| Luke 9:54 – “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” |
If you pause and listen—even for a moment—you’ll hear it.
It’s the voice of anger.
Rage, it seems, is all the rage.
Scroll through social media and you’ll see it pouring out—righteous indignation over politics, harsh words over headlines, a constant stream of offense. Drivers honk with impatience. Families drift apart as petty disagreements erupt into full-blown feuds.
Anger is everywhere. And it’s eating us alive.
Mark Twain once wrote:
“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”
So, is there a better way?
Oddly enough, one answer comes from a Roman emperor—Marcus Aurelius.
Toward the end of his life, Marcus grew ill. It was clear he was dying. And while he was weakened by sickness, devastating news arrived: his most trusted general, Avidius Cassius, had rebelled.
Cassius had declared himself emperor in Syria and was preparing to seize power by force.
Most rulers would have reacted with fury—anger justified by betrayal, vengeance wrapped in royal duty. But not Marcus. He didn’t even tell his troops, knowing their outrage would spark violence.
Instead, Marcus called a council and announced they would march—not to crush Cassius, but to win a different kind of victory.
He described it like this:
“To forgive a man who has wronged one, to remain a friend to one who has transgressed friendship, to continue faithful to one who has broken faith.”
His aim wasn’t to destroy Cassius—it was to extend mercy.
That kind of strength—gentle, quiet, and self-controlled—is rare.
We usually go the other way. When someone offends us, we want to get even. When we’re irritated, we want to lash out. When we’re tired and hurting, we want someone to blame.
Even Jesus’ own disciples fell into that trap.
In Luke 9, Jesus is exhausted. He has taught, healed, and carried the weight of the world. As he and his disciples travel through Samaritan territory on the way to Jerusalem, he needs just a little compassion—a place to rest, eat, wash his feet.
But the Samaritans shut their doors.
James and John—nicknamed the “Sons of Thunder” for good reason—have had enough.
“Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” (Luke 9:54, NIV)
That was their solution: Burn it down.
But Jesus… rebukes them. He doesn’t retaliate. He doesn’t rage.
He just moves on.
And that’s often the wisest thing we can do.
The truth is, most of what makes us angry isn’t worth the trouble. It’s not worth the damage it causes to our peace, our relationships, or our souls.
Letting go doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened.
It means choosing mercy over mayhem.
It means remembering that most people who offend us don’t need our wrath—they need our grace.
So today, ask yourself:
What’s weighing you down?
What offense are you still carrying?
What irritation keeps sparking in your soul?
Maybe it’s time to do what Marcus Aurelius did.
What Jesus showed us.
Let it go.
You might just find that the real victory is in the forgiveness.
–Robert G. Taylor
robertgtaylor.com
