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Walking the Arc of Righteous Anger

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By Jeff Stukey, October 2025

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I didn't realize it at the time, but the greatest danger wasn't my anger. It was what that anger was slowly becoming.

In April 2024, my wife Margaret and I began a journey prompted by real anger over what was happening to immigrants in our country. That anger has not disappeared. Instead, God has been reshaping it into something redemptive, something that burns cleaner and points toward love. I captured that journey in a poem called The Arc of Righteous Anger. It traces the movement from fiery outrage to faithful obedience, from clenched fists to open hands, from wrath to love. The poem became a mirror for what God was doing inside me.

The Fire Rises
When I wrote in the poem, "I felt the fire rise. Hot. Swift." that was exactly where I was. I was not merely concerned about immigration policy. I was outraged. Conversations with Christian friends sometimes carried a tone of contempt toward immigrants that left me heartsick. It felt as though something sacred was being forgotten: after all, every person bears the image of God.

At first, I told myself it was righteous anger. Jesus overturned tables in the temple. Surely anger had its place. But slowly my anger changed. It stopped being directed primarily at injustice and became directed toward people who did not seem to care.

Then came a painful realization.

Contempt is an equal-opportunity destroyer. Whether aimed at immigrants or at those who don’t care about our immigrant neighbors, contempt always blurs the image of God in another person. Even more unsettling, it was beginning to blur the image of God in me.

That is when I sensed the Lord whisper something surprisingly simple: "Go and see what is happening at our southern border." Don’t argue. Don’t post. Don’t persuade. Just go. So, Margaret and I went to El Paso.

The Micro Arc
That trip became a small version of the larger journey from outrage to obedience. We did not go with answers. We went with questions. We returned with a new calling!

At shelters in El Paso and across the border in Juárez, we met families who had lost almost everything yet carried remarkable grace. We met volunteers who served quietly, without pride or judgment. Somewhere in those encounters I stopped seeing "the immigration issue" and started seeing faces, names, and stories. I discovered that the people I thought I was going to help were in many ways helping me.

The anger did not disappear. It was purified. As the poem says: 

Not rage, but resolve. 
Not fury, but clarity. 
I saw what broke God's heart, 
and it burned in mine, 
not to destroy, but to redeem.

Going to El Paso was not dramatic. It was simply the next right thing. That single act of obedience reshaped my heart and quietly prepared me for what God would do next.

The Macro Arc
When we returned home, I assumed the journey would lead us back to the border to care for immigrants. Instead, God surprised me. Conversations at church led to new relationships. Ortiz Elementary school, which is predominantly Hispanic, became part of our lives. Friendships formed across cultural lines. Volunteers began reading with children. Meals were shared. Needs were met. Gradually I realized that the border was not only a thousand miles away. It was also just twenty minutes from my house.

One faithful step led to another and Ambassadors of Dignity was born. I never intended to start an organization. I simply kept saying yes to the next thing God placed before me. Looking back, I can see that the ministry was not built through grand plans. It was built through ordinary acts of obedience.

Still Walking the Arc
I am still walking this journey. Whenever I hear a harsh comment or see another family separated, I still feel the fire rise. Every time I do, I must surrender the same three things: the anger, the outcomes, and the need to win. I have learned that whenever winning becomes more important than loving, I have stepped away from the narrow path of Jesus.

 

One lesson has become especially clear: showing contempt for those who do not think loving our immigrant neighbors is important is just as destructive as showing contempt for immigrants.

 
Different targets. Same poison. I do not want that poison living in me.

The Fruit Test
Paul writes that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. That has become my test. If my anger moves me to love more deeply, to listen more carefully, and to recognize the image of God in people with whom I disagree, perhaps it is righteous. But if it makes me quicker to judge and slower to listen, then it is no longer reflecting the heart of Christ, no matter how justified it feels. God does not overcome contempt with contempt. He overcomes evil with good.

What Animates You?
The Arc of Righteous Anger isn't simply about anger. It's about what God does with it. The journey often begins with outrage when we recognize that something is deeply wrong. Left unchecked, outrage can harden into contempt and eventually give way to despair. But when we bring our anger honestly before God, He meets us there. Through surrender, He transforms outrage into holy resolve, leading us toward faithful obedience and restorative love. That is the arc I continue to walk.

Your journey may not involve immigrants. Perhaps your heart burns for children in foster care, the homeless, those battling addiction, a lonely neighbor across the street, or another injustice that refuses to let you look away. The specific cause matters less than what God does with the fire He has placed inside you.

Will that fire consume you? Or will it purify you?

The goal of righteous anger is never destruction. It is redemption. God does not waste the burdens He places on our hearts. He uses them to draw us closer to Himself and to invite us into His work of healing a broken world.

When we surrender our outrage to God, He transforms it into faithful obedience.
That is the arc I continue to walk. And I believe He invites each of us to walk that arc with Him.

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