This series of articles is written by John Trapp and is taken from https://metropolitantabernacle.org/articles/anger-is-a-tender-virtue/.
The folly of fury
Anger is the fury of the unclean spirit who inflames the heart and sets the tongue on fire so that a person cares not what he says (as Jonah), or what he does (as Saul).
‘Let not the sun go down upon your wrath’, says Paul, for this is to give place to the devil, who through anger enters the heart and takes possession. Many allow anger to so possess them that years pass, even many years, before they can be reconciled. Their anger becomes long established and deep-rooted, turning into malice (for anger and malice differ only in age). Anger permitted becomes malice, which is anger in its worst form – ‘Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce; and their wrath, for it was cruel’ (Genesis 49.7).
Anger is the murder of the heart (Matthew 5.22), and in due course the murder both of the tongue and hand. So it is said: ‘Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer.’ He is a murderer in desire; he would be in fact if he dared.
First comes the hatred rising in the heart against a person, so that when one sees that person, one cannot abide him, nor speak to him, nor look at him, nor behave courteously and kindly toward him; but one’s face falls, one even turns away. Then, when the heart is settled in this alienation, the hatred grows to wish and desire the hurt of that person, and even to rejoice when it can be accomplished; as when Joseph’s brethren had cast him into the pit. Lamech boasted of his manhood, though doghood was rather what he had.
The worst sort of anger is that which, though for a time smothered and restrained, will suddenly burst out and flame up into further fury, as we see in Cain, who killed his brother.
Erasmus mentions Friar Augustine of Antwerp who openly in the pulpit there told the people that he wished Luther were there so that he could bite out his throat with his teeth. No doubt the friar would have proceeded to the altar with his bloodstained teeth to ‘receive’ the body of Christ.
A foremost executioner of martyrs in the days of Queen Mary was so angry when Elizabeth came to the crown, that he never failed to curse her daily in his grace at table, and was hanged for his treason in 1571. He was like the foolish bee, who lost her life to get revenge.
William the Conqueror furiously determined to get his revenge on the King of France who, being young and strong, jeered at his great belly. William entered France at the height of the harvest, making spoil of everything in his path, until he came to Paris, where the King of France was, to face him with his insolence.
From there he marched to the city of Mantes, which he utterly sacked, and then met his own destruction; so ended his wars and his life together.
His successor, Edward I, went further in his anger, for going against Bruce, King of Scots, he commanded his son and nobles that if he died on the journey, they should carry his corpse about Scotland with them, and not allow it to be buried until they had vanquished the enemy and totally subdued the country.
Here was a mind so set on its earthly objective that it could not bear to leave off even after it had departed! Here was a heart so set on revenge, that it planned the carrying forth of that revenge beyond life! Are we mortal, and shall our anger be immortal?
‘To be revenged is more honorable than to be reconciled,’ said Aristotle. But this is the voice of nature. Scripture shows us better things, as when Abigail persuaded David when he was marching in anger, that it would be no grief to him, nor offence of heart, to bridle his passions and to hold his hand from blood. Cranmer’s gentleness in pardoning wrongs was such that it became a proverb: ‘Do my Lord of Canterbury a shrewd turn, and then you shall be sure to have him your friend for life.’