The Hebrew Bible has over a dozen words for anger, and the God of the Old Testament uses them freely to describe his own emotional state. Numbers 11:10 says "the anger of the LORD was kindled greatly." Psalm 7:11 says "God is angry with the wicked every day." The idea that anger is inherently unchristian does not come from Scripture — it is a later accretion from Greek philosophy that preferred the impassible, emotionless divine. The God of the Bible is not emotionless.
Jesus in the temple courts (John 2:15) made a whip of small cords, drove out the money changers, scattered the coins, and overturned the tables. This is not a man who lost his temper. This is a deliberate, considered action. He made the whip — that takes time. He drove out both the animals and the sellers. The anger was morally calibrated to a real wrong. That is what righteous anger looks like.
The problem Paul addresses in Ephesians 4 and James addresses in chapter 1 is not the feeling but what it does to you and others when it is mishandled. "The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God" (James 1:20). Human anger has a tendency to reach for outcomes that satisfy the injured self rather than outcomes that are actually just. It escalates. It stockpiles. It becomes what Ephesians 4:31 calls "wrath" — thumos, the kind that boils up and spills over — versus the slow-burning bitterness of pikria, which poisons everything quietly. Both are named and both are addressed.
The instruction to "not let the sun go down upon your wrath" (Ephesians 4:26) is practical and precise. Not: resolve every conflict before nightfall. Rather: don't let anger harden overnight into grudge. The danger window is not the first hour; it is the forty-eighth, the seventy-second, when the anger calcifies into a narrative you keep telling yourself.
Commentary is from a charismatic Protestant perspective, drawing on KJV text and public-domain sources including Spurgeon, Andrew Murray, and Matthew Henry.