Elisabeth Elliot, in her book, These Strange Ashes, makes the point that a God fearing life does not mean that we are immune or exempt from the troubles of the world. Perhaps that is why the story of Job has always fascinated me. He was involved in a cosmic match of power. I suppose we all are to some extent, but Job was different, more so. The devil actually approached God and challenged him to see if Job would be faithful when he had nothing. Job’s story stretches over 43 chapters and it is a story of intense suffering. My favorite part of the book, apart from when God shows up, is the reaction to Job’s suffering. I think that the people in the book give us great examples of how we should minster to people who are suffering: through encouragement, our presence, and compassion.
Suffering has become a weighted word. It covers so many different struggles that we often don’t think it’s applicable to us or those around us, especially in light of worldwide suffering. But that doesn’t make the pain less. For the purposes of this speech, I want you to think about all the terrible things we encounter. For some, that’s death. Sometimes it’s divorce or betrayal. Not all of us have encountered a Job-like situation. But we’ve been around people who have been in situations like divorce or the death of a loved one, and we always will. For that very reason, we must study and learn from Job’s situation.
The first person to input her opinion on Job’s suffering was his wife. In chapter two, she tells him to “curse God and die.” Not the most encouraging words for someone in intense suffering. I think there’s definitely a possibility that, since her situation was directly tied to his, she wanted to short-cut the suffering. Much like the doctor we’ve all encountered who barely listens to the symptoms and rattles off some prescription because he wants to get through his patients quickly; we often want to give a quick solution before actually examining the problem. But if Job had taken this advice, he would have sinned and the challenge would’ve been won by the devil. I’m sure this was tempting to Job. At this point, he had lost all his wealth and family, he’s covered in painful sores from head to toe. Death was appealing. But he was faithful. Job was unique – he was God’s example of “blameless, upright, a man who feared God and shunned evil.” Not everyone is like that. If we can learn any lesson from the example of Job’s wife, it’s to encourage those we know who are suffering.
Encouragement isn’t something to check off the to-do list. It’s an intentional change in our lives. Merriam-Webster’s defines encouragement as a means of spurring someone on, helping them go forward. It certainly takes longer than a five minute phone call to accomplish that. The other day in class, Kirschner addressed this issue. He gave us a list of do’s and don’ts for when we encounter the suffering. Many had to do with the issue of encouragement. He suggested that we read books on the subject of miracles and healings. There’s nothing more encouraging than remembering that we serve a God who is powerful. Of course, the disclaimer attached to this one is that we should be careful not to stake our faith on it. We have to let God be God and not come to view miracles as an obligation of him. Another way to encourage someone suffering is with practical service. Help them with day-to-day chores that would help relieve them of some stress. Jonathan Acuff, author of Stuff Christian Like, was reminded of how much a simple meal can be an encouragement. In his blog post on the article, he humorously analyzes the type of food that’s appropriate for certain tragedies, but he hits on an important truth: Christians do an excellent job of providing meals for each other. But I think the most important way to encourage someone suffering is to simply listen. Let them talk and express what they feel.
The most powerful example of this in my life was one day last May, when my friend and I were at Wal-Mart. We met a woman at a photo kiosk that had just lost her husband. Of course, that wasn’t the first thing she said to us. But as we listened to her story, it became clear that she just needed to talk about him and their life together. She spent everyday at Wal-Mart, scanning literally hundreds of pictures to cds because she couldn’t bear to be in their home without him. She told us about their childhood together and her very first kiss from him-a butterfly kiss. The mood completely shifted as she spoke of his death. “I’m mad at him,” she insisted. She paused. “On our last anniversary, he promised me twenty more,” she said, as her voice cracked slightly. Tears running quickly down her cheeks, she told us about the funeral, and her little granddaughter’s haunting sob that they had left Grandpa. Throughout all of this, it was so clear that she simply needed someone who would listen to her. When we left we knew that, in some small way, simply talking had lessened the burden.
The second group we meet in Job’s story are his friends. In verses 11 through 13 of the second chapter, we get a picture of what I think our encounters should look like. “When Job's three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite, 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. Then 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.” I love this passage. They wept with him, they didn’t speak for a week after they arrived – they engaged in his suffering. It’s a great precedent to have when it comes to dealing with our friends as they suffer.
The three friends were wonderful until they open their mouths. After Job expresses real emotion in response to their suffering, his friends almost reprimand him. They all blame his faith or lifestyle for the suffering brought onto him. They attribute it to God, to correction. Job’s reaction is not one of the comforted. He is increasingly distressed by each friend’s speech. As I read through this a couple years ago, I became convicted of something in my own life. Sometimes, when we encounter hard times in our friends’ lives, we rush in with clichés and actually hurt their faith and make their suffering worse. My friend Sarah, whom I’ve talked about before, lived in an abusive home for years before she told me. By the time she did tell me, the physical abuse had stopped, but her father continued to emotional abuse and manipulate her. Often, she’d call me in tears. At 17, with literally no life experience, I had no idea what to say. Sometimes I’d just cry with her, sometimes I’d try to reason with her. Now, she’ll say that I wasn’t that bad, but I know that I made it harder for her sometimes. People don’t want to hear that God is trying to build your faith. They want to hear that God’s crying with you. And sometimes they don’t even want to hear that. As much as they want to know why, the answer will never satisfy them. Don’t try to explain, sympathize. Show compassion.
The woman Katie and I met in Wal-Mart had gotten a dose of religion that replaced compassion. She described the minister, comforting her, and all the well-meaning people using the cliché “He’s in a better place now.” “How can it be a better place,” she wondered, “if we’re not together?” The pain on her face spoke more than any amount of talking ever could. The tone of her voice slid from the gloomy, melancholy tone to a dark, anguished one. I don’t know what to say in that situation. But I know that admitting that is okay. People don’t expect you to know how they feel – how can you truly know? But a lot of times, they just want someone to be there, to show them that someone cares.
At some point, even already, you’ve encountered someone who is in a hard season of life. Maybe you said and did the perfect thing. But maybe you’re in the same category as me: you don’t know what to do. You’ve said or done the wrong thing, you haven’t cared enough, you’re still learning. And that’s okay. But let me remind you of Job and the example of the people in his life. Don’t be Job’s wife and tell them to curse God and die. Encourage them. Be there with them. Take a lesson from Job’s friends’ reaction. Go to them, mourn with them. But don’t blame them. Don’t give them some b.s., religious talk about enduring the suffering. Show them the God of compassion and sympathy.
