Chapter Sixteen: The Weeds of Anger
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Weeds of Anger
For reasons I will explain in a moment, we need to look more deeply at the topic of anger and anger’s unruly offspring. We tend to think of our anger in terms of episodes. We get angry, and then we get over it. Sometimes we apologize to the person who is the object of our anger, and sometimes we don’t. But somehow the other person, apology or not, gets over his defensive response, whether an angry outward retort or an inner resentment, and life goes on as usual. The relationship has been scarred but not broken. It’s not a great way to live with one another, but it’s tolerable. That seems to be the way far too many believers view the sin of anger. They’ve just come to accept it as part of life.
The Bible, however, is not so sanguine about our anger. Rather, it tells us to put it away (see Ephesians 4:31; Colossians 3:8). If you take the time to look up these texts, you will see that in each of them, anger is associated with such ugly sins as bitterness, clamor, wrath, slander, malice, and obscene talk. It is also included in a similar list of despicable sins in 2 Corinthians 12:20. Clearly, anger does not keep good company. It often associates itself with what we would consider more serious sins and actually leads to some of them.
But what about the Scripture that says, “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger” (Ephesians 4:26)? Paul is not granting permission to be angry, let alone commanding it, as the imperative mood might suggest. Rather, Paul takes it for granted that we will become angry, and he is telling us how to handle it. Basically he is saying, “Don’t hold on to your anger. Get over it quickly.” That’s why he adds the clarifying statement, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.”
We have an idiomatic expression, “Nip it in the bud.” That’s what Paul is telling us to do. Deal with your anger swiftly, but above all, don’t go to bed with it still in your heart. At best, anger is sin (with the rare exception of true righteous anger), and at worst, it leads to even greater sins.
In this chapter, we are going to look at some of the long-term results of anger; what I call “weeds of anger.” I have deliberately chosen the word weeds because weeds are always something we want to get rid of. But the weeds of anger are not benign; they are noxious. They can poison our minds and the minds of others around us. What, then, are some of the noxious weeds that spring up from unresolved anger?
Resentment is anger held on to. Most often it is internalized. It arises in the heart of a person who is ill-treated in some way but who does not feel in a position to do anything about it. An employee may feel ill-treated by his boss but doesn’t dare react in an outwardly angry fashion, so he internalizes it in the form of resentment. A wife may react similarly toward an overbearing husband. Resentment may be more difficult to deal with than outwardly expressed anger because the person often continues to nurse his wounds and dwell on his ill-treatment.
Bitterness is resentment that has grown into a feeling of ongoing animosity. Whereas resentment may dissipate over time, bitterness continues to grow and fester, developing an even higher degree of ill will. It is usually the long-term reaction to real or perceived wrong when the initial anger is not dealt with.
An elder intervened in a situation regarding a teenage girl in his local church. The girl’s father thought the elder had mishandled the situation. Instead of seeking to resolve the issue, he became angry and then bitter. In the words of the pastor, he was “eaten up with bitterness.” The father said to the pastor, “I’ve forgiven him, but I don’t want anything to do with him.” Quite obviously he had not forgiven. True forgiveness results in a restored relationship, not continuing animosity. This man was consumed with bitterness, but in his self-righteousness he couldn’t see it. All he could see was the perceived or actual wrong of the elder, which he continued to dwell on.
As this story illustrates, bitterness frequently occurs within a local church family. Someone is ill-treated in some way, or at least she thinks she has been. Instead of seeking to resolve the issue, she allows her hurt to fester and over time becomes bitter. Or it may be that she has sought to resolve the issue and the other person does not respond. Perhaps she has even gone to one of the pastoral staff who doesn’t seriously listen to her and so dismisses her with the thought that it is all her problem. But regardless of the actual or perceived ill-treatment, bitterness is never a biblical option. We can be hurt, and acknowledge that we have been hurt, without becoming bitter.
