"As Christ Befriended Us
"
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Text: John 15:9-17
I was walking through the Eaton Centre on a sunny, early fall day. The sun was streaming in and it was very warm. As I was walking along, a young woman with some of her friends was coming towards me and I saw on the front of the young woman's T-shirt some words in very large letters. I stared at them, because they got my attention. “A friend is like a second self!” I kept staring at them, the girls around her started to giggle, and she herself looked rather uncomfortable. I thought that I was going to be arrested, so I just kept on walking, but as I went by her, I said, “That is an amazing quote you have on your shirt.” She laughed and I felt better!
“A friend is like a second self!” What a great definition of a friend. Isn't that a magnificent saying? I thought, “Surely, this wasn't conjured up by some T-shirt company somewhere. This is much deeper than that! ”So, I did what many of us do: I Googled it. o and behold, if the quote isn't attributed to the Nicomachean ethics of none other than Aristotle himself.
There are many definitions out there of what constitutes friendship or what a friend is. There are books and they are very popular these days, on friendship: how to make a friend; how to find a friend; how to keep a friend; how to be a friend. There are gurus who come on television giving accounts about what constitutes real friendship. For example, someone who has made almost an industry of this is a woman called Jan Yager, who wrote a very well known book a few years ago called Friendshifts, in it she defines what constitutes a friendship.
For her, there are four main characteristics. The first is that it is a relationship by two or more people who are not related by blood. Secondly, the relationship is voluntary: no one is forcing them into it. Thirdly, there is no contractual relationship in this, and no legal relationship that defines it. Finally, it is reciprocal: it must go both ways. On the basis of this technical definition of friendship, she then builds around these four themes to describe technically what friendships should really be.
As I read this book, and looked at many of the ideas that she was putting forward, as good and clear as they are, I couldn't help but think that there is another side to friendship: not what constitutes it technically, but what it is qualitatively. I mean, what really makes a friend, a friend? What really makes friendship something that is deep, and more especially, what makes Christian friendships unique? What qualitative difference does Christian friendship make in the life of a person and a believer in society? What is there about having a Christian friend that makes a difference?
My mind turned to our passage today from the Gospel of John, this incredible moment where Jesus is addressing his disciples - it is known in some places as the high priestly section of the Gospel of John. John is recording Jesus' words as he knows that he is about to leave the disciples: He is on his way to crucifixion. He gives them this great “true vine” address. He says, “I am the vine, and you are the branches.” He thus explains the relationship between the disciples and himself. But then, he has this radical phrase, and it is a phrase that you don't find coming out of the mouths of other religious leaders. He says to the disciples, “You are my friends.” The Son of God, the Messiah, the Lord of Life, is saying to a group of men around him, “You are my friends.”
The word for “friend” in the text is the word “philos” we find in both the translations of the Old Testament in Greek and in the New Testament and in writings after the New Testament to describe this powerful bond of friendship. This bond of friendship is something that is very strong and powerful. It is not just an airy-fairy “You're my friend!” thing. It is: “You are my friend indeed!” There is a depth to it.
Jesus doesn't just say to them, “You are my friends.” He goes on to describe in the most passionate and clear way the quality of that friendship. It is a friendship that is born out of sacrifice, it is friendship that leads to an intimate knowledge of God, and it is a friendship that is full of joyful obedience.
I want to look at that friendship, and I want to suggest to you that are here today, and anyone who is listening on the radio, that there is something powerfully unique about the friendship that Jesus offers. First of all, there is an incredible depth to it. When Jesus says to the disciples, “You are my friends, ” he is initiating a relationship. He says to them, “You did not choose me; I chose you.” And he begins this whole notion of friendship with his own sacrificial, self-giving love towards them.
In preparation for last Sunday, when we celebrated Remembrance Day, I had been reading a lot of stories in a number of books, one of them is first draft, but there are others, about stories about encounters that occurred during the war periods, moments of intense history and memory. One of them, and it could be apocryphal, I don't know, was an encounter that occurred in the battlefields in World War I.
In the battlefields in World War I, there were often areas known as “No Man's Land.” This existed between the defensive lines of the opposing forwards of the opposing armies. In this no man's land, often bodies would lie, and then an army would try and move forward and take that no man's land and then there would be another barrier between them and the opposing army. No man's land was not held by anyone, but was a buffer. It was very dangerous.
In one incident, a soldier had lost his best friend, who was shot and left in no man's land. He went to his commanding officer and he asked permission to go and get the body of his friend. The officer said, “Look, I can't afford to let you go, he's probably already dead. It won't make any difference, and I can't afford to lose you. I have already lost enough troops. I don't want you to go.”
The soldier pleaded with him. He said. “I know it might be dangerous, but still, I have to go.” Finally, reluctantly, the officer let the soldier go. He went into no man's land in the dark. He climbed through the mud and the trenches, and he found his friend. He put him on his shoulder and brought him back through crossfire, during which, his own leg was caught by one of the bullets.
