I don’t often watch brand-new television shows. Too often, my tastes apparently don’t match the general public’s, and a new show I’ve come to enjoy gets cancelled after just one season.
Maybe I just caved-in to all the advertising, or maybe the show’s setting (health care) caught my attention, but my wife and I began watching a new show (NEW AMSTERDAM) that premiered last fall. In the show’s initial episode, the lead character asked the same question on multiple occasions in a variety of settings. That question – “How can I help?” – got me to thinking.
More often than not, I tend to ask, “Is there something I can do?” To ask how I can help, though, implies at least a couple of things –
1) There is, in fact, something I can do to help, and
2) I’m willing to do whatever it is that would help.
“How can I help?” seems to connote a bigger, more generous commitment
on my part.
They saw how great his suffering was...
Sometimes, many times, the most effective thing I can do is to simply be there. I don't need to speak, I don't need to do, I simply need to be present. In the Old Testament book of Job, after Job lost virtually everything he had, we read that three of his friends traveled to be with him in his grief. Upon their arrival, they simply sat with him in silence, because they saw how great his suffering was.
This world bears frequent witness to horrific fear, violence, and suffering. The mass murder of peaceful worshippers in New Zealand this week is simply the most recent example. It seems every week, sometimes every day, we hear new stories of hatred and violence being angrily inflicted on others. The frequency and scale seem ever increasing, yet it is precisely in the midst of such chaos that we must ask ourselves, “How can I help?”
I suggest we begin by taking our cue from Job’s friends, those who sat with him in silence. We are far too quick to share our thoughts, our opinions, on causes or solutions. There will be ample time, and, sadly, far too many opportunities, to consider them. However, to start with strident, angry, or condescending accusations serves only to diminish the significance of the losses themselves.
It is precisely in the midst of such chaos that we must
ask ourselves, "How can I help?"
The Jewish tradition of “sitting shiva” is a structured and intentional act of mourning a loss, typically lasting seven days. Like Job’s friends, I’d suggest we spend the first stage of our mourning in silence, refraining from hurling accusations, prescribing remedies, or casting blame. Then, let’s begin the next step, not by shouting, but by listening – to one another, to those more deeply affected, to God – as we work to move forward together.
Working together is the only realistic possibility we have of addressing the issues at work in these situations. There is hatred and darkness on every side of the political, cultural, and moral spectrums, and as Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. reminded us so eloquently, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
So, “How can I help?” First, with my silence. Then, by listening quietly. Finally, and only when appropriate, through offering and accepting opportunities to come together in the light and love of God’s truth until, one day, there is no room left for the hatred and anger that drive so much of life today.
We can help. We must help. It is our calling.
