A long time ago, a blameless man lost his livelihood and his family in one day. How would you expect an upright person to respond to such grief? How would you respond?
Job 1:20-21 shows this man’s response and, if you’re a Christian, it will give you direction for your own grief.
He Grieved
Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground… (Job 1:20a)
I once attended a funeral for a young child. The child’s father, a Christian, smiled tranquilly throughout the service. I wonder if he felt tranquil or if he felt obligated to project tranquility.
Many think that mature Christians should not experience or express grief, but Job’s example teaches otherwise. He tore his robe, shaved his head, and fell on the ground, demonstrating physically, visibly, publicly, and dramatically the pain he felt.
When you’re grieving, don’t stifle your tears. Don’t minimize your pain by saying, “Other’s have it worse.” Don’t constrain your emotions. Cry. Talk about how you feel. Be honest. Find a physical outlet for the tension. Even Mr. Rogers pounded the low tones on his piano when upset.
You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling. When you stub your toe, it is not sinful to feel the pain or even to say, “Ouch.” When you lose your parent, spouse, child, or friend, you can say, “Ouch.”
Godly grief is still grief. Saintly sorrow still hurts. But it is different from sinful sorrow in one very important way.
He Grieved Worshipfully
Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. (Job 1:20)
What did Job do there on the ground with his shaved head and his torn robe? Did he distract himself with his smartphone? Did he numb himself with booze? No, he worshiped.
We usually think of worship as a congregation singing joyfully, eyes closed and hands raised. Here we see worship in a different context.
To worship is to embrace and respond to God’s worth. You can do that by singing. You can also do that by grieving.
How does one grief worshipfully? Let’s consider what Job says while worshiping there on the ground.
And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” (Job 1:21)
First, he acknowledged his fundamental nakedness. We don’t bring anything with us into the world and we won’t take anything with us when we die. Life is like Monopoly. We collect things during the game, but when it ends, it all goes back into the box.
Second, he acknowledged where his gifts came from. The LORD gave. The reason it hurts so much to lose a husband is because he was a good gift. The reason he was a good gift is because the Giver is good. The gifts are expressions of the Giver’s goodness.
It is sad that we can’t keep the gifts forever. But through faith in Jesus, we get to spend forever with the Giver.
Think of it this way: A husband gives his wife a beautiful bouquet. She loves it. She posts pictures of it on Instagram and places it in the center of their house. But within a week, it begins to wilt. And that’s okay, because everyone involved understood that the bouquet was a temporary expression of the husband’s love and goodness.
This is how it is with God’s gifts in this life. They are temporary expressions of his permanent love and goodness.
Third, he acknowledged who took the gifts away. The LORD has taken away.
Job could have accurately said, “The LORD gave and the Sabeans have taken away. God gave me my farming success and a fire has taken it away. He gave me my family and a windstorm has taken them away.” But he looked beyond the immediate causes for his losses to the sovereign Lord behind them all.
Our losses are not random. They are not interruptions in God’s care for us. They don’t defeat his purposes for us. God folds them in with all the other things he orchestrates together for our good (Romans 8:28).
And so Job can say in the end, not “Cursed be the name of the LORD,” but “Blessed be the name of the LORD.” And so can we.
