Should you still be angry?

That pastor or clergyperson slighted you. The offense was an obvious no-no. Of course, your feelings are hurt. How dare that man or woman of God do this?

Yes, you stopped attending that mass or worship service. Why should you go? All the pain, the hurt, and the hard feelings?

As the September temperatures start to cool, should you cool, too? Should you still be angry?

The answer to the last two questions depends on many factors, all of which are likely very close to your heart. The point is you’ve been hurt.

In the grief process, anger is a landing station. My question is heartfelt. Are you ready to move from here?

It’s often easier to stay mad, not address the issue, or distance yourself from worship altogether. The good Lord knows there’s plenty to do when worship times or services are offered—TV, golf, puttering in the yard, doing laundry for the week ahead. Sitting still? Yes, that is a welcome rest, too.

There’s also your routine, or newly established routine. Comfortable is not just comfortable, it’s nice. And Sabbath is rest, isn’t it?

And let’s not forget that man or woman of the cloth. He was she WAS WRONG!

But the question circles again. Should you hang on to this?

The answer may be no.

I’m thinking what you may be thinking, too, even if the thought is very still and very quiet. This anger should be resolved. The hurt feelings should be addressed, opened, prayed over and healed.

I have heard what you have heard: church is full of hypocrites. All they want is your money. Christians? Pfft! They are fake, insincere, and self-seeking.

It has been years since I heard firsthand the story from a woman whose priest was a complete (fill in the blank). Yes. Father So and So. He was bad! She didn’t go back, speak her mind or her peace when the pain happened. Instead, she flung her faith away. That was it. No more.

She has been angry at this priest for twenty-two years. Maybe that’s still not enough time to stay angry. Maybe she needs another twenty-two months, or twenty-two years.

But I don’t think so.

For this woman, and the countless like her today, it is time to make peace. What is hard can soften. What needs silence can be silenced. What needs to be stepped into can be stepped into again.

But the priest is no longer serving that parish. The pastor is deaf to conversation, connection and correction. The clergywoman remains clueless.

This is where the words of Jesus become the ground on which to travel sometimes slowly and always gently. He says, “Blessed are the peacemakers (Matthew 5:9).”

Peacemaking is intentional, directional, and obtainable. The act of making peace is just that—an act, an action. It requires putting something down and picking something else up with a purpose and a plan.

When we are scared or scarred, dour or distraught, held back or hollow (or some combination therein), Jesus speaks of what can be done. Make peace. The specifics of making peace for you may not be the specifics for someone else. Some may lift and then move something hard and something else entirely.

But peacemaking is possible. It begins when we ask ourselves where the hurt is. Next, we ask how the hurt can be fixed, flattened, or forgiven.

The act of peacemaking builds not by or through our voice or volition. Rather, peacemaking happens by and through the healing words of Jesus. Recognize this. Perhaps rest in this if necessary. The Son of God is the very One who touches not only our hearts but also the hope we have (or may have forgotten we have).

Hope is the cornerstone of peacemaking. Hope enables peacemaking to do what is best. What is best is love.