Men Like Jesus: Compassionate, Angry, with Sorrows

This piece was originally published by Dr. Anthony Bradley in his Substack. You can subscribe to his newsletter here.

The world needs men from the church who are compassionate, angry, and not without many sorrows. This embodies what it means to follow Christ in union and communion with God the Father, empowered by the spirit to live a life of true greatness. That is, the Son, reflecting the Father, embodies compassion, anger, and sorrow, and this is precisely what the world requires more of from Christian men—to be Christ-like. Compassion is not “feminine,” anger is not sinful, and sorrow is not a sign of weakness. B.B. Warfield explains this in his essay on the emotional life of Jesus.

B.B. Warfield’s essay, “The Emotional Life of our Lord,” (from the book The Work and Person of Christ) explores the complexity of Jesus Christ’s emotional life (compassion, anger, and sorrow) as both fully human and fully divine. Warfield addresses the challenge in understanding how Jesus experienced human emotions without sin and how His divine nature influenced these emotions. The essay contrasts two early church perspectives: one emphasizing Jesus’ moral perfection and lack of passions, drawing from Stoic ideals, and the other insisting that Jesus fully embraced human emotions to sanctify them for humanity’s benefit.

Compassion

Warfield argues that a balanced understanding of Jesus’ emotions is essential for appreciating His humanity and divinity. He suggests starting with the Gospel narratives that explicitly mention Jesus’ emotions as a foundation for understanding His emotional life. The Gospels often depict Jesus feeling compassion, a significant emotion that motivates His actions of mercy and healing. This compassion is seen both in response to physical needs and, more profoundly, to spiritual destitution. Warfield notes that Jesus’ compassion is not just an internal feeling but leads to acts of kindness and healing, reflecting His deep love for humanity.

The article also discusses Jesus’ love as a central theme, highlighting its expression in His relationships with His disciples, His obedience to the Father, and His self-sacrifice for humanity. Jesus’ love is portrayed as both a benevolent desire for the well-being of others and a personal affection for those close to Him, like Lazarus and the beloved disciple John.

Warfield emphasizes the importance of recognizing Jesus’ emotional life to fully grasp His humanity and the depth of His love and compassion.

Matthew 9:35-36—Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Anger

Anger is an invaluable emotion for guiding someone in determining future commitments and identifying areas where one wishes to collaborate with Christ in the eradication of evil in the world, “as far as the curse is found.” We need Christian men to be angry about the right things. Sadly, young men often encouraged to get angry about frivolous and unserious things like sports, politics, the culture war, etc. We then numb them with decadence, leisure, and the pursuit of material comfort and ease of life as “success.”

I wish more families would raise sons who are taught to harness their anger constructively toward evil running rampant in the world today. Sons who are taught to understand their anger have a deeper grasp of their calling and vocation and are much clearer about their role in the world. They know what majors to choose in college and why. They know what kind of marriage partners to pursue and why. It’s rare in America to find families raising sons who aspire to follow Jesus in undoing the work of the devil (1 John 3:8). Undoing evil is why Jesus came. Where, then, are the men who are righteously angry at the devil’s schemes in the world like Jesus was?

American church culture may have neutered a few generations of teens by mistakenly telling them that anger is a sin, instead of teaching them to be angry about the right things, for the right reasons, at the right time, and in the right way. Anger can fuel good decision-making.

Warfield explores the moral sense of Jesus, emphasizing that as a moral being, Jesus could not remain indifferent to perceived wrong. Jesus got angry. Warfield explains that moral judgments inherently involve approval or disapproval, leading to emotions like indignation and anger in response to wrongdoing. The Gospel of Mark, for example, records instances of Jesus expressing anger and indignation towards behaviors and attitudes that demonstrate insensitivity to human suffering or that prioritize ritual over compassion.

Warfield explains,

It is Mark, for instance, who tells us explicitly (iii. 5) that the insensibility of the Jews to human suffering exhibited in a tendency to put ritual integrity above humanity, filled Jesus with indignant anger. A man whose hand had withered, met with in the synagogue one Sabbath, afforded a sort of test-case. The Jews treated it as such and “watched Jesus whether he would heal him on the Sabbath day, that they might accuse him.” Jesus accepted the challenge. Commanding the man to “rise in the midst” of the assemblage, he put to them the searching question, generalizing the whole case: “Is it lawful to do good or to do evil on the Sabbath, to save life or to kill?” “But,” says the narrative, “they kept silent.” Then Jesus’ anger rose: “he looked around at them with anger, being grieved at the hardness of their heart.” What is meant is, not that his anger was modified by grief, his reprobation of the hardness of their hearts was mingled with a sort of sympathy for men sunk in such a miserable condition. What is meant is simply that the spectacle of their hardness of heart produced in him the deepest dissatisfaction, which passed into angry resentment.

