For much of my Jewish education, my teachers had inculcated me with a fear of anger. I was taught that, unlike other character traits and emotions, anger is the only attribute that should not exist in moderation. It shouldn’t exist at all. “Anyone who gets angry—all of Gehinnom (Hell) holds sway over him,” teaches the Talmud, the central text of Rabbinic Judaism.1 Nachmanides, a Jewish medieval thinker, states that “anger is a bad attribute that causes man to sin.”2 For years, whenever I was angry, I felt guilt as well, often turning the anger inwards.
Therefore, America’s changing discourse on women’s anger felt liberating to me as I learned to subvert the values of my upbringing. In 2018 alone, at least three books were published on women’s anger, including, Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger by Rebecca Traister, Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women’s Anger by Soraya Chemaly, and Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Brittney C. Cooper. I saw example after example of ways anger empowered women to bring justice and effect social change. I began to explore parts of my tradition that could offer other interpretations of anger.
An early Talmudic source encourages people to act as God acts. A Rabbinic figure states: “Just as God is kind and merciful, so too you should be kind and merciful.”3 However, these texts recommend only some of God’s attributes. One of the most striking omissions is God’s anger, yet one well-known characteristic of God in the Hebrew Bible is that God becomes angry! In one colorful verse, God declares: “For a fire has flared in My wrath And burned to the bottom of Sheol, Has consumed the earth and its increase, Eaten down to the base of the hills.”4 The Talmud shies away from teaching to emulate this aspect of God. However, I argue that God’s anger can give permission, or even encouragement, to embrace anger on a human level. I am not suggesting that we hold grudges or lash out at others. I believe that these ancient texts show that there are ways of embracing anger that can be productive, even in anger’s destructiveness. Just as God’s wrath is consuming and burning to result in a better world, so too can humans destroy oppressive systems in order to enact positive change.
I learned from the God of the Hebrew Bible that anger can be good, but then I asked: what happens when I’m angry at that God? What happens when I encounter examples of theodicy so troubling that I cannot feel anything other than anger? Here I again turned to a Rabbinic text, this time a Rabbinic exegetical text from the ninth century. The text presents a dialogue between God and the personified Jerusalem—who is traditionally presented as a woman—in which God attempts to console Jerusalem for the destruction of the temple. The Midrash states:
In the future, God will say to Jerusalem: take comfort from me, as it says, “Open to me my sister.” She said to Him: I will not receive comfort from you until we speak rebuke, as it says “Let us go my beloved we will go to the field,” to a place where there are no business transactions… God conceded and said: I looked at you, as it says “Since I have espoused you.”5
Here, Jerusalem refuses to be comforted by God until God admits God’s wrongdoings. She rebukes God, and God concedes that Jerusalem is right. The text intentionally uses verses from the love poetry of the Song of Songs to subvert them. God approaches Jerusalem in an act of love, and she rejects these offerings using verses that were romantic in their original context. She takes the loving relationship God is offering and turns it into one of rebuke—which God accepts! This text offers permission not only to be angry but to direct that anger at any injustice, even if the injustice comes from God. By becoming angry, we are resisting complacency, even from the divine. We can demand and shape a better world.
Anger is one of our avenues to finding passion, and thereby acting with bravery and strength. Anger can be good, and the Hebrew Bible enables us to feel anger without guilt. When we are angry, we are pushed to do things—the right things!—we may not have had the courage to do otherwise. It’s natural to feel despair in this day and age, but we can channel that care into impassioned anger and let its fire propel us to act in ways that will make 2019 a time of increased justice.