“Above everything else, guard your heart, for all you do comes from it” (Proverbs 4:23).
Anger is a gift from God, did you know that? It’s intentionally installed in us as a response to an intolerable situation. It drives our strongest rejection of unclean and detestable thoughts, of abuse that’s become normalized, of perversion of justice.
But anger is meant to have its work, to drive action, and then to be put away. “In your anger do not sin; do not let the sun go down while you are angry” (Ephesians 4:26). Adrenaline and cortisol in your blood, and rage and fury in your thoughts, are corrosive to your health and to your relationships.
So don’t be afraid when the news sparks anger, hurt, and an impulse to act. By all means, seek wisdom and act. Defend the weak and bind the hands of the violent. But do not live in that place. If your gut seethes with helpless fury and betrayal day after day, the enemy destroys you without your helping anyone.
Now is a season when our children and family and neighbors need someone to demonstrate steadfastness. That’s not the shallow peace that says all is fine; it’s the peace that says I’ve found a rock and I’m standing here and will not be moved. I haven’t got any wisdom for statesmen or peace officers but I have a little place of shelter you can share. Can we be that eye-of-the-storm safe place for ourselves and for them?
About 500AD, Diadokos of Photiki wrote this, and I keep coming back to it:
Those who are engaged in spiritual warfare must always keep their hearts tranquil. Only then can the mind sift the impulses it receives and store in the treasure house of the memory those that are good and come from God, while rejecting altogether those that are perverse and devilish. When the sea is calm, the fisherman’s eyes can see the movements of the fish deep down, so that hardly any of them can escape. But when the sea is ruffled by the wind, the turmoil of the waves hides from sight the creatures that would easily have been seen if the sea wore the smile of calm. The skill of the fisherman is of little use in rough weather.
Something of the same sort happens with the soul, especially when it is stirred to the depths by anger. At the beginning of a storm, oil is poured on the waters to calm them, and in fact the oil defeats their commotion. In this way, when the soul receives the anointing of the gift of the Holy Spirit, it gladly gives in to this inexpressible and untroubled sweetness. And even if it is continually attacked by temptation it maintains its peace and joy.
— St. Diadochos, Spiritual Works, 23
