I have a close friend with whom I have little in common. She
is younger, cooler, and probably wears the same unthinkably tiny pant-size as my
sixteen year-old daughter. I’m older, not cool at all really, and a few
pant-sizes bigger. My friend loves caring for small children, she likes being
busy, she loves politics. Me . . . not so much. I work the nursery at church
once a month and that pretty much reaches my limit. I love not having a full
calendar, and never even watch the news. She likes being clean and not sweaty. I figure, I have a shower, a washing machine, and a water hose so I
hike and poke around in my gardens with a great deal of abandon, unconcerned
with mud-caked shoes, burr-covered pants, or the twigs and leaves sticking out
of my hair.
We do have things in common. We are both introverts, have a
similar sense of humor, and we have sons who are the same age. If I recall, they
may have been the force that first brought us together.
Our boys’ friendship is a bit shaky at times. They often ask
to play together but inevitably argue over something. My friend and I have come
to expect their disagreements and, in fact, organize time together for them
because of it. During their most recent outing together - - a hike with me - -
my friend and I communicated by text message:
My friend: “So, are
they getting along?”
Me: “They are now, but
they had a blow-out earlier over whether or not your lip hurts when it bleeds.
Good grief.”
When I say “blow-out” I mean it and am neither thrilled nor
afraid to admit to myself or my friend that my son does most of the blowing.
Kindly, she always responds with words of encouragement and often points out
that her son tends to know which buttons to push and pushes them. We echo each
other in stating that our boys are prideful, and when they are together they
cannot ‘leave it alone’ until someone ‘wins’ and is proven right.
While our sons may have brought us together, our parenting
styles are very different. Her son is a sharper dresser, out-going, and
sometimes I admit to coveting, on my son’s behalf, her child’s
light-heartedness and ability to converse with anyone no matter their age. He
is also super polite. My son is quiet and serious. He feels deeply and wears
his emotions like a coat. He is quick to anger and slow to forgive sometimes,
and has taken on his mother’s preference for clothes that work equally well for
sleep, work, or play. He is uncomfortable talking with adults or really anyone
he doesn’t know well. My son is gentle, though, and tender-hearted; my friend
tells me she desires those traits for her son.
The boys were the reason my friend and I met and began to
spend time together, but they are not the glue that binds us as friends. We
certainly can’t credit our common interests or personalities in holding us
together either but let me share with you a “sample” conversation between my
friend and I, nothing verbatim, not a true historical account of anything we
have said, but a typical talk upon pick up or drop off of our boys. See if you
can pick out what makes our friendship stick. (Names have been changed to
protect the not-so-innocent):
“They had a big
argument today. Thomas lost control of every emotion his body contains,” I say.
My head hangs a little as I stand there feeling like the worst parent ever.
My friend waves a hand
and laughs. (She is practical and not prone to drama, one of many things I appreciate about her.) “No worries, Clarence
probably egged him on, he can be like that sometimes, just doesn’t know when to
quit. They’ll figure it out.”
“I know, it’s just frustrating. I always try and prepare Thomas for his time with Clarence. I
remind him that he doesn’t need to win every argument, and that his being
‘right’ isn’t as important as honoring God by preferring his friend.”
“I told Clarence the
exact same thing.” She smiles and gives me a hug and Clarence asks if Thomas
can come over again soon!
Did you catch it? The glue, the bond? It’s in her reply, “I told Clarence the exact same thing.” The source of the
shared wisdom that we offer our sons, that’s our secret; it’s the exact same
thing. Both of us were once “far off” from God and both have been “brought near
by the blood of Christ.” He has become our peace, has made us one and broken
down, in his flesh, any dividing walls, any hostility. (Ephesians 2:13,14) I
don’t have to create for my friend and her son a set of personal standards to
meet nor does she need to do that for me. We know that neither of us are worthy
of setting any rules or wise enough to make them, and we are not powerful
enough to hold anyone to them. We are free from that trap; free to recognize
that we sin and so do our children. We are also free to ask and receive God’s
forgiveness and instruction, and grace to obey. We are free to do this over
and over and over again and to pass that same mercy on to others.
