When Job suffered the loss of his wealth, his children, his health, three friends traveled to comfort him. They remained there for seven days.
But things went sour. They heard Job protest his innocence before God, and they felt they needed to speak up. There ensued a debate that became ugly.
Job then called his friends “intermittent streams” (6:15), “worthless physicians” (13:4), and “miserable comforters” (16:2). He sarcastically challenged their claim to be wise (12:2, 13:12), and finally asked them to just go away (19:2). Something went wrong in their efforts to help.
On a practical level, we discover some important things to keep in mind when offering comfort.
Just go. Sometimes people will avoid a grieving person—perhaps wanting to be polite, perhaps uncomfortable in hospital corridors or at funerals. But, the resulting loneliness deeply upset Job. “My relatives have failed, and my intimate friends have forgotten me” (19:13-21).
To comfort the bereaved, you don’t have to stay long, you don’t have to bring food, you don’t have to buy flowers. Just a quick touch—the fact that you showed up at the door without going in—will be appreciated and remembered for a long time. Generally, grieving people don’t need space, they need love; as Job’s friends initially provided (2:11).
Also, check on the bereaved in the weeks and months after a great loss. Don’t be a pest; but don’t be a stranger. They need love, lest grief take them too far away from the Lord. “For the despairing man there should be kindness from his friend; so that he does not forsake the fear of the Almighty” (6:14).
Silence is golden. Job’s three friends did their best work when they sat quietly with him (2:13). Often, when approaching the door or casket, we struggle to figure out what to say. We don’t need to say anything at all! Often, it’s better to give a tender hug and sit down quietly (13:5). It’s definitely the wrong time to try to lighten the mood (Prov. 25:20).
If we do speak, we must be careful. It is easy to say the wrong thing. Eliphaz, in his first rebuttal, suggested that if Job would be faithful, “your descendants will be many” (5:24). Did Eliphaz realize that he was pouring salt in Job’s wounds? Job had just suffered the death of his children! A time of grieving requires sensitivity. Don’t put your foot in your mouth with clumsy comments (Prov. 10:19).
Don’t play God. It is so tempting to say things like, “God has a plan,” or, “It was his time,” or, “It is better this way.” Perhaps, but who are we to say? As Job said to his friends, “Will you contend for God?” (13:8). Often, these presumptuous assertions just make grieving people angry.
Bereaved people don’t expect you to make it all better. Job asked his friends, “Have I said, ‘Give me something,’ …or ‘deliver me from the hand of the adversary?’ ” (6:23). Job wasn’t looking for solutions or answers; just a shoulder to cry on. It’s easy for a non-sufferer to launch into a lengthy discourse about the meaning of life. Job said, “I too could speak like you, if I were in your place” (16:4). Grievers don’t need to have all their cosmic questions sorted out. They just need time and comfort. Later, there will be a chance for trusted advisors to deal with the questions of life and purpose.
Be patient. Grievers say things they don’t mean, seemingly questioning God’s fairness. There leaps to our mind a passage of Scripture to contradict the inaccuracy. Realize that bereaved people are emotional not rational; they should be allowed latitude for a while. Almost every time, they later reconsider their unguarded words.
Job says, “my words have been rash…” (6:4). Who knows what any of us would say or do, in the depths of such terrible loss? “The words of one in despair belong to the wind” (6:26). Let grievers vent for now, and let the wind carry the words away. Simply provide a nod and sympathy, until cool-headed reason can return.
—John Guzzetta