“Friendship 101: Lessons in What (Not) to Do from the Book of Job”

Job 1:1, 2:1-10

Sunday, October 7, 2018
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

I want to preface this morning’s sermon by addressing a question you might have as you’re looking at the sermon title. “Is she really going to preach on friendship 101? Today? Doesn’t she know that many of us are worried that the whole world is going to hell in a handbasket?” Yes. I know many of us are worried about the state of democracy. I’ve been doubling-down this past week on the spiritual practices that sustain me in challenging times and I’ve been cursing the patriarchy and white supremacy and xenophobia and fear.

And, yes, I am still going to preach on friendship. Because I believe that difficult times call for a focus on things that matter. And I believe there are few things in life more holy in this world than friendship. I believe we worship a God who created us for love and I believe what the world needs right now is people who are willing to wage kindness each and every day and focus relentlessly on loving God and our neighbor as ourselves. And so, yes. I am going to preach a sermon on friendship.

The Book of Job opens like this: the heavenly beings are bored and the Adversary and God get into an argument about a man named Job, who is righteous and blameless. The Adversary sees an opportunity to have a little fun and says to God, “Well, of course he’s a nice guy. You’ve been protecting him. We’d all be nice if our lives were perfect like Job’s. But I’d be willing to wager that if things started to go poorly for your friend Job he’d start singing a different tune.”

And, just like that, the stage is set for Job’s torture. The answer to that ancient question, “why do bad things happen to good people?” is this: “Because the heavenly beings thought it would be interesting.”

Not a great answer, from my perspective. I find the entire book of Job so very troubling. This poor man. He loses everything...his livestock, his home, all of his beloved children. And all because of a cosmic bet.

For 40+ chapters we watch Job receive terrible counsel from his “friends” and argue with God. In the end, we’re meant to believe that there’s a happy ending. Because Job learns humility and learns to trust that this very mean God has his best interests at heart, he gets everything back. All’s well that ends well….I guess?

I have to say, although I don’t find particularly helpful answers to the question of why bad things happen to good people in this story, I do at least appreciate that it’s in the Bible. It gives me some comfort to know that people have been struggling with this question forever. And, in a weird way, I find it reassuring to know that even the people who wrote these stories and canonized them into our holy scriptures couldn’t answer the question fully.

Another thing about this book that I find to be immensely helpful is that it’s a crash course in how to be a good friend. Or, perhaps more accurately, the Book of Job shows us what NOT to do.

Even a cursory skim through the text reveals an immediate problem with Job’s three friends. There are TOO MANY WORDS. Like, WAY too many words. Anyone who has ever been going through hell and back knows that the last thing you want when your life is wrecked is a friend who shows up to deliver a speech. Especially an esoteric philosophical discourse. NOT HELPFUL.

They start out strong. The three friends come to Job and sit with him for a full week, “and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was great.” But then they do what so many of us are tempted to do when things are terrible. They start trying to FIX IT, explain it away: “God’s ways are not our ways. Whatever is happening is God’s will and even though we don’t understand it, it’s for the best.” And also, “Job, you must have done something wrong. Search your heart. Figure out what your sins are. Confess them to God and then everything will get better.”

You’ve heard these speeches before, right? When a person loses a child: “I guess God needed another angel in heaven.” When someone receives a brutal diagnosis: “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” When someone is assaulted: “Maybe next time you’ll remember the buddy system.”

How can we avoid heaping on MORE pain when someone we love is already hurting? Well, there’s not a one-size-fits-all answer but here are a few suggestions:

First, if you’ve not read about the “ring theory” coined by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman, I encourage you to Google it. [1] The short version is this: when something terrible happens to someone, they are at the center of a series of concentric rings. The next people out are immediate family, extended family, close friends; acquaintances, colleagues, neighbors. The person in the center gets to complain as much as they want to anyone else. And the people who are on the next ring out will also be struggling because it’s a lot to support the person in the center. They also get to ask for support...but only to people further out. The rule is, “Comfort in, dump out.” When we are trying to be a good friend in the midst of a difficult time, it’s important to be mindful of where we are located in this series of rings.

Second, when we offer support, do it in a concrete way. Instead of saying, “Let me know if I can do anything to help,” try, “I’d like to bring you dinner. How about Tuesday?” We should always allow refusal, but it’s better to ask them to opt OUT instead of IN because it’s so hard for most of us to admit needing help.

Regardless of whether you know how to be practically helpful, don’t turn away. Even when you’re worried you might say the wrong thing or don’t know what to say, show that you care in some way. Send a note in the mail. Leave a message and make it clear they don’t need to call you back. Tell them you’d like to come visit. You can sit and say nothing. Turn on the TV and stare at it silently. Just be. Together.

In a world where so very much seems to be out of our control, making the daily decision to show up for those who are hurting is a heroic act. When things get hard, we sometimes want to turn inward. And there are certainly times where we all need some space.

But we humans are made for community. We are made for love and friendship and care. When we show up for each other, there is nothing sweeter. When we get it wrong, the Holy whispers words of grace to us, encouraging us to try again tomorrow.

Learning to be a good friend may time a whole lifetime….and every moment we spend practicing is time well-spent.

[1] http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/07/opinion/la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407