"Called to Be Friends"

Wednesday Sermon on John 15:12-17
March 9, 2005

 

Historian Martin E. Marty writes in his book Friendship: most religious writers “hurry past any talk about being friends in order to deal with what sounds like bigger topics, including hatred and love.” But plunging in where others were silent Marty writes:    “Those who take no time or pains over friendship will scratch their heads over the pointlessness of it all.  But anyone who has ever known a friend or been a friend may find almost nothing in life more significant.”  (108)

Marty’s first chapter is called “Survival”.  He begins with this startling phrase:  “We have friends, or we are friends, in order that we do not get killed.”  Then, to make sure his point is caught he repeats this six more times in the chapter.  “We have friends, or we are friends, in order that we do not get killed.”  He understands from his own experience that friendship is a life or death matter and describes ways the protection or advocacy of a friend or simply the survival from loneliness a friend brings keeps us alive. 

Marty wrote his book 25 years ago now.  A newer book, Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman, entitles one of its chapters: “With a Little Help From My Friends: The Medical Value of Relationships”.  It reports stuff Marty knew without the research – like social isolation being as harmful as smoking, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, obesity, and lack of physical exercise.”  Now social isolation isn’t the same as solitude.  Many people who live alone have healthy relationships outside their solitude. 

Goleman’s book was a primary resource for Roy Oswald, the Alban Institute consultant who led the Head of Staff Conference Reg and I attended in January.  Having emotional intelligence, Roy was trying to teach us seasoned pastors, is essential for successful leadership.  Without emotional intelligence on the part of leaders, healthy community life cannot be built and sustained. 

Jesus didn’t have access to such research.  The phrase “emotional intelligence” was long from being coined 2000 years ago.  Yet, Jesus would have scored at the top on the assessment evaluations.  Jesus was a successful developer of healthy, sustainable community – even with the likes of the disciples he had to work with.  People like me!  And, people like you.  His community, the Church, has weathered through the worst of storms for over 2000 years.  It becomes endangered from time to time, but we’ve been given what we need to care for its life – if we will head our calling. 

John’s Gospel offers wisdom in this 15th chapter with its image of the vine and the branches – or as I used before – the Mangrove Tree.  We’ve talked about how the coastlands where the mangroves have been left to flourish were the least harmed by the tsunami.  The mangroves tendrils stretch out to hold up other trees and shelter animals and fish and stretch down into salty waters that gives them nourishment and grounding. 

Jesus calls us into that kind of interdependence and mutuality.  We are called sink roots deep into the waters of God’s love so our arms can grow open to one another in mutual love.  Jesus calls us “friends.”  The Greek word that translates as “friend” is “philos”.  Philos is from the verb “phileo”: “to love”. When Jesus speaks of friend he means “those who are loved.”  “You are my friends,” says Jesus. “You are those who are loved.” 

And Jesus commands, in John 15, not love for enemies, but love unto death of one’s friends.  The point isn’t that we shouldn’t love our enemies, but John is getting at something else.  If the community of Jesus’ followers were to survive the challenges that would come to them, they would have to do as the Mangrove trees do.  They would have to mutually care for each other, hold on to each other through the storms, be hospitable to others in times of need, especially the most vulnerable.  John 15 isn’t just a sweet picture of a grape vine.  It’s an urgent picture!  Without mutual self-giving there was little chance the mission of Christ would carry on. Jesus knew mutual love was as important to the survival of the community he began as the Mangrove is to the survival of the coastlands.

And lest we think friendship is just about our little nuclear circle of friends, Jesus goes deeper.  “You are my friends, IF you do what I command you.”  God has an agenda.  God sent Jesus into the world for a purpose.  As John writes earlier, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth.  And we have beheld his glory!” 

Glory is defined as “shining” “brilliance” unveiling the truth so the world says “Wow!”  We have beheld who God is – love! We are “those who are loved.”  And as those who are loved, we are called to the radical mutuality of self-giving Jesus calls friendship. 

The friendship Jesus speaks of is a calling, not a right.  It’s not about our clinging to our favored ones in order to take care of ourselves.  In calling us friends Jesus means not just the ability to hold onto each other, but also the love to endure the pain of letting go.  Love, in John’s Gospel, is for the sake of mission – a mission that calls us to follow Jesus, who, when the time was right, entrusted his friend John to his mother, and his mother to his friend John.  That is a concrete picture of the kind of the friendship Jesus calls us to.  It cares for each other for the sake of mission. He didn’t let go until he saw they were cared for.  From the agony of the cross he was thinking of them.  And John and Mary cared enough for Jesus to hold each other so Jesus could let go.  There was mutual self-giving among them.  Entrusting them to each other helped him let go into God.

Friendship – not enemies – brought Jesus to the cross.  He could have run from enemies, but he was willing to die if that’s what his calling, his appointment, his being chosen by God, led to.  We read: “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit that will last.”  You may know the song “What a Friend we have in Jesus.”  Though it may sound odd, we might well say, suggests Martin Marty, “What a Jesus we have in a friend.”  Now that may be shocking on first hearing, but Luther and later Bonhoeffer spoke of our being little Christs to our neighbor.  To say, “What a Jesus we have in a friend” is not far from that. God comes incarnately – in the flesh – through earthy people like you and like me.  May it be so among us!     

+Amen