Hijacked by Anger

Good morning.

If we haven’t met, I’m Matt VanCleave, one of the pastors here at Blue Oaks.

And if you’re new with us — especially if church isn’t usually your thing — I just want to say again, we’re really glad you’re here. You picked a good week to be here.

Last week, we started a new teaching series called Hijacked.

And we talked about those moments we’ve all had — when you say something, do something, or react in a way that surprises even you.

Moments where you think, “That’s not who I want to be. That’s not how I meant to respond. What just happened to me?”

We said that what’s often happening in those moments isn’t a lack of character or effort — it’s a hijack. Something inside us takes the wheel.

And we named four internal forces that do this more than anything else:

Anger
Worry
Desire
Pride

These aren’t just “bad habits.” They’re powerful emotional forces that promise control, protection, or relief — but often end up stealing peace, relationships, and joy.

Today, we’re going to focus on the one most of us notice first.

Anger

Now, before we go any further, I want to say something really important.

This is not a sermon for “those people.”

This isn’t for the guy with road rage… or the coworker who explodes in meetings… or the parent who yells all the time.

This is for everyone.

Because every single one of us has an anger problem — it just shows up differently.

Some of us explode.
Some of us withdraw.
Some of us get sarcastic.
Some of us get passive-aggressive.
Some of us get quiet… and keep score.
And some of us are sitting here right now thinking, “I don’t really struggle with anger.”

Which probably just means you struggle with a very advanced version of it.

So you’re in the right place.

Greek philosopher Aristotle said over 2,000 years ago:

Anyone can become angry — that’s easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, in the right way — that is not easy.

When I read that, I think two things.

First, that sounds like an amazing goal.

Second, that sounds incredibly hard.

And it is.

But here’s the good news.

You don’t have to eliminate anger to grow.
You don’t have to pretend you don’t feel it.
And you don’t have to suppress it until it leaks out in toxic ways.

What you do have to learn… is how to take responsibility for it.

Because when anger takes the wheel, it doesn’t just affect one moment.

Mismanaged anger damages marriages.
It wounds children.
It ruins friendships.
It costs people jobs.
It creates emotional distance that can last for years.

And if we don’t learn how to manage it — not perfectly, but wisely — anger doesn’t just hijack moments. It hijacks lives.

So today, and again next week, we’re going to take on one of the hardest and most important challenges of the human life:

Learning how to manage anger so it doesn’t manage us.

Not by trying harder.
Not by venting.
Not by blaming.

But by understanding what’s really happening inside us — and learning how to take the wheel back.

Before we start talking about how to manage anger, we need to name something right up front.

Every person in this room has an anger problem. Every one of us.

Some of you know it. You’re very aware of it. Your anger comes out fast and loud, and you’ve probably said things you wish you could take back.

Other people in your life are aware of it too.

But for some of us, anger doesn’t show up that obviously. For some of us, anger shows up as withdrawal.

When you’re hurt or frustrated, you don’t explode — you disappear.

You shut down emotionally.
You withhold affection.
You go quiet.

For some of you, anger shows up as appeasement.

You work really hard to keep the peace.
You avoid conflict at all costs.
You smooth things over — not because everything is okay, but because anger feels dangerous to you.

For some of you, anger shows up as sarcasm.

You’re quick.
You’re funny.
Your words land — and they sting.

For others, it’s passive-aggressive.

You don’t say it directly. You just find ways to get little jabs in — ways you don’t have to own.

And for some of you, anger turns inward.

You don’t lash out at others — you beat yourself up.
You replay moments.
You stew.
You stay stuck in shame.

Different expressions. Same hijacker.

And here’s why anger is so powerful.

Anger isn’t just an emotion. Anger is energy.

When you get angry:

Adrenaline gets released
Your heart rate increases
Your blood pressure rises
Your body prepares for action

Anger is your body saying, “Something’s wrong. Something needs to be addressed.”

That’s why anger can actually be a good thing.

Jesus got angry.

Anger can motivate justice. Anger can signal that something matters.

But anger is also dangerous. Because anger gives you power before it gives you wisdom. It hands you energy before it hands you clarity.

And if anger takes the wheel before you’re thinking clearly — you will almost always regret where it takes you.

That’s why the writers of Scripture are so honest about it.

The apostle Paul says,

Be angry, and yet do not sin. (Ephesians 4:26)

In other words — Anger is inevitable. Sin is not.

