Have you ever been angry with God? I have. As I write this, I hear gasps from many well meaning Christians and the nonsense that sometimes come from us Christians, "You shouldn't be mad at God." "It's not right to be mad at God." "Being angry with God is a sin." Nevertheless, I have been angry with God.

I think my anger started during my childhood years when I tried to get saved. By reading my Bible and praying each night, I hoped God would come into my life. Even though I asked, I didn't feel anything happen. So I assumed God had rejected my request. I felt as though God had rejected me.

I made this reading and prayer a part of my nightly routine for over five years. Each night I grew more fearful that God had rejected me. I grew more angry, even to the point of hatred toward God. So at the age of 15, I decided to rebel deliberately. The teen years have enough difficulty, but I added intentional rebellion. Here's why.

Whenever our pastor invited someone to share their testimony, they always told stories of immorality, alcohol, drug use, imprisonment. In short, I heard about rebellion and salvation. The person would speak almost favorably about the years of rebellion giving all kinds of sordid details. Then during the last thirty seconds, as almost an after-thought, they would mention getting saved. So at the age of fifteen, I made my decision. I had heard it many times. If I wanted to get saved, I would have to live a sinful life first.

So I made up my mind to stop cooperating in youth group and Sunday School and become disruptive. I would have to stop obeying my parents. I would have to stop trying to become a responsible and respected member of society. Instead, I would deliberately begin doing all the things I knew were wrong. That way, I could force God's hand to eventually save me. Needless to say, ethically and morally, my teen years went down the toilet.

At the age of nineteen, I finally met Jesus while at college. My anger toward God did not go away. My parents and church had taught me that anger was bad and especially anger toward God. So I pretended not to be angry. I pretended to be happy.

For years I read my Bible and prayed. I attended church. I grew in my faith. I tithed and gave beyond the tithe by supporting many other ministries. I married my high school sweetheart, finished college, and moved to Kentucky to begin seminary.

About seven years after getting saved, while in my third year of seminary training, my anger came to a boiling point. If I had been honest with you at that time, I had more hatred in my heart toward God than any inkling of love.

That night I had finished studying at the library and had begun to walk home in the rain. Hunched over to protect my books with no umbrella, I hurried over the quarter-mile to our trailer through the pounding rain. Halfway through the parking lot, I stepped in a puddle and just one foot got wet. This annoyed me and I became angry. Now whenever I would become angry, I would quickly replay those mental-memory tapes from my younger days.

When I would become angry I would demand answers from God, "Where were you? I wanted you. You rejected me. I don't understand. You could have had someone speak to me. You could have helped me. You helped others but just left me hanging." Those words of blame and ridicule usually went through my head whenever I became angry. Only that particular night would be very different. On that particular night, God decided to answer me.

As I went off on my usual tirade, God spoke to my soul, "Do you really want the answer?" Immediately I was a little taken back, but my fury quickly recovered, "You bet I want the answer. Where were you?" He then baited me, "You're not going to like the answer." To which I replied, "I don't care. I want to know." God then spoke again, "Ted, you were so full of pride that you wouldn't ask anyone for help."

In the next fraction of a moment, I realized the truth about his statement and responded, "Father, forgive me." Then I had the most fascinating experience. If you have ever taken a garden hose and sprayed the mud off of a wall and watched it disappear into the ground, it was as if the Holy Spirit came and just washed me clean of all the bitterness, rage, resentment, and hatred that I had built upon the anger. In that moment, in the driving rain, with one foot sloshing at every other step, hunkered over a pile of books, God met me in the single most holy moment of my life.

In a moment, I discovered what it means to be clean and holy before God. I also learned what King David meant in Psalm 51:6 when he writes that God desires truth in the innermost parts.

I began to understand what the Apostle Paul meant in Ephesians 4:26 when he commanded us to be angry but to avoid sin. I began to realize anger could not be sinful if we are commanded to be angry. I came to realize that the sin was in how I expressed my anger.

The most important thing I learned is that God is not impressed with how well I fake my faith. He wants honesty from me. He and I had a barrier between us because of my refusal to speak to him candidly about my rage and hatred for him. Because of my refusal, he and I could never deal with this problem in our relationship. All of this grew out of my pride. As He said, I was so full of pride that I would not ask anyone for help.

I've been a pastor for eighteen years now. I am not the only Christian who has faked his or her faith. I am not the only one who has ever covered over rage toward God and has piously pretended it is not there. I am not the only one who has had barriers in their relationship with God. And I am not the only one to have been so full of pride that I would not ask for help.

I turned away from my pride that night. I asked God to forgive me. And I began asking some trusted Christians for help. Most of them could not help because of their own problems with hiding from God. I did not give up, however, but kept on asking for help until I found a couple of friends who could help me.

I will share more with you later about how we get angry with God.

Rev. Ted Beam