Lent 30

Anger is a funny thing. When it boils up inside, it has to come out, somehow. When it doesn't, that's when even more serious problems creep out. Mind you, there are healthy and responsible ways to let anger out and not so healthy and responsible ways.

I said at least a couple of times today that anger is my favorite stage of grief, though I may have said it somewhat sarcastically. Anger does, indeed, have the most potential for some very interesting manifestations. The chaplain takes on many roles in her job. Sometimes she is confessor. Sometimes she is simply listening ear. Sometimes she is spiritual resource. Sometimes she is minister of ritual. And just sometimes, she is punching bag. Today, I filled the punching bag role, and I'd like to add that I fulfilled this role with as much grace and charm as is befitting of a Southern lady. At the deathbed of his father, a young man, without any provocation other than I was not the chaplain he hoped to see, went absolute nutso and cursed at me, about me, and near me for a couple of minutes. Then his mother, the patient's wife, and I were sharing a tender moment. I reached out and touched her shoulder and almost came back with a nub. She shouted "Don't touch me!", yelled at me a little, freaked out and after another moment or two, she got up and ran away from me. (Pretty much love my job some days...)

Like I said, anger really is a funny thing because it's outlets really are unpredictable. They weren't--at least I don't think--angry at me, personally. But their grief mixed with guilt came out in anger and it had to go somewhere. They didn't feel like they could be mad at their deceased family member (though my hunch is, that's who they were really mad at) so I became the object of all their anger. At first I felt really frustrated by my 15 minutes in the room, thinking it was a train wreck, but after a bit, I realized that just maybe I shouldn't beat up on those folks too bad. They were just angry, after all.

This evening, I've been trying to imagine "angry Jesus." I wonder what it must have been like sitting on the steps at the Temple, resting my tired feet, and then all of a sudden being drawn into commotion because that Jesus fella seems to have gone absolutely nutso and is flipping tables over and admonishing people for doing things they'd been doing there in the Temple for a while. I kind of like the wild Jesus I picture in my mind right then and there.