Hidden
Gems
10.
“The Other Sunset”
Ephesians 4:17-5:2
First Presbyterian Church
The Reverend Donald E. Ray
August 28, 2011
In the sermon about memories earlier in this summer
series, I spoke of a trip to
That evening, I lay on the slope of Goat Island
near the
Today’s gem, I call a ruby. A
ruby is red, the color we associate with anger. When
we are angry, we become red faced, our neck blotched as blood rushes to the
turmoil in our brain and emotions. The
ruby is naturally laced with imperfections requiring heat treatment and
polishing to produce the precious stone desired for our jewelry. We
associate heat with anger, heat that must burn off for tempers to cool and
stability be restored.
In his letter to the Ephesians, the author writes;
“Be angry, but do not sin; do not let
the sun go down on your anger.” (Ephesians 4:26) We
can but enjoy the sunset in the sky. The
diminishing illumination of the sun as it disappears beyond the horizon casts
its glow to reflect on the clouds spread across the sky. We
can do nothing to produce, even alter, that radiant effect.
The other sunset, however—the sunset of anger
that brews in us, precipitated by our reaction to the events and connections we
find distressing—we can and must manage and dissipate. John
in his Gospel quotes Jesus saying: “the
light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light
because their deeds were evil. For
all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds
may not be exposed.” (John 3:19-20) Be
it in the night of the earth’s rotation, or the blinding rage allowed to swell
out of proportion, anger allowed to steep and boil into that darkness turns
destructive.
Be
angry –it takes heat applied to the ruby to clarify its
imperfections; but do not sin; do not let
the sun go down on your anger. Anger
is an emotion, a feeling. I remember
persons who were older, or in positions superior to mine—teacher, boss, my
father at times-- reacting to my rising anger, “Don’t you get mad at me!”
That may have stifled its expression, but my anger was still there. It
is natural to feel anger when we have been mistreated or wronged. Attempts
to control anger by holding it in, suppressing the feeling, are unhealthy. Hold
the anger in when mistreated and one begins to feel like a victim. Suppress
the anger when feeling cheated of control and one feels insecure. Anger
held in amasses until in similar circumstances that anger explodes from those
previously stifled feelings.
Anger can be managed by taking a deep breath,
counting to ten, when that paves the way for the deliberate, appropriate
expression of anger. Before this
sermon slides into a psychology lesson, techniques for managing anger are
readily available as is help and support.
Be
angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.
Sunset is an appropriate metaphor
for managing anger. The hues and
tints of a sunset are a result of the waning light of the sun reflecting on
moisture in clouds made visible by dust and impurities trapped in the droplets. The
old adage, red sky at night, sailors delight, refers to the common west to east
movement of weather patterns. The
evening sun, reflecting on the clouds moving east, usually represents a clearing
pattern that follows. Meditative
practices call for periodic personal inventory throughout the day to allow for
the clearing and settling of our spirits. To
not let the sun go down on your anger is
to allow the clearing of our minds and feelings before our day closes into the
dark of night.
Like Tom’s frequent highlighting of the parable
of the Prodigal Son, I have no doubt previously made reference to Psalm 22. It
is a favorite that never ceases to amaze anytime I read it. As
I have sat with families when illness or tragedy has caused turmoil and pain in
their lives, I have often witnessed the resulting anger--anger at a God they
expect to protect from harm, maintain their good.
Psalm 22 opens with the anguished raging of the
poet:
My
God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why
are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O
my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
and
by night , but find no rest.
It
would seem then that the Psalmist takes a deep breath and recalls their history:
In
you our ancestors trusted;
They
trusted, and you delivered them.
Then
in touch with a root of his anger in his self-depreciation, he continues:
But
I am a worm, and not human;
scorned
by others, and despised by the people.
All
who see me mock at me;
Counting
to ten perhaps, the poet acknowledges the history of his own life in God from
his birth.
Yet
it was you who took me from the womb;
You
kept me safe on my mother’s breast.
Blaming
his current circumstances for his distress, the Psalmist goes on:
Many
bulls encircle me, strong bulls of
they
open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening
and
roaring lion.
I
am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint;
my
heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast;
my
mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue
sticks
to my jaws;
you
lay me in the dust of death.
Even
in the throes of his despairing, his anger dissipating, he turns again to God:
But
you, O Lord, be not far away!
O
my help, come quickly to my aid!
Deliver
my soul from the sword, my life from
the
power of the dog!
Save
me from the mouth of the lion!
From
the horns of the wild oxen you have rescued me.
I
will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters;
in
the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
You
who fear the Lord, praise him!
(Excerpts from Psalm 22:1-23)
Be
angry—The Psalmist is, angry at God; but he is not struck
by lightning. Angry, at God, the
poet does not sin; rather, it is as he cries out at God in his anger that his
faith in God is restored and his life renewed. I
think it no accident that the image of God in Psalm 23 following is of the
shepherd, near and caring, in the valley of the shadow of death; and not the
image of grim reaper.
Be
angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.
It gives a whole new import to
evening prayers. I grew up in an
atmosphere of stifling anger control. Allowing
its expression has been a learning curve. The
integrity of the praying Psalmist and prophets, open with God in their
disappointments and distress pave the way. When
I am angry, I express it in the situation at hand, to the persons involved when
appropriate. I journal, take late
evening walks, kick snow banks in winter.
Prayer—not formal, stilted, traditionally
religious, but, My God, my God, why have
you forsaken me? There is often
hesitancy in expressing anger because of a fear of it getting out of hand, of
recrimination. But anger that is
timely released doesn’t build up to become overwhelming. With
God in prayer that is honest, from our soul, is the safest place in all of the
world, in all of life, to be angry.
Be
angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.
Do not take it into the darkness of
the night where it can brew into bitterness, hatred and vengefulness.
In the wisdom of Dennis the Menace, “If we eat candy before we go to sleep, we’ll have sweet dreams.”
If we pour out the anger with its
hurt and disappointment and ill will, and feed on comfort and hope and
forgiving, we escape the sin that separates us from God.
Heat treatment to the raw ruby dissipates the
inclusions that mar its beauty, producing the polished, radiant gem. The
sun pours out its radiant heat through the day that wanes in the evening hours
of sunset. Taking the heat of anger
to our faith is the other sunset that paints life with beauty at the close of
day.
Amen.
Copyright
© 2011 by First Presbyterian Church