Third Sunday of Lent: The Truth of Friendship

The language of friendship is not words but meanings.

It is an intelligence above language.

-Henry David Thoreau

A number of years ago I was involved in the development of a Christian renewal movement within our denomination. One of the directions of the movement was “evangelism” which at that time (mid-1970s) was not quite as loaded a word as it has become. In any case it was a gentler version that we talked about in that movement. It was based on “friendship” with the mantra being

• Make a friend,
• Be a friend,
• Introduce your friend to Christ.

Not a bad idea in and of itself. It was always based on the idea that when something is important to you, or touches you deeply, you are almost always ready and willing to share it with your friends. We often talked about how when we see a good movie or read a good book, we are excited to share it with friends. Our natural conclusion was we should be ready to do that with our faith.

There were those, however, who saw it from a slightly different angle. They saw it as a technique to win souls. I am over exaggerating a bit, but it became for some, “Let me find some non-Christians, befriend them, and then when they are ready I’ll talk about Jesus.” (As I said, an over-exaggeration, but you get the idea.)

The problem with that was often in the reasoning and not in the ideal. Becoming friends with people had turned into a technique to get someone to believe. In its most raw form it lacked the true heart of both friendship and evangelism. It lacked caring and compassion and was simply the often seen “numbers” game of “How many have you saved today?” It was “Who can I make friends with?” not “Who needs a friend?”

A big difference!

I always liked the “Make…Be…Introduce” approach to evangelism. I still do. I liked it because it was how I became a Christian.

A close friend and his family befriended me when I needed it. They reached out to a lonely teenager whose mother had been sick and died. They were already friends before my mom got sick, but they saw a greater need than just being a friend. They became a second family with many hours spent with them. They eventually invited me to church with them. Of course they did- it was an important, an essential part of their life. Why wouldn’t they want to share it with me? They weren’t out to “win souls”; they were out to help me be introduced to their friend Jesus.

It took a number of months for me to say okay to their invitation. When I did, I kept going back. They knew I needed something and were sure that Jesus would be right for me.

They were right! The rest is my own history. From my baptism at age 15 through college and then seminary, years of being a pastor and a counselor until now, just two months shy of 55 years later, their friendship at that important point in my life made all the difference! They were kind to the hopes I didn’t know I had and to the dreams yet undreamt!

Friends . . . They are kind to each other's hopes. 

They cherish each other's dreams.

-Thoreau

I have had many friends over these 55 years. They have all known about my faith in its various stages and understandings. Some were members of my church; many were not. Some were Christian; some were not. My faith always informed my relationships. Again, not because I wanted to win them to Christ, something I cannot do, but because my faith is who I am. I can no more separate my faith from my personality and personhood than I can change the color of my eyes or the genes of my European ancestors.

I reflect on all that today with the quotes from Thoreau for this Sunday of Lent. It is tempting to use the friendship thoughts to think about my friendship with Jesus or God. (What a friend we have in Jesus / All our sins and griefs to bear…) That is naturally the foundation. Instead, what I have been led to this week is to think about the friends I have had- and the friend I am being. Jesus’ friendship toward me is the model of what friendship means.

• It means openness to the friend and their needs. 
• It means supporting their hopes and dreams for them.
• It means sharing my hopes and dreams with them. 
• It means caring and compassion, not asking for anything in return. 
• It means grace.

All trite cliches I know, but cliches become time-worn because they are true and get repeated.

• Lent reminds me of the spiritual path of friendship as Jesus himself lived it.
• Lent reminds me of the treasure of friendship that I have been given by and with my friends.
• Lent reminds me of the gifts of friendship that I have to offer to my friends.

[S]urely my Friend shall forever be my Friend, and reflect a ray of God to me,

and time shall foster and adorn and consecrate our Friendship,

no less than the ruins of temples.

-Thoreau

• This Lent, how am I living out my friendship to others?
• This Lent, how can Jesus teach me more about being a friend?
• This Lent, how can I grow in my closeness to God through Jesus?
• This Lent, how can all these be consecrated by the Holy Spirit working in me?

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, 

not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; 

it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one 

when you discover that someone else believes in you 

and is willing to trust you with a friendship.

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Friends

I have been thinking a lot about old friends in the past year. One reason is the obvious- like me, my old friends are also getting older. A second was brought about by the death of a really special friend last year, a friend from whom I had been disconnected for many years due to distance and changing times and places. I managed to visit him six weeks before he died and I will be grateful for that final opportunity.

Over the years I have made several moves, halfway across the country. We have developed many friendships in these different places. But some of these are hard to maintain over such time and distance.

When one is younger, we don't think about the end of life times. Even when friends die at an early age it doesn't truly register that someday this will be more common. My college roommate died in our mid-20s. Then two of my best high school-era friends (one from my high school and one from Illinois that I had met at a summer program) died of AIDS in our 40s. These were not the rule, however. These were exceptions. Sure, the losses hurt and I grieved. But it didn't spur me as much as it could have to maintain connections.

Maybe being past the mid-point of my 60s and the death of the friend who was truly unique in my and my wife's life got me thinking in new ways. As a result in the past year I have made two really important reconnections. One was with a high school friend and then with my college friend and his wife for whom I was best man at their wedding and he was mine. Both of these relationships were- and are- of the deep and important kind. With my HS friend it was almost 50 years since we last saw each other; with my best man, we have hardly been in contact for over 30 years.

