So about this guy from my childhood. I have a sinful amount of anger towards a bad person from my childhood. About fifty years ago. When I was a kid, probably fourth grade, I liked to hang out with my friend down the street. That was actually a great friendship that had lasted for several years. Until. One day, we were playing on a pile of sand that had been dumped in my friend’s back yard. They had a construction project going on, and my friend’s dad turned on the garden hose and sprayed both me and my friend with water. Totally doused us. He then yelled at us because he didn’t like the way that we were playing in the sand.
I walked home at that point. I was a few houses down the street, soaking wet, confused, embarrassed, but also feeling very bad about myself. At the time, I thought that I must have done something really bad. I was embarrassed walking around all wet like that. I went home and I never ever went back. That was the end of the friendship. That was the last day I ever interacted with my friend.
Here’s the thing. That guy that sprayed me with water was a real jerk, and what he did was very wrong. And the thing is that one should be angry at the sight of injustice. That’s appropriate anger. But my anger has gone well past justifiable anger. I really would like to even the score with that guy. I mean, I really would like that.
But guess what, it’s too late for that. I just looked it up. He’s been dead for a while. I have seething anger towards a dead man. So that puts me in a pretty bad spot, actually. What if, somehow, God has forgiven his sins against me and has actually allowed that guy into heaven? And what if God does the same for me? And he allows me into heaven? I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be filled with joy if I run into that guy. I’d probably want to go find a heavenly garden hose and let him have it. Do you see the problem? Vindictive rage is not compatible with heaven. If we’re lucky enough to be in heaven, we will not have to look over our shoulder in fear that somebody that we sinned against is about to let us have it.
Here’s the deal. I know that I must somehow recover from the anger. The anger I’ve been stoking for fifty years. It’s the only solution. Suppressing the anger doesn’t work. Shoving it down below the surface, pretending that it’s not there, means it’s going to be kept safe and sound until I’m dead. But since it can’t be taken with me into heaven, it will have to be dealt with before I can go into heaven. That’s the whole point of purgatory. Purgatory is a cleansing fire that burns that bad stuff out and leaves us nice and clean. Regardless of that, I have a problem and it has to be dealt with. The only solution is that I have to heal from this and ultimately let the anger go.
In Luke chapter 6, in the blessings and the woes, Jesus talks about two different sides of the same coin. On the one side, people are with God and they are growing in holiness. On the other side, people are rejecting God and living for themselves. On the side where people are with God, they already have let everything go. They are content to follow God wherever that leads them. On the other side, people are grasping and clutching to life as they desire.
For the side apart from God, the Gospel speaks of people who are rich, who are filled and not hungry, people who laugh, and people who seek to be valued by important people in society. These things are not objectively bad. People can be rich. People can be filled. People can laugh, and that’s actually okay. Jesus promises as much for those that stick with him, so they in themselves cannot be fundamentally problematic. But Jesus makes a connection between these things and the false prophets. You need to understand that a false prophet knows what they’re doing. They are standing up and speaking as though for God, but they know internally that they’re not really doing that. They’re lying for their own purposes. They’re grasping and clutching at worldly things. In the end, they will have their riches taken away, they will be hungry, they will grieve and weep, they will ultimately lose the social status that they had gained for themselves. Probably in this life, but if not, then in the life to come.
It’s different for those on the other side of the coin. They go through life with an open hand. They’re not grasping and clutching at worldly things. They’re not trading off their connection to God for increased wealth, for the pursuit of comfort like being constantly filled, for improved social status. That’s the whole point of following God. He leads us, and we follow.
In A Christmas Carol, Dickens describes Ebenezer Scrooge as a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner. And that’s a description for those people on the side of the coin that are living apart from God. Living a life like a false prophet.
And when I think about my anger for this dead guy, that jerk, I am all of those things that Dickens says about Scrooge. So here’s the deal. Do you think that my life would be any better if I let go of the anger? If I tried to be more like those people on the side of the coin that follow Jesus? Those people that go through life with an open hand?
Of course my life would be much better. I’m constantly telling others that holding onto anger and resentment like this is the same as drinking poison and hoping to hurt the other person.
So what am I going to do about this? What should you do if you’re holding onto anger like I am?
Jesus is calling us to be people who let go — not just of wealth, comfort, or social approval, but of everything that keeps us from him. And that includes the anger and resentment we clutch so tightly. Because the truth is, we will have to let it go someday. If we don’t do it now, we’ll have to do it in purgatory. If we refuse to do it at all, then we risk choosing separation from God entirely.
So I have a choice. I can keep grasping onto this anger, clenching my fists like Scrooge, and let it continue to shape me into someone I don’t want to be. Or I can open my hands. I can begin — maybe not all at once, but step by step — to let it go.
My first step is to add this dead guy to my daily prayer routine, and to pray for the repose of his soul. Also, I’m going to ask for help, saying, “Lord, help me want to let go. Help me begin.”
Because in the end, if we hope to stand before God with open hands, free of everything that weighs us down, we must start letting go now. That is the path of the blessed. That is the way of Christ. And that is the way to true joy — not just in heaven, but even here and now.
If you are still angry at someone who is gone, start with the two angers. The first is the injustice. He soaked two boys and yelled, and a friendship ended. That anger was appropriate. The second is the score you still want to even. Write both. Do not call the second one justice. The person is dead. The score cannot be evened.
Suppressing it is not the same as letting it go. If you shove it down and pretend it is not there, you have stored it. Say the sentence you have been storing. I would still like to even the score. Then pray the prayer from this homily, in those words, once a day. Lord, help me want to let go. Help me begin. Add the person to the prayer for the dead. You do not have to feel finished. You have to stop keeping the case open in private.
If the person is not dead, and the harm is still happening, this is not the step. Get safe. Call 988 or local emergency services if you are in danger now. Letting go is for the case that cannot be collected. It is not a reason to stay and be hurt again.
The open hand, in this Gospel, is not a mood. It is the decision to stop clutching the one thing you have been using to keep the old day alive. One prayer. One day. Then the next.
This is a pastoral reflection, not clinical care and not a substitute for it. If you or someone you love is in immediate danger, call 988 or local emergency services.Drawn from a homily first preached in 2025. 