67: God Can Handle Our Anger

In 1968, the beloved Fred Rogers wrote a song called, “What Do You Do With the Mad That You Feel?” The song was written for children who might be angry and tempted to take out that anger in unhealthy and unhelpful ways. Though it was a children’s song, it became somewhat revolutionary because it named the fact that sometimes, we get angry, and that anger isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s what we do with the anger that matters, and I think that was part of what Mr. Rogers was trying to communicate. He helped us pay attention to the mad that we sometimes feel.

It can be easy to feel anger toward certain people, toward systems, toward sin. That’s part of being human. Calm, gentle, friendly Mr. Rogers shared some of the things that made him angry. And throughout Scripture, we even see Jesus experience righteous anger toward many things. Anger isn’t wrong. But something I’ve been wrestling with recently—and that some of you have shared you wrestle with, too—is not so much what to do with the mad we feel toward others, but what to do with the mad we might feel toward God. Is it even okay to admit we sometimes feel that way?

What do we do when we are angry at God? When our faith and our anger collide? When prayers seemingly go unanswered, when illness isn’t healed, when suffering lingers, when circumstances don’t change?

I think there are a couple different ways we tend to respond. We might sweep it under the rug and stuff it down, perhaps out of guilt, because how dare we approach God in anger? Isn’t God meant to receive our adoration, our gratitude, our trust? Instead of being honest with God, we try to hide our anger because we don’t know what to do with it or where it fits into our faith. We believe being on our best behavior is probably our best bet, so we mask how we really feel.

Or maybe we let it take over. We let the anger fester and grow to the point where we don’t want anything to do with God and we walk away altogether. We aren’t sure we can follow God and be angry at God at the same time. 

While I have experienced both to a certain extent, I don’t know that either are what is best. And I wonder if there could be a third way.

Writer, activist, and holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel lived through and experienced the worst of the worst. Pain and horror that for most of us is unimaginable. In an attempt to explain the intersection of his faith and anger, Elie once wrote, 

“I have not lost faith in God. I have moments of anger and protest. Sometimes I’ve been closer to him for that reason.”

What if our anger actually creates space for us to draw closer to the heart of God, rather than away from it? What if anger has the potential to deepen our faith and not weaken it? 

It turns out, anger toward God is not new. God’s people have experienced this for generations. We see this in the psalms; about a third of them are psalms of lament - filled with anger, grief, frustration, discouragement. In fact, while hanging on the cross, Jesus quotes from one of them, Psalm 22: 

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
    Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
    and by night, but find no rest.”

Part of what this shows us is that God can handle our anger, probably better than we can. I don’t know about you, but I find great comfort in that. And I find great relief knowing that God can not only handle it, but maybe even welcomes it. Because our anger is honest and God values our honesty. The truth is, God already knows when we are angry. So we don’t have to hide it and we don’t have to completely indulge it. We can just be honest about it before God. 

And the good news is that God doesn’t leave us in our anger; God transforms it. One beautiful thing about the psalms of lament is that while they are often inspired by anger at the beginning, by the end the psalmist is often worshipping God. From beginning to end, the psalmist goes through this process of moving from anger to worship. And I wonder if that is because, in a way, working through their honest anger helps them remember who God is. Maybe they remember that God is not out to get them or behind the suffering they face. Maybe they remember that God is not far off, but is right there with them in the middle of it all. 

I’m learning that the same can be true for us. It might not happen all at once; it’s easy to read a psalm or scripture passage and feel like it’s supposed to happen overnight. It probably won’t. After all, transformation takes time. But we can trust God’s faithfulness in the process.

At one point last year, I was really angry at God. I’m normally someone who avoids praying for specific things or outcomes; there are layers of reasons for that. But at some point, I felt led to switch things up. So I ended up praying a very specific prayer for what felt like an eternity, and one day last year it became clear that the answer to that prayer was going to be no. I was crushed. And I was angry. 

For awhile, I let myself be honest and angry at God. Lots of silence. Many rants. And while I can’t quite articulate the whole process, after some time, I found I was no longer angry at God, but angry with God. And there was a difference. I felt God’s comfort and presence with me in my disappointment and grief. And we hung out there for a bit, together.

And after some more time had passed, that’s when I saw the sunset. We were at the beach and I found myself alone on the porch, watching the sun go down. I can’t fully explain it, but in those few minutes, I felt God saying, “It’s going to be okay.” Over and over again. As I watched the sky transform from brush strokes of bright gold to rich lava to soft cotton candy right before my eyes and as I heard that refrain repeating, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. “It’s going to be okay.”

In Ephesians 4, we’re instructed to not let the sun go down while we are angry. Well, on this particular evening, my anger seemed to set with the sun. 

After a few months of working through my anger with God, that evening, I was able to let it go. That’s not to say I’ll never be angry again or that life is suddenly perfect. But is to say I’m learning I can trust God with my anger. I am learning that there is beauty in turning toward God, rather than away.

Today, if you are angry at God, remember, God can handle our anger. God can even transform it. May we choose to be honest as we continue to learn to trust God—even in our anger—as we seek to be the people God calls us to be.