Deacon NewsomeA lot of people are angry today, about a lot of different things. Some of that anger is justified. Some of it is not. Thus has it ever been.
My purpose here is not to talk about this or that thing that may make us angry, but to reflect on how we should deal with anger from a spiritual perspective.
It’s tricky business. Wrath, we are taught, is one of the seven deadly sins. But anger is an emotion. Emotions are not sins, but things we experience. We are not morally responsible for the feelings we have because we don’t choose them; but we are responsible for how we respond to them.
Anger is a powerful emotion, so we must be especially careful when it comes to how we choose to act when we are angry. Unless the situation demands an immediate response, in most cases the prudent course will be to delay action until our anger subsides so that we can approach things with a cool head.
What purpose does anger serve? One may wonder why God would give us such a powerful and troubling emotion. The feeling of anger is a natural response to injustice, whether real or perceived. In that sense, anger can be good, functioning like pain in the body, alerting us to the fact that something is wrong.
Justice is the virtue of doing the right thing, what the Catechism calls “the constant and firm will to give their due to God and neighbor” (CCC 1807). Injustice occurs when someone acts in a way contrary to the good of others, or that disregards their natural rights and human dignity. Addressing a matter of injustice often requires courage and may involve some real risk on our part.
A powerful emotion like anger can provide the motivation we need to stand up for what is right even if it costs us. This is how healthy anger is meant to function.
While there is such a thing as righteous anger, the problem is, as St. Francis de Sales observes in his Introduction to the Devout Life, everyone believes their anger to be righteous! “No angry man,” he writes, “ever thinks his anger is unjust.” As our emotions are not infallible, we must be on guard against making such presumptions. What if the injustice we perceive is false? What if what angers us is not an offense against justice, but an offense against our pride?
Anger is a powerful motivator, but a reckless driver. If our heart is troubled by anger, it is important not to permit our emotions to sit in the driver’s seat. Our actions should be directed by reason rather than feeling. Our emotions inform us but should not control us. Evaluating our emotions objectively is difficult but it is something we can learn to do.
When we experience anger, there are helpful questions we should ask. First, why am I angry? Sometimes the cause is obvious, but other times it may be less apparent. The experience of trauma or loss may cause us to feel a general anger that is directed at no person in particular. This is a natural part of the grieving process and can be helped by counseling, therapy and time.
As we deal with anger that stems from woundedness, we should make every effort not to allow our anger to become an excuse to treat others uncharitably.
Anger can also be the result of wounded pride. It is important for us to ask: Are those I am angry with truly acting unjustly, or merely not doing things the way I would have them done? The remedy for prideful anger is to practice the virtue of humility. There is a powerful Litany of Humility prayer, composed by Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val, that includes petitions such as, “From the desire of being consulted, deliver me Jesus. From the desire of being approved, deliver me Jesus.”
What if our anger is a valid response to injustice? Even then, we must ask ourselves a further question: Am I in a position to do anything about it? If it involves a situation in our personal lives, we may be able to do something to resolve the matter. In that case, our actions should still be directed by justice and charity, never anger itself. If we cannot reasonably resolve the matter, then our anger serves no further purpose. We should therefore let it go and entrust the situation to God. This holds true any time we are angry over situations beyond our personal control.
anger as a tool of manipulation
A particular malady of our time is the immediate access we have to news reports, commentary and opinion, much of which is negative. Politicians and media moguls alike figured out long ago how to capitalize on anger. Those with a vested interest in motivating us to buy their papers, click on their links or vote a certain way often use anger as a tool of manipulation.
It is spiritually damaging for us to be confronted with a non-stop barrage of evil news we are in no position to do anything about. This can leave us feeling not only angry, but helpless, leading to despair. Unless we are in a position to positively impact a situation, it is best to entrust these broader concerns to God’s loving providence and let go of our anger before it becomes a cancer in our hearts, festering into bitterness and hatred.
The scriptures tell us “be angry, but do not sin” (Eph 4:26). The emotion of anger becomes the sin of wrath when we latch onto it, nurture it, and allow it to take root in our heart. Anger can be like a powerful drug; we can become addicted to it.
St. Francis de Sales, by his own admission, struggled with a hot temper. Being aware of this aspect of his temperament, he made an intentional effort to always act with gentleness toward others, so much so that gentleness became his defining trait. His life stands as testimony that even something as strong as anger can be overcome through a combination of discipline and grace.
Jesus experienced righteous anger, as when He drove the money changers from the temple, but He always acted with justice and mercy. Let Christ therefore be our model. Our Lord warns us that whoever is angry with his brother is liable to judgment (Mt 5:22), and also invites us to “learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart” (Mt 11:29).
When anger rears its ugly head, may we seek refuge in the heart of Jesus and pray, “Lord, make my heart like unto Thine.”
Deacon Matthew Newsome, Catholic campus minister at Western Carolina University and regional faith formation coordinator for the Smoky Mountain Vicariate, is the author of “The Devout Life: A Modern Guide to Practical Holiness with St. Francis de Sales,” available from Sophia Institute Press.

