The Compassion of Silence

In the previous chapter, messenger after messenger arrives with the disastrous news that Job has been stripped of everything—family, lands, servants and possessions. Job’s response is still to worship God, refuting Satan’s accusation that Job’s faith was conditional on God’s abundant blessings.

Not to be defeated, Satan now ups the ante. He says, “Okay, he didn’t falter when his possessions were taken away, but certainly he will curse you if he has to suffer physical pain.”

God gives Satan permission to touch his body (but not his life), so he inflicted Job with painful sores from head to toe. That’s physical pain to be sure. It was also social isolation. In that culture, open sores meant exclusion from social contact. So Job sat alone among the ashes – except for his wife, who didn’t help much by mocking him for holding on to his integrity.

Eventually, his friends heard about his calamity and arranged to come together to bring comfort. They were clearly not prepared for what they found. Job was scarcely recognizable, and they were so shocked they tore their robes, sprinkled dust on their heads, and sat speechless for seven days, observing the ritual of mourning the dead.

Sometimes that’s all we can do in the face of suffering!! Sit in silence. And often that’s what we ought to do. Some suffering is so devastating that words are almost insulting—yet how often we try to explain it as if that helped. We may say, “Words are so inadequate!!” and then go right on talking when our silent presence would convey far more compassion.

When have you been so moved by someone’s suffering that you have simply sat with them in silence? When have you needed someone to express that kind of compassion to you?

Respond in Prayer

O Lord of compassion, open my eyes to those around me who are isolated, uncared for, and feeling abandoned. Teach me how to be a comforting presence. Give me your wisdom to discern when compassion requires my silent presence instead of any feeble words I might have to offer. Amen.

Lynn Smith