“I CALL YOU FRIENDS”
‘Bring a Friend Sunday’

John 15:9-17

St. Andrew's-Wesley United Church

Rev. Gary Paterson

April 13, 2008

Well, today is ‘Bring a Friend Sunday’… and no, I won’t embarrass anyone by asking you to stand up. No, this is a relaxed, welcoming kind of Sunday, where we can all be comfortable, including the preacher. I thought I knew what kind of sermon would be appropriate for today. I had planned to start by offering up a few proverbs on friendship: English – “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”; French – “One soul, two bodies.”; Nigerian – “Hold a true friend with both hands.” Then I was going to add a few notable quotations: “Everyone should keep a fair-sized cemetery in which to bury the faults of his or her friends.” (Henry Ward Beecher). And one from Dale Carnegie, believe it or not: “You make more friends by becoming interested in other people than by trying to interest other people in yourself.” Or what about this gem: “God evidently does not intend us to be rich or powerful or great, but God does intend us all to be friends.” (Emerson). Then I had planned on switching to poetry -- like this short verse by William Blake:

The bird a nest,

The spider a web,

Man, friendship.

Then was to come the Biblical back-up: two readings about friendship. First, the story about Ruth and Naomi: “Entreat me not to leave you or to turn back from following after you. For whither thou goest, I will go; and whether thou lodgest, I will lodge….” And then, the story about David and Jonathan, where friendship leapt over all differences of politics, sides and war; remember David’s lamentation when years later his beloved friend Jonathan was killed in the Battle of Gilboa:

Jonathan lies slain upon your high places.

I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;

greatly beloved were you to me;

your love to me was wonderful,

passing the love of women.
(2 Samuel 1:25a-26)

Once I had spun out the details of these two great friendships, I wanted to focus on the qualities of friendship, what we were hoping for, looking for, offering – things like trust, loyalty, affection, comfort, attraction, freedom, mutuality, respect. All this sounds like the beginnings of a fine sermon, no?

However, you can probably hear the “BUT” that is about to arrive… because this isn’t how things turned out. Funny thing about sermons. For the past couple of weeks I have been trying to avoid paying any attention to a particular passage of Scripture that seemed determined to have its say. It felt like a kid in the back row of the class, wildly waving her hand, full of excitement and eagerness, “Choose me, pick me!” You can ignore her for only so long, until finally you turn with a certain resigned exasperation, “All right then, yes, what is it?” And that’s when John 15:9-17 leapt up with a big smile on its face… “I’m perfect for ‘Bring a Friend Sunday’ – trust me!”

Now, I usually avoid preaching from John 15… in fact, make that chapters 14 right through 17 -- the “Farewell Discourse” they call it. You see, John wrote a unique version of the Last Supper. The other gospels, they focus on the actual meal, what we remember as communion; then they have Jesus heading out to the Garden of Gethsemane for prayer, and then they quickly have him arrested… and the story starts racing to its terrifying conclusion. But not in John’s version … no, in this gospel you hear about the washing of feet, about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples as a sort of a parable, a dramatic acting out of what it means to care for one another, to love one another. But then, instead of trusting the story, and getting on with what comes next, John has Jesus stand up and deliver a four-chapter, two hour sermon; as if it were his last kick at the can, and he was determined to pound his message into the thick heads of his disciples. But talk about trying almost too hard… that final sermon is dense, complicated, repetitive… a bit overwhelming in fact. Probably what you’d say about most two hour sermons… “Um, you lost me somewhere after the first fifteen minutes.”

But once a Scripture passage leaps off the page and into your thoughts, it’s hard to get rid of it without having a conversation. So by Thursday it had made it into the bulletin, which is the ultimate sign of commitment – and that meant that come Sunday morning we were all going to be spending some time with John 15: 9-17. Which meant that I was hard at work listening for the past few days. Only to discover that the verse, or rather, phrase, which kept ringing out in the midst of the passage, that seemed to light up, as to say, “I’m the jackpot” …well it was so simple; but then… rather marvelous. Short; so short that you might not even notice that something really big is being said here. It comes as Jesus turns to those around him and says, “I do not call you servants any longer… but I have called you friends.”

Friends… not servants, disciples, followers, idiots, slow-learners, faithless ones… but friends. Interesting choice of words, eh? Friends… “You did not choose me,” Jesus says, but rather, “…I chose you.” Not from obligation or duty… but in freedom. You choose your friends. I mean, your family… you’re stuck with them; likewise your boss and your co-workers; stuck with your neighbours too, even the one in the next-door condo who wants to turn up the sound system up full blast every Friday night; and sometimes Saturday too. But friends… well, now, that’s different. You catch a sense of that when you remember the origin of the word… from Anglo-Saxon: “freon” – to love. A friend is someone whom you love, whom you have “freoned”. Now that’s special!

