Putting Away Anger

I used to keep many things of perceived value.  As a reformed packrat I now find a perverse joy in throwing stuff away, giving stuff away, or re-purposing stuff so that it earns its keep.  A few things remain difficult to part with; among them are tools, books, and old shirts.  For me the shirts are mostly talismans of memory for treasured experiences. Occasionally I do purge them, but most often I stop short of tossing them to remember the experience and I hear the refrain of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song:

 This shirt is a grand old relic, All the color’s washed away

I’ve had it now for more damn years than I can count anyway

I wear it beneath my jacket with the collar turned up high, So old I should replace it

But I’m not about to try

I recall those lyrics, and more often than not, I put the shirt away.

Paul tells us that part of living in unity is to be honest about the anger we experience.  He says, “Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil”.  First, he teaches us that anger is not sin.  He also cautions that how we deal with anger will determine whether the emotion, and the thoughts that accompany it, will evoke sinful behavior and an opportunity for Satan to sow disunity. 

While many take this directive to mean that there is a sundown limit for closure; I believe that the principle here is that urgency is needed when addressing bitterness before it begins its downward trend toward malice.  Be angry, but do not sin.  Find an honest, edifying, and timely way to deal with the emotion.  That makes sense to me.  But I often stop when hear the refrain of reasons I should not part with it quite yet; and I put it away.

I can put it away by staying quiet about it.  The problem is that when I publicly deny that I am angry my behavior betrays me.  When my anger is suppressed I know I am angry but I don’t want you to know.  Maybe it’s because I am afraid of retaliation, or maybe I just want to appear righteous (and a good Christian would never be angry about anything but people selling stuff in the temple, right?).  I may choose to suppress my anger when I am mad at you because I see you as too powerful for a frontal attack.  But you will know about it because the anger will come out in covert ways.  A friend once portrayed passive/aggressive behavior as a sheepdog with its paws on your shoulders, licking your face and peeing on your leg.

I can put it away by forgetting about it.  Repressed anger is particularly dangerous because when I do it well I don’t even know I’m angry anymore.  You’ll know, and you will ask me why I am so angry.  I will likely turn red in the face as I vehemently explicate that I am not angry.  Even as I push the boiling emotion out of my own awareness it will find a way to show itself in dreams and in repeated self-defeating behaviors.  Eventually it will show up in the form of a headache, an ulcer, or a lowered immunity.  

I can put it away by indiscriminately spewing it at others.  Expression of anger was deemed a human right in the 60s.  Entitled people like myself think that they would be dishonest, and somehow robbing you, if they did not share their every annoyance.  The problem is manifold.  To see expression of anger as healthy is to mistake the means for the end.  There is nothing health producing about catharsis in itself.  To express the anger alone would be like to casting out the demon only to find him moving back in with seven roommates.  It is addictive, and like most additions it feeds itself and kills its host.

O I can choose honesty.  I can confess my anger before or after it bears the fruit of sin as attitude or action.  There is freedom in knowing that in either case God knows about it and loves me anyway.  Disgusting or divine, the emotion is revealed to the one “to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid.”  When I tell him what my heart holds and invite him to hold my heart and mind in Christ Jesus I can take courage.  Equipped with his unswerving affection I can face you without excuses or persuasive explanations for my behavior.  I can put off falsehood to speak honestly with God, you, and myself. 

Given the choice to stuff it, spew it, or come clean about my emotion, I hope to make a habit of confession.  I’d likely live a longer happier life in relationship with God and you.  I could also avoid the complete waste of justifying my emotions.  My lifelong patterns of behavior are as comfortable as an old shirt, but If I practice confession regularly I believe I am going to have a lot more time on my hands.