Deathly Anger

The Ninth Sunday After Trinity

And, "Jesus said, A certain man had two sons, and the younger of them said to his Father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after, the younger Son gathered all together and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living."

So begins the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It is the finest piece of literature ever written. I want you to consider how much poorer this world, our culture, and especially the human experience would have been if this beautiful revelation of a God and Father who abounds with such grace, love, and mercy never existed. This narrative, infused into our fallen world with twists and turns, heartbreaks and regrets, separations and sadness, has deeply impacted our lives. Conceive of a world without such mercy, where forgiveness and reconciliation were unimaginable. God only knows, my friends, what such a world would be if this beautiful story had never been. How the eyes of the world would have been robbed of Rembrandt's masterpiece (bulletin cover), which depicts with such genius and beauty the very essence of our Lord's parable, the very heart of God, our Father who rejoices at the return of every prodigal and receives them into the arms of mercy and love.

Only the coldest heart remains unmoved by the depth of forgiveness embodied in the father who, day by day, stands facing that far country, searching the horizon for a lost son. We easily read ourselves into the story, which reveals the genius and power of our Lord’s parable. At times, we are the wayward prodigal. At others, the longing father or mother desperate for a child's return. The story resonates deep in the soul because every person (at some point) has been led to that far country by gluttony, lust, and harmful desires. We know how living estranged from love, goodness, and home feels. And sometimes, the immensity of our sin convinces us that we're beyond forgiveness, beyond reconciliation. Staring into the swine trough, we believe the whispering lie that "We can never go back home." The damage is done. What's been done is irreversible. The irrationality of sin concludes that exile is our only rational existence.

Though lust for this world and excess of insatiable appetites lead people far away from the Father, love (Divine Love) never gives up, always hopes, and stands ready to forgive. Maybe you need to hear this today—perhaps this is why you were drawn to the presence of the Father, who rejoices in heaven when sinners repent, sets a lavish table, and throws a feast when prodigals come home. That's the heart of Jesus' parable, and that's why the story of the Prodigal Son can pierce the hardest of hearts. It resonates with us, no matter who you are or what you believe. The memory of estrangement lingers within. The memory of Eden's exile resides within the children of Eve, and deep down inside, we long for what was lost and so desperately wish we could be with our Father again.

The good news is that the wayward can be reconciled to God in Christ. Through the Son, we receive forgiveness of sins and are restored to the household of the Father. This is the Gospel, my friends, the good news that Jesus wants us to receive. But he wants to warn us as well against the danger of lust and anger, which we find embodied in the two brothers. The youngest is consumed by lust, which leads to a life of sinful prodigality, a frivolous and careless spending of himself in in sin. And the older brother, whose extravagant and excessive anger hardens his heart to the point of hating mercy and killing joy. The older brother, friends, is our Lord's warning against the vice of anger that arises in reaction to the love and grace of God.

Anger is a very deadly sin. Such was the assessment of the early desert Fathers, the early Christian monastics. Evagrius Ponticus (4th Century monk) says, "Anger is the fiercest passion... boiling and stirring up of wrath against one who has given injury or is thought to have done so" (Paratikos. 11). A perceived injustice lies at the very center of unholy anger. What injustice was perpetrated against the older brother and Son of the Father? I ask you, how was he wronged? And yet, in his eyes, he was struck a great blow when his father received his wayward brother without discipline or consequence. He seethed at the thought of his Father running towards the reprobate, seizing and kissing him. Injustice number one: "Why is my father embracing him when he has done nothing to deserve my father's love and not me, who has done everything right?"

Then, the father instructs the servants to dress the prodigal in the finest clothing, to place sandals on his bare and worn feet, which were a symbol of wealth, and to put a ring on his finger as a sign of status and the prodigal restored family membership. "Why reward this sinner by giving him costly and precious things when all he did was squander everything he had and bring disrepute upon our house?" Injustice number two: he has stolen the robe, the expensive sandals, and the majestic ring that rightly should be mine- he is a thief of the worst order and has robbed me of such precious things."