And indeed, Jesus uses the same kind of language. These eight verses of Scripture we heard this morning are full of love -- the word gets in nine times actually! And two different words, in fact… agape and philia … as if Jesus just couldn’t say enough with one word. I call you “philos” says Jesus, meaning it would seem, someone who is loved. As opposed to “doulos” – that’s the word that Jesus could have used. “I have called you servants”… but the word “doulos” actually means “slave” – reflecting a culture rooted in slavery: Big house? Need lots of servants to keep it running? Then buy more slaves! And here is Jesus saying, not slaves… but friends, freely chosen…. I call you philos not doulos.

And then, of course, you have to take it one step further.. since this is the gospel of John, where Jesus is so clearly an embodiment of God’s Spirit. That’s how the whole thing starts off… “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…. and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us….” Jesus speaks for God -- if Jesus calls us friends, people who are loved and chosen, then the same can be said about God – we are God’s friends, loved and chosen. Which feels extravagant, and almost unbelievable… that the Spirit that moves in through all creation, the Master of the Universe, has chosen you and me as friends. But it feels exciting, like good news!

Because the first thing I think of when I picture friends together, is that they are having a good time. They enjoy each other’s company. There is a mutual give and take, a reciprocity. Usually there is laughter. I have a memory… oh way back when I was a student in Boston. I was off to visit my friend Debbie… nothing specific, just a cup of tea in the afternoon, and conversation. And I still remember arriving at her home, knocking on the door… and then, her bursting into song, loudly and joyously,

Open the door and come on in

I’m so glad to see you my friend,

You’re like a rainbow coming around the bend,

And when I see you happy

Well it sets my heart free….

                                    (Judy Collins)

Talk about feeling welcomed! I can still recall the ripple of delight and joy that went through me – this was my friend. I wonder if that might be the song that God sings to us… Open the door and come on in… seek and you’ll find; ask, and it will be opened unto you; knock and door will be opened… with singing.

Could it be that God enjoys our company? I know I’m pushing the anthropomorphic boundaries – but surely that was part of the Garden of Eden sketch of perfection… where God would come in the evenings to wander through the garden with his friends, Adam and Eve; a time when they would find joy in each other’s company. Joy… not such a crazy thing to think of as God’s desire for us. Jesus is quite clear about this… “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.” What other desire would you have for your friend, someone you loved?

Well, I come from a long line of Scottish Presbyterians, where you didn’t hear much about joy. There was a lot more talk about hard work, requirements, commandments and God’s anger and judgment. Joy had a hard time finding room amidst the demands, guilt, and even occasional smiting. Friends with God? Not on your life! But what if they were wrong… or at least, not completely right? What if we take as a fundamental definition the amazing good news that we are God’s friends, who are constantly being invited into the presence of the One who loves us, and delights in our company. What if our high calling is to spend time with God our friend and know the deep down joy that comes as a result. “Open the door and come on in, I’m so glad to see you my friend, you’re like a rainbow coming around the bend….”

But to be a friend is to offer a promise as well – not just there for the good times, but also, for the hard times, when everything is falling apart. A friend is someone you can count in… always. He or she is there for you! Like the story we heard with the children this morning, the one about the sick man whose four friends carried him, lying on his bed, carried him to Jesus, and when the surrounding crowds prevented access, they clambered up onto the roof, removed some of the tiling, and lowered him down into the crowd, so that their friend, who so badly needed healing, would have a chance to encounter Jesus… and be made whole.

Another memory… this time up at Naramata Centre, in the Okanagan, leading a Youth Conference. We were working with, oh, maybe a hundred teenagers…which is handful. Interesting, though, to talk about friendship with them. Teens are at that stage when they need to start becoming free of their family of origin, when they need to push against parental power… and they are just starting to discover the power of friendship, and the alternative support that friends offer. Remember… family is a given; but you choose your friends… and the teen years are a time of learning how to do that choosing well. So, there we are working with these young people, helping them explore the gift of friendship. It had been a long day… talking about what makes someone a friend? what kind of a friend are you? who are your friends? Finally, near the end of the afternoon, we had them all lie down on their backs, comfortably, and then we put on a Carole King song… the James Taylor version of “You’ve Got a Friend”. Remember those words?

When you’re down and troubled

And you need a helping hand

And nothing, oh nothing is going right.

Close your eyes and think of me

And soon I will be there

To brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name,

And you know where ever I am

I’ll come running, oh yeah baby,

To see you again.

Winter, spring, summer, or fall,

All you have to do is call,

And I’ll be there, yes I will,

You’ve got a friend.

Well, there were a few snuffling sort of noises, some quiet tears I think, as we moved into the second verse,

If the sky above you

Should turn dark and full of clouds

And that old north wind should begin to blow;

Keep your head together and call my name out loud

And soon I will be knocking upon your door.

And that’s when it began to happen, as the chorus started – a hundred teenagers began to sing quietly along – this was their song:

You just call out my name

And you know where ever I am

I’ll come running, to see you again.

Winter, spring, summer or fall

All you got to do is call

And I’ll be there, yes I will,

You’ve got a friend.

