Rabbi Janet Marder

September 5, 2008

Mastering Anger

            It’s been a week of high drama in the news. Hurricane Gustav threatened New Orleans . Republicans and Democrats threatened each other. Bloggers and pundits of all stripes sounded off on the new nominee for Vice President. Labor Day came and went, and the U.S. Census Bureau reported that last year American women working full-time made 22 percent less than men working full-time – the closest we’ve ever come to income parity.

            Oil and gas prices fell a bit over the week. Google unveiled a new web browser. Lots and lots of kids went back to school. And most exciting, for all the world’s Jews, a new Hebrew month began. It’s the last month of the year, the month of Elul.

            The start of Elul means that in less than 30 days we’ll all be together celebrating Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.  We’ll envision ourselves standing before the Judge of all the world, our deeds laid out before God like an open book.  We’ll spend time confessing our sins, asking for forgiveness, resolving to do better, praying for a good year.

            Jonathan Sarna, professor at Brandeis University , reports that once when he was describing this High Holy Day ritual a student said, “Surely you don’t believe any of that rot!”  “If everyone believed it,” Sarna answered, “our world would be much better off” [From J. Sarna, “A Time to Every Purpose,” p.101].

            Dr. Sarna meant that, for Jews, these holy days are a powerful system for self-improvement.  We use the language of judgment to convey three big ideas. First: people are fallible; everyone does wrong. Second: we are responsible for our deeds, accountable for our actions. And third: each of us is free to choose how we will live.

            Together these ideas add up to the possibility of character change. Judaism doesn’t idealize human nature – it teaches that we’re born morally neutral, with a strong inclination to do wrong --but our tradition is profoundly optimistic about our ability to do better. The High Holy days celebrate our confidence that human beings can progress towards the good, person by person and soul by soul.

            But how, exactly, does that happen?  It would be nice if these holy days were like a car wash. You know – you drive to the entrance of the car wash, you turn off your engine, you put the car in neutral, and your car is carried forward automatically, thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed, then discharged at the end, fresh and clean and shiny. If the High Holy Days worked like that we’d show up, sit through all the services, and come out at the end of Yom Kippur washed clean of our misdeeds and a much better person.

            But the car wash is an essentially passive experience. Just going through the rituals of the High Holy Days, sitting there and reading the prayers with the congregation, doesn’t accomplish the work of character improvement.

            So let’s talk about how we can get a little better, every single year.

            The first step comes right now, at the beginning of Elul. Our Sages tell us that this is the time to start focusing on where we fall short. We do it in a simple, low-tech way, with a pencil and paper. Do you like those quizzes in magazines that help you figure out if you’re a workaholic or a woman who loves too much? Here’s a sample quiz that  can help us figure out where our character needs improvement. You can do it alone first, and then, if you like, go through it with someone you love and trust.

• Am I prone to anger? When I am angry, do I overreact and say or do things that inflict pain on others? Or am I the sort of person who, if asked, will deny that I am angry, yet will treat other people with coldness, disdain, and annoyance?

• Do I judge others fairly, or am I habitually critical (both in what I say and what I think)?

• Am I stingy with my money or my time?

•  Do I speak curtly, making people feel that I have no time for them?

• Do I avoid saying or doing what I believe is right because I fear how others will react or what they will think of me?

• Am I moody?

•  Do I make people around me feel that they are somehow responsible for my moods?

• Do I treat strangers with more consideration than members of my own family?

• Do I take other people's kind behavior for granted, or do I go out of my way to express thanks and help those who have been kind to me?

• Do I blame my wrongful actions and mistakes on others, or do I take responsibility for the wrong I do?

• Do I jump to conclusions and blame other people before I know all the facts?

• Am I able to control my impulses, or do I give in to temptation easily?

• Do I bear grudges and remain angry at others for a long time after an argument?

• Am I tardy, and thereby waste other people's time by keeping them waiting?

• Do I rationalize dishonesty with excuses such as "Business is different"?

• When I hear of other people's sufferings or misfortunes, do I find ways to help them, or do I feel sadness in my heart but do nothing?

• Am I jealous of the success of others? Do I begrudge others their good fortune? [Questions by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, from Reform Judaism Magazine, Spring 2006]

            Feel free to add your own questions if you don’t recognize yourself in these. After you’ve written down some of your negative behaviors comes a very important step: don’t get depressed! Discouragement is the enemy of character improvement. Feel good that you’ve initiated the process of becoming a better person by being honest with yourself.

            Then choose a single trait to focus on in a systematic way in the year ahead. Let’s say you have a problem with anger, a common human behavior, and you would like to do a better job of controlling your temper. You know it’s bad for your health – it stresses your cardiovascular system; some scientists even believe that chronic anger is a risk factor for early death  [see “If Anger Ruins Your Day, It Can  Shrink Your Life” by Natalie Angier, NY Times, Dec.13, 1990]. You know it’s hard on your relationships; you don’t like the way you sound when you explode in rage.

