I recently lost a friend, or so I thought. He didn't die, he just chose no longer to associate with me. The trigger that compelled his departure was a political statement that offended him. My question, however, concerns not the trigger but the spring that launched him. What incited such a violent and graceless reaction? I doubt it was my statement. I may disagree with friends over their statements, but I'm rarely, RARELY, offended--and never to the point of turning my back on them. Friends disagree, but to suddenly despise someone is a very different matter.
I've begun processing the ordeal, hoping to learn from it. My point here is not to discount the things I should learn about myself, but as these things tend to be multifaceted, a realization came to me about the difference between acquaintanceship and friendship, and the expectations/responses within both. I may well have credited our relationship with a friendship where none existed.
I thought it odd that over the several years that he and his wife attended our church, they refused to become members. A question of membership in a local church involves two matters--agreement with the doctrine and practice of the church, and the desire to place oneself under the authority of that church, for Christ's sake and the good of one's soul. I'm certain that the gentleman agreed with the doctrine of our church, so he must have been unwilling on the other matter. Since I am the pastor of the church, this made for a strange statement about the status of our relationship. I should have noted this from the beginning.
Friendship demands a conveyance of trust. I do not trust all people equally, nor do I have the same expectations of all people I know. Some people are little more than folks I know reasonably well and enjoy. They are not sources of edification or counsel, but they're good for a laugh, a golf partner, or a hand lifting something heavy. They are acquaintances. We might go to dinner together and interact socially at other venues, but trust is superficial. Within this relationship, civility is expected and a modest amount of sacrifice, but little of deeper commitment.
On the other end of the spectrum are those people who are better called friends. We encourage one another. There is a high degree of trust between us. When I need counsel, these are the people I go to. At times when civility and sacrifice are lacking, commitment to the person trumps an ungracious disposition. There are no triggers, because there are no springs. Otherwise it's not a friendship. In the Proverbs, Solomon tells us that "a friend loves at all times." He will not disassociate with you if he does not like your politics. The friendship is more valuable than that. In fact, you will likely hone and sharpen one another's perspectives on such issues. A friend would not refuse to come under your authority as pastor of a church, because he regards you and your insight highly. He doesn't think you're perfect, but he knows God has allowed you to connect for each other's good. He loves at all times; he trusts you and he knows that you trust him.
An acquaintance has a different level of tolerance. He may be easily offended, so you're not as likely to be open with him; he may question your commitment to him, and perhaps rightly so; he may limit his interaction to particular contexts and conversations so as to avoid the deeper level of friendship.
My "'friend's" choice to not become a member where I am a pastor certainly did not convey trust. Perhaps I was undeserving, or perhaps he was lacking in ability to trust (I am not the 1st, or 2nd, pastor he ever objected to). But whatever it was, his departure revealed something about the nature of our relationship that I had not previously considered. We were acquaintances, not friends.
Losing a friend is nearly impossible and, I would imagine, incredibly painful. I would think that one's presence would have to be terribly detrimental, and his responses quite stubborn, to actually lose a friend. My experience at this man's departure was one of despondency. I found it hard to imagine that I was so disagreeable and worthless. Yes, I'm sure I have many things to learn, but one thing I learned is not to invest too heavily in people's departures. I have never lost a friend. I have only lost acquaintances.
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3 comments:
Tim, thank you for your ponderings and musings in "loss of a friend". I have been investigating one of the buzz words in Christian circles today, that being "authenticity". This word appears commonly in mission statements of churches. "To create an authentic Christian community..." In my searching, studying and asking many questions I've found the word to embody one of the qualities you mention in "friendship" and that quality is trust. How is trust built between two people? I believe building trust involves much risk, and such risk many people are unwilling to take with others. First one must be transparent, vulnerable and honest in communication. Risky business! When this happens however, trust is built on truth and the rewards are God's rewards, relationships with real depth, soul to soul, heart to heart, Christ ministering one to another, true healing. I find among men these "authentic" relationships are rare. Men seem to keep things on the "acquaintance" level more commonly, and unfortunately never benefit from the ministry of the Spirit, one man to another, "iron sharpening iron." I am blessed to have quite a few "real" relationships with men but it all started with some risking, being transparent and vulnerable.
Vic,
A few more related comments: I have asked myself, in meditation upon this theme, how many of us--men or women--have more than an acquaintance with Jesus. Real friendship, in order to be trusting, requires a moment of humbling and humanness where the other party can respond with love and grace--forgiveness, support, etc. This is where trust is developed and trustworthiness is affirmed. Too many people are too proud to have real friendships. They want to hide who they are and become defensive if the exposure hits too close to home. This won't fly with Jesus, who OPPOSES the proud but gives grace to the humble. Some of us are so good at avoiding the risk--opening ourselves up only to a degree--that we can have no deep relationship with people. Are we to suppose that what we can't do with people, we have figured it out when it comes to the Lord?
Also, I'm always wary of my (or any man's) spiritual life sounding effeminate. We are men. That doesn't make us unemotional, unloving, or uncaring. It just means that our friendships will look different and will develop differently. Authentic may be a good word for defining our relationships. Authentically masculine, authentically loving, authentically humble, authentically trusting. Authentic friendships among men shouldn't make men feel uncomfortable. It should be as natural, desirable, and manly as anything they've known. I think some men shy away from developing friendships because they're told that real friendships look like something they consider to be feminine. How we define an authentically masculine friendship is a question I pose, but I know that John Eldridge does not have the answer.
Tim,
My intial thoughts are that an authentic relationship shouldn't be defined by gender. You did a wonderful job of defining authentic, male or female. I think the same qualities are present whether male or female are involved, because ultimately they are Christ-like, Holy Spirit driven.
I think men prefer hiddeness because they are performance driven, approval driven if you will and when they fail, they lose heart. They are less willing to risk, and the mindset of "just buck up and get over it" prevails.
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