Anger.

I've been thinking today a lot about anger. Because I am angry at someone. Not pettily, not irritated, not looking for someone to blame for my issues, but genuinely and (i think) righteously angry. And I saw him earlier and started thinking about the nature of anger, the nature of our society, the nature of God, and where that all should meet.

It used to be nearly a virtue, I think-- a right reaction to very wrong circumstances that drove men to defense and action. You see it some when men find their wives being abused by another man or when people get worked into fury over issues of injustice or poverty. But I still think that we don't see it much, anymore, and I don't even know if I've ever known how to be it. I always get stuck in the "I should forgive" train of thought, but it's Jesus I learned that from and He certainly got angry; the phrase "wrath of God" didn't come from nowhere. That, or I get stuck in pity-- in "putting myself in the other person's shoes." I can't say harsh things because if someone said them to me, I would be hurt. Or I would feel bad about myself. But I just realized-- literally, like 10 minutes ago-- that "put yourself in their shoes" isn't a Biblical mandate; it's a mantra from preschool, and it comes with a heavy flaw: namely, that if I were in their shoes, things would be a hell of a lot different because it would be me and not them, and in this particular situation I would act a whoooole lot differently. There are, so to speak, no shoes to put on.

It isn't generally acceptable in Christian circles to be really angry, I don't think. Neither is it in societal circles, for totally different reasons; and we ourselves probably rarely experience genuine anger and rarely want to because it is so unpleasant. People get pissed a lot, or angry and bitter in general, inside-- but I'm talking about justified fury, here. That, you don't see much. That's what I'm wondering about.

In That Hideous Strength, C.S. Lewis wrote of a man who encounters another who is very rightly angered over something the man has been a part of:

It may seem strange to say that Mark, having long lived in a world without charity, had nevertheless very seldom met real anger. Malice in plenty he had encountered, but it all operated in snubs and sneers and stabbing in the back. The forehead and eyes and voice of this elderly man had an effect on him which was stifling and unnerving. He had hitherto referred to those in opposition to what he was a part of as whining and yapping; he had never had enough imagination to realize what the "whining" would be like if you met it face to face.

Yes. Real anger we very seldom meet. Consequently, I don't know what to do with it. Certainly, fantasizing about all of the things I would like to say or do during prayer time at church is not the answer. But what is? What do I do with that unfurling of "pity" in my gut when I'm given opportunity to act, and what is acceptable action? How do I deal with the boiling blood and the seeing red and the desire that somebody understand the consequences of his actions, today? I don't know.  I just keep telling the Lord I am angry and hoping for some kind of wisdom about what to do with it.

Thoughts?