Lord God, take my words and speak through them,
take our minds and think through them,
take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. AMEN.
‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’ [Lk 9:54].
So say James and John, the aptly-named ‘Sons of Thunder’, when the Samaritan villageres will not welcome Jesus ‘because his face was set towards Jerusalem’ [Lk 9:53].
‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’
There can’t be many of us who haven’t felt something similar – whether it’s towards someone who has harmed or insulted us personally, or hurt someone we’re close to, or caused immense harm to others. Who wouldn’t want ‘fire to come down from heaven and consume’ the Russian forces invading Ukraine at the moment – or, at least to consume their President?’ And, in fact, it would be quite satisfying, at the end of this Refugee Week, if all of those people, either unjust governments across the world causing people to flee their homes and livelihoods in fear, or people smugglers who are profiting from their misery, if they could be consumed.
And, actually, the more I get into it, the more people I could think of who make me angry, and who could be added to the ‘Let them be smitten’ list!
But Jesus doesn’t accede to their request. Instead, ‘He turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village’ [Lk 9:55f.].
Is that what we should do with our anger? Just accept the rebuke and move on to the next village?
I don’t think it is.
There are plenty of occasions in the Bible when God is angry, and enough times in the Gospels when Jesus is angry, for us to know that anger has a place in the Christian vocabulary and emotions. There seem to me to be two strands for reflection in all of this: what is it that makes us angry, and what do we do with our anger?
Firstly, what is it that makes us angry? There are a lot of angry people around. It is difficult to tell whether there is more anger around these days, or whether it is just that people have more avenues to express their anger.
I don’t often get much involved in the Twittersphere, but the anger that is poured out there seems to me to be deeply disconcerting. So much of it seems to be self-righteous indignation.
It’s six years ago this week since we had the very divisive Brexit referendum, and that was either a cause or a symptom of a great ideological divide in our country, with many angry people on both sides of the argument – it’s a divide which we don’t seem to have been able to do much about healing so far.
When Jesus is angry, he is angry on behalf of others, not because he has been slighted, or ignored. ‘Jesus’ anger in the Gospels is… a nuanced emotion expressed in a variety of ways. His zeal or passionate ardour is unleashed on those who dare to turn his Father’s house into a market [Jn
2:17]. He is angry with the Pharisees who are about to plot his death, pained at their hardness of heart [Mk 3:5]. He is indignant with his disciples standing in the way of children [Mk 10:14]. He harshly rebukes those who are about flagrantly to disobey his clear command not to spread the news of a miracle’ [Matt 9:30; Mk 1:43] [See https://www.baylor.edu/content/services/document.php/235701.pdf]. The instances of his anger spring from his passionate desire for God’s will to be done, and from his passionate concern for others.
This seems to me to be the measure: when we’re feeling angry, is it on our own behalf, or on the behalf of others? Am I angry, because I’ve been snubbed, or ignored, or haven’t got my own way, or whatever? Or, am I angry because of injustice to the weakest in society, or because of the huge suffering in the world, or because of the unnecessary waste of potential I see in the life-opportunities of the poorest, or because of unnecessary warfare and civil strife which drives people from their homes? Is my anger because of concern for myself, or concern for others?
St James, in his Epistle, wisely writes, ‘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’ [Jas 1:19f.].
The measure of the justification for our anger is whether it is focussed on ourselves, or focussed on others.
The context is slightly different, but Dylan Thomas’s words seem apposite here:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
[Do not go gentle into that good night, Dylan Thomas – 1914-1953]
Wherever we see the ‘dying of the light’, we should be prepared to rage against it.
So, if our anger is righteous anger, what do we do with our it? What would be a good outcome from our anger?
The writer to the Ephesians has good advice here: ‘ Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger’ [Eph 4:26].
Righteous anger should lead to righteous action. Our anger at the ways of the world should lead us to want to make the world a better place.
Now, that can be problematical, because as individuals, we can’t solve every problem – not everything that outrages us has an easy answer, and often our anger is born out of a frustration that we can’t make everything better.
But there are always some things to which we can make a difference. Righteous anger should lead to righteous action.
We may need to pick our battles, and our actions will range from prayer for the situation with which we are concerned, to supporting humanitarian relief, to lobbying our MPs, to signing a petition, to forming an action group, to talking to someone whose actions are causing harm to others.
Uncontrolled anger is rarely useful. Controlled anger can lead to positive outcomes, locally, national, internationally.
Perhaps, over the coming days, we might find some time to reflect on James and John, and on their desire to ‘command fire to come down from heaven’ – and it’s interesting to note that they thought they had the power to do that. If you’re an angry person, perhaps some reflection would be useful on what makes you angry, and what actions, positive or negative, result from your anger. If you’re not an angry person, perhaps you might want to reflect on whether you care enough about what is going on in the world around you, and whether a bit more fire in your belly wouldn’t help to make a difference to the injustices you see around you, and your response to wider humanitarian crises and needs.
As you read or reflect on this passage from Luke 9 over the course of the week ahead, see whether these two questions have any resonance for you: What is it that makes you angry, and what should you do with your anger? AMEN.
