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Jewish Teachings on Anger in a World Full of Rage

Writer's picture: Rabbi Amy EilbergRabbi Amy Eilberg

("Moses Strikes the Rock" by Richard Andre, 1884)


In a world full of rage, this week’s Torah portion (Hukat) brings us an important perspective on the use and misuse of anger.


At the start of the 20th chapter of Bamidbar/Numbers, we find a brief reference to the death of Miriam. The text describes her death in a mere five words. (Many centuries later, the midrash fills in the gaps with dramatic descriptions of the people’s grief.) Among all the things that could be said about this, one thing is certain: Moses had just lost his sibling and one of his closest companions. It must have been a painful time. 


Perhaps the absence of more attention to her death hints that Moses and the people wanted to avoid dealing with her death. And we know what happens when grief goes unacknowledged.


Immediately, the text tells us that, once again, there was no water and that the people grew angry with Moses and Aaron. “Why did you make us leave Egypt to bring us to this wretched place, a place with no grain, figs, vines or pomegranates? There is not even water to drink!” (Numbers 20:5)


Moses and Aaron, exasperated, turn to God and fall on their faces. God calmly orders Moses and Aaron to “take the rod and assemble the community, and before their very eyes order the rock to yield its water.” (Numbers 20:8) It is a very clear instruction, but Moses’ clarity was obscured by grief and frustration. He was trying to push forward as if he had not just suffered a grievous loss. He was depleted and frustrated and had little space to respond compassionately to the people’s outburst.


Moses took the rod, as God had commanded, stood in front of the people and cried out in anger, “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?” (Numbers 20:10)

Then he struck the rock. Twice.


It is important to remember that this scene had unfolded once before, way back, not long after the Exodus, when God’s instruction to Moses was, indeed, to strike the rock (presumably, once) to bring forth water. (Exodus 17:6) So perhaps it shouldn’t have been a big deal that Moses responded to that instruction instead of the unique instruction on this occasion.


Now, God is angry with both Moses and Aaron. God announces that because they “did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people,” Moses and Aaron would not be permitted to enter into the Land. (Numbers 20:12)


Much ink and creativity have been expended trying to discern why God was so infuriated with Moses and Aaron — enough to impose this momentous punishment for a minimal act of disobedience.


The text itself hints that something in their action diminished the miracle of bringing forth water from a rock. We hear this in the language that Moses and Aaron had failed to “affirm My sanctity.” That is such a clear connection in the text that it is truly intriguing that many commentators instead write that Moses’ central sin was speaking to the people in judgment and anger. (“Listen, you rebels …” verse 10.)


Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev (1740-1809) writes of that verse, “This was Moses’ great sin, for Israel was in a time of sorrow, and he should have helped them rather than rebuked them.” The rebbe calls to mind a teaching from the Talmud: “When you see a person who is suffering, you must search your own actions” — meaning, counterintuitively, first consider whether you have contributed in any way to their suffering. 


Moses, according to the rebbe, should have been especially kind toward the people who had just lost their beloved Miriam, and he should have explored his own state of mind thoroughly before reacting.


Rabbi Mordechai Benet (1753-1829) recalls that the midrash says, “Anger leads to mistakes,” that the Talmud teaches, “The Shechinah departs from one who is angry,” and that Maimonides also names anger as Moses’ central sin.


Anger is valorized in today’s society, often seen as a sign of strength and conviction. So it may be difficult to absorb the very ambivalent relationship that Jewish tradition has with anger.


Consider the following, just a few Jewish texts that direct our attention to the risks of anger. “Whoever flares up in anger is subject to all kinds of Gehinnom (hell).” (Talmud Nedarim 22a) That is, when we explode in anger, we ourselves suffer and make others suffer all around us. “An angry person is left with nothing but anger.” (Talmud Kiddushin 41a) That is, anger can become all-consuming. “Anyone who becomes angry should be regarded as an idol-worshipper.” (Talmud Shabbat 105b) That is, our anger indicates that we think things should always turn out just as we want them to, as if we were the Master of all things.

The Talmud even tells us that when God prays, God beseeches, “May My mercy overcome My anger towards Israel for their transgressions.” (Talmud Berachot 7a) God tends toward angry outbursts and then prays to do better.


Surely, there are times for righteous anger: to set a boundary, to protect oneself or others, to protest injustice. But when my anger is simply an escape valve for my own unprocessed emotions, it is not a virtue.


As we move through this difficult time in history, may our mercy overcome our anger toward ourselves and those around us. 


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1 Comment


wsbeck
Jul 28, 2024

Thank you, Rabbi, for your column on anger. It is true that when we act in anger, we often make mistakes. In Homer’s Iliad, ate’, or anger/rage was seen as the cause of what befalls the Greeks after Agamemnon disrespects Achilles. The lessons are there from the ancient world. Too many people fail to read and take lessons from the past. Thank you.

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