            Jewish teachings on character improvement are called musar – the word means “morality” in Hebrew. There are several musar works devoted to the specific topic of anger. Here’s some advice from our Sages:

            First: most musar writing emphasizes the destructive potential of anger. Maimonides, the Rambam, wrote: "Regarding anger, the sages said the following: 'If one is a wise man, his wisdom leaves him; if he is a prophet, his prophecy leaves him. The life of the irascible person is no life. . . " [Maimonides' Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot Laws of Character, chapter 2]  Because anger robs us of the ability to think clearly and leads us to behave in ways we know are wrong, our Sages saw anger not just as a character flaw but as spiritually damaging.

      What can we do about anger? Today psychologists tell us that discharging your anger doesn’t help it go away. Writes one: “Anger doesn't automatically dissipate by being unleashed. We rarely experience catharsis. Venting it in words or action doesn't make anger easier to manage; often it only increases the intensity of the feeling. Anger often feeds on itself [The Downside of Anger, Hara Estroff Marano, Psychology Today July/Aug 2003].

            Two thousand years ago the Talmud said it very simply:  “Rage produces nothing but rage” [Kiddushin 41a].

            So screaming at our kids or lashing out at our spouse doesn’t help us calm down – it only agitates us more. Telling ourself, “Don’t get angry” doesn’t seem to help much, either. Nor does clenching our teeth and repressing our rage – that, too, has serious health consequences, and it usually comes out in passive aggression, anyway.

            Jewish tradition takes a practical and preventive approach. “Don’t be quick to anger,” says the Book of Ecclesiastes, “for anger lodges in the bosom of fools” [7:9]. The Mishna in Pirke Avot (5:14) advises us to be “slow to anger and easy to pacify.” Note that it doesn’t say “never get angry.”  We’re given a realistic, attainable goal: focus on diminishing the intensity of your reactions to difficult situations. Calm your hair-trigger temper; develop a longer fuse. Learn how to let go of anger so you’ll recover more quickly when you’re upset.

            The Rambam taught that mastery of anger means that we can take it out and use it, like a tool, when it is appropriate and necessary – but we remain in charge of what we’re doing [see Hilchot De’ot ch.2].

            Some musar teachers recommend keeping an anger journal. At the end of a day, we can jot down a note about the times we got angry that day. What was it that got us mad? Why did that particular behavior push our buttons? Which of our needs was frustrated – our need to be right, our need to be seen as competent, our need to feel important, our need to be in charge or in control, our need for others to live up to our standards?

            Reflect in the journal: what’s going on in my life that may be provoking these irritable outbursts? Am I feeling overwhelmed by financial worries, stress at work, my own perfectionist drives? Was I tired or hungry or depressed or drunk? How did this situation look from the other person’s perspective? Did my anger lead to a positive result? Was there, perhaps, another way I could have handled this situation?

            Rabbi Zelig Pliskin suggests that we try seeing anger as “the inner teacher” – a human response that can teach us something about ourselves. The things that make us angry reveal important dimensions of our personality. As the Talmud [Eruvin 65b] says, “A person is known by three things: b’chiso, b’koso, uv’cha’aso – by his pocket (that is, his generosity), by his cup (his drinking habits), and by his anger.”  So every experience of anger can be an opportunity for us to gain some useful insights and self-understanding. Keep the journal over time and we may notice a pattern in the circumstances that trigger our anger.

            Having become aware of situations in which we tend to explode, we can train ourselves to stay calm and think more clearly. We can prepare for difficult encounters by thinking them through and making a plan. We can practice the mitzvah of kaf zechut -- judging others favorably [Pirke Avot 1:6] rather than jumping to conclusions and attributing the worst to them. We can practice k’vod ha-briyot, seeing other people – including those who habitually irritate us – as people worthy of compassion and respect.

            We can practice hakarat ha-tov, focusing deliberately on the good qualities of others, rather than obsessing about their imperfections. We can learn to take long, deep breaths and repeat a calming phrase, like “savlanut v’shalom – patience and peace.” We can learn the value of taking a break and going outside for a while, as the Bratzlaver rebbe taught, to be alone with ourself and alone with God.

            And we can persist in these practices over time, sticking with the journal, enlisting the support of others (including professional help if we need it), noticing how other people handle stressful situations and asking the ones we admire, “How did you do that? How did you get through that without losing your temper?” We can notice and celebrate the occasions on which we control our behavior rather than letting anger control us.

            None of this is easy. But all of it is worthwhile. And best of all, it works! I know one man who learned to conquer his habit of swearing at other drivers on the freeway by driving more slowly and reminding himself, repeatedly, that he was setting a bad example for his kids. I know another who deliberately trained himself to be more gentle and less irritable after his father died young of a heart attack. I know a woman who was frightened by the rage she expressed towards her children. After some time in therapy she learned to respond more often like the patient and loving mom she wanted to be.

            Rabbi Israel Salanter, the founder of the Mussar movement, often said that the loudest sound in the universe is the breaking of a bad habit

            Change is the theme of this sacred season – change, progress and hope. We enter our holy days holding fast to Jewish optimism – believing that our past need not determine our future, that our aspirations can become real, that this year we can all lift ourselves a little bit higher.

            Surely if everyone believed that, we’d be living in a much better world.

Note: For more about anger, see Zelig Pliskin, Anger: The Inner Teacher

and Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski, The Enemy Within: Confronting Your Challenges in the 21st Century