At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.” Job 1:20-21
“If there is any word that summarizes well our pain, it is the word “loss.” We have lost so much! Sometimes it even seems that life is just one long series of losses. When we were born we lost the safety of the womb, when we went to school we lost the security of our family life, when we got our first job we lost the freedom of youth, when we got married or ordained we lost the joy of many options, and when we grew old we lost our good looks, our old friends, or our fame. When we became weak or ill, we lost our physical independence, and when we die we will lose it all! And these losses are part of the ordinary life!
But whose life is ordinary? The losses that settle themselves deeply in our hearts and minds are the loss of intimacy through separations, the loss of safety through violence, the loss of innocence through abuse, the loss of friends through betrayal, the loss of love through abandonment, the loss of home through war, the loss of well-being through hunger, heat, and cold, the loss of children through illness or accidents, the loss of country through political upheaval, and the loss of life through earthquakes, floods, plane crashes, bombings, and diseases.
Perhaps many of these dark losses are far away from most of us; maybe they belong to the world of newspapers and television screens, but nobody can escape the agonizing losses that are part of our everyday existence — the loss of our dreams. We had thought so long of ourselves as successful, liked, and deeply loved. We had hoped for a life of generosity, service, and self-sacrifice. We had planned to become forgiving, caring, and always gentle people. We had a vision of ourselves as reconcilers and peacemakers.
But somehow — we aren’t even sure of what happened — we lost our dream. We became worrying, anxious people clinging to the few things we had collected and exchanging with one another news of the political, social, and ecclesiastical scandals of the day. It is this loss of spirit that is often hardest to acknowledge and most difficult to confess. But beyond all of these things there is the loss of faith — the loss of the conviction that our life has meaning. For a time we were able to bear our losses and even to live them with fortitude and perseverance because we lived them as losses that would bring us closer to God.”
Henri Nouwen in With Burning Hearts: A Meditation on the Eucharistic Life (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1994) 24-26.
What does a lengthy post on “loss” have to do with the generous life. Today’s Scripture sums it up perfectly. Sometimes the Lord gives, and sometimes the Lord takes away. In all things we must worship the Lord, holding on to rather than abandoning our faith and urging others to do the same.
But it’s really hard in times of loss. I remember, as spiritual advisor to the founding owner of the Colorado Rockies, Jerry McMorris, it was hard to encourage him to hold on to his faith. When we were together one day, I asked him what it was like being in such a high profile role.
He said, “Gary, when things go well, you are on top of the world. But when things are bad. It’s really bad.” Then he turned and concluded. “The highs are high and the lows are low, but the lows are lower than the highs are high.” Maybe that’s why he appreciated our friendship? I journeyed with him in highs and lows and encouraged his faith.
If you are experiencing losses right now, or you know someone who is. Sit with Job and remember to worship in these times. Give thanks for all circumstances. Also, remember to encourage others because life is really hard, but Christ is with us and allows losses to draw us closer to Him.