Keeping Silent

“And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.” – Job 2:13

“Tis hence Orestes, agonized with griefs / and sore disease, lies on his restless bed / delirious. / Now six morns have winged their flight…” – Euripides, Orestes

I listened to a talk once by Nancy Guthrie about dealing with grief. She said one of the things that hurts most is when other people don’t acknowledge your grief. When they avoid you, avoid bringing up the name of the person who died. You don’t have to worry about saying the right thing, she said. Just say or do something to acknowledge it in some way. In her book What Grieving People Wish You Knew, she says the best way to start is by letting the grieving person take the lead: “Determine in advance and discipline yourself in the moment to listen more than you talk. Some of us have a lot of words. We feel awkward with silence, so we tend to instinctually fill it up with words. But there is great power and comfort in simply showing up and being willing to sit in the silence and listen… Instead of driving the conversation, hold back.”

That was what Job’s friends did here. They got down with him on the ground. They sat with him the entire time of mourning, they saw his grief, and no one spoke a word. One can’t help but feel this was probably the best thing they did the entire book, and indeed Job says later, “Oh that you would keep silent, and it would be your wisdom!” (13:5) 

The way we love sometimes is to listen, without having to fix or analyze. The gift we give sometimes is our presence, our attention to the person before us without distraction or agenda. The way to wisdom sometimes is silence.