ʿāṣaḇ: Shaped by Pain
“Jabez was [heavier] than his brothers; and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, ‘Because I bore him in pain.’
Jabez called upon the God of Israel, saying, ‘Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!’ And God granted what he asked.” (1 Chronicles 4:9-10)
As explored a couple months ago, names are important because they speak purpose and identity over us.
Out of her birth pains, the mother of Jabez gave her son a name that would fundamentally mean “giver of hurt and pain and torment and grief.” (Ouch!)
Pain here in the Hebrew is the word ʿāṣaḇ (aw-tsab’), which yes, does translate to pain and vexation, but also is a word that means “to form or shape,” typically in the fashion of an idol to worship.
When Jabez makes his plea to the Maker to “keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain,” I believe there are two additional layers of meaning to what he’s saying.
First, he is not only saying that he wants his life to be free from pain, but that - as his borders are being expanded (a statement of household purpose and legacy) - he does not want to bring pain upon others.
At the beginning of his life, pain came from him and was spoken over him, yet out of this foundation of pain, his longing is that nothing that extends from him would invoke further hurt.
If ‘hurt people hurt people,’ perhaps Jabez is seeking a kind of healing and redemption that would establish his household on a better, more God-honoring and restorative alternative.
Second, where we have not attuned to our pain - where we haven’t presented our suffering before the Man of Sorrows and the Mighty Healer - our pain will reveal and bolster our idols.
Jabez is requesting that God would prevent any pain that he has endured (or caused) from fashioning another god in whom exists the offering of a cheapened anesthetic to numb and disassociate from a very real agony - an agony for which Christ is moved with unending compassion.
Yet is that not ultimately the promise of idols: to either make ourselves into a god, or at least remove ourselves of the pains and limitations that make us human?
Jabez knows pain, along with the alluring promises of other gods to instantly quell pain, but he is leaning into the only God who truly heals: Yᵊhōvâ rāp̄ā'.
I share this reflection today out of my own need to experience this truth, in the thick of significant chronic pain in my body this week, and I invite you to join me (as I attempt to join Jabez) in praying:
Lord, keep us from harm so that it might not bring us pain.
Lord, keep us from hurting others out of our pain.
And Lord, let our pain not move us towards the forming of new idols.
God, you are Yᵊhōvâ rāp̄ā', our mighty Healer. May we trust you today.
Amen.