Rabbi Evan Moffic

Chicago Sinai Congregation

June 15, 2007

 

Several years ago, I was a camp counselor discussing some camper problems with the director, and he said something I have never forgotten. He said “There is no right or wrong; only consequences.” Now I don’t agree with this statement wholeheartedly. Certain things are right or wrong, even if they are done in secret and therefore do not have foreseeable consequences. But his statement does apply, I think, to emotions, to feelings we have. Certain feelings are not right or wrong. The way we evaluate them depends on their consequences. Take fear, for example. Sometimes fear is harmful—I think, for example, of people afraid to leave their home or drive their car. But sometimes fear is helpful. If you are afraid that your friend has had too much to drink and you do not want to get in a car with him, your fear has helped you. Or if you are afraid you will get caught cheating and therefore you don’t, I’d say that’s a good thing. The same is true of anger. Anger, at times, can be a helpful emotion. It was African Americans angry with the way they had been treated who inspired and led the civil rights movement. The Biblical Prophets—Amos, Isaiah, Jeremiah—were angry at the way the poor, the widow and the orphan were treated. Their anger was constructive.

 

Yet, perhaps more often than not, anger is destructive. Each of us has probably been in a situation where someone we know lost their temper and exploded over some small thing or another. The consequences were probably a) we looked at them a bit differently, surprised at the depth of anger, and b) their rage was not helpful in getting what they desired. The first century Roman historian and philosopher Plutarch pointed this out in an essay he wrote entitled “On the Control of Anger: “We who tame wild beasts and make them gentle…under the impulse of rage cast off children, friends and companions, let loose our wrath, like some wild beast, on servants and fellow citizens.”

 

We have a rather complicated instance of destructive anger in this week’s Torah reading. An important Israelite leader named Korach is angry with Moses. He sees Moses as a dictator, exerting unjust authority over the people. Along with several supporters, Korach challenges Moses: He says to him, “You have gone too far!... Why do you raise yourself above God’s people?” Moses pleas with Korach’s supporters, telling them that he does not seek power for himself. He is simply doing God’s will. This only intensifies their rage. “Is it not enough,” they ask, “that you brought us from a land flowing with milk and honey to have us die in the wilderness, that you would also lord it over us? Even if you had brought us to a land flowing with milk and honey, and given us possession of fields and vineyards, should you gouge out those men's eyes?” Moses then tells the Korach, his family and his followers to gather at the tent of meeting. They are instantly swallowed into the earth. On the next day, when Korach’s followers express their anger to Moses, a plague strikes the people, killing 14,000 more of them.

 

If we step back and look at what happened, we see the consequences of uncontrolled anger. In his rage and confrontation, Korach sparked only death and destruction. And Moses himself had little patience for negotiation. Of course, the text indicates that Moses was simply doing God’s bidding. Yet, we know that Moses had a fiery temper. He shattered the tablets of the Ten Commandments when he saw the golden calf. In another instance, he struck a rock to produce water, rather than speak to it, as God had instructed. This was a problem because it indicated to the people that Moses had divine powers, whereas he was simply God’s instrument and should have made that clear. The sages tell us that it was on account of his impulsive temper that Moses was not permitted to enter the Promised Land. With Korach and with Moses, their anger becomes self-destructive.

 

I don’t think we can really prevent feelings of anger. Except in, say, extraordinary people like Gandhi, anger is natural. It is likely a consequence of evolution, serving as a survival mechanism that helped our ancestors defend themselves. The relevant question for us is what can we do control our anger? To prevent it from becoming destructive and hurtful, and to channel it into productive work…

 

Jewish wisdom can be quite instructive. In one of the sayings in the Pirke Avot, Ethics of the Fathers (2:10). Rabbi Eliezer says: “Let your friend’s honor be as dear to you as your own, do not be easily angered, and repent one day before you die.” That means repent every day, lest tomorrow be the day you die. These statements are interconnected. If your friend’s honor is dear to you, you will respect him by not insulting or exploding at him in rage. In other words, respect for others is a way of checking anger. And the last statement, “repent one day before you die.” That is a call for putting things in perspective. If each of us is aware that we might die tomorrow, we won’t explode over petty things. (Telushkin, Code of Jewish Ethics, 265) Thus, respecting others and looking at our lives from a broad perspective help us control feelings of anger.

 

A second suggestion is to prevent legitimate anger from becoming personal. As Rabbi Joseph Telushkin puts it, “No matter how upset you are, restrict the expression of your anger to the incident that provoked it…As long as we keep our words focused on the one incident, we are unlikely to say anything that will destroy a relationship.” What Telushkin is getting at, I think, is our tendency to take out our anger out on others. In fact, we often direct our angers at the wrong source. If we’ve had a hard day at work, we might take it out on our spouse. If we’re having problems at home, we might take it out on our staff. Or let’s take a more prosaic example. We make a reservation at a restaurant. When we arrive, we have to wait an hour for a table. We might become quite angry at the host or hostess. When we finally sit down, we may even take it out on the waitress. But each of us probably knows that it’s likely neither person’s fault. We have expressed our anger at the restaurant’s inefficient system on a person whose job is to seat us or to serve our meals. Directing anger at its proper source can prevent it from becoming destructive.

 

Another important way to avoid impulsive anger is finding a mild and wise confidante. Once again, Pirke Avot instructs each of us “to find for ourselves a teacher; and make for a ourselves a friend.” If we get angry at something someone said to us,  such a friend might say, “Oh, so and so said that to you. Perhaps he didn’t mean it in the way you think.” The least helpful friend—one we should avoid in these instances—is the person who would be one makes matters worse, the person who says “He said that! I can’t believe it. What are you going to do about it?” To check our impulsive impulses, we need the former, not the latter.

 

A final piece of Jewish wisdom paraphrases a well-known saying: Before responding to something or someone that makes us angry, we should sleep on it. If at all possible, we should give ourselves time to reflect before making saying something rash or harmful. A rabbinic sage writes that whenever he became enraged, he would check into the Shulchan Aruch, the massive 16th century Jewish legal code, to see whether he had the right to be angry in such a circumstance. Not surprisingly, he found that going to his library, taking down the book, and checking it through calmed him down. Each of us can cultivate techniques to calm us down: go for a run or a drive, talk to a friend, watch a movie. The way we then respond to the situation will likely be more thoughtful and productive.

 

Moses and Korach let anger dissolve into impulsive confrontation. Let us learn from their failure. May each of us strive for the empathy, the self-knowledge, the mentors and the wisdom to transform those feelings of hurtful anger into righteous and thoughtful enthusiasm. Amen,