Job's Friends

I've always disliked the Book of Job. The idea of God laying a bet with Satan to test the strength of Job's faith by hurting him and taking everything away that he loves is a disturbing idea, to say the least.

But there is one important message I heard in reading the story, and that is the reaction of Job's friends.  Job's life is being whittled away bit by bit.  He has lost his crops, his livestock, his family.  He is truly aggrieved.  Job's friends live a distance from him, but they come together and decide to go to Job in order to help him mourn.  For the first seven days, they merely sit with him, quietly.  They do not say a word.  They support him, let him have his sadness, be there with him in his time of trial.

But finally they speak. And what they say to him is that it is his fault, he has sinned.  He deserved what he got.  And then they give him advice.  And they do not stop giving him advice. For pages and pages they give him advice.  And even when Job tells his friends that they are "miserable comforters," they still will not shut up.

Want to know my favorite part of the Book of Job?  After pages and pages and pages of advice giving, God finally speaks from a whirlwind, and  basically says to Job's friends, "Who are you to talk?"  And then he tells them to shut up.  Best moment ever.

What impressed me in the story was the seven days his friends sat with Job and comforted him.  I know I've been guilty of wanting to fix things for a friend, giving advice instead of comfort. But really, the most valuable thing a friend can provide is quiet and steady support.

And that's what I've learned to value.  My friend Lisa who offers to come over and keep me company. My friends Deborah and Carole who would drop off delicious food on my porch. My friends Emmy, Jo Ann, and Sheila who came with me to doctor appointments.  My friend Ann who would send books and little surprises through the mail. My Aunt Carole and Uncle Mike who came with me to chemo and took care of me after my surgery. My nephews Josh and Ben and my sister Meg who came to DC several times to help me maintain my house and just keep me company.  My cousins Diana and Bob who drove down from Pennsylvania, in spite of troubles of their own, to tend my garden and fix a few things. And many, many more people who did  many, many more things.

These are the actions that matter. This is a friend.

As Henri J.M. Nouwen so aptly stated, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."

The lesson of the Book of Job?  Mourn with a friend, sit with a friend, and shut the heck up.  That's a lesson I sure need to remember.  I'll shut up now. I'll be here for you when you need me.