I Call You Friends

I just finished reading a chapter from the book Your Sexual Self by Fran Ferder and John Heagle entitled "I Call You Friends", an assignment for my Human Sexuality & Christian Ethics class. The authors correlate the intimacy between Jesus and his disciples expressed in the Gospel of John with our own call to love and intimacy with others. Here are a few quotes from the chapter that I found helpful.

I shall not call you servants any more, because a servant does not know his master's business; I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. -John 15:15

 

Friendship doesn't happen simply because we share a common vision, engage in a mutual project, or spend time together. It is not an automatic by-product of living together, working with each other, playing golf, or taking a tour. Friendship happens because someone begins the arduous and sometimes painful, sometimes exhilarating work of self-disclosure, and invites the other to do the same.

 

What happens when we see intimacy in the context of human experience and committed faith? Genuine intimacy, in its most profound sense, may be likened to philos- the friendship described in John's gospel. Intimacy involves making known our everything to a dear one. It is experienced gradually and deepens slowly as mutual self-disclosure increases.

 

It is a haunting question. Have you shared your everything yet? Have you told your life stories to someone and listened as they told theirs? Have you let your guard down with anyone yet? Have you taken off your masks and gently peeled away the many layers of protection that hide your true self with someone, somewhere, sometime?

 

The word "intimacy" is derived from two Latin words- intimus (inside of) and intimidare (to fear or be in awe)....Being close enough to be inside of another- or to let another inside us- is at once awesome and fearsome. It both draws and repels, pulls us in and pushes us back. It fills us with wonder and scares us at the same time. The very thing we all seek- human connection- can also be very intimidating. It demands we let go of control and give up the safety of our solitariness. It requires a journey into the often unchartered waters of relationship- where there are no maps, no guarantees, and even less certainty about the ultimate destination. It is a journey that can be at once exhilarating and terrifying, exhausting and nourishing. The more we enter "inside of" the life of another and allow that person to do the same with us, the more we are in the space where strength and fragility live alongside each other. Nowhere can pain burn so deeply or joy penetrate so totally as in a relationship where intimus and intimidare are etching their portraits into our hearts.

It is in telling all the stories our life holds- gradually, mutually- that true intimacy happens. Soul nakedness unfolds. Then, as in a well-orchestrated liturgy, our stories mingle with celebration.

 

All believers are called to make love. For those of us who claim to follow the God who gave us the great commandment, intimacy is not an option, it's a necessity. Engaging in self-disclosure, making known my everything, are not choices in the smorgasbord of Christian living.

 

Each time we interpenetrate our hearts, each time we say what we honestly think and feel in a way that honors and respects the beloved, each time we exchange some part of our everything with a dear one, we are making love.

 

Making love. Experiencing intimacy. We do it whenever we stay awake long into the night sharing stories with a friend while time stands still. We do it when we laugh until our sides hurt with someone close. We do it when we cry in one another's arms, because the conflict that always comes with intimacy can hurt so much. And we do it whenever we say to someone who holds our heart: I call you friend because I have made known to you everything.