He that would be angry and sin not, must not be angry with

The dusk was settling over the city, the fading light casting a soft glow over the streets, which were now quieting as the day slowly folded into the evening. The air was cool but not yet cold, a gentle breeze brushing through the trees lining the street. Jack sat at a worn table outside a small café, the half-empty cup of coffee in front of him growing colder by the minute. Jeeny sat across from him, her hands wrapped around her own cup, her fingers tracing the rim as she waited for him to speak. The tension between them had been building all afternoon, and now it was finally time for the conversation they both knew was coming.

Host: The city had gone quiet, as if holding its breath, waiting for the next words to break the stillness. The sky above was turning darker, the soft glow of streetlights just beginning to flicker on. Jeeny’s gaze was steady, yet her heart raced, knowing that the time for honesty was now.

Jeeny: “I’ve been thinking about something John Ruskin said: ‘He that would be angry and sin not, must not be angry with anything but sin.’ Do you think that’s possible, Jack? Can you really only be angry with sin, or is that just a lofty ideal?”

Jack: His eyes drifted over the street, his expression unreadable as his fingers absently tapped on the edge of his cup. “I think it sounds like something someone who’s never really been angry would say. Anger is a part of who we are. It’s not something we can just turn off. You can’t always be rational about it. People hurt you, things go wrong — of course, you’re going to get angry.”

Jeeny: She leaned forward slightly, her voice calm, but with an edge of urgency. “But that’s exactly the point, Jack. Anger doesn’t come from nowhere. It comes from what we choose to focus on. And if we allow ourselves to get angry about everything, we’re giving away control. Anger becomes a tool of destruction, not just in the world, but in ourselves. Maybe if we focused our anger on what’s truly wrong — like injustice, like sin — we wouldn’t let it control us.”

Jack: His lips curled into a tight, wry smile, but his eyes were cold, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “And what if life doesn’t give us the chance to pick and choose when to be angry? What if the things that make us angry aren’t always about sin? What about when someone betrays you, or when you watch the world fall apart and feel like you can’t do anything about it?”

Jeeny: She didn’t flinch, her eyes never leaving his. “I know that feeling, Jack. But what if we’re allowing anger to take us down paths we can’t come back from? What if anger at the wrong things is what’s keeping us stuck? Sin — that’s the real enemy. Anger should be reserved for that, for things that actually harm the soul, not just personal grievances.”

Jack: He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as if he was measuring her words carefully. “So, you’re telling me that if someone hurts me, or if I see something unfair happening, I shouldn’t be angry about it? That I should just sit back and be calm and let it happen?”

Jeeny: Her gaze softened, the sorrow in her voice palpable. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Anger is a natural response, but it’s how we choose to respond to it that matters. If we let it fester, it becomes bitterness, and bitterness destroys everything it touches. Anger can be a tool, but only when it’s focused on the right things, the things that are truly worth it. When we focus on the sin, on the wrongdoing, we fight for what’s just without losing our humanity.”

Jack: His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched slightly around the edges of his chair. “And what if fighting back against the wrong things takes all your strength? What if fighting without anger leaves you vulnerable, leaves you weak? What if you can’t stop yourself from getting caught in it, from letting anger define you?”

Jeeny: She sighed, her voice soft but filled with an inner strength. “Anger doesn’t define us, Jack. It’s how we choose to use it that does. True power comes from understanding where to direct it — not letting it consume you, not letting it turn you into the very thing you’re fighting against. Anger is a reaction. But peace — that’s a choice. It’s not about letting go of your anger, it’s about choosing not to let it rule your every thought and action.”

Host: The cool evening breeze stirred, brushing through their hair, the world around them shifting as if in response to the deep truth of the moment. The light from the streetlamps bathed them in a soft glow, but the tension in the air remained. Jack looked at Jeeny for a long time, his gaze shifting from guarded to something more open, more vulnerable. Her words had pierced through the armor he had built up over the years, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of his own anger, the damage it had done to him.

Jack: He exhaled slowly, the tightness in his chest releasing just a little. “I don’t know, Jeeny. I don’t know if I can just turn off the anger. It’s been part of me for so long.”

Jeeny: Her eyes softened with understanding, but there was a quiet confidence in her voice. “I’m not asking you to turn it off. I’m asking you to choose where to focus it. We can be angry about the things that harm us, that harm others, but we can’t let it control us. Peace doesn’t mean weakness, Jack. It means having the strength to fight with a clear heart, without letting the wrong things blind us.”

Jack: He rubbed his hands over his face, his voice a quiet murmur. “I’ve been angry for so long, Jeeny. Sometimes, I don’t know how to stop.”

Jeeny: She reached across the table, her hand brushing his gently, offering him the same strength that her words had given him. “You don’t have to stop it all at once. But you can start by choosing to direct it, by choosing to fight for the right things — for what’s just, for what’s true. Anger can be a fire that burns through everything, but it can also light the way if you know where to aim it.”

Host: The night wrapped around them, the city now quiet as the last light of day faded into the horizon. Jack sat still for a moment, as if testing the weight of the truth Jeeny had just offered him. Slowly, he let his hand fall from his face, his eyes meeting hers with a new understanding, a small flicker of hope amidst the pain.

Jack: “Maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong. Maybe it’s not about getting rid of the anger — maybe it’s about using it in the right way.”

Jeeny: She smiled softly, the warmth of it reaching her eyes. “Exactly. You don’t have to let it rule you. You just need to focus it on what truly matters.”

Host: The street remained quiet, but the air felt lighter between them, the weight of the conversation shifting as if a new path had opened up. The road ahead would still be hard, but for the first time, Jack felt as though he had the tools to walk it with clarity, not with the blind rage that had once driven him. The peace he sought wasn’t the absence of anger, but the ability to choose where to direct it — and that, he realized, was something worth fighting for.

The night deepened, but the stars began to shine brighter.