Letting Go of Anger

“Art consists of limitation. The most beautiful part of every picture is the frame.”

This is an interesting quote by English author G.K. Chesterton. It suggests that art is defined by its boundaries. You may agree with the quote or not, I’m still not sure if I do, but it does suggest the importance of the frame in enhancing, changing or at the very least affecting how you experience the art it surrounds. That notion, I do agree with. I have pieces of art hanging on the walls in my home that I experience completely differently after having them framed.

And this notion of how framing changes art, also works in film and storytelling. How many of us have watched a film for the second time and had a completely new experience because knowing the whole of the story changes the frame? Knowing the plot changes how you view each character, each encounter, each action. Who didn’t go back and watch The Sixth Sense after learning Bruce Willis was dead the whole time?! Or gone back and watched Ed Norton much more closely in the second viewing of Primal Fear? Or watched Psycho and saw that closing scene with the man running around in his momma’s nightgown and had to go back and see it again with renewed attention on the interactions between Janet Leigh and Anthony Perkins. Our knowledge changes our frame and the new frame creates a totally new way in how we experience art and film and stories.

This reality is even true of the stories in the Bible. Our depth of knowledge changes how we hear and experience the stories we read from our sacred texts. You may not remember because you may have been very young, but try to think about the first time you heard the story of Good Friday. The Passion Narrative is always difficult to revisit, but it’s a different experience to read it every year when you know the Resurrection is coming shortly. A few years ago when my middle child was 3, I have a video of her talking about Good Friday and she was really hung up on how the soldiers hit and spit on Jesus and took his clothes. When I asked her, “And then what happened?,” I couldn’t quite get her on to the surprise of the empty tomb and the resurrection celebration. She was really upset about hitting and spitting, which in fairness are things that we do spend a lot of time telling 3 year-olds not to do. Now that all of my girls understand the joyous Easter celebration as a reminder that Jesus overcame death, the Good Friday narrative seems to be just slightly less horrifying.

And what about our parable today? It’s a familiar one. The story of the Prodigal Son. Have you ever thought about how even the way we name this story told my Jesus affects how we hear it and understand it? It draws our attention to a certain part of the story, and frames how we should see this reunion. What if we called it something different? What if this was the “Parable of the Screw Up Son?” What about the “Parable of the Jealous, Golden Boy?” Or maybe the “Parable of the Bereaved Father?” How we frame the story changes where we focus in and what we see.

During these weeks of Lent, the folks at my church has focused on the theme of “letting go” in the midst of a world that seems to scream for us to tighten our grips and hold on for dear life. We have talked about what gifts might come to us if we dare to let go of things that are not serving us well in our lives of discipleship. We have looked at letting go as part of dwelling in this season. We have talked about letting go of of doubt. We have considered letting go of complacency. And with this text, we are going to look at letting go of anger.

Now you may be thinking, “Anger? That’s a different frame for this Parable!” Normally we talk about themes of forgiveness, contrition and jealousy when we look at the Parable of the Prodigal Son. But let’s go with it – The Parable of the Angry Sons.

One thing to note in this narrative is that the son asking for his inheritance and leaving to go do his own thing would have been pretty atypical for this time. Much like now, often an inheritance comes when a parent dies. It’s not the normal way things work for the younger son, which often is the less favorable position to be when compared to a first born, to come to his father and say that he wants what is coming to him when his father dies NOW, so that he can leave the family and do life on his own. One way to think about this part of the parable is that this son was angry. Why? We don’t know. But to demand your inheritance early, pack up your belongings and travel away to a distant land to start a new life suggests this son was angry about something. It’s like he wanted to cut himself off from his family – settle the financial piece early and move so far away that they would no longer be in relationship.  

As the story says, things don’t go so well for this younger son. He blows through his money and ends up a vulnerable laborer, a field hand. And he has nothing. The story suggests that maybe he wasn’t paid for his labor and he’s on the verge of eating the scraps for the pigs he has been charged with caring for. Life had gotten so bad that he decides that going back to his father and begging to be one of his hired hands is a better life than the one he has at this point. And so he goes home to beg for mercy.

When we see how the father responds, it is a helpful reminder to us that anger is not the strongest emotion. This father’s grief over the loss of his son was stronger than any anger he felt. This father’s love for his son who had cut him out of his life is stronger than any anger he felt at the insult of being asked to give him his inheritance prematurely. If the father was angry, if anger was in the mix of emotions, it was not the one that rose to the top. It's not the emotion that usually wins the day in humanity if other, stronger emotions are in play.

But then a new anger is introduced into the story. The older son. In his haste to welcome back the younger son who has returned the father says, “Go get the best robe, go get a ring and put it on his finger, and sandals on his feet. And never mind that there is a famine, go get the best thing we have to eat and prepare it in celebration of my son who has returned.” And just like a 90s rap song, the older son says, “Hold up, wait a minute.” Now remember, the younger son, in his anger has already gotten his share of all the property, all the things that he had coming to him. So all these things – the best robe, the rings, the sandals, the best animal to eat - those technically belong to him (when his dad dies). That’s his inheritance being given to this younger son who already said, “Give me mine and I’m out!” Whereas this son stayed. Was loyal. Did his duty. Wouldn’t that make anyone angry? Hear his words to his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!”

The father reminds his son that for him, he had been grieving his brother as dead. The anger that lead to his departure and their separation had made it as through his son were dead. No contact. No relationship. For this father, regardless of the details, his son was dead, and now he’s there – in front of him, talking to him, sleeping in his house again. Think about it folks, have you ever wished you could have someone back from the dead? Even someone with whom you had a complicated relationship where anger was one of the dynamics? Have you ever missed someone so much you would give anything to have them back from the dead? By pushing the anger to the side, the framing of this story shifts to one of joyous reunion, reconciliation and renewed relationship. At the end of the day stuff is just stuff. Property and belongings are so insignificant when compared to relationships. When compared to family. When compared to love.  

What joyous and love-filled experiences might we open ourselves up to if we are able to let go of anger in our own lives? Anger has a purpose. And we all have anger. It’s not a sinful or useless emotion. Studies show that anger, in moderation, can move us to action, and can help us focus in and complete tasks. Anger can help compel us to communicate something that is important or something that we need. But prolonged anger, or anger that takes up too much space in our minds and hearts for too much time, has negative effects on our relationships and on our health and wellbeing.

So I ask you to take some time during this Lenten Season and reflect on anger in your life. There’s a lot to be angry about in the world right now - in US politics, in the city of Memphis, and there’s always our own interpersonal and familial conflicts that can be wellsprings of anger. Let’s ask ourselves: is anger a part of who we are and what we feel, or is the frame of our lives, or the frame of a particular relationship to someone or something?

The way of Jesus is one that frames our lives as disciples with Love, with Justice, and with Mercy. Not with anger. What might be revealed to us if we let go of anger that is not serving us well in our lives as followers of Jesus?

Let’s find out together.

And all of God’s people who could said, Amen.