In Christian circles, there's too much focus on lust as the root of sexual sin. Now don't get me wrong: Lust is not good. It wouldn't be one of the seven deadly sin if it was any good. But in our hyperfocus on lust, I think we might be overlooking another vice that is another major contributing factor in why so many Christians are succumbing to sins of the flesh. And that vice is anger.

Now, don't get me wrong: anger isn't inherently sinful or immoral. A few nights ago, I was watching Season 5 of The Crown with my family. In one episode, the murder of the Romanovs, the Russian Imperial family, is shown. The show did not shy away from showing the brutal methods of the murders. I felt angry upon seeing the depiction of the Imperial family's murder. Why? Because there was no good moral reason for the Bolsheviks to kill them. It's true that Tsar Nicholas was a less than perfect ruler. Many of the Russian people starved under his rule. But no human leader is ever going to be perfect. But why did the Grand Duchesses have to die in such a brutal way? Why did any of them have to die in such a horrible way? The Tsar had abdicated. None of the Grand Duchesses could ascend to the throne. Alexei was the heir until Tsar Nicholas abdicated. Could Empress Alexandra be regent for young Alexei in the case he ascended to the Russian throne before he reached the age where he would be allowed and expected to rule on his own? Most likely. And that qaurtet of servants who were only doing their duty to the family they served. They had no noble blood. There was no justifiable ethical reason to murder those poor servants.

But the anger I felt was righteous anger. It was anger at a very real injustice. When it comes to sexual sin, it can be justified anger or sinful anger. Why do I say that? As usual, I'll be using works of fiction to illustrate why anger contributing to sexual sin could be healthy anger or unhealthy anger. The first is the Daniel Craig 007 movies. In Casino Royale, the world's most famous British spy falls in love with a very beautiful and smart woman named Vesper. But Vesper found herself in a rather tough situation: the bad guys, who turn out to be a terrorist group, kidnapped her boyfriend and threatened to kill him unless she did as they told, even though Vesper was supposed to be helping Bond. Vesper, who developed feelings for James in return, was forced to become a double agent. Towards the end of the film, Vesper double-crosses Bond after they had started a romantic relationship. She betrays him by giving the winnings he received from a poker game against the terrorist group's private banker to the terrorist organization, which constitutes treason against the UK. She takes her own life shortly afterwards out of guilt and shame. It is revealed after her death that she made a deal with her blackmailers to spare James's life in exchange for the money. Bond is deeply hurt and angry at Vesper's betrayal and death. He closes himself off. In the subsuquent movies, Bond uses women and has sex with them until he meets Madeleine Swann and falls in love with her.

Even during the five years when James was living off the grid in Jamaica during his retirement, there is no implication that he continued to hookup with women for casual one-nighters, which differs from Skyfall. Skyfall clearly shows us that Bond continued to have casual one-nighters with different women during his miserable, involuntary, and short-lived retirement in Turkey.

Even though James's womanizing is established before he meets Vesper, it is his internal wounds and anger left by her betrayal and death that causes him to relapse into promiscuity. Now, Bond's anger and heartbreak are completely understandable and justifiable, even when one considers the completely understandable motives behind Vesper's treachery. Regardless of what the motivations behind a betrayal may be, it is still painful for the one who is betrayed.

The second work of fiction is Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom is madly in love with his pupil, soprano Christine Daae. The bond between them is complicated. Years prior to the events of Phantom, Christine lost her beloved father, leaving her an orphan. Her father would tell her stories of the Angel of Music, and promised that when he got to Heaven, he would send the Angel of Music to guide her, protect her and teach her how to sing. Shortly after her father's death, Christine became a ballet dancer at the Paris Opera House and that is when she met the Phantom, who pretended to be the Angel of Music after hearing her sing. So the Phantom was there for her during one of the most difficult times in her life. Not only that, but they bonded over their love and knowledge of music. He was her singing teacher. During this time, the Phantom fell head over heels in love with Christine. At the beginning of the story, Christine makes her debut as the lead singer in an opera and is an instant hit. After her triumphant debut, she asks her Angel to reveal himself to her. Now keep in mind, Christine had a specific image of her Angel in her mind and that image is shattered when the Phantom, her Angel, reveals himself to her in the flesh. He's not a benevolent heavenly spirit. He's a mortal man with a white half-mask covering the right side of his face. And she also had to listen to the Phantom's jealous and possessive tirade about Raoul visiting her. But the Phantom's rant was not directed at her for welcoming Raoul. It was directed solely at Raoul. And as he lures her through her dressing room mirror into the catacombs beneath the Opera, she's forced to accept that the person who has been giving her singing lessons is the Phantom of the Opera, not an Angel of God. She reveals that deep down, she knew the whole time that her instructor was human, not a holy angel. But I don't think she really cared because in her grief, she attached herself to her idea of the Angel of Music. Reality is not a welcome thing in periods of extreme emotional pain. As the Phantom lures her into the catacombs, she's in a sort of trance so she does not have full control over her faculties, let alone her behavior. This trance does not lift even after they arrive at the Phantom's dwelling in the catacombs. No, she remains in that trance as the Phantom tries to seduce her by singing "The Music of the Night." At one point during the song, there's a lustful expression on her face (I called it "the orgasm face" when I watched the 25th anniversary video recording with a friend one time) as she touches him at his prompting. But I don't think we can hold her fully culpable for being lustful in that instance, as she is in a trance, which diminishes free will/full consent. But she retains enough of her own mind to piece together what is going on, which is evident by the song she sings the next morning. And she is undeniably attracted to the Phantom.

