As imago dei, there are real concrete parallels between the best parts of human nature and God Himself.  This includes anger.  Anger is not always a negative emotion.  It is possible to be 'good and angry.'  Were this not the case, how would we explain the very real presence of anger in the heart of the incarnate Son of God.  In these moments, He was not embarrassed to say, "He that hath seen me has seen the Father!"  

On the contrary, anger is a beautiful thing when it patterns the character of God.  Anger is that fiery passion that helps us protect that which really matters.  Would it not be ungodly for an earthly father to sit unimpassioned before the threat of evil against his family?  Should his passion's not be aroused by the school yard bully, the child-molester, and the drug pusher?  

As with the rest of our human emotional responses, sin handicaps, corrupts, and exaggerates this emotion, twisting it into a warped caricature of the Divine.  We become angry at the wrong things, for the wrong reasons, and in the wrong ways.  At times our anger is excessive, at others it falls far short of an appropriate response to evil.  

Worst of all, our anger is usually self-centered, provoked by those who insult us, inconvenience us, annoy us, frustrate us, and obstruct us.  Such anger finds its motivation in the offended Kingdom of Self.  True anger, like God's, should always be focused above upon the Divine majesty.  What really matters to God is the Godhead in all of its Triune glory.  As such, the Father is incensed that men should esteem His Son so lightly; the Son is furious that people dishonor HIs Abba so; and the Spirit is grieved by the collective and systemic hardness of mankind to the Father and His lovely Son.  Thus God's anger is both Other-centered and God-centered all at the same time.  

Without this anger, it is impossible to make sense of the cross, where, at the end of the via dolorossa, the Father waited for His Son with the untempered pains of hell.  Some modern scholars try to make sense of hell without the motif of wrath.  While this might make God seem kinder, in a grandfatherly sort of way, it catastrophically underestimates what actually transpired at Golgotha.  There God made "Him who knew no sin to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him."  There Jesus became the sin of the world, and there God the Father treated Him accordingly.  In Golgotha's blazing darkness, there was not merely the absence of God's love, there was also the presence of God's wrath in all of its unmixed and unmitigated fury.  There is no wrath for us today, precisely because there was wrath for Christ way back then.

Infinite love motivated Christ to enter this crucible for His people and it took infinite love for God to send Him there for sinners.  As Donald Macleod says,

God is angry with our defiances, blasphemies and idolatries; angry with the way we treat our neighbors; angry with the way we treat the poor, the alien and the marginalized; angry with the way we treat our enemies. Far from ignoring or indulging such lovelessness God deplores it, and this is no irrational, evanescent or intemperate fury. It is the deliberated,measured, judicious response of God to our collective revolt against his rule, and to the systemic injustice which marks human society. We may pretend that our denials of the rights of our fellow human beings, our abuse of the other creatures with whom we share the planet, and our spoliation of our common habitat, are but peccadillos: only small, trivial sins. But in God’s eyes, the earth is filled with violence (Gen. 6:11), and it appalls him. It would be our wisdom to propitiate God, but we have nothing to offer. This is why God the Son had to become man: to atone for our sin.
— Christ Crucified: Understanding the Atonement, Macleod, Donald, IVP, 2014, Page 141