It’s sometimes easier to feed someone than grieve with them, says Natalie Williams. But Jesus asks us to do both
Have you ever had your heart broken? If you have, even if it was a long time ago, you can probably recall how painful it was.
When we talk about broken hearts, our culture tends to assume we’re talking about romantic relationships. But Victorian preacher, Charles Spurgeon, spoke about how our hearts can be broken by poverty, disappointment and even sin. His examples included: “A friend forsaken by one to whose very soul he was knit…when a kind friend to whom we have always told our sorrows betrays our confidence…the desertion of a man by his fellows…the ingratitude of children to their parents…the betrayal of secrets by a comrade, the changeableness and fickleness of friends…”
However our hearts have been broken, we worship a God who cares and comes close (Psalm 34:18). He tenderly heals and binds up the broken-hearted (Psalm 147:3).
The Father cares, and the Son relates. Jesus knows what it feels like to have a hurting heart; he is described in Isaiah 53 as “despised and rejected…A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (v3, NKJV); afflicted, wounded, crushed, chastised, oppressed and stricken.
In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was deeply distressed and troubled, telling his closest friends: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38).
Jesus knows what it feels like to have a broken heart. But he is also the “Wonderful Counsellor” (Isaiah 9:6) who can bind up those broken hearts.
It’s hard when we can’t fix a situation or take away someone’s pain
As his followers, we are called to be like Jesus and to do his work. In 2 Corinthians, Paul refers to the “God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (1:3-5).
Isaiah tells us that the anointing of the Holy Spirit is given, in part, to “bind up the broken-hearted” (Isaiah 61:1). As someone who is committed to social action, I am more comfortable giving food to someone who is hungry than weeping with someone who is heartbroken. But the Spirit anoints us to do both.
I have a friend who, many years ago, lost a child. She recalls that several people simply avoided her afterwards. It’s hard to grieve with those who grieve. It’s hard when we can’t fix a situation or take away someone’s pain. But sometimes all we need to do is sit with someone in their heartbreak, listen, even weep with them.
What could it look like for us to live this out in our communities – binding up broken hearts, comforting those who mourn, and helping people walk the hard path from ashes, mourning and despair to the beauty, joy and praise that God promises (Isaiah 61:3)?
Jesus carried our grief and our sorrows. He’s inviting us to imitate him and to bring healing to the heartbroken around us.
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