Job used to be famous for his wealth and greatness. Now he's famous for his problems and suffering. These friends are going to "sympathize with him . . ." The Hebrew verb nud refers to body movement — shaking back and forth, nodding the head. We see this sometimes when people experience trauma and go into shock, rocking themselves back and forth like a mother with a baby.

The friends' love is so strong, their grief is so great, that they plan to sit next to him and take on his anguish. "When they saw him ... they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads." They had heard it was bad, but nothing prepared them for this. Usually when you visit someone in bad condition, you try to cheer them up and tell them it's not so bad. Have you ever been so sick that when someone came to visit, they took one look at you and burst into tears? There's no use pretending.

The story continues: "Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was."

It is worth pausing here for a moment. Imagine sitting with someone in silence for seven days. This was such a powerful act that it became part of Jewish life;

To this day the Jews will speak of sitting shiva — literally "sitting sevens." Friends will come and sit with one who mourns over a period of a week.

This incident with Job is perhaps the greatest example in Scripture of what Paul commands in Romans: "Mourn with those who mourn."

He doesn't say, "Find an explanation to give them about why they're suffering" or "Remind them everything is going to be okay, so they can stop crying now."

It is worth noting that after the seven days are over, Job's friends will speak — a lot. They will get into trouble for what they say. As with his wife, Job's friends have taken a lot of heat over the years, and for good reasons. Their words are not so hot.

But their silence was brilliant. Their silence was a gift. Maybe the best way to mediate God's presence to someone who is suffering is to sit with them in silence.

Finally, after seven days, Job speaks. We wait to hear what he'll say. If he can just repeat what he says in chapter 1 — "God gives, God takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord" — the test will be over. It will be a short book.

"After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth."

This is the kind of thing that keeps Job off the motivational speaker circuit. I can guarantee you that Anthony Robbins or Charlie "Tremendous" Jones never say, "When your life is hard and torn, just curse the day when you were born."

Job goes on to request that that particular day be removed from the calendar. He requests "May those who curse days curse that day." (He doesn't tell us who "those who curse days" are; it seems like a limited profession.) For the next twenty-eight chapters Job pours out a level of bitterness, confusion, sorrow, and anger toward God that is staggering. He wants to know why God has forsaken him.