Of course, bitterness can occur in any interpersonal relationship, but it too often occurs among people who should love each other. I referred to the church family. That’s what we are. We are brothers and sisters in Christ. But bitterness may also occur in human families among physical brothers and sisters. A son or daughter may feel that the parents are showing favoritism toward a sibling, and, in fact, that might be an accurate perception. But if the son or daughter is a Christian, he or she must not nurse that feeling until resentment becomes bitterness. Sometimes adult siblings can become bitter over failing to receive what they consider their fair share of the family inheritance. Once again, for the person who wants to follow Christ, bitterness is never an option.1
Enmity and hostility are essentially synonymous and denote a higher level of ill will or animosity than does bitterness. Whereas bitterness may to some degree be marked by polite behavior, enmity or hostility is usually expressed openly. Often it is in the form of denigrating or even hateful speech toward or about the objects of the animosity. Additionally, though bitterness may be harbored within one’s own heart, enmity or hostility usually spreads its poison outward to involve other people.
Grudge (as in holding a grudge) occurs five times in the Bible (see Genesis 27:41; 50:15; Leviticus 19:18; Psalm 55:3; Mark 6:19). It will help us understand the depths of animosity and ill will implied in the word grudge when we see that in the two Genesis texts, the English Standard Version uses hate instead of grudge. In all five occurrences, the word is associated with taking revenge on the object of the grudge. For example, Esau hated Jacob and planned to kill him (see Genesis 27:41). Joseph’s brothers were afraid he would hate them and pay them back for all the evil they had done to him (see Genesis 50:15). In the New Testament, Herodius had a grudge against John the Baptist and wanted to put him to death (see Mark 6:19).
Today we probably wouldn’t associate holding a grudge with plans to kill someone. Oftentimes, however, people will plan, if only in their minds, ways to get revenge against the person they hold a grudge against. They usually dare not execute those plans, but they get a perverse enjoyment out of going over them in their minds. This can be true even among Christians. That is why Paul found it necessary to write the exhortation of Romans 12:19-21:
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Strife describes open conflict or turmoil between parties, usually between opposing groups as distinct from individuals. That’s why we speak of “church fights” or “family feuds.” It’s always ugly and goes beyond the bounds of “respectable” sins, and it certainly isn’t subtle. But I include it because it often occurs between self-righteous Christians who never consider the possibility that their own attitudes or heated words contribute to the strife. In their minds, it is always the other party who is in the wrong and is causing the strife.
The above descriptions of these noxious “weeds of anger” are not intended to be dictionary definitions of terms, nor do I mean to draw a sharp distinction between them. Terminology here is not important. What I want us to see is that anger, held on to, is not only sin, it is spiritually dangerous. And if you will scan back over these weeds, you will see that there is something of an escalation of feelings of ill will and dissension. Anger is never static. If it is not dealt with, it will grow into bitterness, hostility, and revenge-minded grudges. No wonder that Paul said, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.”
How, then, can we deal with our anger so that it does not begin to sprout these noxious weeds? How can we nip it in the bud so that the sun does not go down on it? Let me give three basic directions.
First, we must always look to the sovereignty of God. God doesn’t cause people to sin against us, but He does allow it, and it is always allowed for a purpose — most often our own growth in Christlikeness. When Joseph was grievously sinned against by his own brothers and sold into slavery, he did not become bitter. Instead he could say to his brothers, “It was not you who sent me here, but God” (Genesis 45:8). Granted, he said those words after he had been elevated to the second highest position in Egypt, but they were true from the day the brothers sold Joseph into slavery. And during those years as a slave in Potiphar’s house and the subsequent years as a prisoner for a crime he did not commit, the biblical narrative never suggests that Joseph became bitter. Instead it tells us that he did his work well (certainly not the attitude of a bitter person) and was so well regarded by Potiphar and the keeper of the prison that both of them put him in charge of major responsibilities.
I have found that a firm belief in the sovereignty of God is my first defense against a temptation to allow anger to linger in my mind and emotions. If I want to deal with the temptation decisively, I actively call to my mind that the actions of another person (or persons) that triggered my initial response of anger are under the sovereign control of God. Though the actions may be sinful in themselves, God intends them for my good. As Joseph said to his brothers, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20).
As I have already observed, the good may be an opportunity to grow in Christlikeness. But God may also have other ends in view, perhaps to prepare us in some way for greater usefulness. Or we may never know what good God brought out of a specific situation where we were tempted to become angry. But it is enough to know that however difficult the situation, and however strong the resultant temptation to become angry, God intends good. Actively reflecting on this great truth of God’s sovereignty is my first step to defuse anger.
Second, we should pray that God will enable us to grow in love. In 1 Peter, which is a letter urging its readers to pursue holiness, even in the face of tough times, Peter keeps emphasizing the importance of brotherly love — that is love toward fellow believers. For example, he writes, “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).
