We’ve all said it. Or thought it. Or nodded our head at the person who earnestly parroted it at a church small group, “Let Go, Let God.” It’s usually spoken in concern over a friend battling unseen, untenable circumstances. A divorce or cancer or wayward children cajoles others to say dumb things. Because silence in spiritual conversations is never allowed and always out of bounds, we reach down into the depths of our Christian bumper sticker library and say with confidence, “Let go, let God!”

[sigh]

WHY WE DO IT

I don’t judge too harshly those who fill awkward space with Christian clichés. I really do believe our thin veneer of answers is actually born out of a deep place of compassion. But still. This saying (and others like it) have got to go. They’re the worst. And unhelpful. And theologically cheap. And pastorally dangerous. Let Go, Let God needs to die.

THE ALTERNATIVE

What I assume the good-intentioned person is trying to say is, “Step fretting. Stop worrying. Let go of your tendencies to control and embrace the God who loves to take care of his children.” But instead, we settle for candy-coated sayings that turn us into “miserable comforters” (Job 16:2).

I would suggest a few alternatives.

#1 Be quiet. If we’re going to do anything, let us say nothing. Not talking can be an active grace. That is, we do not have to give our commentary on someone else’s pain. We should never feel the need to explain their loss. Job’s friends were most wise when their mouths were firmly closed—when they mourned and wept alongside him (Job 13:5)

#2 Pray with them. And for them. When a friend is hurting, the most good we can do is plead with heaven to intervene. Our God loves to heal and to draw close to the broken-hearted. (Matt. 11:28-29). This moves us to cry out and entreat the God of Universe, who has plainly shown us his love through his crucified Son, to work on behalf of those who have nothing to offer but their ache. 

#3 Comfort them with the promises of God. The most dangerous thing about platitudes is they are rarely rooted in gospel, kingdom-of-God truth. Clichés become formulas for a kind of Christian life that has no power–a lucky-charm kind of faith. But God’s promises are arrows that strike the bullseye of our pain. When loneliness or addiction or fear strikes we can arm others with verses like Isaiah 41:10, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

So, next time you’re in earshot of someone who is on shaky ground, restrain yourself from giving syrupy answers. Instead, love them. Serve them. Hug them. Let them grieve. And don’t give them the slop of cheap clichés.