March 2025:

When there are no words

Sometimes there are no words, no words that can bring comfort, no words that can heal, no words to express the pain you feel.

In the book of Job, one of the stories written in the TANAKH, we learn about a man who loses everything. He loses his family, his wealth, his home and his health. Some commentators think this is a book about a man being tested. Job was a good person, and terrible things happened to him, but he never abandoned his devotion to God. He does, however, question God, and he wishes that he was never born and even prays for his death on account of his suffering.

Job’s friends come to him to comfort him, and because they believe that human suffering only happens to those who bring it upon themselves, they argue with him and try to get him to confess his guilt. That way he might atone and be done with his suffering. Job refuses and professes his innocence until, at the end of the book, God comes to answer Job. God leaves Job with an unsatisfying answer; humans are not capable of understanding the reason behind the suffering of the innocent.

This book contrasts with the rest of the bible because it asserts that human suffering is not necessarily deserved. It tells us that believing that all suffering is deserved will cause people to find fault where there is no fault and that ultimately there is no real way to understand the meaning of suffering because it is beyond human comprehension.

“When they saw him from a distance, they could not recognize him, and they broke into loud weeping; each one tore his robe and threw dust into the air onto his head. They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights. None spoke a word to him for they saw how very great was his suffering”- The Jewish Study Bible JOB 2.12-13

From these verses, the Jewish practice of sitting shivah is derived. The custom in a house of mourning is that the visiting friends and community wait until the mourner is ready to speak before speaking of the departed themself. This is because sometimes there are no words. Often the greatest act of compassion is one of silence presence.

When we reach for words and platitudes, they can undermine the suffering of an individual whereas silent companionship provides the comfort of not being alone. It is what is passed through touch and is seen in each other’s eyes that can convey what words will never be able to fully express.

About a month ago, I stood under an awning watching the rain with a friend in mourning for the loss of his wife. We talked about the power of being a witness to another person’s pain. He said in these last months he has learned that it is not just about bearing witness to pain but also to joy and in a broader sense to other peoples’ lives at large.

In Judaism, we are asked to sit with the mourner, but we are also asked to visit the sick, to rejoice with the wedding couple and to be witnesses at baby namings. We are asked to show up for each other — not with words, but with our presence.

Last month we learned about the fate of the Bibas children. After months of hope that they might still be alive, we were faced with the grim reality of a horror beyond words. On Sunday night members of the Portland community, (some who have been meeting for the last 70 weeks to stand in solidarity with the hostages), both Jew and non-Jew gathered to see the Morrison bridge lit up in orange to bear witness to our collective grief for this family. While there were words, songs, flowers, candles and rocks for remembrance it was ultimately an act of witnessing.

We grieve with you. We are here, and there are no words.

Rabbi Sarah Rensin

If you are in need of spiritual care, you can contact me at:
661-644-4614 (Mobile)
503-226-7079 x740 (Office)
rabbisarah@jfcs-portland.org

To read past blog posts, visit the Rabbi Rensin Corner archive here.