Thus the fundamental psychology of anger is curiously illustrated by this account; for anger always has pain at its root, and is a reaction of the soul against what gives it discomfort. The hardness of the Jews’ heart, vividly realized, hurt Jesus; and his anger rose in repulsion of the cause of his pain. There are thus two movements of feeling brought before us here. There is the pain which the gross manifestation of the hardness of heart of the Jews inflicted on Jesus. And there is the strong reaction of indignation which sprang out of this pain. The term by which the former feeling is expressed has at its basis the simple idea of pain, and is used in the broadest way of every kind of pain, whether physical or mental, emphasizing, however, the sensation itself, rather than its expression…

On another occasion Mark (x. 14) pictures Jesus to us as moved by a much lighter form of the emotion of anger. His disciples, — doubtless with a view to protecting him from needless drafts upon his time and strength, — interfered with certain parents, who were bringing to him their babies (Lk. xviii. 15) “that he should touch them.” Jesus saw their action, and, we are told, “was moved with indignation.” The term employed here expresses, originally, physical (such, for example, as is felt by a teething child), and then mental (Mt. xx. 24, xxi. 15, xxvi. 8; Mk. x. 41, xiv. 4; Lk. xiii. 14, cf. II Cor. vii. 11) “irritation.” Jesus was “irritated,” or perhaps we may better render, was “annoyed,” “vexed,” at his disciples. And (so the term also suggests) he showed his annoyance, — whether by gesture or tone or the mere shortness of his speech: “Let the children come to me; forbid them not!” Thus we see Jesus as he reacts with anger at the spectacle of inhumanity, so reacting with irritation at the spectacle of blundering misunderstanding, however well-meant.

For Warfield, the Bible explicates Jesus’ stern reactions to those he healed when they disobeyed his instructions, suggesting his anger might stem from their actions’ potential implications for his broader mission rather than from the healings themselves. It also touches on Jesus’ profound anger at the grave of Lazarus, driven by the grief and tyranny of death, showcasing his deep opposition to death as an enemy.

Through these examples, according to Warfield, the biblical text underscores Jesus’ complex emotional life and righteous anger against injustice and evil.

If a young man reaches the age of 18 and he’s not righteously angry about some real evil in the world, we have failed him.

When Jesus recruited teens, they were so fired up that they turned their anger toward undoing the work of the devil. They were casting out demons and healing disease. Imagine if teens walked out of churches as seniors in high school with this level of anger? It would upend the world.

Luke 9:1-6 When Jesus had called the Twelve together, he gave them power and authority to drive out all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal the sick. He told them: “Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt. Whatever house you enter, stay there until you leave that town. If people do not welcome you, leave their town and shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.” So they set out and went from village to village, proclaiming the good news and healing people everywhere.

Mark 3:5—[Jesus] looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts, said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was completely restored.

A Man of Sorrows

Jesus was a “man of sorrows.” This emotion essentially about the practice of empathy related to his mission. Christ suffers with and for his people—and took action accordingly.

Warfield explains the profound emotional suffering Jesus Christ experienced, particularly in the moments leading up to and including his crucifixion, highlighting his anguish not just as a part of his humanity but as central to his role as the savior bearing the sins of mankind. It argues that the intensity and scope of Jesus’ mental and emotional suffering—ranging from dismay and despondency to a sense of desolation—were so acute that they overshadow the physical tortures of the crucifixion, suggesting that Jesus died more from the overwhelming burden of these sufferings, metaphorically described as a “broken heart,” than from the physical injuries inflicted upon him.

Warfield emphasizes Jesus’ perfect trust and submission to God’s will throughout his trials, noting his calm demeanor and self-mastery despite the depths of his suffering. This trust is manifested in his prayers in Gethsemane and his final words on the cross, where he commends his spirit into God’s hands. The narrative portrays Jesus as actively participating in his sufferings, not as a passive victim but as one who chooses to endure agony for a redemptive purpose, thereby maintaining control over his circumstances and himself.

Warfield also touches on a generally objective approach to describing Jesus’ emotions, noting specific instances where emotions like wonder, desire, and even shame are attributed to him. This method of narration underlines the reality of Jesus’ emotional life without dwelling overly on introspection.

Additionally, the essay discusses how Jesus’ emotional expressions, including tears, sighs, and expressions of anger, underscore his complete humanity and individuality. It argues against the notion that Jesus represented a generic or universal human nature, instead portraying him as a distinct individual whose emotions were fully integrated and balanced, reflecting a harmonious and complete personhood. Jesus was a man of many sorrows.

Isaiah 53:3(ESV)—He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Conclusion

The church and the world would be much better places if the church’s men were more like Christ—full of compassion, anger, and sorrow. Who is raising them up to follow in Christ this way? This is mission. This is maturity. This is what it means, in part, to be properly manly.