Friendship with Jesus
God talks to his friends. God called Abraham his friend (II Chronicles 20:7; Isaiah 41:8; James 2:23), and talked to him. Moses was also a friend of God, and God talked to him: ”The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend” (Exodus 33:11). Apparently, if we want to “hear” God speak to us or sense his leading in our lives, it helps to be God’s friend.
In his comment yesterday, Steve raised an important question about the extent to which friendship is possible between non-equals. It’s an important question from a couple of angles. All of us know people who are out of our league as far as their ever becoming our friends. Maybe we’ve even viewed people who are beneath us as unworthy of our friendship. No wonder it’s difficult to imagine a friendship with Jesus.
An interesting twist on this equality business is that many of us who want Jesus to be our friend try to make him equal to us. We wouldn’t say that, and would probably be appalled at the idea if it were presented to us (which I guess I’m doing at this moment: so try not to be too appalled). But in order to have Jesus be someone we feel comfortable with, we cut him down to size, make him sort of like us — only without sin, of course. We imagine him as being nice and cuddly and easy to talk to, as someone who would never frown at us or make us feel uncomfortable. In other words, we imagine him not as he is — i.e. as the gospels present him – but as we want him to be. We may do the same thing with our other friends. Maybe we do most of the talking lest we find something out about the other person that will spoil our picture of them.
A seminary professor used to tell his students that Jesus devoted most of his time on earth to disillusioning people. In other words, Jesus tried to rid people of their illusions about God, about the Kingdom of God, about religion, about sin and especially about relationship. People assumed they could only be friends with people who were their equals — e.g. of the same religion, of the same ethnic group, of the same social class, of the same gender, of the same age. Jesus encouraged his disciples to cross each of those barriers. Jesus himself had a reputation for being “a friend of tax collectors and ’sinners.’ ” Instead of hanging out with the other rabbis, he invited fisherman, tax collectors and revolutionaries into his inner circle. He would eat with anybody. He allowed women to sit at his feet and even kiss his feet. He rebuked his disciples for keeping parents from bringing their children to him.
Were any of these his “equals?” Of course not. Then again, maybe the whole notion of ”equality” is itself an illusion. All of us have things we share in common with one another, including with Jesus. All of us also have things we don’t share in common. It’s the combination of the two that makes friendship interesting and real friendship possible. We can only be true friends with people who are truly “other,” even if the other person has more authority, and even if that person’s authority is over us.
Jesus’ telling his disciples “I no longer call you servants but friends” wasn’t as unusual as you may think. Writings from the first century indicate that masters and slaves sometimes formed very close friendships, especially in the case of slaves who oversaw the master’s estate. Selling oneself into slavery was for many people the only way to climb the social ladder. Important people in Roman society were sometimes former or even current slaves.
Sharon’s comment yesterday points to the real issue around authority: can we trust it? Can we trust that our Master isn’t on a power trip, but is always using his authority to benefit the lives of others? Can we trust that Jesus ultimately uses his authority in order to serve rather than to be served? Can we love and enjoy and admire what we see our Master and Friend doing with his authority? Can we root for him like we would for a friend who can paint or sing or play basketball better than we ever could, or who exercises authority in their job or church or family in ways that fill us with pride?
Of course, we have yet to address what may be the biggest obstacle to believing that Jesus would want our friendship — the fact that he’s without sin and we’re not. We realize that on paper (i.e. according to the Bible), we’re supposed to be “justified” or declared righteous in the sight of God because of what Jesus did on the cross. But we also know that God’s not blind. We know there’s more to us than our legal standing. We can’t hardly stand ourselves at times, so how can someone as holy as Jesus care to be around us? More on that tomorrow.
I hope that you’re enjoying this discussion at much as I am. I had a great time with Jesus yesterday, maybe one of my best days with him ever.
“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14, The Message).