They knew what being a friend was all about. And I wanted to say – but wasn’t sure just how – that God was like that, a friend who would be there in their darkest hours; a presence to call on when walking through valleys filled with the shadow of death; a love that would be with them regardless of distance, time and tragedy… winter, spring summer or fall. God called them … and you and me… called us friends.

Jesus pushed it a step further – he was always doing that it seemed – when he claimed, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Which, of course, was precisely what he was going to do in the next few hours -- lay down his life on the cross. For his friends… for us. Reminds me of an old story – you’ve perhaps heard it before. A war story, two men who become friends, who were there for each other, no matter what. Then there’s a raid; Jim is wounded, and stuck in “no man’s land”; Dave is determined to rescue his friend. “No,” says the captain; he’s already dead, or will be shortly, and you’d be risking your own life for nothing.” But Dave ignores this practical, reasonable advice and crawls out; he reaches Jim and despite enemy fire drags him back to safety. The captain, however, points out the truth of what he had been saying, for Jim is, in fact, dead; and the venture was for naught. “Not true,” says Dave; “he was my friend, and when I got to him, he wasn’t dead; he knew me, and said, “Oh Dave, I knew you’d come.”” Being a friend can demand sacrifice; it isn’t just sentimental niceness; there’s an edge, a cost. No one has greater love that this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. And although there are many understandings and interpretations of the crucifixion, that’s got to be one of them. You want to know how much God loves us… just take a look.

I sometimes wonder if experiencing God as friend might change the way I see myself, my own identity and self-understanding. There are so many labels that I wear in this world… son, spouse, father, Christian, minister, Canadian, gay, middle-class…. and they tell you a lot about who I am. But what if a more fundamental identity were the truth that I am God’s friend, that I am loved by God. Would that not change the way I live in the world? The way I see myself… and others? Remember that definition of a good friend? -- “I like me best when I am with you.” What if that were how we felt when we were with God, spending time with… in prayer, quietness, praise, laughter, a meal, a worship service, while mending the world, loving a neighbour…?

Sociologists have developed the concept of the “looking-glass” self. It’s similar to that old experiment where a teacher is told which kids in her class are supposedly gifted, and which problematic…. And it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, as she treats them in ways that are coloured by that information. The theory of the looking-glass self suggests something quite similar, that we will become who or what the most important person in our lives thinks we are. Not rocket science…. for instance, when dysfunctional parents offer emotional abuse rather than love, hurt rather than comfort, and endless criticism instead of affirmation… well we know the results. But what if we were really able to believe in God’s understanding of who we were… if we were the ones whom Jesus loved, and called friends… if that were the most important word about who we are… would not that be the power of transformation? (I am indebted to Brian Stoffergen for this insight, and he to Philip Yancy, who was quoting Brennan Manning)

Well, we’re coming to the end of the passage… but not before Jesus throws out one more zinger… which is… go and do likewise. He calls us friends… and from that confidence, that assurance, we are invited to be about the work of “befriending” others… our family and neighbours, strangers, and even enemies. “Love one another as I have loved you,” says Jesus; that’s the new commandment. I love the definition that Quakers have for a church… the “Society of Friends”. I think we’d discover a new way of being if we looked around us, and named each other as friends… a friendship that is rooted in the reality that each of us and all of us have been called friends of Jesus, of God. A friendship that includes joy and sacrifice; shared laughter and pain.

A few weeks ago, on Maundy Thursday, some forty of us gathered up here in the Chancel to worship… there was some singing, some prayers, a Scripture reading to mark the day, and to help us in our remembering; but the main action was the invitation to wash each other’s feet. Now, I don’t know about you, but I am always a little sensitive about my feet. Taking off my shoes means a quick discovery about whether or not there are holes in this pair of socks. And I tend to have sweaty feet… after a long day nobody really wants to be around my feet. And when they’re naked, they aren’t exactly beautiful… callouses, bunions, and that little toe with the black nail from where I stubbed it hard last week… I’ not proud of my feet, and would rather keep them well-sheltered within my shoes. But here we were to wash each other’s feet… remembering those moments that preceded Jesus’ naming us as friends. What we were remembering was precisely his demonstration of that truth, when he took towel and basin and washed the feet of his disciples, and finished by saying, “This is my commandment that you love one another as I have loved you.” Well, the evening was lit by candles; there was silence; slowly our shoes and socks came off, and one by one we sat in the chair; hands gently taking those gnarly feet and splashing warm water, with just a scent of lavendar oil for soothing; hands stroking and massaging those tired feet, refreshing them. I can’t remember which touched my heart more… washing John’s feet, or having mine washed by Sharon; or watching how one person after another came forward, to be washed, and then to wash; noticing how some elders needed help getting up and down, but were determined to offer this act of love and friendship; feeling the tenderness in the air… we were truly a community of friends, and something very special was being experienced here.

So… “I have called you friends” says Jesus…. “Open the door and come on in”… “winter spring summer or fall, all you have to do is call”… Remember, you’ve got a holy friend, who loves you; and, holding fast to that deep truth, you are invited to befriend the world, God’s beloved world… so that each day the community of friends grows wider and fuller.