Some things make me angry. Newspaper columnists who belittle life-long marriage; radio hosts who rile against refugees; the big glossy advertisements for brothels in my local newspaper; climate-change proponents who label their critics ”deniers” to silence them; climate-change critics who label their opponents “alarmists” for the same reason. Yes, some things make me angry.

Jesus became angry (John 2:13-17; 11:33). One Sabbath He was preaching in a synagogue when a number of His critics were present. In a provocative move, Jesus called to a man with a crippled hand and had him stand in front of the group. “Does the law permit good deeds on the Sabbath,” Jesus asked, eyeing His critics, “or is it a day for doing evil?” (Mark 3:4). Silence. “Is this a day” (we can imagine Him speaking louder now), “to save life or to destroy it?” Still silence.

God made the Sabbath as a time for rest and renewal (Exodus 20:8), but by Jesus’ day the religious leaders had made its strict observance a sign of one’s righteousness. No work was to be done on the Sabbath, including, in the Pharisees’ eyes, the healing of crippled men. And Jesus was angry about that—angry at the Pharisees’ hard hearts.

But, astonishingly, we find Jesus being “deeply saddened” by them too (Mark 3:5). His anger at evil wasn’t accompanied by hatred for its perpetrators, but by sadness, grief, compassion.

I ask myself, To what degree do I feel compassion for that columnist, radio host, or brothel owner? Do I feel sad about that angry driver or climate-change critic? I’m not sure how much of my anger is the least bit righteous, let alone combined with compassion.

To feel anger is human. To feel compassionate anger is divine. I want to be more like Jesus.