Sacred Rage

Welcome to Grace and Space, a weekly newsletter from the Deconstructing Mamas Podcast! GRACE for who you have been, are now and SPACE for who you are becoming and will be!

What if I am wrong. Not what if you are wrong. Not I know you are wrong. That one shift toward curiosity cracked something open in me years ago. It is still the doorway I try to walk through when my chest tightens and my fists clench.

This week, Rev. Ben Cremer joined us and named what so many of us carry: the simmering anger that rises when faith spaces wound us, and the longing to do something life-giving with it. We talked ghosts and grief, table-flipping and tenderness, culture wars and kitchen tables. We kept circling back to two practices that keep us human: curiosity and lament.

What we mean by sacred rage:

Rage reveals love. When zeal boils over, it shows what we treasure. The question is where it points. Toward defending our comfort, or toward defending our neighbor.
Aim at systems, not people. It is easy to attack a person who represents what is broken. Sacred anger stays focused on the machine, while refusing to forget anyone’s humanity.
Curiosity loosens fear. Listening to stories we cannot explain makes space for hope. It reminds us we do not know the end of the story.
Accountability with compassion. “Forgive them” never meant “no consequences.” It means we hold people responsible while still seeing their dignity.

Lament is how we stop passing the pain:

We do not cry very well. We clench. We post. We argue with relatives at holiday tables. Lament invites us to name what hurts and to be witnessed in it. Ben shared the power of giving church-hurt a microphone and watching a room exhale. That is part of why we make this podcast. A kind of collective lament so you do not feel alone.

A simple lament practice for your nervous system:

Name it. One honest sentence: “I grieve ______.”
Witness it. Share it with a safe person who can say, “I hear you.” If there is no one today, speak it to the shower steam.
Bless a boundary. Write one sentence you can use at a family gathering that protects your peace. Keep it kind and clear.

Gentleness as creative resistance:

Gentleness is not weakness. It is courage. It is inventive. It confounds the violent because it refuses their script. Think sit-ins. Think humor. Think a sea of inflatable frogs standing calm in front of armor. Love and laughter interrupt the cycle. The same is true in parenting. Yelling is quick. Gentleness requires creativity and connection.

Try this at home:

Correction after connection. Regulate first. Connect. Then guide.
Small changes count. Big change is beautiful, but daily tenderness with our kids and with ourselves is world-shaping.
Notice burnout before bitterness. Reach for people, place, and practice: a friend thread, fresh air, five slow breaths.

Holiday tables, agency, and hope:

Many of us will sit with people we love who see justice through a different lens. Some want annihilation. We want accountability and restoration. I am practicing agency here. Choosing curiosity. Naming my limits. Aiming my anger at the systems that keep us small. Letting lament move through me so I do not pass it along.

I do not have tidy conclusions. I do have a fiercer commitment to neighbor love. A reverence for gentleness. And a stubborn hope that we can be known for the right kind of outrage. The kind that clears a path for belonging. *Written by Esther Joy Goetz*

THIS WEEK ON THE PODCAST

🎧 This Week on the Podcast

We sat down with Rev. Benjamin Cremer, writer, pastor, and creator of Into the Gray, to talk about what it looks like to hold sacred anger with open hands.

This conversation stretched from “What if I’m wrong?” to “How do we keep from passing our pain along?” We talked about retributive vs. restorative justice, how lament can heal our nervous systems, and why gentleness might just be the most radical form of resistance.

Ben reminded us that curiosity is a spiritual practice, lament is a sacred protest, and gentleness—far from weakness—is creativity at its finest.

KEY TAKEAWAYS:

Curiosity loosens fear. It moves us from I know you’re wrong to What if I’m wrong?
Sacred rage has a direction. Aim your anger at harmful systems, not at the people trapped inside them.
Lament is how we stop passing pain. Naming grief in community transforms rage into healing.
Gentleness is courageous. It interrupts the cycle of violence and control with creativity, humor, and love.
Correction comes after connection. Whether in parenting, faith, or community—belonging comes first.
Tradition is living faith. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.
Transformation is slow work. Small acts of connection and compassion still change the world.

WHY THIS EPISODE MATTERS:

Because so many of us are carrying a mix of grief, anger, and exhaustion—and trying to figure out what to do with it.

This conversation names that ache and gives it language. It’s an invitation to move from bitterness to belonging, from outrage to imagination.

If you’ve ever felt burned by religion but still long for the sacred, if you’re learning to parent or protest differently, or if you’re craving a spirituality wide enough to hold lament and love—this one’s for you.

One last thing. We want to remind you that we are so glad you are here. We wouldn't be the same without you. You will always find GRACE for where you've been and who you are now, and SPACE for who you are becoming and will be.

Carry on, our new-found friends. Welcome to the twisty-windy, full -of-adventure faith path that's laid out before us all.

Love,

Lizz & Esther

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