The commanding officer, realizing that the soldier who had been in no man's land was dead, said, “I told you not to waste your time. Look, now you are injured as well, and you friend was already dead. It didn't matter. It was a waste of time.”
The soldier replied, “Sir, I am sorry to disagree with you, because when I reached my friend, he was still alive, and said to me, 'Jim, I knew you would come for me.'” That is friendship!
That is what Jesus was offering the disciples. That is what Jesus was offering every generation of disciples: “I have come for you.” Being willing to bear the cross, being willing to suffer for the sake of entering into death and mortality by coming into the world with all its weakness and brokenness. When Jesus said to the disciples, “You are my friends” he was saying, “I have come for you. I am willing to sacrifice myself for you.”
I think when Timothy Eaton Memorial Church is at its strongest, and when our sense of what constitutes friendship is at its most acute, is not just when we have happy parties, as good as they should be. It is not when we have glorious music and wonderful sounds. It is not just when we have fellowship events and coffee and food and breakfasts. I think we are at our strongest when I look, for example, at the Stephen Ministry.
The Stephen Ministry involves 45 trained lay persons who go out to people who are in need. People who are not able to come to church, they are physically not well, they are lonely and isolated, they have deep personal needs. Stephen Ministers visit them on a regular basis and sit with them and are with them.
You see, I think our friendship is at its greatest when we meet people in their greatest need, and emulate Jesus' sense of friendship. As he has befriended us, so too, we must befriend others.
A couple of Sundays ago, I was deeply touched by something I heard in that regard. I was preaching at Knox United Church in Agincourt. It was a wonderful event. In the middle of the service, they have what they call “Good News Time” where anyone can get up and give good news. So, people did! They announced the birth of a child; they proclaimed an upcoming marriage; there were all types of things. But then, there was one lady who stood up and said, “The good news for me is that Dr. Stirling is here this morning.”
Now, she was the only one who felt that way, mind you, but then she went on to say the following. This is what astounded me. She said:
For the past year, as all of you know, I have been ill. I have been in hospital. I haven't been able to get out. I have been in my own home. Now I am back here, and I am well, and I thank God that I am here this morning in my own church. But, for that year, listening to the services from Timothy Eaton Memorial Church, made it my church. When I had nothing else to hold on to, I'd hold on to the messages from Timothy Eaton, from the prayers of Dr. Hunnisett and Reverend McMaster and the sermons of Reverend McMaster, and the prayers of Reverend Tamas, and the wonderful music of the choir, and the guest preachers. Now, Dr. Stirling is here, and I want to tell him that over the past year, you have become my friend.
It was probably the most touching thing that I have experienced in a long time. I thought, “That is the power of worship, and the word and the bond that in her weakness and in her need, the sense of worship became her friend.” That is the kind of thing that Jesus was saying to his disciples. It wasn't just the depth and the sacrifice. There was also the incredible breadth of friendship that Jesus has.
There was a document written in the second century that was written by Christians for Christians called the Shepherd of Hermas. It is a strange document. It is really a work of fiction and a work of mysticism. For some of the time it was thought that it should be part of the Bible and the Canon, but no, it wasn't Apostolic, and it didn't have its roots in the history of the very earliest Church. But, it had some fascinating things in it. In one of them, in the Similitudes, there is this depiction of what constitutes “philos” - friendship in the early church.
It means that Christ is at the centre of things, and the angels and the saints and all the believers form a concentric circle moving out from the centre, which is Jesus. And the Shepherd of Hermas calls this, “The Ring of Friendship.” Friendship is formed by a centre. Jesus said to the disciples, “As I have loved you, so you must now love. ” In other words, I am at the centre of things. I called you, you didn't call me. For the disciples, there was this incredible sense that their friendship with each other was rooted and grounded in a centre, which was Christ's friendship for them. That became the source of their unity.
I think we need to understand that unity, because from that central place there is great breadth. There is room for a great deal of diversity. There is a group of people who don't agree with each other on matters of church policy or practice. There are people who have different views on music and on preaching and on prayers. There is a wide variety of people who can have views on all manner of things, but Jesus never ever calls for unanimity, he calls for unity. The bonds, the greatest bonds, are the bonds we have with Christ. When Christ is at the centre of the friendship, when Christ is at the centre of the fellowship, then there can be great breadth.
Nowhere did I experience that more than a few years ago when, as some of you know, I visited Santiago in Chile. One of the things that had been set up for me when I was there was to meet a Roman Catholic Monsignor called Sergio Velech. He is one of most well known Roman Catholic priests in Chile. He had been one of the founders of the Vicario de la Solidaridad, he had been at the centre of the movement for democracy, and he was an intimidating character. I read up on him before I went, and thought, “Oh, my goodness, little Protestant me going to see great, big Monsignor Catholic Velech! This is going to be interesting!”
