If I were
to venture a guess as to the most commonly confessed passion that I hear in
confessions, I would say that it is anger.
Just about everyone is angry.
According to many of the saints, anger and misdirected desire are the
two main passions from which all vices and passions come. The sources of anger can be varied, but I
think there are two sources of anger that are most common in the people here in
western Canada whom I confess and with whom I often have ‘confessional chats.’
The first
source is, it seems to me, cultural expectation. There is a cultural expectation in Canada,
and in North America generally—especially among the privileged class (usually
of European descent, working class or better off financially, and that is most
pronounced among the better educated)—an expectation that life would, could,
and should be fair. We in North America
generally have egalitarian suppositions and expectations. We expect the courts, institutions,
businesses and other people in general to treat us fairly and equally. And when this is not the case, when either I
or someone with whom I identify is treated unfairly, I become angry.
Anger
coming from this source, if the source is not a particular injustice I am
experiencing, often comes from politics, from identifying with a particular
political position, party or issue. That
is, although I myself am not immediately or directly effected by a real and
immediate injustice, I identify with those who are or seem to be or even might
possibly be effected. Some Christians,
particularly those especially interested in political action, argue that such
vicariously acquired anger is a good thing because it motivates one to work
politically for change in unjust systems.
The Church Fathers of the desert and philokalic tradition, however, see
things differently.
In this
particular ancient tradition, anger, or any passion for that matter, is not an
appropriate motivation for any action.
This tradition takes seriously Jesus’ admonition to think of others as
better than oneself. Instead of seeing
the problem of injustice as a matter of poorly constructed systems or even of
particular people who selfishly oppress others, the Fathers and Mothers of the
desert see the problem of oppression as a spiritual problem. For them, the oppressor is also a victim, a
victim to his or her passions which are driven by demonic forces. And when you see your oppressor as also a
victim, you can begin to have pity on her, you can begin even to love your
enemy.
This does
not mean, however, that one should just be a doormat—as people often ask of me
at this point in the conversation. It
does mean, though, that one should allow pity and love to douse the fire of
anger in your heart. Of course one must
act, personally and politically, in whatever ways are possible and appropriate
to make the world a better place, but not with anger burning in your
heart. Anger blinds and deafens. Anger keeps us from thinking clearly and from
paying attention to and loving the human beings in our presence right now. Anger drives away the Holy Spirit and
consistently leads us to say and do things we later regret. Anger is not the way.
One
technique that I have found helpful as I wrestle with anger of this sort, of
the sort coming from injustice and unfairness in my life or in the world, has
been to rethink my cultural assumptions. My assumption that the world would, could, or should be a just place has
to be reconsidered. Jesus did say, after
all, “in the world you will have tribulation” and “if they persecuted me they
will persecute you.” And doesn’t the
scripture speak everywhere—except in reference to the eschaton—that the rich
and powerful generally trample upon the poor, and therefore the Lord must help
them? This unfairness and oppression is
part of the way this fallen world is. Where do you think the evolutionists
(social or biological) got the idea of the survival of the fittest? I, or the ones I identify with, am not being
specifically targeted, except that I am poorer or weaker or less privileged or
less whatever than the one who wants to take from me what I think is mine: my
right, my privilege, my possession, my parking space.
Acknowledging
that this is the way the world is, is not to say that it’s OK. It’s not OK that the strong oppress the weak,
but it is nonetheless how the world largely functions. Sure, there are some systems that seem to be
inherently less unjust than others. In
one area, the bad guys may wear athletic suits and carry brass knuckles and in
another they may were designer suits and carry briefcases. The means by which the rich and powerful get
their way may vary, but just about always the rich and powerful get their
way. It’s the way of this world. And as a Christian, of course, whenever
possible, I need to act in ways that are not of this world. And as much as is possible, I need to resist
and not be complicit in oppression and violence. This is the way of Jesus, the way of the
cross. However, the way of the cross is
not the way of anger. It is the way of
self-sacrifical love.
And more
than this, we pray. The scripture and
particularly the Psalms are full of encouragement that the power of the
oppressor, even the power of the very devil itself, is limited by God. Sure, political systems and justice systems
can be improved and made more just, but ultimately it is God who delivers us
from our enemies. And if we don’t do
business with God, if we don’t first and foremost recognize that ours is a
spiritual battle played out in this fallen and unjust world, if we don’t master
our own anger most of all, then even if we succeed in meeting our external
objectives, we will only replace one dictator with another, one crooked system
with another, one loop-hole ridden set of laws with another. And so the anger remains. At least that is what seems most often to
play out historically.
