Thus today, I will end this mini-series with a note for
anyone who is not in time such as I, those who are dancing in the bright and
open spaces. Those who find themselves
reveling in goodness. For them, we look
at Job’s friends and we can discern how to joyfully attend one who mourns.
Job’s friends, as is likely fitting when we look at
chapters 4 through 6, get a bad rap more often than not. And with our hindsight, with our knowledge of
the end of Job’s story, it is easy to pin the moniker of “bad friend” on
them. However, we must examine their
actions in sequence. One of my favorite
moments in the early chapters of Job comes in chapter 2, verses 11 through
13. Job’s friends hear about what all
has happened to him. And they are
compelled to go to him. And comfort
him. And when they see him, they sat on
the ground with him for seven days and seven nights, because they see how great
his suffering is.
There is something in each of us that pulls us to our
loved ones when they’re hurting. An
urgent feeling of needing to be where they are.
Not for any particular purpose, but to lend comfort with our physical
proximity. Job’s friends heed this, and
go to where he is, to simply be there with him in his pain. Once they are there, they don’t utter a word
for seven days or nights. They know
there is nothing they can say to pierce this pain. Words are too flimsy and whatever they might
say at this point would only serve to undo whatever comfort their presence has
brought. Attending Job in silence is the
only thing they can do. And it is
enough.
I find that this is the mark of a good friend. Someone who can show up, uninvited, and just be. Someone who listens if the mourner is ready
to speak, and waits if the mourner is not.
Someone who, with their physical proximity to the situation, validates
the pain of the mourner; whose presences says, “This hurts. And it’s okay that it does.” These are the types of friends we all need;
the type we should be.
Yet there are times in life when one’s mourning may not
seem as warranted. You might find a
friend mourning the loss of a dream [career, house, opportunity, fill in the
blank]. And it might seem foolish to
grieve, even slightly, for something they never had. You may, in light of whatever situation you
encountered, be tempted to list all the things that are right in their life at
that time; trying to call their mind to blessings and set them in a spirit of
thankfulness. But we are not the arbiters
of pain, of what hurts whom, nor how much.
Our duty, as friend and Christ follower, is to mourn with those who
mourn; and to rejoice with those who rejoice.
To not pass judgment on what should or shouldn’t hurt, or how much, or
for how long. And to check every word
that you think should come out of your mouth before you spew it. Yes, there will be times when you can impart
truth into a life in desperate need of it.
But carefully measure your words; because the ill-timed comment or the
thoughtless lesson can do more damage and cause further separation [at least
initially] than loving silence.
Thus we can look to Job for our times of sorrow. We can find that regardless, God is sovereign. And in Job’s friends, we can see how to love
a friend through their trial…and how not to as well.
