Like Friends

In our adult Sunday school class last year we were talking about why the world is so hostile to Christians. Someone shared about a bumper sticker they had seen, “So many Christians, so few lions.” Only a couple of us seemed to appreciate the humour. But what really surprised me was how so few of those present seemed to get why Christians are so offensive to everyone else.
From a Biblical perspective, we can explain it tidily enough. Our mere presence convicts them, the fragrance of Christ upon us is an offense before we open our mouths. But the heavenly realities are reflected in real causes in the material world as well. Christians are the spiritually rich living in a world of spiritual poverty. And the sad reality is that we are not so much different from the materially rich in their apathy toward the materially poor.
I watched a video this week about a popular outreach in our city. The sincerity of the speaker, the tenderness of the images were compelling. Many churches participate to bring food, hope, the Word to people on the street. I was completely captured until the tiniest phrase slipped out of the narrator’s mouth. He was saying that people recognize him now, that when he arrives, they call out his name. They are like friends, he said. Like friends.
And this, Christians, is why the world will throw us to the lions. He didn’t say “like” as an adjective. He didn’t say, “They are, like, friends.” He said, “They are like friends.”
You see, we Christians have this annoying habit of knowing that we are better than everyone else. Sure, we give, we share, we minister. But something is always out of balance. We are the giver, they the receiver. We are the good, the merciful, the kind. They are the unfortunate, the needy, the object of our kindness. We treat them well, pray with them, hope for them, but at the end of the day, we go home. Maybe we are fond of them, maybe they are “like” friends, but let’s face it, for many Christians they just aren’t friend material.
And when they realize this about us (and they will eventually realize this about us) they will be angry. Angry, because we talked to them about love, compassion and human worth as though we valued them. As though they were someone with whom we could become friends. But in reality there was never any intention of letting things get that far. These boundaries that Christians take for granted are a shock to those who take them at their word, who think that genuine friendship is being offered.
Friendship lends dignity because it assumes a mutuality of personality, enjoyment, and philosophy. One who thinks he is a friend expects a level of dignity that allows him to repay, to relate, to share equally. Charity, on the other hand, robs dignity through the one-way street of giver to receiver. Nothing is wanted, nothing expected, nothing valued the other way around. And when our tongues slip up and show the true intentions of our hearts (charity, not friendship) a seed of hatred is planted.
If we are going to involve ourselves in ministry where we are relating directly with people I think we need to grapple with this issue. Are we willing to risk real friendship? Or get real about not wanting them as friends? But if we don’t want them as friends, what are we doing there anyway?