Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been pretty overwhelmed. So, I’ve followed the advice mantra that’s all over the place — I admitted how I was feeling and expressed what I wanted, honestly describing what would be most helpful.
But I didn’t get what I said I wanted. Instead, I was told bluntly that what I wanted wasn’t possible and that I wasn’t going to get it. I was given another mantra that routinely echoes through the success-oriented business and personal world — find one small thing I could get or do and take action on it. It’s not the first time it’s happened, and I doubt it will be the last.
Pain, not empowerment
The latter mantra is, admittedly, intended to be empowering. Taking even a tiny level of control is supposed to challenge feelings of helplessness and remind a person they still have some autonomy. Yet, as I was handed the instruction, I didn’t feel empowered. I felt alone. Misunderstood. Unheard.
The reason isn’t rocket science. Instead of meeting meeting me where I was and simply acknowledging my want, people essentially were telling me to move past it and to settle for something else. There was no true empathy, only the expectation that I could be my own heroine if I just decided to and tried hard enough. Instead of being told the want was normal and reasonable under my circumstances, instead of having the chance to talk about how those circumstances felt, to connect to another human being and simply feel everything related to the want, I was pushed to solve the problem.
How Jesus’ miracle with Lazarus shows the absurdity of the one-small-step mantra
We have heard the mantra of “take one small action” so many times that it’s become nearly automatic to repeat it. In its familiarity, it sounds logical and loving, especially when psychologists and other experts are the ones to spew it. But its callousness becomes obvious if you imagine Jesus recommending it in one of the most famous stories from the Bible.
After Lazarus had passed away, his sisters, Mary and Martha, were struck by the agony of grief. All they wanted was their brother back (John 11).
What if Jesus had told Mary and Martha, “Getting Lazarus back is impossible. So, what other small step can you do today to feel better?”
Do you think Mary and Martha would have felt very empowered? Very comforted?
Jesus wept with them for a reason. He knew that they were not in the frame of mind to take any action for themselves. The story is clear that Jesus meant to use Lazarus’ death to confirm Who He was and to foreshadow what He would do on the cross. But He also gave Lazarus back to Mary and Martha simply because Lazarus had no substitute. Nothing but their brother would ever be sufficient to remove their pain.
Jesus did not try to pacify Mary and Martha. He did not try to distract them from their grief by getting them to go do, and He didn’t put the burden of healing on their shoulders. He simply empathized, felt with them as they felt, and then met the request of their heart. With that gift, He legitimized the want and taught them just how much they could trust in the love of God.
When the want or need is appropriate, God delivers (and we should, too)
Ours is a culture that lauds independence. We are taught to cope with stress, rather than to fix the brokenness that causes it. But when we look at Jesus’ treatment of Mary and Martha, we don’t see Him ignoring what they really wanted or needed.
This doesn’t mean God always gives us everything we want — often, what we want is unhealthy or sinful.
But when our need or want is sensible and healthy for our experience, when it is the thing that most properly addresses the root of the issue, He delivers.
Shouldn’t we do the same?
Realistically, there might be times where it is difficult to offer someone what would be genuinely helpful. We don’t always have the right resources, knowledge, or skills. But we can try to look past the biases that might prevent progress. We don’t have to automatically say “can’t” or “won’t” in hurtful dismissiveness. And if we exhaust our options to find that we cannot give the resource or change in circumstances, we still can sit with another person and acknowledge the want or need they have. We don’t have to make them feel like they shouldn’t want or need it, or as though they have to work even harder alone. If they know we at least tried and are willing to weep with us, as Jesus wept, that counts.