Now, when I talk about the deadliness of anger, indignation, rage, wrath, going Rosie, whatever you want to call it . . . I’m not talking about the natural ebb and flow of our emotions. Heating up is not always evil and deadly.
For example: my wife’s Italian. She’s very passionate. She feels deeply about everything. If she sees a starving orphan from Africa on TV, she’s flying off to Namibia with a case of granola bars in tow to try to feed and then adopt the baby.
On the other hand, when I repeatedly pee on the toilet seat, go hunting for 22 weeks out of the year, smoke a cigar in her closet, leave dead bait in her SUV, or say the wrong thing while she’s trying on a dress—God help me! I had better run for my life, because the same passion she shows in saving a kid will manifest in attempting to sever my head (You’ve gotta love Italian women!). The cool thing about my hot wife is that these deep feelings don’t bring on disasters. Her justifiable anger at my antics does not end in my destruction.
Anger turns ugly when it latches onto to the will. Os Guinness says that, “Anger becomes a deadly sin . . . when the will is directly responsible for the rise and expression of the emotion.” Where the person starts going over to the dark side with anger is when the person (or party or religion) intentionally incites and directs unjust indignation to the end that his opponents are marked for destruction.
The classic over-correction to sinful anger is never getting PO’ed at anything any longer, which is sinfully Pollyanna-ish. Look, if something is evil, goofy, unjust, uncalled for and blatantly bogus, the sane person is supposed to get wound up. This type of understandable anger is not wrong—it is righteous. To not get ticked off when God and common sense calls you to is to assist wicked jack asses by sitting on your kum-ba-yah be-hind.
Where anger goes south is when it blows through the roadblocks of the love of God, the love of your neighbor and the good sense of your brain. When wrath hits this boiling point it is too powerful for the punk, party or people harboring such hatred, and it is here that the ramifications become rancid.