And James writes:

Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires. (James 1:19-20)

Human anger — anger left to drive on its own — does not take us where we want to go.

So if anger is this powerful… and if all of us struggle with it… then the question isn’t whether anger will show up.

The question is: What stories do we tell ourselves about it once it does?

Because the way we think about anger — the assumptions we make — the excuses we give — often determine whether anger loosens its grip… or tightens it.

That’s why today I want to spend most of our time walking through five common myths about anger.

These are ideas that sound reasonable. They feel true. They float around in our culture.

But if we believe them, they quietly keep us stuck — handing the wheel back to anger again and again.

So let’s start with the first one.

Myth #1: My anger is caused by external circumstances.

When anger hits, it almost always feels like something out there caused it.

A person.
A comment.
A situation.
A delay.
A decision that didn’t go your way.

We say things like:

“You made me so mad.”
“If they hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be angry.”
“Anyone would’ve reacted that way.”

Anger feels reactive — like it just happens to us.

But here’s the truth — and this is really important: Between what happens to you and how you respond… there is always a moment of interpretation.

A story you tell yourself.
A meaning you assign.
A judgment you make.

That’s the moment anger sneaks in and grabs the wheel.

And once you see that — once you understand that anger isn’t caused by events, but by how we interpret events — everything begins to change.

Let me show you what I mean with a story from my own life.

A number of years ago, my wife and I began the process of adopting a child from Ethiopia. It took a long time — almost three years — before we were finally placed with a little boy.

At the time, our daughters were four and eight years old.

When we found out we’d been placed, we thought it would be fun to send a short video to our family and friends of our girls announcing the news.

Simple plan.

We decided to film it outside near our flower garden.

All we wanted was this: Amryn would say, “We have good news to share.” And Lily would say, “God gave us a brother.”

That’s it. 6 words. No CGI. No special effects. 6 words.

Now, at the time, Amryn — our four-year-old — was like a child actress prodigy. She could cry on command. She could switch emotions instantly. We thought this would be easy.

It was not.

The moment the camera came out, she froze.

She wasn’t defiant.
She wasn’t throwing a tantrum.
She wasn’t being disobedient.
She just… couldn’t talk.

So we filmed… and filmed… and filmed.

Twenty minutes went by. Then thirty.

And I went through the classic parenting phases.

First came the optimism phase: “This is going to be fun! We’re having fun! Everyone’s having fun!”

That phase has a very short shelf life.

Then came the bribery phase: “If we get a good video, we can have ice cream. Chocolate syrup. Whipped cream. Sprinkles. Whatever you want.”

That didn’t work. Which led to the threatening phase: “I told you to smile and say 6 words. That’s all you have to do.”

And at some point — and I’m not proud of this — I said something along the lines of,
“You want to cry? I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Which, by the way, is a phrase you’re not allowed to say until you’ve completed graduate-level parenting courses.

At this point, nobody’s smiling. Not me. Not my wife. Not Lily.

And Amryn is completely overwhelmed.

So I pulled her aside. She’s crying. Trying to regain her composure.

And I had one of those rare moments of parental brilliance.

I said, “Amryn… you’re not happy, are you?”

That’s called empathy. I had to go to school for a long time to learn that.

She shook her head.

And then I said, “I bet I know what you want right now. I bet more than anything in the world, you wish you had Derek.”

Derek was her favorite stuffed animal — a Build-A-Bear her grandma helped her make.

He had an Oakland Raiders jersey. She named him after Derek Carr. She loved that bear.

Big tears. Bottom lip out so far a bird could land on it. She just nodded.

And then — and I wish I were making this up — I said: “Well Amryn… if you ever want to see Derek alive again…”

Go ahead and laugh. You’ve been there too.

Now here’s the question. Did my four-year-old daughter make me angry? Of course not.

What actually happened was this: In my mind, a story was playing.

“I’m busy.”
“I’m important.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“This is out of control.”
“She’s being immature.”
“I shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Those thoughts came before the anger.

The situation didn’t hijack me. My interpretation did.

I could have told myself a different story.

“She’s four.”
“This is new and scary.”
“She’s overwhelmed.”
“This is a chance to be patient.”

Different thoughts would have led to different feelings — and very different behavior.

Here’s the truth, and it’s uncomfortable — but it’s freeing.

Other people don’t make you angry. Circumstances don’t make you angry. You make you angry.

