Gospel of Anger

Can anything good come out of anger? (Apologies to John 1:46) Here's what the apostle James had to say:

You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God's righteousness.
(James 1:19-20, NRSV)

Our theme at “Agnostics Anonymous” last night was “Can anger be useful or helpful?” And the consensus - from our small cross-section of people of several faiths or none - was that, for the most part, it can't. We talked about the destructiveness of anger (does it ever produce a positive result or reaction?) and about the way people get stuck in anger, and about the almost addictive adrenaline surge of anger, which means the best way to deal with a very angry person is to leave him or her well alone until they subside. Not so easy to do when someone has just put a sledgehammer through your windscreen, obviously (maybe best just to breathe deeply and close your eyes?...)

However. I do think there is such a thing as righteous, or justified, anger. But I would want to be very hesitant about claiming that my own anger is righteous. Every so often, though, we are able to move beyond our own impatience, or wounded pride, or world-class skill at taking offence - the usual motives for anger - and rise up against something which is so clearly wrong that, for anyone with a heart still beating, anger is the only right response. We all know that Jesus got angry - most of all, with religious hypocrites who tried to make good behaviour the pre-condition for receiving God's favour (and yes, this does still go on). And we can recognise justified anger when we see it now: Desmond Tutu exploding at the pettiness of the South African authorities in refusing the Dalai Lama a visa; thousands around the world insisting on protesting against corruption and greed. There are times when it's right to be angry.

But cautionary words are in order. First check: is my anger likely to hurt others? Second check: am I sure that my anger is not just about my wounded feelings, but about something bigger, something clearly unjust? And third check (implied by the other 2, and by James' words above): have I stopped before expressing my anger, not to inhibit or dampen it, but to examine it, to bring it to God in prayer - he's used to angry prayers! - and to test, in the echo-chamber of my conscience, whether it is right for me to be angry.

And finally (pace dear Desmond) there's nothing more powerful than an anger which is expressed clearly, but calmly and quietly. Perhaps this is how God's anger works: quiet words, not making us flee in fear, but piercing our hearts with the knowledge of our wrongdoing. And all of it from love.