The Cost of True Friendship

Old Friends.

True Friends.

Discipleship.

That is what this story is about.

Many years ago, I had a best friend in high school. I am not sure how it happened. Paul lived in the center of town, and my house was on the edge. His house was a 3-story Victorian mansion, built in the 19th century. Ours was a post World War II, single story ranch. But this was the 1960’s. With all due respect to Thomas L. Friedman, the vision of a flat world was beginning to become reality, even then. Perhaps Paul and I became friends because we were students at our high school who liked to build and fix things. We were the same age. We wore leather jackets. We drove Harley Davidsons.

Being friends with Paul was easy, relaxed and natural. I never thought to question the differences in our backgrounds. It just wasn’t an issue. We attended classes during the day, and went to work after school. We usually met at his garage on weekends to work on engines, talk about music, laugh and joke about lots of things, and always imagine the great difference we would make in the world when we got older. I was Patroclus. He was Achilles.

Sadly, I lost touch with Paul after high school. I have not seen or heard from him in over 35 years.

And yet, if you asked me to name one of my best male friends, I would still say Paul. We were alike in so many ways—all the best ways. We were kindred spirits. His friendship pointed me in the way I would eventually go, even though it meant we would part ways.

Today’s gospel reading from Mark reminds us that Jesus did not choose kindred spirits to follow him. He chose strangers. Over a period of roughly three years, Jesus lived, traveled, taught, ate, slept and prayed with men and women from diverse backgrounds. It is not surprising that Jesus sometimes wondered about his relationship with the disciples. At one point he asked them a question: “Who do people say I am?” Taking his question literally, they told him what they thought he wanted to hear. Something along the lines of: “You are a great guy. You are Churchill. You are Ghandi. You are Mother Teresa, Ted Kennedy, Eleanor Roosevelt.”

The disciples chose famous names, sage prophets, someone “other” to impress Jesus with their admiration for him. Realizing that they misunderstood his meaning, Jesus refined the question. He clarified the issue by asking: “Who do you say that I am? What do you think?”

With this question, Jesus changed the relationship he had with his disciples. He taught them that friendship is not one-sided. It has to be mutual.

Friendship is not like membership in a club. You and I can buy a membership—pay a few bucks and get a card that allows us to attend meetings, enjoy meals in a plush dining room, invite guests or clients to play golf and enjoy the facilities.

But friendship is not membership. It cannot be bought. I tried this with my first real girlfriend. I loved her more than anything in the world. I tried everything I knew to win her attention and affection. It didn't work. If you asked her about it now, she would say that it was all for the best. Time heals. People recover.

Real friendship is mysterious, deep, and lasting. One of the paradoxes of real friendship is that, although it cannot be bought, real friendship comes at a price.

The New Testament tells us that Jesus redefined his relationship with the disciples by saying, “I do not call you servants any longer, but I have called you my friends.” (John 15: 15) And the cost of true friendship is this: that his friends must deny themselves and follow him.

This idea will become a core concept of the Christian Life. It will not suffer lip service. It will not accept fair-weather friendship. Jesus says that his true followers, those he calls friends, will deny themselves, endure suffering, experience rejection, and accept death. “Greater love hath no person,” Jesus said “than that he or she lay down his or her life for a friend.” (John 15: 13)

Most of us recoil at this challenge. Like Peter we strive for action, freedom, joy and, most of all, a long life. There are churches that actively preach that joy, riches, popularity, success and long life are God’s way of rewarding those who live “righteous” lives.

While this may be true, Jesus did not teach his disciples to evaluate righteousness by measuring riches, possessions, happiness, success or a long life.

Jesus did not say that his followers should deny joy or success when it comes. He did not require this. What he did say was that to follow him, they must deny themselves.

To deny oneself means to set priorities that matter. Welcoming friends, with no strings attached, because doing so makes us happy, instead of trying to buy happiness to win friends.

If we spend our brief time on this earth striving to achieve self-serving goals, we will never know the true joy that God wills for us.

Unlike our fair-weather friends, true friends suffer when we suffer, pray for us even when they are feeling lost or lonely, stand beside us even when we have made mistakes, pay the ultimate price for us if that is God’s will.

For those of you who think that this is too hard, I offer you this simple fact. Jesus is not asking any of us to forfeit our lives. Rather, he is pleading with us to find our lives. He wants us to know that while many have gotten lost pursuing worldly pleasures, selfish gains, and power, others have found what they were looking for by giving away their time, their compassion, and their empathy.

A wise person once said that we become what we think about. If we continue to spend time striving for happiness, worrying about others who have more, wondering if we have enough worldly stuff, then that need, that craving, will always be with us and we will never be satisfied.

Jesus’ message challenges us to deny the need to gain more. That is what he means by saying that we need to deny ourselves.

The other side of this challenge is the life we find in doing unselfish acts of kindness, in giving more time and money to help the needy, and in being true friends to those around us.

Sometimes denying oneself offers unforeseen opportunity for truer friendships, and the discovery of more meaningful vocations. In a passage from Mark, Jesus says: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” (8: 34-37)

Do you ever feel lost? If so, it may be that, while you may be hoping to find your way, you are looking in the wrong place. Sometimes the best place to start a new search is in an old source. Hymn 711 in the Episcopal Hymnal offers the following suggestion: “Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God, And its righteousness/ And all these things shall be added unto you/ Alleluia. Ask and it shall be given unto you/ Seek and ye shall find/Knock and the door shall be opened unto you/ Alleluia.”