Empty words or silences full of comfort?

Reflection by MaryBeth Mutarelli

    This Lenten season, I have been thinking about emptying out some less than desirable of my  personality traits, and working toward replacing them with  more God-centered, positive ones. I want to work on replacing chatter with presence.

     I recall the times I have rushed to the side of a grief-stricken ,hospitalized,  or seriously  ill, friend or loved one. My visits, and interactions, were, upon honest reflection, both good and bad. I was motivated to go to them by my concern and empathy (good).  I wanted to comfort them, and remind them they were not alone (good). I believed I could understand some of what they were feeling, drawing on my own experience, or what others in similar situations had shared with me. (Good and bad?) I think this attempt to empathize is a good starting point, but only for opening a conversation, leaving the direction and content of the discussion entirely up to my friend.  No one can completely know what another is experiencing, and if I presume that, then I have cut off communication.  It’s very often not a one-stop visit that is needed, but I am afraid I was quite quick to cross the duty off my list.  If, in fact, I had maintained the visits into the future (when the impact of a loss or tragedy really hits), I’m sure I could have been a better friend.

     I remember being uncomfortable with tears and silence.  I rushed in with trite platitudes, slapping a quick band-aid on a gushing wound.  Instead of care and concern, I fear some of my words and phrases had the opposite, and unintended effect.

     I am going to try to model myself after Job’s three friends-the FIRST time they visited him in his devastating trouble.  They sat with him for seven days and nights without saying a word.  While I won’t be silent, and I won’t stay that long, I can let it be silent. I can listen more, and speak less.  I can empty out the use of words to fill the silence. I can trust that my presence “speaks for itself.” Lastly, I can stay involved and in touch, and be the friend I’d like to have.

“I’ll never forget my first experience as a chaplain in the trauma room.People wanted answers (or maybe it was just me who wanted answers or words of wisdom) but I soon learned that all I had to offer was my presence. Only later did I realize: that’s just what Christianity is.…In moments of grief and loss we are afraid and doubting and we want answers just like the disciples did 3 days after Jesus died.  But all anyone can really do is be with us and make some casseroles. And when that’s all we have to offer it can feel like not enough but the truth is that is Christianity. Presence and stories and meals and defiantly believing that death is simply not the last word.”

~Nadia Boltz-Weber from “A Sermon on Snacking and the Stupid Things People Say.”