|
This is an excerpt from Grief and Grace , a book I have written (available October 2007) for families going through the pain of losing a baby. This particular portion of the book is a guide for friends and family of the bereaved to know how their words and behaviour may affect their loved one.
Job
Many writers quote Job in the beginning of his suffering: ‘The Lord gave and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.’ As though this somehow negates a sufferer any right to grieve, mourn, and wail at the loss of a much-loved child. Job did pronounce these words rather boldly considering his ordeal; however, the bulk of the book he spends in anguish and asking the age old question, ‘Why?’
Freshly grieving families consider their life to be stuck right in the middle of the book of Job, where the pain seems endless and comfort minimal. The bereaved do acknowledge Job’s words quoted above, but right now, in the thick of things, they are living out the words of his deepest despair.
How many of you love reading the book of Job? Is it one of your favourite books of the Bible? How many of you can remember a time in your early Christian walk when the book of Job was hard to understand, hard to relate to? I remember the first time I reached the end of this book and thought, What was that all about? It took the reading of a child’s Bible version before I even had an inkling of what had happened. I even wondered why he took offence at his friend’s words. After all, what they said sounded true and reasonable; they were calm whereas Job was hysterical.
Most of us can hardly enter into Job’s meaning when he writes of deep suffering unless we too have suffered. Augustine concisely sums this up when he says: ‘The words printed here are concepts. You must go through the experiences.’ While in the concept stage, I tried to steer clear of this book of the Bible. However, many years later, on reaching the experience stage (the loss of a baby) the book came alive as I read again the words of a man acquainted with grief. I couldn’t put the book down, it mirrored my own thoughts and feelings; here I found an understanding person, someone who knew.
We can probably all remember responding to a grieving person like we were one of Job’s miserable comforters. It is easy to behave in such a way, especially if we have not yet suffered the loss of a loved one. Advice comes hastily to our lips. We know just what they need to hear, what they need to do. However, when it is our time to experience grief, and it does come to everyone, we are the first people to know just what not to say.
We have this inbuilt desire to do something in the midst of situations out of our control. Often this is borne out in our giving of advice to the grieving person. We need to ask ourselves, ‘Are we advising for their benefit or ours?’ The answer is often the latter. Most advice offered in the early stages will not be beneficial to grieving people, as they are still too shocked and numbed by their loss to be able to activate any thought or reasoning process. This is a perfect time to find some appropriate scripture and pray your advice for them. Petition the Lord with His Word on their behalf. This is far more practical and more likely to help at this stage than is any advice you could offer.
After Grace died, I found immense comfort in the writings of Job. Though he suffered far more than I have or probably ever will, simply knowing his thoughts and feelings helped me somehow. The significance of Gods placing the book of Job in His word is not lost on any grieving person. He thought it important enough to include for our benefit and teaching (2 Timothy
Job’s friends came to mourn with him, and to comfort him. They wept when they saw him in such an altered state. As they sat with him for seven days and seven nights, not a word was spoken to Job, for they saw that his grief was very great (Job
Job obviously trusted his friends and thought they had come to give him some sort of comfort because he now shares his innermost thoughts and feelings. He took seven days and seven nights, but now Job opens his mouth to speak from the anguish of his heart; in his vulnerability he speaks. Now, because Job’s friends were believers in the doctrine that sin equals suffering, and because, in their experience, they had never encountered a righteous person suffering for no apparent reason, when they saw their friend in this situation they thought it must result from some hidden sin in his life. They weren’t compassionate or caring; they wanted to set him straight. His friends were basing their uninformed assumptions on their own limited experience. Commenting on the why to another person’s suffering or on how they should act during that time should never be measured by our own experience. We need an objective standard (the Bible), not our own subjective one. We know he must have been shocked and disappointed at the response he got to his candid outpouring because of his words in the following verse: ‘To him who is afflicted, kindness should be shown by his friend . . . ’ (Job
Pain seems particularly hard to bear when it comes from someone dear to us, our close family or friend. Maybe you can identify with David when he said, ‘For it was not an enemy that reproached me; then I could have borne it . . . But it was thou, a man mine equal, my guide, and mine acquaintance. We took counsel together, and walked unto the house of God in company’ (Psalm 55:12–14). What was David’s response to his friends failing him? David’s response was to cry out to God in whom he found true comfort.
A grieving person’s speech may seem to be empty, but friends should hold their peace (Job 11:3). To a person not in the midst of grief, the ravings of the bereaved may seem unwarranted. Their intense and passionate words offend non-sufferers. Again, if you can just put yourself in the griever’s position, you will see that his grief drives him to speak so. He has no idea how long he can bear living like this. He craves the kindness of his friends, and he doesn’t want disappointment added to his suffering, especially when he hasn’t asked for it. A grieving person wants comfort, not a sermon.