BOONE — Aleksandra Banasik was rebellious from an early age. Although she lived in Poland under communism, an ideology which from the 1940s to 1980s strongly limited religious freedom, her mother imposed strict rules: she had to attend Mass every Sunday and report what the priest said in his homily to ensure she really had gone.
But Banasik had her own plan.
“I would stay just to hear the first words of the homily, to get an idea of what it was about, and then my friends and I would go to the cinema,” she remembered with laughter. “My mother never found out.”
Today, Banasik works as Hispanic Vicariate coordinator, or region of the diocese, in Boone. She recognizes that it was the Holy Spirit who guided her life from rebellion toward an extraordinary friendship with a saint: Pope St. John Paul II.

Beginnings of Divine Providence
At 18, Banasik was a curious young woman who wanted to discover the world. Through her relationship with some nuns, she got the opportunity to study at a Catholic school for girls in England. It was her first exposure to an environment in which she lived with young women from different countries and cultures.
There, however, she felt lonely. “I was far from my family, and I couldn’t even call my mom,” she recalled. “But it was in the midst of that loneliness that I discovered God.”
She came from a working class family, and many of the girls were from wealthy families. What struck her most, however, weren’t the material differences, but the spiritual ones. Banasik maintained her daily prayers before meals and at bedtime, and that awakened curiosity.
“I didn’t know much about the Church, but I knew I had to pray,” she said. “The girls asked me: ‘Why do you pray?’ And that was difficult… because I didn’t have an answer.”
It was at that moment that something in her sparked. She realized she couldn’t justify what she believed, and that shook her deeply.
“I had to know how to defend my practices,” she says. “So I decided I was going to go to university to study theology.”
Back in Poland, she enrolled in the Pontifical University of Kraków. There she began a new stage, full of study, formation and providential encounters.

Encountering the future Holy Father
During her university years in Kraków, Aleksandra met then Cardinal Karol Wojtyła, the future Pope St. John Paul II. He was close to the students, with whom he often shared meals and conversations.
“I had the opportunity to share many dinners with him at the university,” Banasik said.
They had much in common. “One of the things I remember most about him was his love of singing,” Banasik said, recalling how she sang with a student group.
Despite the difficult situation that Poland was in under communism, Wojtyła encouraged young people to live the faith courageously. He promoted organizing Masses and pilgrimages despite the regime’s restrictions.
“He was an excellent leader of the diocese at that time,” Banasik reflected. “He would tell us: ‘Do not be afraid, open the doors.’”
She also remembers his deep Marian devotion: “He offered his life to the Blessed Mother.”

A providential surprise
A year later, Banasik received news that left her speechless: her beloved cardinal had been elected pope. On October 16, 1978, Karol Wojtyła became John Paul II, the first non Italian pope in more than 400 years.
“When I saw that it was him, I couldn’t believe it,” Banasik says.
In July 1979, John Paul II visited Kraków. Amid the crowd that came to see him was Banasik, who saw him pass in his popemobile, dressed in white.
“It was a historic event for Poland,” she recalled. It would not be the last time she saw him up close.

A leap of faith: Heading to Rome
After studying for a year and a half in Kraków, Banasik felt the call to continue her formation in Rome at the Pontificia Università Urbaniana. She was accepted but she did not have a student visa.
“I had travelled with a tourist visa, and I didn’t know how the formalities worked,” she recounts. “Everyone told me I wouldn’t be able to get the visa, but I had faith that God would help me.”
She presented herself at the immigration office with that conviction. “With God’s help, I will get the student visa,” she said. The official, surprised, responded with a laugh: “Really?” Banasik answered, “Yes.”
The incredible happened: the official stepped away and returned with her passport stamped with the student visa. “It was a moment of grace. God is great,” she said.

A paternal relationship
In Rome, Banasik and other students lived at Castel Gandolfo in a school apartment, next to the gardens of the pope’s summer residence. As Banasik became more involved with the university, she met a Polish bishop who invited her and another student to attend a private audience with the Pope for the first time, held in the garden of his summer residence.
She clearly recalls the moment when the pope first saw her in Rome. “His expression changed. Then he approached me and greeted me in Polish, something he did not usually do. He spoke to me as though I were his daughter,” Banasik recalled.
From that moment, their relationship deepened. The pope became interested in her studies and her life in Rome.
“He would tell me: ‘Keep studying. After each exam, you have to come and tell me how it went,’” Banasik said. Later, thanks to her friendship with photographer Arturo Mari, she was able to attend many more papal audiences and share numerous moments with the Pope.
That closeness was vital for Banasik, who was far from home. “From that moment, the pope took the place of my father. He knew I was alone and showed a very real paternal concern.”
On one occasion, during an audience, the pope pointed her out among the crowd and said: “She is my little girl.”
“Every time we talked, he listened attentively. He always was like a father to me,” she remembered.

A Life Grounded in Faith
Banasik continued her studies, finished her master’s degree in theology and eventually married a fellow student from Mexico in Rome. The day following her marriage Pope John Paul II personally went to bless their marriage. Her children also had the opportunity to grow up near the pope, seeing his constant example of humility and service.
They lived in Rome for 12 years, until God called them to serve in Mexico. However, until the Pope’s death in 2005, the family remained close to him.
“We had many blessings for being so close to the pope,” Banasik said. “And now he still lives in my heart as a saint. I always ask for his intercession.”
— Brian Segovia
