Friday Read: The Ministry of Presence
Job's friends showed up when disaster struck. For seven days, they sat with him in silence, grieving with him (Job 2:13). This was actually beautiful - the ministry of presence, sitting with suffering without trying to fix it. But then they opened their mouths and ruined everything. They offered explanations, assigned blame, insisted Job must have sinned to deserve such suffering. Their words were theological garbage, but their initial presence was gold.
We're terrible at being present with suffering. We want to fix, explain, or minimize pain rather than simply sitting with it. When someone shares their struggle, we immediately offer solutions, Bible verses, or stories about how someone else had it worse. We're uncomfortable with pain we can't resolve, so we try to talk people out of their emotions rather than accompany them through them.
Romans 12:15 says to "weep with those who weep" - not "fix those who weep" or "explain to those who weep why they shouldn't be weeping." Just weep with them. Be present. Acknowledge their pain. Sit in the mess without trying to clean it up. This requires emotional maturity most of us lack - the ability to be with someone's pain without it threatening us, to witness suffering without needing to solve it.
When Mary and Martha's brother Lazarus died, Jesus showed up. Martha ran to meet him with theology: "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you" (John 11:21-22). Technically true, but she was hurting. Mary came and fell at his feet weeping. Jesus' response? He wept too (John 11:35). The shortest verse in Scripture captures the power of presence - Jesus could have explained death's purpose or preached about resurrection, but instead he entered their grief and wept with them.
This matters practically in February when seasonal depression hits hard, when Valentine's Day reminds single people of their singleness or couples of their struggles, when winter seems endless. People around you are suffering - not dramatically, but quietly. They need presence, not platitudes. They need someone to sit with them in the darkness, not someone to turn on all the lights and insist it's not really dark.
The next time someone shares their pain, resist the urge to fix it. Don't offer solutions unless asked. Don't minimize their struggle by comparing it to others'. Don't spiritualize their suffering with cheap theology. Just be present. "I'm so sorry you're going through this" is often more helpful than any advice. "That sounds really hard" validates their experience without trying to solve it. "I'm here" is sometimes the most loving thing you can say.
God promises his presence in suffering, not always his intervention. "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you" (Isaiah 43:2) - notice it says when, not if, and through, not around. He doesn't promise to remove every hardship but to be present in it. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give suffering people is modeling that same presence - being with them in their pain without needing to fix it.