Your interpretation.
Your internal narrative.
Your story about what’s happening.

That’s where anger gets its foothold.

So I want us to say something together — out loud — just to make sure it sticks. Say this with me:

“I make me so mad.”

Say it again.

“I make me so mad.”

Now, please don’t take this too far. Don’t try this in the middle of a heated argument. Don’t look someone in the eye, point your finger at them, and say, “I make me so mad!” That will not help your marriage.

But here’s why this matters.

As long as anger feels like something that happens to you, you’ll always be its victim.

But the moment you take responsibility — not blame, but responsibility — you take the wheel back. And that’s where change becomes possible.

Alright, let’s look at myth number 2:

Myth #2: I just can’t control my anger.

A lot of people believe this one.

“My anger is just too strong.”
“Once it hits, I can’t stop it.”
“That’s just how I am.”

And because anger feels so powerful, this myth sounds believable. But it isn’t true.

Anger is powerful — but it is not uncontrollable.

If it were, none of us would ever be able to stop ourselves once we were angry.

But we do. All the time.

Let me prove it to you.

Picture two people in a heated argument.

Voices are raised, words are flying, things are right on the edge.

And then the phone rings.

One of them looks down, sees the caller ID, and says, “Hold on… I need to take this.”

And suddenly — magically — the anger disappears.

“Hello! Oh hey! So good to hear from you!”

Same person, same anger, same body, different choice.

What changed wasn’t the emotion. What changed was the stakes.

When the moment mattered enough, control was possible.

And this tells us something really important — anger doesn’t remove your ability to choose.

It narrows it… It pressures you… It pushes you… But it does not eliminate responsibility.

That’s why the writers of Scripture talk about anger the way they do.

The writer of Scripture never say, “Don’t feel angry.”

They say,“Be angry — and do not sin.”

In other words: Anger is inevitable. Sin is optional.

The writer of Proverbs put it bluntly:

Fools give full vent to their anger, but the wise bring calm in the end. (Proverbs 29:11)

The writer of Proverbs isn’t saying fools feel anger and wise people don’t. He’s saying fools hand the wheel over to it.

The wise learn how to stay present — even when anger is loud.

And this is really important: Managing anger is not a personality trait. It’s a learned skill.

Which means if you’ve learned unhealthy ways of expressing anger — and most of us have — those patterns can be unlearned.

Think about athletes. Athletes deal with anger all the time. Frustration… Adrenaline… Pressure. If they don’t learn how to manage it, they self-destruct.

Now, research shows that among all athletes, golfers are the worst at anger management.

That’s not actually true. I just made that up.

But it made some of you angry, didn’t it?

There was a golfer named Tommy Bolt who was famous for having one of the worst tempers in golf history.

He was giving a lesson once, and his eleven-year-old son was with him.

Tommy wanted to demonstrate what to do when your ball lands in a sand trap. So he tossed a ball into the sand and said to his son, “Son, show the people what you’ve learned from your father when a ball lands in the bunker.”

His son grabbed a club… and threw it as hard as he could.

That’s what he had learned.

How you express anger is learned.

And what’s learned can be relearned.

That’s why the first step in taking the wheel back is this: You have to take responsibility for your anger.

Never again blaming your reaction on another person. Never again saying, “They made me do it.”

You didn’t cause the feeling — but you are responsible for what you do with it.

And the second step is just as important: You must become a student of anger.

An apprentice. Someone willing to learn new responses.

That might mean reading. It might mean counseling. It might mean practicing different words, or different pauses, or different reactions. But it always starts with this decision: “I’m not letting anger drive anymore.”

Alright let’s move on to myth number 3:

Myth #3: The best way to handle anger is to let it fly.

A lot of us were taught this one — either directly or indirectly.

It goes something like this:

“When you’re angry, you just need to get it out.”
“Don’t bottle it up.”
“Blow off some steam.”
“Vent.”

The idea is that anger is like pressure inside a kettle. If you don’t release it, it’s going to explode.

So the healthiest thing you can do — or so we were told — is to let it fly.

Yell.
Hit something.
Say what you feel.
Unload.

Now, when I was growing up, psychology was not particularly helpful on this one. This approach became known as the ventilation theory of anger.

And the theory was simple: Anger builds up inside you. If you don’t release it, it becomes unhealthy. So you need to discharge it — physically or verbally.

