Week 3: Faith & Friends Series

There was a study done in 2004 which found that the number of people without any close friends tripled since the last study in 1985. Nearly a quarter of the people surveyed said that they have no one in their life that they can confide in (America Sociological Review, June 1, 2006). We live in a lonely world and friends are a priceless commodity—a precious blessing from God. So, when we hear that Job had three friends who came to comfort him in his distress, we rejoice for him! (Peter Metzger) Unfortunately, this well-known saying applies to the companions Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar. “With friends like these, who needs enemies!” As we continue our sermon series on Job and ponder how to find peace on the unpredictable path of life, we want to learn how faith should intersect with friends who are hurting.

Just as we did when talking about Job’s wife in last week’s sermon, we do want to put the best construction on the words and actions of Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar. You love to hear how, when they heard about Job’s suffering, “…they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him” (2:11) The three men didn’t wait for an invitation. They took the initiative and went to Job. They understood that “being there” for someone doesn’t mean just saying, “Call me if you need anything.” No, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar left their families, homes, and jobs to be present with Job. (Pete Metzger)

When they saw Job, they were shocked. They hardly recognized their friend. They wept aloud, tore their robes, and sprinkled dust on their heads. They wanted to share in Job’s sufferings, even if a little bit. Of course, following their lead might not go over so well in our culture. If you visit someone in the hospital and wail at the sight of them, it might seem as if you are saying: “Oh wow. You look really, really bad—much worse than I thought you would!” Perhaps you can skip the wailing and simply sit with them. Take their hand rather than shrink away from them. Assure them of your presence and your love.

What else is impressive about Job’s friends is that they sat with him in silence for seven days! Would you be able to do that—sit in silence for seven days? We’re uncomfortable with seven seconds of silence! But silence can be good. One grief counsellor described it as “sacred silence.” To share “sacred silence” means that we’re OK just being there with our friend and we don’t feel like we have to fill the silence with platitudes—like saying to someone who just lost a parent or grandparent, “Well, at least he lived a good long life,” as if the length of his life makes the death OK or less painful.

Sharing “sacred silence” is different than avoidance. Sometimes we can end up withdrawing from those who are in pain because it makes us feel uncomfortable to be around them. One pastor spoke about a parishioner who had been active in serving and helping others, but when his wife passed away, no one reached out to him. He sat at night wondering why his phone didn’t ring with people checking in on him. We can help others, even people we don’t know well, find peace on the unpredictable path of life when we reach out to them and show them that we are willing to walk with them and hurt with them.

Job’s friends made a good start in that regard, but as soon as they started to speak, they added to Job’s misery. It seems that they were reacting in shock to what Job said when he finally broke the seven-day silence. Job cried: “May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’ 4 That day—may it turn to darkness; may God above not care about it… 11 Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb?” (Job 3:3-4a, 11)

How do you react when people cry out in anguish like that? My kneejerk reaction is to tell them that they really don’t mean what they say—that what they’re going through isn’t THAT bad, or that with a little patience, they will get through it. But such rapid-fire responses are not helpful. It tells the suffering individual that I’m not trying to understand their pain. Instead, I’m downplaying their anguish and in so doing I’m dismissing the suffering individual.

This is exactly what Elihu did. Elihu was a fourth individual who spoke to Job. He was younger than the other three friends and so had remained silent, though just barely, while the others spoke. Elihu stated with pomposity: “It is not only the old who are wise, not only the aged who understand what is right… 18 For I am full of words, and the spirit within me compels me; 19 inside I am like bottled-up wine, like new wineskins ready to burst. 20 I must speak and find relief; I must open my lips and reply… 31 Pay attention, Job, and listen to me…be silent, and I will teach you wisdom” (Job 32:9, 18-20; 33:31a, 33b). Elihu comes off as a theologian who was going to set Job straight. (John Jeske)