Angry Christian: A Theology for Care and Counseling, The
Clarke, Jody HThe Angry Christian: A Theology for Care and Counseling. By Andrew D. Lester. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003. xi + 308 pp. $28.95 (paper).
The Angry Christian: A Theology for Care and Counseling is a thorough and engaging exploration of anger. In a theopolitical climate that is predicated on reactionism and reductionism, Lesters text is a scholarly reminder that we have a responsibility to attend to our emotive world. He begins by underscoring the essential nature of emotion as a crucial "aspect of the human condition" (p. 51) and argues against theological presuppositions that lead to the development of body/spirit dualism-"such a separation no longer makes theological sense" (p. 61). Notes Lester, "[e]motions such as grief, jov and sadness serve as sources of self-awareness and revelation about our relationship that can move us toward transformation" (p. 59). For Lester this is poignantly true when it comes to a negatively framed emotion such as anger. Personal and social transformation can only be built on the responsible appropriation and healthy expression of anger.
Lester's work is comprehensive in that it explores the way theology, Scripture, and culture have influenced both our cognitive understanding of anger and how such a construct has affected the human fabric. His scholarly treatment of this literature base is fair and insightful. For example, when he reviews Augustine's thoughts on the matter he offers a "dominant" and "alternative" way of reading the Bishop of Hippo. Remaining with Augustine, Lester points out that while anger did not belong to God, we as humans are required to discern why anger has occurred and thus to "take responsibility for identifying both the threat and why we were vulnerable to that threat" (p. 124). Lester employs a constructionist narrative perspective as a way of acknowledging both the nature of the threat and how we can address it. As the information of life changes "[w]e have the capacity and freedom, to 'reauthor' our stories-both past and present-in a way that makes more sense to us in light of new data" (p. 101). The Angry Christian erects a laudable base camp high up in the mountain known as anger. The final chapter adheres to the author's constructionist principles in assembling an eightphase process that begins with the need to "recognize anger when it occurs" (p. 227)-the first step-through to an examination of "why we are angry" (p. 232)-the fourth step-to the final destination of handling responsibly "the way in which anger is expressed" (p. 243).
The constructionist approach leaves me feeling angry-it is too sanitary. What Lester does not do is push for a final assault of the summit. To his credit, Lester is not satisfied with an anthropological or epistemological examination of anger; he takes time to explore the neurophysiology of anger. Herein he presses further than most scholars in the field. I concur with his assertion that as our perceptions change so too does our physical response to anger. In contrast to a constructionist approach, a dynamic form of inquiry would dive into the unconscious character of anger-in the end, anger itself is likely an unconscious defense mechanism that protects the self from deeper feelings of grief, abandonment, and sorrow. Depression, the catchall diagnosis of our age, is likely a neurophysiological response to anger.
As a pastoral theologian, I applaud texts that look realistically at the emotive world. Exploring the nature of anger is not for the fainthearted; Lester rightly points out how, without such attention, anger has been misunderstood and how it can become a destructive force. I strongly recommend the text to pastors, clinical pastoral educators, and friends of the emotive world.
JODY H. CLARKE
Atlantic School of Theology
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Copyright Anglican Theological Review, Inc. Fall 2005
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