The problem is… that’s not how anger actually works.

Let me ask you a question. Why do we think this about anger — but not about other emotions?

No one says: “I’ve been repressing joy for years. People have been telling jokes, and I’ve been holding back laughter. And now I’ve got this dangerous reservoir of joy inside me. One day it’s just going to burst, and I’m going to spew joy all over strangers.”

Therapists don’t warn people: “You’d better get in touch with your gratitude. You’ve got gratitude all bottled up inside, and if you don’t release it soon, you’re going to explode with thankfulness.”

We don’t think this way about other emotions. Only anger.

And here’s what researchers have discovered — and this surprised a lot of people.

Venting anger doesn’t drain it. It feeds it.

Venting feels powerful… It feels energizing… It feels satisfying.

And because it feels good in the moment, your brain learns: This works.

So the next time you’re angry, you vent again. And again. And pretty soon, anger becomes self-reinforcing.

You’re not releasing pressure. You’re building a habit.

There’s another problem with ventilation. And this one is obvious once you think about it.

People do not enjoy being ventilated on.

The ventilator may feel better. The ventilatee does not.

Think about this scene.

One driver feels like they’ve been cut off in traffic. They pull up next to the other car, roll down the window, and say something like: “What kind of idiot are you?! Are you trying to kill someone?!”

And the other driver says, “You know what — thank you. That really helped. I’ve been thinking about my driving lately, and your yelling has inspired me to change.”

That never happens.

Venting doesn’t produce insight. It doesn’t produce repentance. It doesn’t produce reconciliation.

It produces defensiveness — or fear — or retaliation.

And here’s the most important thing to understand. When you vent thoughtlessly, you’re not managing anger. You’re letting anger drive. You’ve handed the wheel to the very thing you’re trying to deal with.

Now, let me be really clear — this does not mean you should ignore your anger. It does not mean you should pretend you don’t feel it. And it does not mean you should never express anger.

Some of you actually need to learn how to express anger more honestly and directly.

But there’s a difference between: expressing anger thoughtfully and unleashing it impulsively.

One is courageous. The other is hijacked.

And the research is incredibly clear on this. Decades of studies — dozens of them — show the same thing: thoughtlessly letting anger fly does not reduce anger. It multiplies it.

So if your strategy has been: “I just say whatever I’m feeling and then I feel better” — that’s not anger management. That’s anger practice.

Alright, myth number 4 is this:

Myth #4: Talking it out with a third party will fix my anger.

When people realize that venting directly isn’t healthy, they often choose what feels like a much wiser option. They don’t unload on the person they’re angry with. Instead, they go talk to someone else.

A friend.
A coworker.
A spouse.
A small group member.
A therapist.

And they tell that person all about what happened.

How unfair it was.
How hurtful it was.
How wrong the other person was.

And here’s the thing — it often does feel better.

You feel understood.
You feel validated.
You feel supported.

And because it feels better, we assume it must be helping. But here’s what research — and experience — has shown.

Talking about anger this way doesn’t usually reduce it. It rehearses it.

The more you tell the story, the more justified you feel. The more you replay the details, the more certain you become that you’re right.

And by the end of the conversation, you’re often more angry than when you started — not less.

Because anger grows when it’s rehearsed.

Now, let me pause here and say something very clearly. This does not mean you should never talk to anyone about your anger.

For some of you, talking with a trained counselor or therapist has been — or will be — one of the healthiest steps you ever take. It has been for me.

But the difference is this: Are you talking in order to understand and manage your anger? Or are you talking in order to justify and rehearse it?

One leads to freedom. The other quietly hands the wheel back to anger.

That’s why Jesus’ wisdom here is so practical. In Matthew 18, Jesus says that when you have unresolved anger or conflict, the first step — if it’s possible — is to go directly and privately to the person involved.

Not to escalate… Not to recruit allies… Not to build a case… But to pursue resolution.

Now, that doesn’t mean you don’t prepare. For some of you, you absolutely should talk with a wise third party first — not to rehearse the offense, but to think through:

What you want to say… how you want to say it… and what outcome you’re hoping for.

But the goal is always the same: Restoration. Not rehearsal.

Because when anger never moves toward resolution, it doesn’t go away. It just festers.

Let me give you more myth. I said there were four myths. This one’s a bonus — free of charge.

Bonus Myth: Never feeling angry means I’m mature.

