Friday night, I watched The Fellowship of the Ring, extended edition, for the first time in years. My friends have a big screen, and good sound, and the detail blew me away. But out of all the difficult moments in the film, out of all the heart-wrenching events, one of the ones that hurt me the most was the destruction of the trees of Isengard. Each time a tree fell, the blow slammed through my belly. As they pulled the trees over, as the roots stretched and snapped out of the ground, my entire body tensed and ached. Each broken root tore at part of me. I arced my back, as if my muscles could hold the trees' life. But they fell, one by one, crashing, breaking branches as they landed. And if I hadn't had a friend to hold me, I probably would have cried out in deep pain, over and over. Oh, it hurt!
Then today, I saw real trees killed. They tied the tops to a crane, so nothing fell, nothing crashed - just the crescendo of the chainsaw, and another tree piece floated away. But it hurt nonetheless.
But there wasn't anger this time, just sorrow. They were cutting down the trees to make room for construction - a sign of the college's growth. Saruman cut down his trees to fuel furnaces to make weapons and creatures of evil and destruction. And that made me angry. How could he? How dare he?!? Even knowing the story, anger welled up. How dare he destroy life in order to bring about more destruction?
I was never this angry before. When I first saw the movies - even when I first saw The Two Towers, with Treebeard's horrified response to Saruman's behaviour - I was not this angry. I was sorrowful, to be sure. I couldn't understand how Saruman could make the decisions he made. But I was not angry.
Now, I am. Very very angry. I felt it building a pressure inside of me, and an ache and an anger, that, if given the power, would make him stop. How dare someone destroy something beautiful and good to bring about destruction? How dare they? I feel like the only proper response to this is anger. Can anger, indeed, be righteous? I often wonder this, I with the violent yet quickly cooled temper. Is it possible for anger to be good?
This brings to mind the story of Jesus in the temple, the one I've heard so many times, how Jesus overturned the tables, and drove people out of the temple with a whip. See, I'm used to hearing that Jesus was angry here. And that this justifies a "righteous" anger. But I just looked it up, and it doesn't say that Jesus was angry. Perhaps he was - perhaps he wasn't.
Do the Gospels ever specifically say that Jesus was angry?
Once. Only once. And the context surprises me.
Mark 3:3-5
"Jesus said to the man with the shriveled hand, 'Stand up in front of everyone.' Then Jesus asked them, 'Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?' But they remained silent.
He looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts, said to the man, 'Stretch out your hand.' He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored."
Jesus was angry because they were silent in the face of his question. They gave no answer. Which is lawful, to do good or to do evil? Which is lawful, to save life or kill? And they were silent.
This almost knocks me over.
This is huge. This is much bigger than my anger with Saruman for destroying the trees of Isengard. Jesus' anger is stirred by the silence and indifference of those who should know better. They should have known that good is better than evil. They should have known the saving life is better than killing. And yet. They wouldn't answer.
Why was Treebeard's anger stirred against Saruman? Not simply because someone had destroyed the trees, but because "A wizard should know better!"
Why was Jesus' anger stirred against the Pharisees? Because they should have known better!
I have every reason to be angry with Saruman, and to be hurt, deeply, with every effort to further evil and death.
This makes me wonder: am I angry enough?
Looking at the world today, at people today, at the ambivalence lurking and spreading everywhere - we live in a place where anything is acceptable. When people pursue evil, and destruction, and killing, we - I - sit back and merely say we wish they wouldn't do such things. WHAT?! "Oh, I wish that person weren't killing so many." Seriously? Is that all the response I have? Is that all the response we have? Where's the anger?
Because, honestly, I should be angry.
Yup. I just said it. And I think I mean it. Sometimes, I should be angry.
Maybe not when I'm watching a fictional movie. Maybe not when they're cutting down trees for construction. But maybe, sometimes it's good to be angry.
May God grant me the discernment to see when I should be angry, and the wisdom to know what then I should do.
3 comments:
Yes. We should be angry. I think anger in the sight of injustice is a special kind of compassion - a feeling with those who are treated unjustly. And to do justice, we must be compassionate. I really appreciate how you are making me think, Suzanne.
O if we but knew what we do
When we delve or hew—
Hack and rack the growing green!
Since country is so tender
To touch, her being só slender,
That, like this sleek and seeing ball
But a prick will make no eye at all,
Where we, even where we mean
To mend her we end her,
When we hew or delve:
After-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
I agree, Hilary.
Yes, thank you, Suzanne.
thoughts:
Jesus' anger in this situation was mixed with deep distress. it was not rage.
and why? they were stubborn, not willing to face or admit the lesser truth, because they were not willing to accept Him. ("looking for a reason to accuse...")
look at Jesus' response to His own anger.
He healed.
also remember James 1.19,20. (though I think what would really shed most light on the appropriateness, identification, and use or rejection of all things that we call "anger" would be a deep word study from original languages, that touches on all related words & passages, not just where the NIV translates as "anger". it's more complex than we realize, and, unfortunately, beyond most of our scopes.)
~D.
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