Theologian Meggan Watterson describes the source of what she calls “sacred rage”:
There’s a rage that gives us clarity about when our boundaries are being crossed, a rage that gives us critical information that we’re in danger, that someone is harming us or someone we love. There’s a rage that demonstrates to us how interconnected we are, for example when we feel rage while witnessing an injustice….
Seeing George Floyd murdered was something we all witnessed collectively because seventeen-year-old Darnella Frazier refused to leave his side, refused to listen to the police officers who told her to move on, and instead remained, and filmed on her iPhone the murder that would reignite social justice movements all over the globe. This form of rage is sacred. It’s a rage that clarifies what we care most about in this world, about what we will put our bodies on the line to stand up for. The distinction is that we let this sacred rage motivate us into action, but when we act we move from love.
Watterson compares sacred rage with rage that seeks to cause harm.
It’s the rage of revenge. The rage of trying to get even. It’s the rage of an endless cycle of retaliation. It’s the rage that can compel us to act in ways we will regret for the rest of our lives, or that will cost us our lives or someone else’s. It’s the rage that refuses mercy. It’s the rage that keeps us up at night locked in a horrific egoic struggle going over again and again a betrayal, a terrible wrong someone has caused us.
And it’s a rage that thinks it’s right…. That we have every right to cause harm to someone who has harmed us. That we have every right to get all caught up in the ego, in our own tiny window of perception about some person, that we get to take our rage out on them.
Watterson affirms our inherent goodness as the source of both rage and healing:
Rage and goodness are not mutually exclusive. Rage is often necessary in order to draw fierce boundaries when we or those we love or those we feel connected to are being harmed. And rage is necessary to remind us of our innate goodness. We’re angry because we are good, because we recognize, we know innately, what is good. Rage, like a slow controlled burn, can fuel and inform us….
Rage is information. Rage is not an action plan. Rage holds no answers for what’s next. And it can quickly galvanize action. Yet, if we act only from that rage, if we move the way rage wants us to move, we will cause harm to ourselves and others. So when we go to take action, we must first intentionally return to love. Rage informs us about what we love, and love moves us to act in ways only love knows.
Reference:
Excerpted from The Girl Who Baptized Herself by Meggan Watterson. Copyright ©2025 by Meggan Watterson. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt (149–150, 174–175) may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Image Credit and inspiration: Ricardo IV Tamayo, untitled (detail), 2021, photo, Cuba, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Together, we hold the flowering of compassionate action, remembering our shared humanity and deep connection to one another and all of creation.
Story from Our Community:
When my 30-year government career ended with a demotion, I entered retirement with feelings of rage and failure. But after joining a course at my church, a Christian meditation group, and engaging in lots of exercise, I have been able to give myself the space to grieve this and other significant losses, including my children leaving home. I have acknowledged my behavior and my shadow self, which led to a lack of career progression. This has freed me to listen more effectively, which is improving my relationships. I am slowly becoming more able to live with gratitude for my life. I’m grateful for every morning I am able to sit out on my porch with a cup of tea, and every forest hike I take with my husband.
—Melanie M.