I say that with sadness and deep regret.

Yet I am also aware of the possibilities that still exist. It is odd, though. We suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, get back in touch with each other.  What do we still have in common other than those formative college and young adult years? How have we changed and grown? What if we were friends but that friendship can't be sustained now?

How, in fact, does one even go about that?

We have made a start. It is not rocket science- we keep in contact. We share what we can over the thousand mile distance between us. It's not as easy as keeping in touch with people down the street or in the next state, but I am hoping it can be done. 

# 6,000- In Memory of Another Pilgrim

Normally I would simply note the passing of post # 6,000 in the history of this blog which started over 12 years ago. But in the last couple weeks a fellow-pilgrim, friend, and very special person came to the end of his pilgrimage.

So I dedicate this post, number 6,000 of pilgrim wanderings for my friend, Ron, a true and dedicated pilgrim throughout his life.

We met about 45 years ago in the midst of our shared objections to the Vietnam War and our desire to help those who wanted peace. We spent the next years in our common interests. He and his wife gave me a place to learn a bit about what it means to mature and become yourself. He was almost exactly 10 years older than I was and became a role model and older brother.

We shared a common desire to grow and wrestle with our Christianity and what it means in these days to be a Christ-follower. We knew that this included standing up for what is right, caring for those who were the least and the lost, asking hard questions of ourselves, the government, and the churches. We learned and challenged each other to keep the faith and trust in the God who is the Creator.

His living room sanctuary was where I came to know another pilgrim who was soon to become my wife. We all worked together for peace as being something more than anti-war. It was a way of being and accepting, even in our human imperfections, the ways of God as the way of life.

He is also the impetus that got me into the Moravian Church and on the path that I have followed for these past 40+ years. God puts the right people in the right place at the right time. I was a young college graduate who had no idea what it meant to find his way in the world. He was present at the creation of what I have become and with his wife and mine helped me discover me.

It seems like a cliche to say that he was one of those people who is the "salt of the earth." Yet, in all the ways Jesus meant that phrase, that describes Ron. He was a "blue-collar" person who was able to relate to people on a deep and intuitive level, regardless of their place or standing. This included the gay co-worker (in 1971!), the kids at the local youth center that I directed for the city, returning Vietnam veterans- or this seminarian trying to be real.

It is appropriate that he died on July 4th. He was patriotic, again in the very best sense of the word. He wanted this country to live up to its ideals in the midst of a time when those principles were being torn to shreds, we felt, by the government itself. It will also be easy for me to remember his "Saint's Day", the day his pilgrimage found its answers and the reunion with his wife and others who have gone before us.

Rest in Peace, my dear friend. Thanks!!

An old American folk song made famous by Dave van Ronk, Bob Dylan and others speaks of my feelings these past months since I learned of his terminal situation. While it isn't about Ron, it is about all those friends who walk into our lives and will not leave us unchanged.

A Special Quote for a Special Person

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.
-Aristotle

Happy Birthday!

A Quote for a Monday

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.
--Albert Schweitzer

Fun with Friends

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy,

they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.

--Marcel Proust

Making Reconnections

As we move through life there are many people and places that we move away from. We leave them behind or they move to a different place- or we both do and lose connection. The other evening I watched a documentary on PBS - Colorblind. It was the story of a reunion of a group of fortysomethings getting together for a class reunion- a class from elementary school- and the teacher who inspired their lives. It is being rolled out this month across the country and is worth the watch.

What was interesting to me, though, was that I had already started this post about reconnecting with people from our past. I had this happen recently and much of what I saw on the documentary echoed my experience when I got an email from a high school classmate I hadn't talked to or seen on over 35 years. We had been good friends in that long ago time- competitors in fact. He always seemed to win. Even when it didn't seem possible- like I would get a perfect mark- he would get extra credit.

We both have moved on to a number of different things over these years. We both have become "successful" in our own fields- and both of us have a couple different fields of endeavor. For many of these years he was always in the back of my mind. When my wife and I were back in Pennsylvania a few years ago we took a road trip to some of our old haunts- and I thought of him as we passed his old house.

For some reason there are people who get stuck in your life- even when you don't see them. They had a place- a part- in helping you become who you are today. Not by doing anything in particular but because they were there going through the same things with you. Not because you always agreed on everything, but that you wrestled together with those things and in so doing they help you discover how to say the things you need to say.

That was heightened for me last year when another high school classmate died in a yard work accident at his home or when I saw the obituary for another class mate (and neighbor) who died of cancer. So when I got the email before Christmas it was a pleasant and energizing moment. I have not had a lot of contact with my hometown over the years. I have not been to a class reunion since 1971. I don't want to be remembered as that person any more.

But maybe that person is still in here, grown up- and a lot older- and maybe even wiser. The old cliche about child being father to the man and all that- well, maybe. But reconnecting is also about being in touch with roots and sources and history. So I am grateful for the reconnections and perhaps I will make some efforts to keep them open and learn some more about me- the people who have been with me at different points of my pilgrimage- and see where we are going now.