Not right now

I was reading the blog An Unfinished Symphony, and was stopped by this post.    It's about Jason Gray's song called Not Right Now.  The first link it to the blog post, and there you can read the lyrics.  The second link is to a YouTube video of the Jason singing the song, if you would like to listen to it (go listen to it).

Sometimes, I think, when a friend is hurting, we don't know what to say.  Sometimes, I think, when  friend is hurting, we just want to FIX it.  This song reminds us that there are times - perhaps more often than we know - that the best thing to do is to be present and just listen.  Offer no judgement or answers or reasons - just listen.

Think about Job and the visit of his friends.  At first, before they started talking, they just listened.  They were quiet.  They were present.  It can be a reminder to us of the necessity and possibilities of just listening.

From Jason's song:

While I wait for the smoke to clear

 You don’t even have to speak

 Just sit with me in the ashes here

 And together we can pray for peace

 To the one acquainted with our grief

I know someday

 I know somehow

 I’ll be okay

 But not right now

Graceful Silence

In the devotional I read today, Henri Nouwen said:

Moments of true compassion will remain engraved on our hearts as long as we live.  Often these are moments without words: moments of deep silence.

I was reminded of the book of Job.  When Job was in despair, his friends came and sat with him in silence.  For a while, they said nothing at all to him.   I imagine that must have been a comfort; to have friends who would sit in silence, not trying to fix anything, not giving advice, not seeking explanations, just being.

Job 2:11, 13 Now when Job’s three friends heard of all these troubles that had come upon him, each of them set out from his home—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They met together to go and console and comfort him. ....They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great. 

It was when the friends started talking that things went downhill.

Silence can be uncomfortable.  I was trying to imagine this morning what it would be like if a friend came into my office and shared grief.  Would I be able to keep watch, sitting in silence, if that was what was needed?  I hope that I could.

Silence can be a gift, and it can be an act of compassion.  It's not the only way to respond, but it can be one choice of grace.

Job or not?

The book of Job has always been a challenge for me. Over the last few years, I have come to appreciate it much more, but there are still parts of it that "bother" me.

Today, as part of my Disciple reading, I read Job 38-39, part of 40 and chapter 41. These are the great passages that are God speaking, telling Job (or maybe not Job) that he is God. God.

Chapters 38 and 39 come right after one of Job's "friends," Elihu, has a speech. I have always assumed that in Chapters 38 and 39, God is speaking to Job. What if, though, in 38 and 39, God is speaking to Job's friends, including Elihu? What would that do to the conversation?

At the end of Job, God makes it clear that Job has done nothing wrong, and yet the tone of these two chapters is one of anger. God arrives in a whirlwind. This word in Hebrew, according to what I read, is most often associated with God's wrath. Why would God express anger when he later makes it clear that Job did nothing wrong?

It makes sense to me that God is speaking to Elihu and his friends. He isn't pleased with these friends at all.

Job is asking questions. Job doesn't understand what is going on. His friends, on the other hand, are almost taking the role of expressing God's judgment. Are they stepping into God's role? Doesn't it make more sense that God would be angry with one who was trying to assume his place rather than someone who was questioning him in order to understand him better?

Between Snow and Easter

It's April. It's spring. And it's snowing. I can't believe it. Tomorrow's Easter, and it's an Easter in April (not in March!), and it's snowing.

This weekend at our church is our prayer vigil -- 3pm Good Friday to 7am Easter morning. Steve and I were leaving church last night to take G to an event near our house, and it was snowing. We wondered if we were going to be able to get back down our hill in the morning to fill our time slot in the vigil.

This morning I read the devotional from Disciples. The scripture really struck a chord with me, especially on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter -- a snowy Holy Saturday:

Job 14:14-17:

If we humans die, will we live again? That's my question. All through these difficult days I keep hoping, waiting for the final change—for resurrection! Homesick with longing for the creature you made, you'll call—and I'll answer! You'll watch over every step I take, but you won't keep track of my missteps. My sins will be stuffed in a sack and thrown into the sea—sunk in deep ocean.

I wonder sometimes if we live on the Saturday before Easter. We don't live on Good Friday, with its death without hope, we don't quite live on Easter yet, with its hope fulfilled. We live in between. We live on the edge of Easter, with snow all around.

What do we do? How do we fulfill God's will for us when we live in the in-between. We have hope, we have faith, we have community, but we live in the now and the not yet. I think the other scripture for today answers that question:

1 Peter 4:7-11 -- This scripture really speaks to me, especially today:

• Stay wide-awake in prayer -- On the day when I'm involved in a prayer vigil!
• Love each other as if you life depended on it -- What a wonderful command.
• Be quick to give a meal to the hungry (Common Grounds), a bed to the homeless -- cheerfully -- Sometimes we aren't very cheerful about it, if we do it at all.
• Be generous (!) with what God gave you, passing them around so all get in on it.
• If words, let it be God's words -- I'm teaching tomorrow; these are words to remember.
• If help, let it be God's hearty help -- Is that a play on words? Hearty help?

And then it ends with, "That way, God's bright presence will be evident in everything through Jesus, and he'll get all the credit as the One mighty in everything—encores to the end of time. Oh, yes!"
Amen. I just think those versus are an excellent way to spell out what we should be doing in this in between time -- between the now and the not yet -- between the snow and the bright light of resurrection.

Images: Thanks so much to Jeff the Methodist for the images today -- they were just what I needed. Snow on dogwood, and a cardinal and goldfinch on the T's family bird feeder.