Even as a kid I can recall
wondering why I got angry. I had two older brothers, so, of course, I directed a
lot of blame their way. Maybe they wouldn’t let me do something with them
because, according to them, I couldn’t keep up. That made me angry. Maybe they
were going to give me something I wanted, then didn’t and I got angry. One time I recall getting so mad at my mother
I told her I was going to run away from home. I stormed out the back door, went
up to the old barn that was our garage at the top of our driveway, and moped around
there for about fifteen minutes then returned. If others got angry at me, I would match them
with equally angry responses. But, no matter how I got angry, it always seemed
to go away pretty quickly and I would then wonder, why did that happen? Indeed, why anger?
I have no idea how old I was, but
gradually I began to realize that anger didn’t really work for me, whatever
that meant. I felt a sort of emptiness after being angry because it invariably
created more problems than it solved.
Plus, it never did seem to solve the original problems, anyway. So,
again, why anger? As a result, I decided to start ignoring opportunities I had
to become angry. I have not done it perfectly throughout my lifetime, but it has been a more satisfying
journey in the trying.
One of the reasons I decided anger
was not that necessary was that all of the stories about Jesus in the New
Testament usually depict him as peaceful and loving. And, according to these same stories, Jesus
experienced many opportunities in which he could have made very angry
responses, but he didn’t. He always found a way to bring light into the
darkness. That really impressed me and I understood it because I had felt that
same urge for peace and love, no matter what. The miracle stories about Jesus
were not nearly as impressive to me. Even as a young boy I knew that such
stories were about something other than factual history, so the realistic depictions of Jesus’ practical and loving human attitude, got my full attention.
God is the Truth underlying all of
reality and I love and honor that Truth, including, whatever that means in
totality. In other words, I have complete faith in perfection even as I cannot
comprehend how total perfection is made manifest. However, as I have life
experiences with others and learn, practical elements of ultimate Truth become
clearer to me and through that growth I have allowed anger to be less and less
important in my responses to others.
One of the most astonishing results
of reducing my anger responses was that the number of times I experienced
conflict, in general, diminished. It is as if my response of anger to any
situation marks it as a moment of conflict and the battle for the most
persuasive outbursts of anger from then on, begins. I just wasn’t interested in that, so I
stopped doing it, as best I could. Perhaps
another way of saying this is that what others say to or about you in anger has
no reality until you respond in anger, yourself. I have discovered that just being myself is more
persuasive than mounting an angry verbal defense of myself. Surely, that was the lesson Jesus was teaching us. Be so filled with the unconditional
love of God that nothing anyone else says or does changes your commitment to
expressing that love.
I am not perfect. I still have
moments of anger. But now I use those moments as opportunities to look inside
of myself for healing and ultimately, there are healings. Just as Jesus taught, I continue to love God
completely, and my neighbor as myself, and in so doing participate in bringing
God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
Amen.
