What Motivates us as we Respond to Someone’s Pain?

Platitudes and Painkillers

We live in a society, and at a time in history, where we expect for pain to be dealt with quickly. Something hurts, and we reach for painkillers. If one doesn’t work, we try something stronger. We expect these medicines to help and if they don’t, we’re off to the doctors demanding more options. I’m not disagreeing with that. I hate pain! The problem comes when we want to extend that same philosophy to emotional pain, in ourselves and in others. When we see someone suffering, our first instinct is often to reach for a “painkiller” and give it to them. We want to offer them instant relief, however unrealistic that may be. We feel the burden of having to do something to help, of having to say something to fill the silence of unanswered questions. We don’t know what to say, and so if we do say anything, we’re in danger of falling back on the familiarity of platitudes. That’s what people say in such situations! We’ve heard it said before! Our emotions don’t necessarily engage as we speak. We want to make it better. We want to cure the pain.

Grieving the Pain

When we experience loss in our lives, whether it’s the loss of a loved one or the loss of a dream, or loss of health, then we grieve. We need to. There is no way to go through the grieving process without it hurting. When we encounter someone in their place of suffering, then words that seek to anesthetise without acknowledgement of the pain are likely to be perceived as a brutal criticism or a total lack of sensitivity. If we have not listened and have not been prepared to learn, how can we even attempt to offer a solution? For that’s what platitudes are often trying to do.

No Words can Make it Hurt Less

When I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, it was devastating news. I couldn’t walk at the time, so that made it all seem so much worse, as did being in hospital for the 10 days immediately following the diagnosis. Our journey through the last six years of infertility has been a roller-coaster of emotions that only those who have shared such a journey will be able to understand fully. There is nothing that anyone can say to me that can make the pain of living with MS and the pain of not having been able to have children better. Don’t even try to make me feel ok about it. It’s not ok. Don’t give me reasons as to why it’s happening, promises of health and pregnancy, or your theology of suffering and faith. None of those “answers” does anything to encourage me. Unless invited to do so by the one who is suffering, it is not our job to impose any of those subjective responses, and that is not what is needed. When we realise that, it’s actually very freeing.

Questioning our Motivation

The first question to ask ourselves as we consider how to respond to those that are going through suffering is what our motivation is? If we want to provide a “painkiller” then, we need to ask ourselves whether that’s for their benefit or ours. I believe most of us would instantly protest that it’s for the benefit of the person suffering. There is sincerity in the protest, but take time to consider. Is it really for their benefit that we want to speak? If we’re honest with ourselves, isn’t it uncomfortable for us to see someone suffering? Do we want to make it better partly to get rid of our own feelings of discomfort? Are we prepared to give them the gift of time and of listening rather than a quick platitude that effectively puts a safe barrier between us and their pain? We want a platitude that makes the world feel ordered again. Our world. Theirs may feel like it’s tumbling down, and a platitude may feel like the extra stab that makes it happen a little faster. Can we listen to, and acknowledge, their pain to such an extent that we may come to understand it more and empathise with them. It hurts to share the pain. Are we prepared to feel the pain so much that we may be moved to tears? Are we prepared to enter into their world rather than to push our expectations as to how they should be responding?

He Came Down

In Jesus, we have the perfect example of how God entered into our world. Another name for Jesus is Immanuel, which in Hebrew means, God WITH us. That’s what God did for humanity. In the person of Jesus, He came down to earth, to be with us in our mess, in our pain, our confusion and our questions. He didn’t expect us to jump up to heaven to be with Him. He knew we wouldn’t make it. He came down. He met us where we’re at. If we want to follow His example, and whether or not we are Christians, I would argue that this example is a good one to follow as we look at the issue of platitudes, we need to be present with people. We need to get down in the dirt with them. We need to be prepared to understand their life and feel their pain, to be with them in the tears, the snot and the mess. We cannot look down on them and expect them to jump up to the lofty heavens of joy, hope and faith as we utter platitudes from a comfortable distance.

Listen, Affirm and be Prepared to Learn

I’m not saying that those who are suffering can’t find joy, hope and faith in the midst of their pain, but if we’re not prepared to listen and to affirm, then we cannot even think about trying to point them towards anything positive. If we have not engaged and sought to understand the extent of their pain, then we don’t have anything to offer them and would do well to remain silent. Particularly if we don’t have experience of the issue involved, then we have a lot to learn. It’s ok to say that you don’t know what to say. It’s ok to ask the person how you can best support them. It’s ok not to have all the answers. When we listen to one who has suffered then maybe that act of listening is not only for their benefit. Many times those that know what it is to suffer have much to teach us too, nuggets of gold that we could benefit from, if only we would listen more and speak less. That’s the topic for my next post.