The Unintended—But Terrifying—Consequence of Anger

It seems so simple, and yet we struggle with it so much. I see it everywhere, across all ages: my high school students who lose points on a paper because they didn’t adhere to the formatting directions; my youngest PE students who choose to do their own thing rather than follow simple instructions; my own children who are often “wise in their own eyes” instead of submitting to a clear command.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. How many of God’s simple instructions do I fail to follow each day? 

So I can sympathize with Moses, who received a straightforward directive from God in Numbers 20:8:

“You and your brother Aaron are to speak to the rock while they watch, and it will yield its water.” (emphasis added)

Just talk to it. That’s all. 

Of course, we know the story. Moses doesn’t speak to the rock; instead, he speaks to (even shouts at) the people and vents his pent-up frustration by striking the stone with his staff to bring out water (vv. 10–11). By human standards, it may seem like a relatively small offense—he struck an inanimate object rather than speaking to it. Big deal. Yet it was a big deal indeed. So big, in fact, that the consequence for Moses was death before entering the promised land. Seems harsh, right? What’s up with that? 

We know the story, but perhaps we’ve forgotten God’s actual words: 

And the LORD said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not believe in me, to uphold me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” (Numbers 20:12 ESV)

Moses’ problem wasn’t his cruelty to the rock. And it wasn’t merely his anger (though that was part of it). Moses’ fatal sin was a failure to uphold the holiness of God. In our rage-riddled society, anger, outrage, and fury have become commonplace emotions—expected even. From ESPN and CNN to X and Facebook, anger craves the spotlight. 

But it’s not just out there in the public square; it shows up in my own heart as well. And while the damage is often easy to spot—conflict, hurt feelings, broken relationships—Moses’ experience reveals another, more sobering consequence: anger can lead us to misrepresent God, failing to reflect the holiness that is rightfully His.

Failing to Treat God as Holy 

Anytime we see holiness and failure in the same sentence, trouble is likely close at hand. But what did God mean when He said Moses didn’t uphold Him as holy? Though it may feel obscure to us, God’s meaning probably would have been clear to Moses. In His indictment, Yahweh uses a word that appears dozens of times in the Pentateuch, often translated consecrate or “set apart as holy.” From his time on Mount Sinai, Moses has been consecrating people and objects alike: 

• The firstborn (Ex. 13:2)
• The people (Ex. 19:14)
• Mount Sinai (Ex. 19:23)
• The priests (Ex. 28:41; 29:1)
• The altar (Ex. 29:37; Lev. 8:15)
• The Sabbath (Ex. 20:8)
• The tabernacle (Ex. 40:9; Lev. 8:10)

You get the picture. Moses knew what it meant to consecrate—to dedicate both objects and people for the service of the Lord. Yet in his anger, he failed to consecrate or treat as holy Yahweh Himself. He treated God’s holiness as ordinary or insignificant. 

Moses surely didn’t set out to do anything so high-handed or blasphemous, but he learned the hard way that this is one of anger’s most devastating consequences. And though it may not be intentional, my sinful anger does the same thing. Yours does too.

Failing to Uphold God’s Holy Sovereignty 

Sinful anger usually boils over when our pursuit of an idol is frustrated. Though these idols take many forms, our anger frequently reveals a deeper desire to take God’s place. Like Lucifer, we demand to be “like the Most High” (Isa. 14:14). We begin to believe God has failed us in some way—or that we could have done better ourselves. In those moments, we attempt to usurp His sovereignty.

This winter, our family has dealt with an onslaught of car and house problems: a broken shower pipe, electrical issues in one car and different trouble in another, leaky water lines, and a broken furnace. Add in sickness, late nights, and other stress, and you’ve got a recipe for short tempers. 

While I’d love to use all of these things as an excuse for my anger, when it comes right down to it, my anger often reveals something deeper: I am acting as though I could do God’s job better than He does. My anger pushes against His holy sovereignty as I cling tightly to my idols of control and comfort, all the while declaring, “My kingdom come. My will be done!” 

Though I would never say such a rebellious statement aloud, my anger nevertheless diminishes and distorts the sovereignty of a holy God. 

Usurping God’s Place as Holy Judge

Another reason for anger might be the actions—or even the sin—of another person. The offense may be significant or seemingly minor; it doesn’t really matter. When we believe that our rights, plans, or sensibilities have been violated, we can feel justified in spewing fury all over the other person. This may take various forms, from a cold shoulder and silent indifference to explosive rage and bitter harangues. 

In both cases, though, anger fails to uphold God as the holy Judge of men’s souls. When I take it upon myself to punish someone else—whether through my words, attitude, or thoughts—I set aside God’s authority and insert myself as the judge, jury, and executioner. In short, I’m failing to honor God’s holy right to pass judgment. 

Trampling God’s Holy Grace and Forgiveness 

Not only does my anger besmirch God’s holy sovereignty and displace Him as the rightful Judge, but it also tramples on the grace and forgiveness He bestowed upon me at the cross. Paul explains this to the Ephesians: 

Let all bitterness, anger and wrath, shouting and slander be removed from you, along with all malice. And be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving one another, just as God also forgave you in Christ. (Ephesians 4:31–32)

To put it another way, anger forgets the gospel. My wrath toward an offender assumes I deserved the grace I received—and therefore I have the right to withhold lesser grace from someone else. Whether in person or behind a screen, unloading self-righteous vitriol on another eternal soul is an egregious failure to display the magnitude of God’s grace to a watching world. 

I must admit it’s been a while since I wrote something so convicting. Were I in Moses’ sandals, I certainly wouldn’t have been allowed into the promised land either. And yet, despite my sin and anger, I am permitted to enter—not because of my own merit but because of the merit of Another.

For this reason, I can repent of my sinful anger and cling to the hope of the gospel: that God will transform my angry heart, teaching me once again to consecrate Him and lift His holiness high.