Anger: From Apostles to Apostates

I recently posted this music video and accompanying Rolling Stone article, which resonated strongly with a part of myself I hadn’t fully explored yet. Tyler's music oozes with raw anger toward the church that we have felt so betrayed by. Instead of shrinking away, he embraces the pain stemming from the emotional manipulation and logical fallacies that are held as gospel truth within the dogmatic religious mindset, transforming it into hyperbolic artistic expression. It felt so vindicating to me. 

It's tempting to think that such over-the-top sacrilegious displays are not necessary, and that everyone should just do their own thing in peace. While this is a generally good practice in moderation, it leaves no room for anger, a fundamental human emotion that needs to be experienced in a healthy manner. The Church did a good job helping me understand the value of keeping anger in check, as impulsive anger can be harmful. However, they left out how important it is to recognize the benefits of the emotion. This effectively allowed me to alienate anger altogether; I didn’t think I ever really felt angry, nor did I think I should feel it.  

A forensic psychiatrist recently taught me, “anger cannot be created or destroyed.” If the anger isn’t being expressed outwardly, it tends to be directed inwardly with disastrous results. I can be extremely harsh on myself. Too harsh. Tyler emoted to me how art can be a wonderful medium to contain outward expressions of anger, and through the aesthetic experience I felt a spiritual link to Tyler and all those who have suffered at the hands of dogmatic religion.

In an interesting parallel, LDS apostle Jeffery Holland expressed some anger in a recent stake conference address in Arizona.  Although Handbook 2 Section 21.1.33 prohibits the recording of these local talks, it’s 2016, and if you don’t want what you say to be heard by the world, than you shouldn’t say it in a public setting. Besides, if you’re speaking the words of God, shouldn’t you want them to be recorded and studied by all? Then no one can twist your words! Perhaps this prohibition on spreading the Good Word is in the spirit of the “pearls before swine” thing. Well, despite the Church’s intentions, the whole world now has this pearl: 

“I am so furious with people who leave this church. I don’t know whether ‘furious’ is a good apostolic word. But I am. What on earth kind of conviction is that? What kind of patty-cake, taffy-pull experience is that? As if none of this ever mattered, as if nothing in our contemporary life mattered, as if this is all just supposed to be ‘just exactly the way I want it and answer every one of my questions and pursue this and occupy that and defy this – and then maybe I’ll be a Latter-Day Saint.’ Well, there’s too much Irish in me for that. This church means EVERYTHING to me. Everything." [emphasis mine]

I could have chosen to react emotionally and take offense to the condescending sentiment of this bizarre rant, or the delighted laughter of the audience. But I have recently discovered the value of anger, and if I can believe that my anger is justified, might Jeff’s anger be as well?

After all, the very notion of my “paddy-cake, taffy-pull” life is earth-shatteringly terrifying to him. The existence of millions like myself who find spiritual fulfillment after leaving the Church threatens the very core of his identity. His church’s dogma is “EVERYTHING” to him. Some critics may think the higher ups in the Church are intentionally deceptive in their public persona, but I’m not so sure about all of them. I believe, in his heart of hearts, Jeff truly thinks of himself as one who speaks the words of Jesus Christ. I was there with him at one point; I felt so deeply that he and his buddies were God’s chosen authority figures, and that what they taught was the truest of the true. Within that black-and-white mindset, it’s either all correct or completely false, and think of all he would he lose were he to discover his EVERYTHING was completely false!

I know firsthand that it’s a painful realization. In entertaining the thought that what I hoped to be true may be wrong, I suffered a blow to what psychiatrist Irvin Yallom describes as the most important defense mechanisms against raw death anxiety. These include the myth of personal specialness (e.g. I am a child of God and he really loves so he won’t give me more than I can handle)  and the myth of an ultimate rescuer (e.g. death isn’t really real because Jesus’ resurrection will save me). It makes sense that why Jeff and his millions of fans wouldn't want to face this; holding tightly to these protective defenses and transforming the underlying fear into anger is much easier than embracing reality.

In continuing through the pain, though, I have begun to understand that the world is not black and white. It is a lush spectrum of grays that has room for all I value, as well as the things that scare the shit out of me. The Church had persuaded me to believe my emotional and spiritual experiences were inseparable from their canned narrative. But my experiences are unique to my own inner world, and I can fully access these states of consciousness (and more) even without the Church’s framework of rituals and beliefs.

Thank you, Tyler, for helping me to embrace the anger I so desperately needed to integrate in order to progress toward psychological wholeness. And thank you, Jeff, for reminding me how far I’ve come.