Joining Job's Friends

Job suffered a horrific loss--seven sons and three daughters, as well as all of his ancestral inheritance. Three friends got word of the tragedy and immediately came to his side.  They then engaged in the most healing act they could. "They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great" (Job 2:13).  

I have often found these to be the most profound words in the forty-plus chapters of meditation on suffering, God and life. Job's friends sat and said nothing. 

Why is that important? Job's friends first enacted the "do no harm" rule of bereavement support. When we speak in the face of unspeakable suffering, we find it nearly impossible to keep from doing damage. We may minimize the loss the other experiences. We may insist that the other should get over it and relieve our own discomfort. We may feel the need to make excuses for God and to condemn God roundly for inaction. So we use the loss as an opportunity for theological exposition. We may make a political or social connection to the loss. So we use the loss as an opportunity to advocate for social change of some kind or as a chance to do some social analysis.

When we speak, we can hardly resist the temptation to make it about us.

We can hardly ever resist the temptation to be opportunists--usually without any intention of doing so--but to be opportunists nonetheless in the face of another's massive sense of loss.  That loss is an opportunity for nothing more or less than the need to grieve.  So Job's friends keep silence.

Of course, they would have been well-served to continue that practice for a while longer.  Unfortunately they launch into many, many chapters of damned-foolery.  And they put Job in the position of responding in kind.

Let us be quiet and do no harm.

The silence of Job's friends also has a positive function.  It is an expression of unconditional care.  Job is not required to feel better or to entertain in order to deserve the company of his friends.  He is not required to say anything or do anything in order to keep their attention.  He is not left to feel odd, damaged, weird, alienated or isolated in his loss.  He is surrounded for a whole week by the care of his friends and protected while he grows some new emotional skin.

It may be that Job's friends simply did not know what to say.  If so, they knew enough not to say it.  Thanks be to God for that.

So in this time of public loss and grief, I have been grateful for those who have sat in silence with the suffering.  There will be time to diagnose, analyze, pontificate, legislate, counsel and encourage toward healing.  There will be time to understand the depth and complexity of this tragedy.  There will be time to acknowledge the unresolvable mysteries of evil and suffering.

First, however, we might do with a little more quiet.