Job finds no relief in speech or silence. If he speaks, his grief is still there. If he remains silent, nothing changes. He wonders how long he can go on. His friends offer him no hope; they speak of light at the end of the tunnel, but all he can see is darkness. Peace, peace, they cry, but there is no peace. He cries for compassion from his friends, but they have nothing but empty words to throw back at him. He looks to the past when he was happy and had all his children around him, when he looked forward to the future with hope.
‘A disaster is despised in the thought of one who is at ease’ (Job 12:5). It is easy for us to sit back in judgement when we are not going through the same thing.
‘What you know, I also know’ (Job
Job recognised the truth in the law of love, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’. (Matthew 7:12) He knew this many years before it was spoken by our Lord in the New Testament. ‘I also could speak as you do, if your soul were in my soul’s place, I could heap up words against you, and shake my head at you; but I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the comfort of my lips would relieve your grief’ (Job 16:4–5). Job’s friends could not understand what he was going through; they didn’t suffer with him as if they themselves were suffering.
How often, when we don’t understand a situation, do we place blame on the sufferers, thinking their actions, lack of belief, or just plain old sinful nature must be the cause of this grief? Behind the assumption that they must be to blame in some way is our belief that bad things don’t happen to good people. Basically, someone holding this point of view believes you get what you deserve. At the core of this belief, behind our very actions, is the concern that if this can happen to a person who has done nothing to deserve it, then it could happen to anyone—it could happen to me. This is a scary thought for most people. The realisation that this could be you frightens most folks. Like Job’s friends we want to label and compartmentalize suffering—if you do wrong then you will suffer, if you do right then you will be blessed. If only life were that simple.
Is it any wonder Job feels helpless and alone in the face of such opposition as he laments the fact he has been abandoned by his friends and family? He already knows what they know, but he knows more because he can see that they have no wisdom and charges them with being miserable comforters. Their clichés and arguments are of no value to him. How often have we let this same belief creep into out own thoughts. How many of us believe that if we live right, do good deeds, all will be well? We may not openly express our thoughts, but our actions and reactions certainly bear this out.
The book of Job brings with it a healing and comforting balm for a wounded spirit. The fact that he, too, thrashed about while trying to come to grips with his suffering reminds us that grief is not easy. And his honest ramblings touch the same nerve that often reverberates through many grievers. This holds a huge amount of comfort for someone in pain. Job knew what it was like to wish he had never been born. He, too, wondered why the miserable are given life and light. He knew his eye would never see good again. He spoke from the depth of his being as he struggled with the fact that life is painful. He knew that we live for a few days and most of them are full of trouble. He knew that we are like a flower that fades and a shadow that flees, and that our speech brings no comfort and our silence threatens to smother us. He knew that there is nowhere to turn. No one to turn to except to the very One who comes to us in our suffering; the very One who speaks to us in our affliction. Only His presence can fill and satisfy our emptiness.
Job also knew that after a time most would-be comforters become impatient for the griever’s life to get back to normal—they can’t see why it takes so long to get over it. They feel obliged to rush you through the pain and they know that they can help you. If we examined our own hearts regularly, we would see it is our own impatience that wants our friends better, now. It is not for their benefit. We don’t have the stamina to endure alongside them and bear their burdens.
In the end, Job does not have his questions answered, but he does have a new revelation of God. Like most grieving people when they see death up close and personal they also see their smallness in the face of such power—or lack of it—and this brings Job and many others to a new revelation of God. Job knew of God, he had heard of Him, but now he has this clear vision of who He is. ‘I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You’ (Job 42:5—italics mine).
The final scene has God telling Job to pray for his friends, and then God restores all he has lost and more. ‘Indeed the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before’ (Job 42:10).
Is there a lesson in this for us? Yes: Forgive our friends because they do not understand or realise the effect their actions have (Luke
‘Also do not take to heart everything people say . . . ’ (Ecclesiastes
The Lord will bless you abundantly after your time of suffering and loss, though our view of a blessing and God’s view may be very different. So, look for those blessings to come in whatever way, shape, or form God sends them.
Is there a lesson in the book of Job for our friends? Yes: Before rushing in and advising a grieving friend, make sure your motivation is clear and you are not just acting on your own good ideas. None of us knows God’s purpose in allowing some things to happen; let’s just leave it there and not try and explain something we don’t and cannot understand. Let us instead learn from Jesus Himself when He said, ‘I desire mercy . . . ’ (Matthew
‘And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you’ (Ephesians
And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of vast eternity can fill it up! ~Charles Dickens Sometimes when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated. ~Alphonse De Lamartine http://grief.missionhq.org/ |
Comments
|
|
|
|
|
Posted by Susan Rodger
|
|
|
|
|
Posted by