God’s idea of oneness saturates His story. In John 15 Jesus
refers to himself as a vine and his followers as branches growing from the life
inside him. The branches vary in shape, size, production of leaves and fruit,
but they all have the vine in common - - if they do not, they wither and fall
away. In John 16, Jesus warns his followers that they will soon be scattered.
He just said they needed to abide in him, stay attached to the vine, but they
are going to be dispersed, far from him and far from each other. Then in
chapter 17, he prays they will be one in the same way he is one with the
Father. What does that kind of oneness look like? Is it something we can imitate or fathom? Apparently, it’s the kind of oneness that doesn’t require close
proximity physically. It is the kind of oneness that produces in hearts that
are different from one another, that are not nearby, that may not even be
acquainted, that “exact same thing.”
My friend and I are amalgamated, fused together by the Vine
that is our life. So we don’t put our faith in our children or in our parenting
skills. We don’t teach our boys that the aim is their “rightness” but it is their
“righteousness” that is only available to them because of the sacrifice that no
one but Jesus could make on their behalf. This oneness of faith and purpose
causes me to enjoy the ways my friend is not like me. It causes me to seek her
counsel, to smile when I see her, to know I can trust her to speak wisdom to my
son - - the same wisdom that I would speak if I were present because it is
wisdom that is not our own, it comes, as does our every breath, from Christ. When
my son hears my friend speak what is true he is hearing Christ.
Jesus is the manifestation of God’s name. (John 17:6) He
reconciles us to God in one body on the cross. (Ephesians 2:16) He is the image of the invisible God and in
him all the fullness of God dwells. (Colossians 1:15-20) He is the radiance of
the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature. (Hebrews 1:3) Ephesians
1:20, John 2:19, and Romans 8:11 tells us that every member of the triune God
raised Jesus from death. In Christ, we see, hear, touch God the Father. The
Spirit makes sure we understand what we hear the Father and Son speak. There is
no division among them. They are One and unwaveringly alike in wisdom,
power, and purpose. When the people of earth saw Jesus, they saw God. When Jesus
spoke, he spoke God’s Words. When he died, He died our death. We are supposed
to be one just like that - - as Christ and his Father are one.
You can feel the significance of unity in Paul’s letters;
the floor shaking as he paces dictating to Sosthenes his pleas for the
Corinthians to be of one accord. Sosthenes in turn scrambling to get it in
writing and on its way as fast as possible. Like a caged mother bear, Paul was desperate
to reach his cubs, to be with them in person so they can see his countenance
and know how important their harmony is for the sake of the Gospel. It is a
matter of life and death for a church.
Jesus says in John 17:22 that he has given to us the glory
the Father gave to him and he says he did so that we may be one in the same way
he and the Father are one. Why? According to Jesus it is “so that the world may
believe that you [the Father] sent me.” (John17:21) I hope that’s what “Thomas” and “Clarence”
see in my friend and me. I hope they see the truth that Jesus came at God’s
command to save us. I hope in the wisdom we share from Scripture, the truth
becomes true for both of them because their hope of glory and of Heaven depends
on the Truth. According to Colossians 1:4 and 5, the Colossian’s faith in
Christ and their love for all the saints was a result of their hope laid up in
Heaven. Our glory, our hope of heaven, our faith in Jesus, and our love for
one another are a packaged deal. We can’t have faith if we don’t love. We can’t
reside in Heaven if we don’t love. We will not see glory without love.
But if, as believers, we are not operating as one; if we as
God’s people quarrel and fight among ourselves, sprinkling our relationships
with speculation, assumption, self-centered perspectives that presume to know
another’s motive, and we just keep stirring it all together until our unity
dissolves; If we just watch it happen because we are too set on vindication for
ourselves and not the glory of Jesus, what then? Does the world see something
grotesque? A body chopped in bits, stumbling around in a state of constant
decay, mangling words of truth in order to justify lies they are so desperate
to believe about themselves, their children, their church? Are we more undead
than fully and gloriously alive? A body broken in bits cannot lift up its Head.