Christine faints during "The Music of the Night," which is a combination of being overwhelmed at the sight of the Phantom's mannequin of her in a wedding dress and veil, being really tired after her debut and hitting some astronomical high notes during their trip down to the Phantom's home. So she's had quite a night. "The Music of the Night," by the way, is sensual and in it, the Phantom is pleading Christine to submit to his control and her darker side. Well, judging by the fact that she fainted at the sight of a mannequin of herself in a wedding gown and veil, she refused to submit to him and give in to her darker side.

So very early on, we have the Phantom engaging in lustful behavior because he's angry that he now has a competitor for Christine's love. The whole tirade aimed at Raoul reeks of possessiveness and entitlement. And all this anger, possessiveness, and entitlement stems from a traumatic past and the fact that no one has ever loved him or shared his passion for music like Christine does. The Phantom wouldn't be so lustful, angry, and possessive if he didn't perceive Raoul as a threat.

After he returns Christine to the world above, we see more of the Phantom's wrath because he had specific instructions and the managers didn't follow those instructions. But this time, the Phantom commits murder and it sends Christine into Raoul's arms. They confess their love, which breaks the Phantom's heart and incurs his wrath--again. In his heartbreak and fury, the Phantom once again reveals that he feels he's entitled to Christine's love, but this time it's because he taught her how to sing. His understanding of love is transactional, which as my therapist sister has told me, is commonplace among those who have trauma. But I believe that in his heart, he truly loved Christine, but just didn't know how to express it properly due to the fact that he didn't know how.

Six months later, the Phantom once again expresses his entitlement and possessiveness of Christine when he yanks a chain with her engagement ring off her neck and tells her that he owns her. Later, he pretends to be her deceased father and manipulates her at a moment when she is most vulnerable in an attempt to get her to return to him. He does not succeed because Raoul intervenes. And then, he performs a duet with her in an lust-filled opera he wrote as a final desperate effort to get her to be with him willingly. It doesn't succeed because she unmasks him in front of the audience, revealing his deformed face. He abducts her again and makes her change into a wedding dress. When Raoul shows up to rescue her, the Phantom puts a noose around his neck and gives Christine an ultimatum: marry him and he'll set Raoul free or refuse to marry him and he will kill Raoul right in front of her. Christine doesn't hesitate to let him know what she thinks about this ultimatum. She really lets him have it. After an argument between the three lasting a couple minutes, Christine chooses to stay with the Phantom and kisses him on the lips. This is where I think she realizes that she genuinely loves the Phantom back. And here's why: she kisses him once to genuinely show compassion and to calm him down, hugs him or takes a moment, and then kisses him a second time. Christine's love breaks through the Phantom's anger and he lets them both go. Christine comes back to give him her engagement ring and he tells her that he loves her.

Throughout the story, the Phantom's lustful behavior is linked to anger and a sense of entitlement. Though his longing for human love is understandable and valid, his anger was disproportionate. However, the source of the Phantom's anger and entitlement is his traumatic past. Addressing his trauma is what will most likely make the bad behavior disappear.

Chris Stefanick has a short YouTube video on how to change a sinful behavior. He says to attack the source and the sin will often disappear. By addressing unresolved anger alongside lust, we can break the cycle of lust and sexual sin, habitual or otherwise.