that I wasn’t going to share the road with them any longer.

 

Jesus has some words for us this morning on anger. We are still immersed in his teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, these three chapters in the Gospel According to Matthew that are in some ways considered Jesus’ manifesto—everything you need to know about being a follower of his “Way.”  

 

This section of the sermon is known as the “antitheses,” a passage in which each topic is addressed with contrasting ideas, “Not this, but that.” Jesus begins with the words, “You have heard that it was said,” and then goes on to open up the topic with the words, “but I say to you.” Jesus is taking basic commandments, the law, and adding nuance, placing them in context. This morning, we’re looking at the first one. Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder,’ and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’” Jesus is quoting the Ten Commandments—spiritual and moral basics we find in the books of Exodus and Deuteronomy. You’ve that if you murder someone, he says, you will have to face justice.

 

But then, he goes on, “But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment, and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council, and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”

 

On first glance, this is somewhat shocking. For one thing, at its most basic, anger is a response to our surroundings—a physical response that we don’t actually have a lot of control over. The dictionary defines anger as “a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong.” In other words, you’re not happy, and you want to fight about it. If you’ve ever been angry, there’s no doubt you feel it in your body. Your heart races. You get a spike of endorphins. Your body is trying to tell you something. In the case of my encounter with the red car, I'm pretty sure my body was signaling that I was in danger. I was frightened by what felt to me like near miss. Reckless driving is dangerous. Anger is useful to us. It signals to us that something is wrong. Sometimes that signal arises as a result of being afraid.

 

But the definition of anger uses the term “a wrong.” In anger, sometimes we are responding to a “wrong.” Let’s not forget an incident in which Jesus appears to be angry, reported in all four gospels. Here’s Matthew’s version:

 

Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, “It is written,

‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’
    but you are making it a den of robbers.”     ~Matthew 21:12-13

 

Jesus sees a wrong in the Temple—the focus on buying and selling as opposed to the worship of God. This passage doesn’t call him angry, but it’s hard to imagine anyone flipping over tables in a state of complete calm. Jesus is angry because he has witnessed something wrong, and he acts in response to that anger. The anger of Jesus is holy.

 

Sometimes anger is a good and appropriate thing to experience. When we see and hear stories of people being victimized, when we believe people are being persecuted unjustly, when we watch as our leaders are taking us in the wrong direction, or abusing their power—anger is an appropriate and good response. Anger is holy. When we ourselves are victims of predators, or schemers, or abusers, anger is an appropriate and good response. Anger is holy.

 

Anger can also be a response to loss. Swiss psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross names anger as one of the stages of grief. We can read news stories right now out of Turkey, about the anger of citizens over shoddy building practices and the slow government response to the disastrous earthquake this week. I imagine their anger stems both from these wrongs and from the devastating loss of life they have suffered—more than 25,000 people dead as of Saturday afternoon.

 

So, what kind of anger is Jesus talking about, this anger that is not appropriate, not ok? Anger for which we will be judged? I can think of three kinds of anger that fall into that category.

 

The first is: Anger that is taken out on the innocent.

 

The second is: Anger that leads to violence.

 

The third is: Anger that we nurture—what I call anger as an addiction.

 

The first kind: We’ve all heard the old story of the businessman coming home grumpy from a bad day at work. He walks in the door and yells at his wife. His wife yells at the kids. One of the kids kicks the dog. Each stage in this passing along of anger is wrong, and unjust, whatever happened at work. The grumpy guy yelling at his wife, the woman yelling at her kids, and the kid kicking the dog—all these are examples of anger resulting in an innocent being harmed in some way. For all we know, the businessman may also have been the recipient of anger unfairly doled out in his workplace. But if that’s the case, then it’s his responsibility to deal with his anger in a way that is productive or at least unharmful. If he was unfairly targeted, he should talk to the person who yelled first. If that’s not possible or safe, he should do the work of noticing his anger, understanding his anger, and then self-soothing—a brisk walk, maybe asking for a hug when he walks in the door.

 

The second kind: Anger that leads to violence is always problematic—even if it is anger that was kindled by an injustice. In the 1960’s the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., influenced by the teachings of Mahatma Gandhi and German theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, devised ten rules for nonviolent actions or protests. To be clear: King and those with whom he worked had every right to be angry—wrongs were being done, had been built into government and systems, and affected Black people in this country every day. I say that like it’s in the past tense. It’s not. It’s still happening. Despite the injustice, King required everyone taking part in the nonviolent actions to adhere to these ten commandments:

 

1.   Meditate daily on the teachings and life of Jesus. Fun fact: Mahatma Gandhi read the Sermon on the Mount every single day.

2.   Remember always that the non-violent movement seeks justice and reconciliation - not victory.

3.   Walk and talk in the manner of love, for God is love.

4.   Pray daily to be used by God in order that all… might be free.

5.   Sacrifice personal wishes in order that all… might be free.

6.   Observe with both friend and foe the ordinary rules of courtesy.

7.   Seek to perform regular service for others and for the world.

8.   Refrain from the violence of fist, tongue, or heart.

9.   Strive to be in good spiritual and bodily health.

10.                 Follow the directions of the movement and of the captain on a demonstration.[i]

 

The energy produced by the righteous anger of the Civil Rights movement was harnessed for good by use of these ten commitments. Commitment # 8, sounds to me like a pretty good definition of the fruits of the unholy kind of anger: violence of fist, tongue, or heart.

 

The third kind of unacceptable anger is anger that is nurtured. I truly believe we have an epidemic of anger in our country and world. Many of our leaders in government make it a practice to provoke and stoke anger—to do everything they can to get and keep their constituents angry. I call this addictive anger, because an excess of endorphins surging around our bodies can become something we need to experience again and again. It’s as if we we’re not alive unless we’re seething about something. The best thing we could do, of course, would be to vote these knuckleheads out of office. But we can still protect ourselves against being used like this. We can choose not to tune into programming where anger is always center stage. We can choose to get our news from reputable sources. And we can choose to explore our anger: To ask where it has come from, what it means, and figure out how best to soothe ourselves or, even better, to transform that energy into something good and productive.

 

You have heard that it was said, says Jesus, that murder was the worst thing you could do. But filling your heart with anger and holding onto is just as death-dealing. Let’s interrogate our anger. Let’s understand the difference between holy, righteous anger, and the kind of anger that eats away at us, and at the fabric of our society. Let’s understand what it means when our anger turns out to be fear. And let’s remember that wonderful set of commitments Dr. King left to us, refraining, always, from violence of fist, tongue, and heart.

 

Thanks be to God.

 

Amen.


[i] David Swift, “Martin Luther King’s Ten Commandments for Nonviolence,” Buffalo Quakers’ Blog, Spring 2018, April 3, 2018, https://www.buffaloquakers.org/blog/2018/3/27/martin-luther-kings-ten-commandments-for-non-violence.