March 27, Lent 4C (Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32)
Sometimes anger is a window into what needs to be mended and healed.
Last summer I had a conversation with a woman from our congregation who is a special education teacher and a behavioral specialist in a nearby school district. We talked about everything kid-related and COVID-related, as we prepared our kids for a return to in-person school after a year of virtual learning. I felt anxious in more ways than one. Like many other parents and teachers, we noted a marked increase in anxiety and other heightened emotions among our kids, too.
This didn’t feel surprising. It felt like par for the course for being a human during a global pandemic. I have always embraced being an optimist, obnoxiously proud of my ability to always see the silver lining. But I felt something change during the pandemic. Spending your days with a persistent sense of dread can fundamentally change a person. There were some dark, difficult days.
One emotion we noticed over and over in our kids was a kind of low-grade anger. I was reminded that anger doesn’t manifest itself in a singular way, because it is tied to other emotions like grief, loneliness, sadness, insecurity, and more. It isn’t just tantrums or outbursts or rage. What was especially instructive in my conversation with the woman from church was the reminder that behavior communicates. How a person behaves—especially if it’s a child who is only beginning to learn the vocabulary for their emotions—can give us a glimpse of their inner world, if we pay attention.