And to add insult to such hurtful injustice, the Father calls for a feast, a grand celebration in honor of his Son's return. They will sacrifice the fatted calf, which in Jesus' day was eaten on holy days such as the day of atonement (1 Sam 28:24), the finest beast prepared and feasted upon with great significance. "Why on earth are we honoring this fool with a high feast celebrated with the most valuable animal we have?" Injustice number three: A most worthy occasion for such an unworthy, yet my father has never given so much as a kid to make merry with my friends. "Am I not more worthy than my brother? Does my Father love me so little?"

Here, we have arrived at the true nature of anger, which kills. If we're honest, the injustice we perceive to cause us to sin in anger isn't ultimately directed at the source of our injury. The older brother wasn't mad at the younger brother's return; this wasn't the offense. Rather, his anger and wrath were directed at his father, whom he believed was the responsible party. What underlies our anger towards others, the world, or circumstances is a sinful and dangerous anger towards God.

We might not see it at first, but it proves true upon closer inspection. God is the perpetrator; he's the one who allowed this or that or gave what was rightfully ours to someone else (someone less deserving). This kind of anger produces excessive wrath towards others because returning the injury to those we can see is far easier. All the while, we're really attacking God, trying to pay him back, hurt him for him allowing us to be hurt. This is why sinful anger first manifests in distancing itself from our heavenly Father.

Returning to Jesus' parable, where is the older son when the party begins? He's in the field. Now, he is the one far away from home. He approaches the house, hearing music and dancing, but he doesn't go in. He stays outside and asks one of the servants what these things mean—but how can he not know what they mean after his Father's earlier proclamation and preparations for a feast? Yet he stays outside and won't enter his own home. Because he's angry, Luke says, he would not go in. Anger has worked between son and father, brother and brother, family and friends.

And why is the older brother angry? Because his father has received a wayward son and killed the fatted calf, for his son "was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." This sin of anger that kills the soul misunderstands God's mercy, forgiveness, and love to be a zero-sum game. He squanders his mercy on the less deserving, leaving nothing for those who deserve it. Either God is reckless and irresponsible, or he simply doesn't care about me and my needs for his attention and care. Stewing in such bitterness breeds envy and violence towards the objects of God's love.

Consider the sad and murderous events surrounding Cane and Able. Cane was angry at God and killed his brother. And we begin to look a lot like Cane when God's goodness towards another person, even undeserving sinners, makes us rage towards heaven and become angry with our Father and run off to that far country, away from him who loves us, who is ever with us. All he has is ours, and yet how quickly we squander this relationship when overcome by sinful anger.

Anger interferes with our prayers and prevents us from drawing near to God. If not repented of and healed, such anger "darkens the soul" and defiles the mind. We no longer think rightly about Jesus nor love him as we should. Then, swayed by such warped understanding, we stop worshipping our Father in heaven. "Why would I ever draw near and praise the One who injured me? Why offer myself to He, who obviously has no concern? Such is the road bitterness and unreconciled anger with God leads us on. If Jesus doesn't allow the gift of our prayers to be offered to him if our brother or sister has something against us or we are against them, then how vital is our anger with God to be reconciled if we desire to live and not perish in our anger.

Beloved, each time the Lord allows us to see his grace in action, his mercy lavishly poured upon a repentant sinner, is an opportunity for us to celebrate and make merry! Because it should recall the rich mercy we have received in the Lord Jesus Christ from our Father, whose patience knows no end! Friends, Jesus speaks loudly and clearly today: Do not allow God's grace and mercy toward another to cause you to become angry. Do not harden your hearts when sinners repent and are received by God. Do not let the sun go down on your anger and give no opportunity to the devil (Eph 4:24) to steal the joy of your salvation and the remembrance of God's love towards you, given through His Son Jesus Christ, the fatted calf killed for the life of the world; and the very means by which every wayward sinner returns home. Amen+