A bishop should never get angry
Waspy neighbour, pinecones and fallen twigs test writer’s resolve
A New York Times profile of Pope Leo XIV, noted that when he was head of the Vatican’s office for appointing bishops, Cardinal Robert Prevost stated, “A bishop should never get angry.” The comment stuck with me, and I thought of the many bishops I have known over the years. I think only one of them (maybe two!) ever got angry in my presence and, for the record, it was not one of the three archbishops of Edmonton I worked under as editor of the Western Catholic Reporter.
However, I also thought that if bishops can overcome the human tendency to anger, I should be able to do the same. I am not prone to wild outbursts of temper, but many things do peeve me. When one of the Oilers’ hockey players makes what I judge to be a bad play, for example, I don’t swear or curse, but I do moan, make low guttural sounds or comment, “Oh! Come on!” It’s not anger, but frustration is a step in that direction.
I may be setting the bar high in distinguishing between anger and equanimity, but it is likely no higher than what the future pope had in mind. To avoid anger, you must rid yourself of any display of annoyance and frustration.
Except for hockey games, my anti-anger project was going well until I had to mow the front lawn. This is our 34th summer living in our home with its well-treed lot, and it is also the 34th summer we have used the same trusty hand reel push mower. We chose a hand reel mower over the conventional power mower. It was the green option.
Hand reel mowers have advantages beyond saving energy. A person can carry them with one hand, and one doesn’t have to fret about possibly tripping over the cord or spilling fuel on the driveway. However, there are disadvantages too. The main one is that while a power mower will demolish all twigs, pinecones and everything else in its path like Godzilla breathing his atomic heat beam, a hand reel mower gets hung up on any and all detritus.
I began to mow. On the first path through the grass, I stirred up a wasp, who was oblivious to Pope Leo’s counsel about never becoming angry. I left the mower and walked away, but the persistent pest followed. “Get out of here,” I told the wasp who paid no attention. It followed me around for two minutes or more, harassing me in a threatening manner. Finally, in the depths of my heart, I muttered, “If I had a gun, I would shoot you.” Maybe that silent message connected as the wasp flew off and did not return.
I had won one battle but lost another – my resolution to avoid becoming angry.
Nora and I had long abandoned any thought of having the perfect lawn. In the first couple of years of home ownership, we cast aside all herbicides and fertilizers. We decided not to foul the earth with poisonous chemicals and gave the dandelions and other weeds free rein. We do not rake the lawn or collect the cut grass.
Our yard is a long way from being pure Mother Earth, but it, especially the front yard, is a collection of the aforementioned cones and twigs that have fallen from the trees. This spring has been especially windy, and the amount of debris greater than ever.
Even though it was sharpened a mere year ago, my push mower was not up to the task. Every few feet, it jarred me when a cone from one of the spruce trees or a twig from the mountain ash became stuck in the blades. Every time, I responded by freeing those blades with a good kick, the force of the kick becoming stronger the more cones and twigs became entangled in the mower. My muttering became more pronounced as the frustration of dealing with the sharp stops and persistent snags continued.
Eventually, the front lawn was finished, and I moved to the back lawn, where these slings and arrows of outrageous fortune were absent. This experience tested my resolve to replace anger and frustration with inner peace and harmony.
“Be not quick-tempered for anger lurks in the hearts of fools,” according to the Book of Ecclesiastes (7.9). In her insightful book Thoughts Matter, Sister Mary Margaret Funk writes, “Anger is the most devastating of the thoughts because it leads to total blindness.” Sister Mary Margaret has obviously heard the expression “blind rage.”
It sounds simplistic, but all kinds of deleterious thoughts can be turned aside by quietly saying the Jesus Prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me” when such thoughts arise. The trick is developing self-awareness to recognize when the blindness of anger is on the way. Such self-awareness can become a habit built slowly and over time. I will have to practice that the next time I head for the front lawn.
I have to disagree with you (and Cardinal Prevost) on this one Glen. Believing as I do that anger, like all other the emotions, are God-given gifts that are integral to our humanity. As far as bishops are concerned, I would say that they, like the rest of us, should ensure that their anger is understood and expressed in life-giving ways. In her book in her insightful book Holy Anger, Lytta Bassett asks, "Why did Cain murder his brother Abel?" Her answer: "Because he refused to disclose his anger."
So loved this. I am afraid that although we own two push mowers we do not use them. Still spilling gasoline on the gravel outside the shed. (Keeps the weeds down). I think the push mowers might be a little too much for Martin too.