I pity a person I’ve never met.
I don’t know his—or her—real name; he or she uses the name DAL.
I don’t know if DAL professes faith in Jesus; I don’t know if DAL volunteers regularly, married his (or her) high school sweetheart, enjoys Papa John’s Pizza, or roots, roots, roots for the home team.
Unfortunately, I only know that DAL hates Donald Trump.
At least, almost anytime the news magazine World publishes an article about the former president, DAL comments.
Actually, DAL doesn’t just comment; DAL condemns. DAL unleashes a digital Noah’s flood of vitriol, cynicism and malice toward the man DAL refers to as, “an existential threat to our democracy/republic.”
However, I don’t write about DAL to necessarily defend Trump. I simply suspect that many other DALS populate this country—and its churches.
And I also too eagerly embrace the power of anger. I too have felt its rumbles threaten to erupt with volcanic fury.
And I too have—and do—occasionally indulged that volcano, only for its ash of bitterness to smother God’s love and blessings and choke my ability to rejoice.
And so I mourn for DAL and his (or her) delight in demolishing a fellow image bearer.
Jesus pities DAL too, but He also warns: “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder, and whoever murders will be in danger of the judgment.’ But I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.”
Likewise, the Apostle Paul tells the Colossians, “But now you yourselves are to put off all these: anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy language out of your mouth.” (Emphasis added). Furthermore, Paul tells the Ephesians, “Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice.”
But Paul didn’t pen mere hypothetical ideals. Paul arguably knew better than most that through God’s grace and Spirit, people can overcome their anger and “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you,” as Jesus commanded in Matthew 5:44.
After all, when the Bible introduces Paul, he is celebrating the death of an enemy, Stephen.
(I sometimes wonder how long Stephen hugged Paul when they first saw each other in Heaven).
But Christians who successfully overcome will first recognize the poison pooling in their souls; like any sin, they will confess to God, seeking forgiveness and cleansing through Jesus’ blood, and they will expose it to other Christians to hold themselves accountable.
And they will learn to discern between their anger and God’s anger.
Paul seemingly recognizes that Christians can feel righteous anger, and just as Jesus acted in righteous anger, Christians can and should respond to sin with anger as well.
But I think I can safely conclude that 99 percent of all online anger does not qualify as righteous.
Furthermore, Christians can use righteous anger as an excuse to respond with unrighteous wrath. I’ve too often noticed that Christians confront sin not because it offends God or hurts those who sin, but because it threatens Christians’ political and religious liberties.
And when Christians confront sin, I fear they won’t confront its spiritual roots and the spiritual powers behind it. They won’t try to patiently teach the sinners truth in hopes that “God perhaps will grant them repentance,” as Paul writes.
No, I fear Christians will exercise their wrath primarily, perhaps solely, to ensure that they maintain the political power necessary to keep their political liberties (which they often unequivocally equate with the freedom to worship).
Meanwhile, organizations like Voice of the Martyrs testify of Christians whose enemies have slaughtered their families and burned down their churches, and yet these Christians still ask American Christians to pray that these enemies would repent.
And in that spirit, I pray I will regularly pray for DAL; I will pray that the one who hopes Trump will rot in prison will escape the prison of anger.
I pray that he will one day pray for Trump.