Another
common source of anger, and not unrelated to the first, is more personal. It has to do with not getting my own
way. A priest friend of mine used to
often say that every thought I have starts with the assumption that I am good,
I am right, and I and innocent. And to
this I would add at least one more: and that I already see the situation
clearly. When trying to solve a problem,
we just about always assume that our solution is the best one, and when others
don’t see it that way, it frustrates us and leads to anger. How often parents and children, wives and
husbands, employees and employers tell me that they struggle with anger because
the one won’t do (or let them do) what the other tells them is the best thing
to do. A child is angry with her parents
because her parents won’t listen to her (i.e. won’t let her do what she thinks
is best) Parents are angry at a child
because he won’t listen (i.e. won’t do what the parents think is best). And so
on it goes.
There is
an illuminating story in the letters of Sts. Barsanuphius and John that
addresses this problem of anger coming from not getting one’s way. John of Beersheba [different from St.
Barsanuphius’ friend, St. John] was a leader (but not, apparently, abbot) in a
monastery that was doing some construction.
Because he was skilled and experienced in architecture, he was assigned
the task of drawing up the plans. After
he had made the plans, and unknown to him, some of the brothers made changes to
the plan that “somewhat spoiled” them.
St. Barsanuphius writes to this John and advises him to deal with his
anger by keeping this thought in his mind: “Did I become subject to God to
subject others?” According to St.
Barsanuphius, anger is overcome when we remind ourselves that we are subject to
God, so our job is not to subjugate others, to make them submit—even if we’re
right!
Does this
mean, then, that the brothers were right to change the architectural plans
without talking to John? No, certainly not.
The brothers failed. However,
that’s the brothers’ problem to wrestle with, not John’s. John’s anger came from his (self) righteous
indignation that he was not fully listened to initially nor consulted when
changes to his plan were proposed. And
the fact that the building was “somewhat spoiled” only added a pretext of
justification for his anger. However,
St. Barsanuphius’ advice to John is to remember that it is not his place or
responsibility to subjugate others; rather his place is to submit to God.
So much
of the anger we struggle with is of this nature. Someone who should listen to us doesn’t. What we see as clearly right, clearly good,
clearly the will of God, someone else does not see at all. What we see as our authority, our expertise,
our privileged or our unique perspective, the other seems to show no respect
for at all. And so we become angry. Teenagers are angry because parents do not
respect their unique perspective on their own life. Parents are angry with children because they
do not respect the authority and experience they have to offer. Parishioners (or the clergy) with expertise
or experience or concerns in one area are angry with other parishioners (or
clergy) because their expertise or experience or concerns seem to be ignored—or
given less weight than they think they should be given. And so (self) righteous indignation fuels
anger, and anger results in blindness and deafness and further strife.
But, you
may argue, I am the parent or the priest or the expert or the one who will be
most effected by the outcome. I have a
right to be listen to. I have a right to
be obeyed. This may indeed often be the
case. Nevertheless, anger, especially
ongoing anger, is never a helpful nor appropriate response. And St. Barsanuphius recommends that to
overcome anger you remind yourself that you—if indeed you are a Christian—have
submitted yourself to God, not in order to submit others to yourself. But, again, some may argue, that because of
my position of authority, in not submitting to me, to my plan, to my wisdom, to
my advice, to my decision, the disobedient one is actually not submitting to
God. OK then. So be it.
The disobedient one is not submitting to God, so let God deal with
them. Let God get angry, for if God does
experience anger (and it’s is not just a biblical anthropomorphism), then God’s
anger is without sin. Can you say that
of your anger?
Let us
submit ourselves to God and forsake anger and wrath, as Psalm 37: 8 advises
us. Then we will see a little more
clearly. Then we will listen a little
better. Then we will be able to take
more appropriate action, action motivated by pity and love, action that is more
likely to carry the grace of God and to bring healing. Otherwise, we will be blinded by our anger
and act in wrath, which almost always only makes matters worse.
By Fr. Michael Gillis
Source: https://blogs.ancientfaith.com/prayingintherain/2018/06/some-thoughts-on-anger/
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