Latin Root: Ira– anger, rage, hatred
Gilligan’s Island character: The Skipper
Traditional Corresponding Virtue: Patience/Forgiveness

In Dante’s Divine Comedy, the seven-tiered mountain of Purgatory offered cleansing rituals based around each of the seven deadly sins. The slothful had to run vigorously, the gluttonous had to fast, the greedy had to push around large boulders symbolic of earthly possessions, and so on. When Dante entered the terrace for the cleansing of wrath, he found it covered in a dense smoky fog, and I can’t think of a better symbol for wrath’s effect on the spirit.

Far from being simple anger or frustration, wrath is a blinding fury which persists (or even intensifies) over time. Getting angry is not a sin in and of itself; in fact, the Bible repeatedly makes statements like “In your anger do not sin” or “Do not let the sun go down on your anger,” implying the real danger is not so much getting angry but staying angry. How you act on your anger or refuse to release it may lead you down some pretty dark paths— grudges, gossip, violence, and many other perils.

There’s a fine line between having anger and anger having you,
and wrath is the latter.

It’s a little uncanny how often I encounter the issue of anger and forgiveness in chaplaincy. Whether I’m sitting on a barstool with someone or squatting beside a hospital bed, it seems everyone I meet (myself included) has a gift for holding grudges. Our minds excel at tucking away others’ indiscretions for later rumination, and this works against us as we try to forgive.

It’s easy to say I forgive someone,
but then I find my thoughts wandering back to the offense months later,
which leads to my needing to forgive the offender all over again,
which leads to my getting angry at myself for hanging onto the grudge,
which means I now have to forgive myself for not forgiving,
which makes me think back to the original offense again,
and the whole messy cycle keeps going.

After spending an extended period in such a cycle of wrath and forgiveness, I learned to stop saying, “I have forgiven…,” and to substitute, “I am forgiving…” Making the phrase present tense gives me a little grace for when old grudges might bubble up again and need to be quelled. As I often say to my patients, “Forgiveness is a process, and if you want to forgive and really mean it, it may take a little time. Only God can forgive and forget; we may have to settle for forgiving and then forgiving again and then always forgiving.”

Being in the process of forgiving someone leaves room for gratitude, compassion, and all sorts of other emotions which push out wrath. Forgiveness hones patience and pushes back the clouds of wrath, but as with all things worth doing, it takes time.

Questions for Reflection:
What kinds of things make you angry?
Can you think of a time where your anger fermented into wrath?
Who do you need to forgive?