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Each day this month of August we’ll be looking at one of the extraordinary metaphors that the Bible uses to illustrate the nature of our relationship with God.
Friends
Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone; Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you.
Those are the opening lines to the folk ballad Fire and Rain, the 1970 song that signaled James Taylor’s arrival as one of America’s up-and-coming musical artists.
His state of mind was precarious. Struggling with depression and a downward spiral of dependence on alcohol and heroin, he had moved to London to jump-start his fledgling career.
While recording his first album overseas, the parents of his childhood friend Suzanne Schnerr committed her to a mental health facility. Upon her release, she threw herself in front of a train.
Taylor’s friends, fearing for his emotional stability, waited six months to tell him the news. He was rocked by the tragedy, since he himself had spent nine months at a similar facility. Fire and Rain became a means of expressing his anguish.
I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.
Taylor recruited another young songwriter to play the piano during the song’s recording session. Her name was Carole King. Struck by the poignancy of the lyrics, she composed a song of her own. It was a personal response to Taylor’s admission of loneliness: You’ve Got a Friend.
When you’re down and troubled and you need a helping hand, and nothing, oh, nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I will be there to brighten up even your darkest night.
King’s song mimics life. It begins in a minor key, then shifts into major chords as it communicates the hopefulness of friendship.
The first thing about creation that God said was “not good” was the aloneness of the first human being (Genesis 2:18). None of us is wired to go through life flying solo. To “win” all by ourselves is to lose.
When people describe the primacy of relationships, marriage deservedly gets a lot of attention. Friendships tend to be overlooked – an oversight that prevents us from recognizing the emotional, spiritual and even physical wellbeing that comes from walking with close companions.
Consider the friendship landscape of our culture.
Imagine a triangle. The base represents the number of individuals that the average person living in our society knows by name. That tally falls somewhere between 500 and 2000. The middle of the triangle represents core acquaintances – people whom we know well enough to meaningfully meet and greet. That number stands between 20 and 100. The top of the triangle represents close friends. It’s going to be a single digit – somewhere between one and seven.
So here’s the good news. Remember back in high school when it seemed that certain people – “the cool people” – hogged all the best friends? The simple truth is that they were merely collecting acquaintances. They were filling up the middle of their triangles. Most human beings are capable of sustaining only a handful of truly close friendships.
And you don’t have to be beautiful or insightful or popular or rich or athletic to make and to be a true friend.
Many of us have suffered through nights of inner dread wondering if we would ever find close companions or if they would ever find us. The reassuring discovery is that no matter what our age or stage in life, friendship is God’s equal opportunity relationship.
And that brings us to one of the Bible’s genuinely startling metaphors: Friendship with God.
Is such a thing even possible?
Across the spectrum of the entire Old Testament, only two characters are described as being “friends of God.” One is Moses (Exodus 33:11). The other is Abraham (Isaiah 41:8). Since Moses and Abraham are arguably the two most important figures in the history of ancient Israel, it would seem to be off-the-charts presumptuous for anyone else to claim, “You know, God and I go way back.”
That’s why Jesus’ statement to the Twelve in John 15:15 is so stunning: “I’m no longer calling you servants, because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father” (The Message).
What identifying labels (in this case, metaphors) appropriately describe the dozen men who walked with Jesus for something like three years?
They were his apprentices, learners, or disciples – that is, students of his way of life. They were also his apostles – the “sent-out ones” charged with sharing his message with others. From yet another perspective, they were his servants – an honorable word in that culture that described their loyalty to him as Master.
But Jesus blows all those categories away at the Last Supper.
Here’s how Eugene Peterson paraphrases Jesus’ words: “Don’t ever think of yourselves again as mere underlings. Or as contract workers. We’re friends. Since friends ‘do life’ together, stick close to me. I want to hear your secrets, your disappointments, what you dream about, and whatever else is on your mind. That’s what friends are for.”
But what if you’ve utterly failed to hold up your end of the bargain when it comes to walking with Jesus? You’ve been distracted. Or bitter. Or bored. That would seem to preclude any possibility of friendship.
Jesus, however, hasn’t thrown in the towel.
In Matthew 11:19, his enemies – as part of an ongoing attempt to savage his reputation – come up with what they think is the ultimate putdown. They accuse Jesus of being “the friend of sinners.”
Which is just about the best piece of news any of us could ever hear. No matter where you fall on the spectrum of spiritual failure, Jesus is offering his hand.
Will you take it?
In a world that can overwhelm us with fire and rain, we will never find a closer friend.