Peter’s words mean that love enables us to overlook a lot of sinful actions of other people. If someone snubs you or does something that embarrasses you or inconveniences you, love will enable you to overlook it. Remember, we can choose how we react to the real or perceived wrong actions of other people. The phrase I’ve already used twice in this chapter, “nip it in the bud,” especially applies here. While love may not “cover” significant sins against us, it can certainly cover many ordinary wrongs.
When the strong-willed husband comes home and finds the house in a mess and dinner not prepared, he can allow love to cover the situation. In fact, if he follows the path of love, he will not only overlook that which tempts him to anger, he will roll up his sleeves and pitch in to help. He will follow the example of the Lord Jesus, who in full awareness of His deity performed the most menial task of washing the disciples’ feet (see John 13:2-15).
We are to love one another earnestly; that is, we are to pursue it diligently. The love that overlooks an offense doesn’t just happen. It comes as we pursue it diligently in dependence on the Holy Spirit.
The apostle Paul echoes Peter’s words when he writes, “[Love] … is not easily angered” (1 Corinthians 13:5, NIV). That is a statement we all need to ponder. Are you easily angered? Can just a little sarcastic remark by someone almost ruin your day, or can you, out of love for the person who made the remark, shrug it off or “cover” it? There is probably nothing more corrosive in interpersonal relationships than an unruly tongue (see James 3:5-10). In chapter 19, we’ll address this issue from the standpoint of the speaker, but for now let’s focus on our response toward someone else’s tongue.
We’re all familiar with the old rhyme, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” And we all know it isn’t true. Sinful words do hurt, especially if they come from someone close to us, but we can choose whether or not they make us angry. We can absorb the hurt as real hurt without becoming angry at the person who spoke the hurtful words. But to do that, we must love that person deeply so that we are not easily angered by unkind words.
Paul also tells us, “[Love] … keeps no record of wrongs” (1 Corinthians 13:5, NIV). Do you tend to file away in your mind wrongs done to you? This is a sure road to bitterness. The statement, “I can forgive, but I can’t forget,” simply isn’t true. If you keep rehearsing in your mind old hurts that occurred months or maybe even years ago, you haven’t forgiven. You are simply feeding your bitterness. To keep no record of wrongs means we cease to bring them up to ourselves or to another party. It does not mean we erase the hurt from our minds. We can’t do that. But it does mean we don’t actively keep bringing it up and feeding on it. And it also means that if it does come to our minds involuntarily, perhaps triggered by another incident, we immediately dismiss it. We do not give it a chance to gain a foothold in our conscious thinking.
The third direction is to learn to forgive as God has forgiven you. The Scripture that helps me most to practice forgiveness is the parable of the unforgiving servant (see Matthew 18:21-35). The occasion of the parable was Peter’s question to Jesus, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (verse 21), which means, as often as he sins, however many times that is, is well known to us. Then Jesus tells the parable of the unforgiving servant. However, the parable doesn’t speak directly to the number of times we are to forgive, but to the basis of our forgiving one another.
The parable tells of a king’s servant who owed the king ten thousand talents. A talent was six thousand denarii. Without going into the math, the servant owed the equivalent of 200,000 years of wages for the typical laborer. That would be about six to eight billion dollars in our present-day labor market. Jesus sometimes used hyperbole to make His point, and this was one of those occasions. There was no way a servant to the king could have accumulated such a huge debt, but we’ll see shortly why Jesus used such an immense sum of money.
The servant begged for patience on the part of the king to give him time to repay what he owed. This was purely wishful thinking on the servant’s part. There was no way he could repay it. So the king took pity on him and forgave him the debt.
Then this servant went away from the king’s presence and found a fellow servant who owed him one hundred denarii — about one-third of a year’s wages or by today’s reckoning about ten to fifteen thousand dollars. This second servant also pleaded for patience, but the servant who had just been forgiven of over six billion dollars refused and committed him to prison.
The message of the parable turns on the vast difference between the amounts of the two debts: over six billion dollars and ten to fifteen thousand dollars. Ten to fifteen thousand dollars is not an insignificant sum, even to us today. But for the disciples who heard this parable directly from Jesus, it would have been even more significant, a third of a year’s wages.
