Rabbi Janice Garfunkel

What does Judaism teach us about anger? Woody Allen’s movies famously captured the stereotype of loud, boisterous Jewish families who expressed all their voluble emotions — easy to yell, easy to hug. He contrasted this with gentile families, who sat around the dinner table, quiet and calm and genteel, but secretly seething with far more dangerous rage that could erupt at any minute.

So, does Judaism, in fact, teach us that we ought to express our anger? That it is better for us to get it out, rather than repress it?  Is Judaism “pro anger?” Not exactly.

In Torah portion Ki Tisa, we read on March 6 that God is “slow to anger.”

In the “holiness code” of Leviticus 19, we are told, “you shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall surely rebuke your fellow and not bear sin on his account.”

The ancient sages said, “Those who are angry — it is the same as if they worshipped idols (Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim 66b).”

The best known Jewish stories about anger revolve around the rabbinic sage Hillel, who was famously patient.

One man bet another that he could provoke Hillel to lose his temper. On Friday, before the Sabbath, as Hillel was inside washing his hair, the man came to his home and called out to ask him a question. Hillel dried off, robed, and went outside to see who was calling him. The man asked him a silly question: “Why do the Babylonians have round heads?” Hillel answered, “You have asked a great question. Because they lack skillful midwives.” When he had gone back to washing his hair, the man again interrupted his bath to ask him a different silly question. And a third time, he again waited just long enough until Hillel had gotten back in the bath before doing it yet again. Each time, Hillel calmly and patiently answered, finally sitting down and encouraging the man to ask whatever he needed.

When the man angrily told Hillel that his patience had caused him to lose a bet of 400 zuz, Hillel replied, “Be careful of your moods. Hillel is worth it that you should lose 400 zuz, and yet another 400 zuz through him, yet Hillel shall not lose his temper (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 31a).”

Here, Hillel seems to be saying, “better you should lose 400 zuz, or even twice that big amount, than that I lose my temper (or you lose yours). Cultivating a patient disposition is much more important than making money.”

So how do we reconcile Judaism’s teachings against anger, with our own stereotypes of Jews who “let it all hang out?”

Certainly, all human beings experience anger. We could say that our goal is to be like Hillel, possessing great patience. It is important to note that Hillel genuinely was not angry, which is very different from feeling anger but suppressing it (a bad idea). How did Hillel manage to avoid becoming angry? He realized he had the freedom to see the situation in various ways. He could be annoyed at the provocations (which, it turned out, were intentional provocations) or he could see the positive in the situation: how great it was that here was a man seeking knowledge.

So, like Hillel, we can choose to reframe our experiences as positively as possible (albeit, without being stupid and putting ourselves in danger). We can give every person the benefit of the doubt.

But also, when we do experience anger (and there are occasions when we are justified in doing so), we should, indeed, express it.  “You shall surely rebuke your fellow and not bear sin on his account.”

Often, anger builds because we do not immediately address the problem. What might have been a very minor issue builds until someone explodes in rage and acts inappropriately.

How we address the problem that is making us angry is also of great importance. We talk very little about the problem of arrogance today. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a rabbi address the topic, but it is discussed a great deal in Jewish texts. Making the assumption that “I am right and you are wrong” is arrogant.

Rather than come at the other person to tell her what she is doing wrong, we should present the problem we are experiencing. Maybe she is right, and I am wrong.

Using “I” statements is a good rule of thumb. “I feel” is better than “you should.” “Excuse me, I can’t hear the rabbi’s sermon” is better than, “be quiet!” But “be quiet!” is certainly better than saying nothing, seething with anger, and then committing the sin of lashon hora (gossip) by telling someone else at kiddush how inconsiderate so-and-so is for talking during the whole service and driving you crazy.

Didn’t receive an invitation to the wedding? Don’t tell everyone else in the family. If you can’t just let it go and not worry about it, then ask the young couple about it. If there is a reason, this gives the couple a chance to explain. If it was boorish on their part, it gives them a chance to fix it (an e-mail might put them less on the spot, and give them a bit more time to fix their mistake than a phone call). Hopefully, if they have an explanation, you will be able to accept it graciously, and still genuinely wish them all the best on their wedding day.

There is a lot of literature, Jewish and secular, to help us work on our tempers, and find fewer opportunities to become angry.

Almost all of us become angry much more frequently than is necessary. But even the most patient among us will nonetheless become angry sometimes.

People do unjust things, people make mistakes, sometimes people intentionally harm others and deserve our anger.

The best solution is to try to address the situation that makes us angry as quickly and as constructively as possible — and then let go of it. If you hold on to the coal of anger, the hand that gets burned will be your own.