Be Present

 When Job's three friends [...] heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. They sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was. Job 2: 11-13

We all know what Job's friends did wrong, but what about what they did right? If we stop at the "they were fine until they opened their mouths" jokes, then we've missed some rich lessons. Initially, they put our culture's avoidance of the suffering and grieving to shame.  

As soon as Job's friends heard about Job's suffering: 

    1. They did not delay; they didn't let doubts, insecurities, or the discomfort of death and suffering delay them. 

They met together by agreement and set out to go sympathize and comfort. 

    2. They were intentional. Weeping with those who weep does not happen passively. Have you ever considered it's easier for some to "rejoice with those who rejoice" if first they were met when weeping? Intentionality met Job in his weeping. 

    3. They recognized a friend's ability and responsibility to show up. 

    4. They didn't bring gifts, meals, or anything to "fix" it (as if anything could)- they recognized the power of presence over presents. There's nothing wrong with physical blessings amid great sorrow; I can personally attest to the sweet blessings of such.  Eventually though, cards stop arriving in mail, gifts of condolence stop, and meal trains halt as time moves on despite the permanence of sorrow. Presence speaks loud into the ongoing silence of suffering without requiring words. 

At the time, Job is sitting in the ash heap scraping sores surrounded by brokenness: both of pottery, body, and heart. They see him from afar and hardly recognize him.

    5.They go to the dirty, hard places. They aren't afraid to approach the ruins Job has settled upon. They do not beckon him out of his ash and broken pieces. They recognize deep grief and suffering have changed their friend, and they join him anyway. 

These friends wept and mourned aloud. 

    6. There was no shame in tears or mourning. They physically and emotionally entered into Job's suffering to the degree they were able. They didn't tell him not to cry, to "look on the bright side", or "at least they are in a better place". They mourned- intensely- as they sang the first stanza in the song of lament. Long before Paul addressed the Romans, these men chose to "weep with those who weep". This is the beginning of interpersonal lament. They pressed in. They acknowledged the horror, sadness, and brokenness of it all. 

They sat on the ground with him for seven days and nights. 

    7. Again, they met him where he was. His pain, his oozing sores, and his ruins didn't scare them away. They didn't avoid looking at him; instead, they were willing to look such devastation in the face. Their friend did not have the luxury of turning a blind eye, neither would they. For SEVEN days and nights they showed up weeping with and for him. They appear broken and burdened for their friend. 

No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was. 

    8. Some suffering should prompt silence and solidarity. 

    9. For seven days and nights there was no caving to the pressure of saying something to fill an awkward silence. They let Job take the lead in regard to verbal communication. Job is the one who broke the silence. (He may have later wished he has done otherwise, but that's another lesson for another day.) 

    10. There was an awareness that some suffering is beyond the consolation of words.  

Based on other references throughout the book of Job it's apparent he was known for his words of instruction, strength, and encouragement of others in various trials or sufferings. He apparently pressed into others in difficult times instead of pulling away. Now that Job has found himself walking barefoot over shards of broken pottery along a dark path in the valley of death where were all those who had previously found themselves on the receiving end of Job's beneficence?  Thus far, we must credit these three friends with love and appropriate care towards Job. Yes, we know later their words cause more pain, but they are the only ones who have showed up, entered his pain, and wept with him. We do not excuse their future ill-spoken and poor theologically laden words, but we do well to learn what we can from this particular scene. (Sidenote: Theology matters when suffering comes. Theology can hurt or help, encourage or exacerbate.)

Societies in western culture generally hold the suffering and grieving at arm's length, pushing away from such discomfort. Contrarily, these three pressed in. It's worth noting these three seemingly already had a relationship in place that offered them a chance to do so. But do not let a lack of close relationship be an excuse to shy away. If we know of particular suffering, sorrow, or deep pain we can no longer claim ignorance; pray earnestly for ways to minister. Then do it. It doesn't have to be anything magnanimous, but it could potentially mean the world to the one in deep hurt. Just the other day a precious mama whom I don’t know particularly well sent me a “random” message that was so aptly timed and deeply ministered to my broken heart at the right moment. The Lord knew what I needed when he prompted her to reach out to me, and she listened to that prompting. 

Presence is powerful.  

These three friends sacrificed their time, their health (exposure to Job's illness), their own physical comfort (sitting in ashes and ruins on the ground for seven days and nights), their own desire to "fix" things (at least for a time), their emotional comfort (wept and mourned with him), and their words for silent presence. They sat upon an uncomfortable heap with flies buzzing and the stench of flesh wounds and graves hovering nearby.

Showing up when another is in the valley of darkness is NOT meant to be comfortable. I doubt Job was “comfortable” as he sat broken and exposed in this grief. Lest we become too pridefully critical of Job's friends in later chapters, we do well to remember it is a heavy and often wearisome duty to press into the broken, suffering, and anguished.  

I'm hopeful there were perhaps others called (and obedient) to be present in other ways amid Job and his wife's tragedy. Did they show up to sift through the rubble of the home destroyed by natural disaster that killed their children? My heart is heavy for his wife. Did anyone show up for Job's wife as these three did for Job? Were there any gentle women joining her in the house to weep with her or practically serve these seven days? Is she suffering in an unwelcome lonely silence? Was she forced to wait upon these extra three visitors amid her own deep grief? Or is she weeping alone in the rubble of her children's graves?

Don't underestimate the power of presence amid the darkest valley of another. Brothers and Sisters, we have much to learn from Job's friends those first seven days. Let's not waste it. Prayerfully consider the degree you are called to be present in someone's darkest days. Then show up.