Now, the first sum of money represents our moral and spiritual debt to God. Though in the master/servant world of that day, six to eight billion dollars would be hyperbole, in our relationship with God, it is an accurate representation of our debt to Him. Regardless of how moral and spiritual we have been, the debt of our sin is enormous. The damage to God’s glory by our sin is determined not by the severity of our sin but by the value of God’s glory.
If I spill black indelible ink on a rug you bought at the local discount store, that’s bad. But if I spill the same ink on your very expensive Persian rug, that’s really bad. Why? My act is the same and the ink is the same, but the value of the two rugs is vastly different. The extent of the damage is determined not by the size of the ink blobs on the two rugs but by the respective value of each of them.
This is how we should think of our sin against God. Every sin we commit, regardless of how insignificant it seems to us, is an assault on His infinite glory. And the value of an expensive rug, even if it’s millions of dollars, is nothing compared to the value of God’s glory. So we all are represented by the first servant who owed ten thousand talents. Our debt to God is utterly unpayable.
Let’s go back to the parable. What happened to the billions of dollars the first servant owed? Could the king just walk away and forget it? Were there no financial consequences to him? No, it’s not that easy. The moment the king forgave the debt, his net worth was reduced by six to eight billion dollars. It cost the king tremendously to forgive his servant’s debt.
In the same manner, it cost God to forgive us. It cost Him the death of His Son. No price can be put on that death, but God paid it so He could forgive each of us of the enormous spiritual debt we owed to Him.
The message should be clear. The moral debt of wrongdoing, of sinful words and acts against us, is virtually nothing compared to our debt to God. I’m not minimizing the seriousness of hurts or damages you may have experienced. In the parable, ten to fifteen thousand dollars was a lot more than coffee-break money at work. It was a third of a year’s wages. And the wrongs you have suffered may be much more than an occasional snub or word of gossip about you. They may have been quite damaging to you in some way. But compared to the damage each of us has done to God’s glory, it’s a small amount.
This basis of our forgiving one another, then, is the enormity of God’s forgiveness of us. We are to forgive because we have been forgiven so much. Until we acknowledge that we are the ten-thousand-talent debtor to God, we will struggle with forgiving people who have wronged us in significant ways or people who continue to wrong us.
But once we embrace the reality that we truly are such debtors to God because of our continual sin against Him, we can say when wronged, “God, that was a terrible wrong against me, but I am the ten-thousand-talent debtor. His sin against me was nothing compared to my sin against You, and because You have forgiven me, I, from my heart, forgive that person.”
I don’t want to imply that praying in such a way, even when done sincerely, will cause our anger to immediately disappear. The flesh doesn’t give up that easily. But the attitude expressed in such a prayer does give us a weapon to use to put our anger to death.
As we come to the end of this second chapter on anger, I’m sure that both chapters raise some questions or objections. Some readers may think I’m ignoring such tough issues as abusive parents or spouse, or some of the systemic injustices prevalent in our society. Some may think, He doesn’t know what I’ve been through. If he did, he wouldn’t be so smug with his answers.
In response, let me say that it is beyond the purpose of this book to address the various issues that trigger our anger. And I certainly don’t advocate that we play “doormat” Christianity, letting people continually run over us or abuse us. There are times when we must stand up for what is right and just. But we should not sin in the process. That is what I’m after.
My goal in these two chapters is to help us face the fact that much, if not most, of our anger is sinful, even though it may arise from the sinful actions of others. In emphasizing our sin of anger, I do not mean to minimize the sin of those other people. But there is an old saying, “Two wrongs never make a right.” The other person’s sin does not make our sin of anger “right” or justifiable. Or as James wrote, “The anger of man does not produce the righteousness that God requires” (1:20).
Furthermore, I suspect that much of our anger is not a result of significant injustices or wrongs against us but is the manifestation of our own pride and selfishness. I have been embarrassed or inconvenienced or frustrated by the actions (or even the inactions) of other people, so I get angry. While there is plenty of injustice that deserves a response of righteous anger, we should not use that as an excuse to evade the reality of the sinful anger that so often arises in our hearts and may be expressed by our words or actions.
So again, I commend to you the three principles or practices that I find so helpful: a firm belief in the sovereignty of God; a diligent pursuit of brotherly love that covers a multitude of sins and does not keep a record of wrongs; and a humble realization that, in comparison to my brother’s sin against me, I am the ten-thousand-talent debtor to God.