Recently I have made the acquaintance of a person down here
in Waco. This person has prompted me to consider the idea of friendship,
fellowship, and how the Fall has twisted and warped these concepts.
Let’s begin with a portrait of this person. They (the gender
neutral) possess an exceedingly cheerful attitude, brightly greeting me when I
enter their presence with the utmost sincerity. They treat everyone with a
close attention that suggests a deep interest in that person. They are quick to
laugh and join in frivolities, even at their own expense. Another acquaintance
has described them as “a Disney prince/princess” (it was one or the other;
again I’m trying to be coy). That irrepressible kindness exudes from their
face, and they sit with proper posture and poise. The phrase popularized by
Mary Poppins comes to mind: “Practically Perfect in Every Way.”
They do not engage in coarse language or swearing; one gets
the impression that they grew up in what might be called a sheltered
environment. Despite this, they have an understanding and acceptance even for
those whose attitude and behavior they might disapprove of in principle. They
treat everyone with respect and kindness.
Do you have a clear picture of this person? The impression
that always strikes me when I interact with them is that of a slightly dense
student interacting with a brilliant and kindly student who works hard and is
eager to assist those disadvantaged whom they meet. This person turned to me
today, during a lull in the conversation, and clarified a point that had
apparently bothered them ever since they and I had a lengthy conversation about
our respective backgrounds. I had mentioned the period of trials and tribulations
through which I have recently passed during this chat, and this person, several
weeks later, took pains to assure me that they were not indifferent to this
element of my life, and to correct any impression they might have given that
they did not wish to hear of this interlude. I assured them that I had not
gotten any such impression from our prior conversation, and we ended with
amicable words. Again, a universal aspect of any interaction with this person.
Afterward, I mused on the sort of person who would do such a
thing, to correct an imagined slight that one might have given more in the absence
of seeking information than in overly prying for it. I bethought, Is this indicative
of a certain egoism on this person’s part, that they were so focused on what
they said or did not say during an interaction that they would revisit it weeks
later and redress a possible offense? I have in fact done this very thing, and
so can speak about it with some authority; my own self-criticism is so acutely
aware of trying to say the right thing, do the right thing, to avoid giving
offense, that I will replay conversations in my mind and evaluate my
performance. Not even in the context of a job interview or date, when it might
seem reasonable to do so, but just in regular discourse with friends and
family. This springs from an insecurity which I have documented in previous
posts, so I don’t feel the need to do so.
I then embarked upon a lengthy reflection upon this person’s
suitability as a friend. My thoughts initially wandered, and wondered, towards
the concept of how one makes a friend. E.g., normally a person displays deep
interest and genuine affection for someone else as a prelude or consequence of
friendship; you meet someone, you get to know them, and eventually you develop
a bond in which you can begin to expose your own heart and mind, and become
affectionate toward them while having it reciprocated.
My friends in Kansas
City serve as excellent examples of this. For instance, Caleb Egli and his wife
Rebecca became my dear friends during the last year or so of my stay there.
Soon we would meet with an embrace (sometime inappropriate on Caleb’s part),
tease each other, laugh and cry (mostly on my part) with each other, and grow
into each other’s lives. This is the normal concourse of friendship. But at the
beginning, we had to establish a connection, a commonality, before affection
and intimacy could be established. True, it took less time and effort, and the
connection went deeper, than has been my normal experience, but the stages of
friendship were still consistent.
In regard to the person described above, however, the fact
that they immediately display kindness and interest in perfect strangers led me
to wonder how one would ever know that one had reached that more intimate level
with this person. After all, if you treat everyone like a good friend, how do
you treat your good friends? If on the scale of friendship (1 is a perfect
stranger, 10 is as intimate as it is possible to be with someone) most people
start at a 1 or 2, maybe a 3, and this person seems to start at a 5, which is
where most people’s friends would fall other than the best friends, then what
would a good friend of this person experience? The same level of affection and
attention that a random person walking in to their work place receives?
Of course, an alternate theory might suggest that this
person lets no one reach deeper levels other than maybe family members and a
childhood bosom buddy. It’s possible, I suppose, but I can’t imagine such a
warm and welcoming person not craving for those deeper relationships beyond the
surface level.
All this flashed through my mind fairly quickly; the curse
of writing is that it usually takes five times longer to explain what you’re
thinking than it took to think it. The thought floated through my head that
this was perhaps a disingenuous way to go through life. You have to treat some people as strangers, after all.
Otherwise, what’s the point of having friends if you treat everyone like a
friend?
Almost immediately a rebuke smote me. Do you see it?
This, I think, is a diabolical perspective, a consequence of
the Fall. The answering rebuke asked, Well, why shouldn’t we treat everyone
like a friend? Why do we feel the need to throw up walls between ourselves and
everyone else, and only lower them once the prospective friend has passed the
evaluation period? It’s a natural instinct in most people, but does that make
it right? Or to put it in Christian terms, aren’t we supposed to love our
neighbor? Not to like our neighbor,
not to tolerate or be nice to our neighbor, but to love our neighbor? And that is what
shook me; this person seems to genuinely love everyone. Not in gushy, effusive,
sloppily emotional sense, but in the sense that they direct their full
attention, interest, and philios love toward anyone they
meet.
I imagine that this person probably leaves a fragrance of
Christ wherever they go. Shouldn’t all believers do that?