Some people believe that never feeling angry is a sign of emotional or spiritual maturity.

It’s not.

Do you know what never feeling angry is usually a sign of?

Death.

People who are alive feel anger. Anger itself is not the problem. Anger is part of being human.

The question isn’t whether you feel it. The question is what you do with it.

Suppressing anger doesn’t make you holy. Denying anger doesn’t make you wise. It just means anger finds other ways to come out.

Through sarcasm.
Through withdrawal.
Through anxiety.
Through control.

Anger always expresses itself.

The only question is whether it expresses itself destructively or redemptively.

Now, I want you to imagine something with me.

Imagine what your life would be like if anger didn’t take the wheel.

Imagine moving through traffic, deadlines, and interruptions with an inner sense of calm — not because nothing ever goes wrong, but because you’re not facing it alone.

Imagine being in conflict and staying present — not exploding, not shutting down.

Imagine never again having to say: “I wish I could take that back.”

Imagine your children never looking at you with fear in their eyes.

Imagine your marriage — or friendships — being warm instead of cold.

Imagine people leaving conversations with you feeling understood instead of wounded.

Imagine being someone who brings peace into tense spaces.

That kind of life is possible. Not because you eliminate anger — but because you learn to manage it wisely.

And next week, we’ll build on everything we’ve talked about today and get very practical.

Not about suppressing anger. But about how to express it in ways that lead to life, not damage.

So as we wrap up today, I want to remind you of something important — the goal here is not that you leave feeling bad about your anger. Guilt doesn’t heal anything. Shame doesn’t change anyone.

The goal is awareness.

Because the moment you become aware of what’s happening inside you, you begin to take the wheel back.

Anger will show up. It always does. The question isn’t whether you feel it. The question is whether you let it drive.

So this week, your practice is simple. When you feel anger rising — when your body tightens, when the story in your head starts playing — pause. Even if it’s just a quarter of a second.

And ask one honest question: “Holy Spirit, what’s really going on in me right now?”

You may not get it right every time. You will mess up at times. But every moment of awareness is progress.

And when you fail — because you will — remember this: Failure doesn’t disqualify you. It just shows you where grace is needed next.

Next week, we’ll get very practical. We’ll talk about how to express anger in ways that are honest, healthy, and redemptive — not explosive, not passive, and not destructive.

So if anger has been hijacking your relationships, your peace, or your faith… don’t miss next week.

Alright, pray with me as the worship team comes to lead us in a closing song.

Prayer

As we move toward communion, I want to slow us down for just a moment. Because communion is one of the few practices Jesus gave us that actually interrupts the hijack.

Anger speeds us up. It narrows our vision. It pulls us into our own story — what was done to me, what I deserve, why I’m right.

Communion does the opposite. It slows us down. It widens our perspective. And it invites us back into God’s story.

The night before Jesus was crucified, he sat at a table with his closest friends. And that table was full of unresolved anger.

Betrayal.
Denial.
Fear.
Pride.
Failure.

And yet, Jesus didn’t avoid the table. He didn’t lecture them. He didn’t shame them. He didn’t say, “Let’s fix all of this first.”

Instead, he took bread… and he took a cup… and he gave himself.

What’s remarkable is this: Jesus had every reason to be angry. If anyone ever had the right to lash out, to withdraw, to defend himself — it was him.

And yet, instead of letting anger take the wheel, Jesus chose love.

Not because it was easy… Not because it didn’t cost him anything… But because love was stronger.

On the cross, while real enemies were mocking him and hurting him, Jesus prayed: “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

That’s not suppressed anger. That’s a renewed mind. That’s what it looks like when love stays in the driver’s seat.

So as we take communion today, this isn’t a moment for pretending. This is a moment for honesty.

If you’re angry — you’re not disqualified.
If you’re struggling — you’re not excluded.
If you’ve handed the wheel to anger more times than you can count — you’re in the right place.

Communion isn’t for people who have mastered anger. It’s for people who are learning to surrender it.

As you take the bread, remember his body — given for you. As you take the cup, remember his blood — poured out for you.

And if you want, you might simply pray something like this in your own words: “Jesus, I give you the anger I’ve been holding onto. I trust you with the wheel.”

If you’re not ready to take communion today, that’s okay. No one is watching. No one is keeping score. You’re welcome to stay seated and reflect.

But for those who are ready, come forward and receive the communion elements.