I went into the place where he resided, and there were great, big heavy doors that swung out. I remember them closing firmly behind me, and with an incredible sense of awe, I went into his office. It was dark, with a huge oak desk, and this very tall, very big man was sitting behind it. He told me to come and take a seat, and so I did. He wanted to know what I wanted to ask him. I froze: I didn't have a clue. He said, “Well, is there anything you would like to know?”
I replied, “No, not really. I just wanted to meet you. That is all.”
Then, we started to talk, and this man, with a strong, strong accent and a deep voice, started to talk about all the things that had happened in the country, and I, little Protestant Andy, was in awe of great, big Sergio Velech. I listened and I talked, and we laughed, and we shared stories, and then he came from behind his desk and sat next to me in the other chair in front of his desk. What started out feeling like the Grand Inquisition turned out to be a tea party! We had tea and cakes - and you all know that I love that! And we talked.
I saw a book on his desk, it was about him. A little bit nervy and forthright, I said, “Do you think I could have a copy of that book?”
He said, “Well, do you want me to give it to you?”
I said, “Yes. I'd like that book.”
He said, “I have only two more left.”
And I said, “In that case, I probably shouldn't ask for it.”
He said, “No, no, no! You can have it! You Canadians, you ask for a lot of things! I'll give it to you.”
So, he gave me the book, and then on the way out - and this was the thing that really got me - he put his arms around me, and he said, “Take care, my friend. Take care.”
All of a sudden, those big doors that closed behind me on the way in seemed so much lighter on the way out. Sergio Velech had called me his friend.
I couldn't help but think that I, the Calvinist Protestant from Toronto, was seeing the Monsignor Catholic from Santiago and it didn't matter, it didn't matter. There was such a breadth to our conversation and the things that we love because they were founded in the centre: Christ, who was our Lord. And, when that centre holds, there can be a lot of breadth and a lot of room. As Christians in the church, this is what we need to have - Christ as our centre.
There is a great height to all of this. There is a height to Christ's love. He says to the disciples, “I no longer call you slaves, but I call you friends.” Now, “slave” was not a pejorative word. We might think of it as that. It was more of a servant. It was a status in the world at the time. There is nothing wrong with being a servant or a slave. Paul says that is an honourable thing at times. However, a servant or a slave is not allowed into the counsel of the master. As Jesus says, “You cannot know as slaves what God the Father has in store. Only as friends do you have this intimate knowledge of God, and thereby find the joy of discipleship and friendship. I pray that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” Then he says, “You are my friend if you keep my commandments.”
Friendship, then, is not just an ecstatic thing around people you always agree with or like. Sometimes, it is with those who share a common allegiance and a bond with the Lord as we seek to be obedient to his will and his purpose. After all, what good is a real friend if they will only tell you when things are good and nice and right about you, if they will not be honest enough to tell you of your flaws?
For Jesus, though, the joy that comes even in obedience is the greatest joy of all. It is the obedience to God the Father, not in a series of laws and rules and regulations, but borne out of the grace of God that fills the heart. Jesus knew that the disciples would be full of joy if they had this encounter with the Centre, with the living God: then they would come to know the real purpose of their lives.
I was reading an incredible story by James Hewitt about a doctoral student in the United States who, as part of his training and gathering of information, spent a year on a Navajo Indian reserve in New Mexico. The purpose of the study was to live with the Navajo in order to write a sociological document about them. The student had to cut off relations with family and friends and spend time immersed in that community.
The student went and lived in a Navajo home, sometimes called a hogan, a traditional Navajo home. The people often did not speak much English there, and they were very traditional. He spoke none of the native languages, not even the Athabascan from which it had derived. But, he went there to learn and to grow and to study.
While he was there, he developed a great fondness for the family and they a great friendship with him, particularly the grandmother, the matriarch. She adored this doctoral student. They became the greatest of friends. She had never spoken English, but she learned some while he was there. He learned to speak Navajo from her.
He wrote down his research information. He was ready with his paper. Everything was set to go. His year was up, and he was departing. The grandmother decided to throw a great big party for him, and the whole of the community came. They had really fallen in love with this young man. He loved them. He didn't really want to leave. They gave him many, many gifts and some wonderful Navajo art, and they gave him some things written in Navajo. It was a wonderful gesture, but as he said, the greatest gift that was given to him were the words of the grandmother, who spoke to him at the departure and said the following: “I like me best when I am with you.” There is a power, my friends, to real friendship.
I think that in relation to Jesus Christ, we like ourselves best when we are with Him. When we are at our weakest, we feel our best when we are with Him. When we are at our most lonely, we are at our best when we are with Him. When we are dying, we are at our best when we are with Him. When we are experiencing our greatest joy and celebrations, we are at our best when we are with Him. When we are tired and put down by the world, we are at our best when we are with Him. When we are uncertain about our own self, when we are guilty and unsure, we are at our best when we are with Him. And, when we are around those who share that same love and passion and have that same Lord at the centre of our lives, we are at our best when He is with us. “Friendship is like having a second self” and it is glorious! Amen.