Last week’s episode of Ted Lasso has internet folks buzzing with hot takes on how the titular character sat with his assistant coach, Alice Chilton. In short: she has a moment — and it’s a hard one. Her usual armor crashes to the floor, and she breaks down emotionally.
What does Coach Lasso do? He sits with her. He says nothing.
Internet commentators call this “holding space” for her. That nomenclature bothers me, but essentially, yes — that’s what’s happening (it is not a bad term, I just tend to bristle at the sound of it). Here’s how I’d describe it instead: he sits in the grief with her. He doesn’t fix it, or try to. He doesn’t offer platitudes — and Lasso is great at platitudes. He doesn’t let the awkwardness of the moment control him. He simply sits, and lets her feel his presence, for whenever — and if ever — she’s ready to share more.
And yes, this was a good bit of humanity on TV.
So — what should you do when someone is grieving, suffering, or having a moment in front of you?
Do that.
It reminds me of Job. You remember the story. Job is a man of great faithfulness, and — due to a challenge from Satan — God allows him to be put through the wringer. He loses nearly everything. Then his friends show up.
The typical hot take from Bible readers is that Job’s friends leave him worse off, burying him in sketchy theological advice. And that’s fair — eventually, they do. But what’s often forgotten is how they start. Job 2 tells us his friends sit with him in silence for seven days and nights. They don’t speak. They just sit with him.
This is the root of the Jewish tradition of sitting shiva. Before Job’s friends make the mistake of offering advice, they hold space — silently — for his pain. And when we do praise those friends, it’s precisely for this: for showing up and saying nothing.
So what do you do in the presence of deep pain, raw feeling, someone whose circumstance is beyond the reach of platitude?
Don’t rush to speak. Don’t rush to offer anything but silent presence.
So I’ll weigh in on Ted Lasso like everyone else: good job, Coach, for showing audiences a genuinely emotionally mature way of being with others. Turns out it’s also theologically accurate — and faithful.