Abstract
“Where in the world would I be, without true friends?” —Anonymous
Some years ago I was pointed to the 12th-century work on friendship by the not-so-well known Aelred of Rievaulx. He wrote a small work on Christian friendship, now entitled Spiritual Friendship. Aside from the many insights of the work, one of the most poignant views is that friendship is not dissolvable. This is derived from the idea that Christ does not leave or forsake his friends, and we, therefore, if we are to be like him, must act likewise. I am brushing over a lot here, but that is the essential premise. Friendship is for life.
Now, what I think Aelred was trying lay hold of is how one should, or even ought to, deal with the strain that is placed upon that bond of peace between friends when the troubles of life weigh upon it. A core premise is not to make friends lightly, or without thinking carefully about the person with whom one is to share one’s life. Point taken. I think we’ve all felt that slight pang of doubt about sharing too much with someone whom we are not familiar enough. Yet, the beauty of a flowering friendship is observed in how each step of vulnerability builds trust as privacy is held in confidence. But, then, what should one do when a crack in the foundation emerges, when an event threatens to destroy the edifice while it is still in the making?
It is with this in mind that I have reflected on the words of Jesus to his disciples, calling them friends, and, by way of example, the friendship shared between Jesus and Peter. As there was little difference in meaning between agapáo and philéo, when Jesus told the disciples they were his friends, phílois mou (Luke 12:4), I take it that he loved them.
Later in the Gospels, we find Peter with Jesus in the Garden on Maundy Thursday. We all know well the story of Jesus’s last hours, and probably still cringe a little as we read about Peter, the Apostle—“even if I have to die with you”—skulking in the courtyard, somewhat in view of Jesus as he is arraigned before a kangaroo court. When the false witnesses came forth, instead of rising to his friend’s defence, he denied any involvement when strangers enquired. At the very moment when a sound testimony could have abated the rising tide of injustice, Peter was instead cursing and absolving himself. Then Jesus turned and looked across the busy and angry courtyard, cutting through all the hum and din, and found Peter’s eyes. He looked at the man with whom he had shared his life freely, a man he had changed immeasurably. Peter wept bitterly. At the very least, Peter’s denials let his friend down.
Yet, in return, Jesus gives us a better example of how to be a friend. He forgave Peter, and restored him to his confidence. He did not count Peter’s offenses against him, but kept seeking him in order to make him the man he was not yet, to make him the friend he ought to be. In a world where friends apparently come and go, and minor breaches become like the flooding of a dam, Jesus shows us a better way. In friendship, to be like Christ is identified in friends forgiving each other, persevering with one another, going the distance together. Friendship is a universal phenomenon that finds the richest meaning in the God who sanctifies it.