The English poet William Blake wrote a poem about the danger of allowing our anger to fester. He called it “A Poison Tree”:
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
In simple, child-like language, William Blake identifies the emotional fuel that keeps our anger going. Fears, tears, smiles, wiles. Our fear of this or that fuels our anger; our desapir fuels it; as time goes on we are happy to maintain it, it is comforting to be angry; we tell all sorts of stories to ourselves and others in order to keep it going. And it grows and grows. Until it is downright deadly.
I don’t have to give you a list of all of the conflicts we endure – in our families, in our community, in our nation, between nations – you can come up with plenty of examples.
Since anger is universal and so destructive, I think it’s worth giving thought to what fuels it and if its destructive nature is inevitable.
Anger plays a significant role in the story of Joseph and his brothers, a magnificent mini-narrative within the larger Genesis saga.
