“Nearly all wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves” (Inst. I.1.i). – John Calvin
“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” – Psalm 139:1-6
“Han”
There is a stereotype among Korean men (there are many), but the one I’m talking about is this idea of “Korean rage” or “K-Rage” as some people say. No one quite knows where this comes from, but many speculate it comes from what Korean people call, “han.” Sara Kyoungah White explains “han” this way in a Christianity Today article:
“Broadly defined, han is a deep sorrow, resentment, and rage, felt in the collective and wrought by enduring oppression. Han hearkens to history and is relentlessly present from generation to generation. It is tinged with a haunting vengeance and a sense of incompleteness, a potent concoction that can lead even to death by hwabyeong, the Korean ‘anger syndrome.'”
She later expands on this by writing:
“Han, derived from the Chinese character hen (恨; resentment, hatred, or regret), would become an established part of Korean culture only in the early 20th century during the Japanese occupation of Korea. In the following years, the Korean War deepened the sense of han as the country was divided in two and left in shambles.”1
As someone who was born and grew up a century away from Japan’s occupation of Korea, in some sense, there is no real reason for me to embody this concept of “han.” And yet, anger is an emotion I have the most confusing and destructive relationship with.
When did I get here?
How did I become this type of person?
And why is it that when I read the concept of “han”, I feel understood and yet left all alone to sort out the rage that bubbles inside of me?
Generational Wounds
After years of struggling with having a right relationship with anger, pondering and praying for God to take away my anger, and studying the Scriptures fervently for a recipe to remedy my anger, I have come to the conclusion that this goes beyond human emotion. My conclusion is that this is entirely generational, deeply woven into the fabric of my humanity and identity.
From my high school years, I wrestled with my anger. I punched holes in the walls of my room. I punched my pillows, screamed inside of them, yelled at people, hit myself–all to relieve the pain and release the anger I felt inside my body. And yet, no amount of purgation seemed to be enough. It felt as if there was an endless flow of rage from within me; an ocean of fiery water that constantly poured itself out into a steady stream of being pissed off.
Throughout my college years, I thought I had solved this riddle after re-dedicating my life to walk with Jesus Christ. My ability to remain cool, calm, and collected prevailed in situations where I once would have blown up in fits of anger. But in hindsight, I now know I was just masterful at suppressing the rage I felt. In hindsight, I realized what contained the fiery ocean of rage just got larger over time, increasing my ability to retain more frustrations and annoyances, but only to pop like a pressure cooker when it got to be too much. To my sadness, from what I thought was a deep spiritual change was actually just a facade within my own heart. Perhaps I had convinced myself that the confession of my anger over years of prayer led to heart change, which led to change in behavior and how I react to stressful situations. Again, I was just suppressing things.
Most of my formative years before turning 25 was this ebb and flow of calm and anger, calm and anger, calm and anger, calm and anger, calm and anger. By the time I hit my mid twenties, I had come to terms that I was just an angry asian man. The stereotypical Korean man who struggled with anger and settled that this was going to be my life until the day that I die. I recall telling people around me, “oh yeah, I just struggle with anger. That’s my thing.” I became so convinced I was stuck in this perpetual cycle of being calm and then angry to the point where I stopped praying to God about removing my anger and instead, started to pray, “Lord, just don’t let me pass this on to my kids, if I have any.” If you couldn’t tell, I had thrown in the towel with regards to having hope about recovery.
Beloved Child
Have you ever thought, “how does Jesus react to my emotions?”
Have you ever thought, “does Jesus get angry when I get angry at other people?”
Have you ever thought, “what does God think of me?”
I’ve thought of these questions in the last few years. When a pastor of mine asked me the last question, I broke down. I thought of all the heinous and troubled things I’ve thought, said, and done from a place of anger and responded, “God thinks I’m just an angry guy, a terrible pastor, and a terrible husband.” I was met with the gentle response, “God sees you as His beloved child.”
I remain convinced to this day, that is the moment things began to unravel deep within me on my journey of inner-healing and coming to a place of health with the emotion of anger. The shift from knowing and seeing myself as an “angry asian man” to “God’s child” was a shift I didn’t know I needed to hear and make internally. It’s highly ironic because I preach on Sundays, provide pastoral direction to congregants, teach theology, and remind people of their identity in the Gospel and yet, I could not see it for myself that I needed to hear I am God’s beloved child.
I don’t think anyone had told me this truth directly until that day with one of my pastors.
As John Calvin famously wrote, “Nearly all wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” Essentially what John Calvin is saying is the more you know yourself in the sense of your lack, the more you realize your necessity of God in all to which He can provide. For me, much of my anger and my unhealthy relationship with anger came from a few, but prominent places in my life: 1) a strong emotional disconnect between my father and I in my childhood, 2) seeing how some adults in my life primarily went to anger as a solution to problems, 3) being bullied as a kid by people who were supposed to my protectors. These three experiences over time during my childhood and adolescence was what I lacked in my life. And so this hearing about being God’s beloved child as an adult completely exposed what I had negatively experienced and exposed how God can and will redeem those areas of my life.
Where I had an emotional disconnect with my father, God sees me and calls me His beloved son.
Where I saw formative adults go to anger as a solution, God instructs me to be patient, loving, and kind.
Where I was bullied by people who were supposed to protect me, I feel safe in the arms of my loving Heavenly Father.
And it’s this palpable identity shift that allowed me to begin processing my past with a therapist because I found myself to be more secure in my identity as God’s beloved child, rather than an “angry Asian man.”
The Old Has Gone, The New Is Here!
I want to share a few things that were key for me in finding healing from anger over the last few years from my therapy sessions, pastoral care meetings, and of course, my wife.
- Anger is not a bad emotion, in fact, anger can be a great emotion in the right situation.
- Anger can actually be constructive, but when you have an unhealthy relationship with anger, it will primarily be destructive.
- Anger (for me) can never be in the driver seat. It can be in the passenger seat or in any of the other seats in the back, but never in the driver seat.
- You are not an angry man, but a beloved child of God who has childhood wounds and hurts.
- Validating my anger does not equate to being justified in letting it take control over my body, mind, and soul.
- Share how and what you’re feeling when you start to feel the anger come out, instead of holding your thoughts and words in.
- I’ve conditioned my brain to react from anger, but praise God that He made the brain malleable to change over time and habit.
The last couple years of my life have been one of shedding off the false-self that I carried around for so long. It was to the point where my false-self became a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. It was a cycle that I could not break. But praise God because not only was He there with me through those years and through it all, but He also was on the outside breaking in and through the cycle I was gripped by. For me, though I intellectually and emotionally understand and empathize with the concept of “han,” the Gospel message of Jesus has set me free from having this deep cultural identity marker as part of my identity. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “the old has gone, the new is here!” and that is only made possible because of Jesus Christ who joyfully shares His status as God’s beloved son, with me.
This post was originally published on Young’s Substack. It has been republished here and edited with the author’s permission.
Photo Credit: Xuan Nguyen