Reflection #84 (17th March 2024 at Essex Church / Kensington Unitarians)
Friendship is one of those subjects that I’m endlessly interested in pondering, and one I’ve probably got too much to say about, which is why this is only part one of a two-part service (and next week we’ll be hearing varied perspectives from several members of the congregation).
If you’re at the church in person you may already have noticed that the picture on the front of your order of service today is of – Dave Myers and Si King – otherwise known as the Hairy Bikers. I know that many of you, like me, were very sad to hear of the recent death of Dave Myers – the Sunday after the news broke I lit a candle here not only for Dave and his family but also for Si – and I could see faces round the room nodding in sympathy. It was clear to see that theirs was a great friendship, and this would be a terrible loss to Si, who had written: ‘My best friend is on a journey that for now, I can’t follow. I will miss him every day and the bond and friendship we shared over half a lifetime.’
Theirs was the sort of friendship we might dream of – decades spent travelling the world together and sharing great adventures – and then showing tender care to each other when times were tough (over the last few years Si ferried Dave to and from chemotherapy sessions and batch-cooked meals to fill his freezer; ten years ago it was the other way round and Dave was caring for Si when, in quick succession, Si’s marriage broke up, and then he a near-fatal brain aneurysm, which took quite a while to bounce back from). Recently the Independent ran an article noting that ‘their close, tender, bond has been a touching depiction of a long-standing male friendship all too rarely seen on television’.
Reading these articles, and watching the Bikers’ final series ‘Go West’ – which has been so poignant, as it’s clear that they both knew at the time of recording that it would probably be their last hurrah, so it’s as much about their friendship and their gratitude for the time they’ve had together as it is about the food or the travel that are purportedly the subject of the programme – all this is what led me to start thinking about friendship as a topic for us to explore in this particular moment. But in truth, it’s a topic I’ve thought about a lot down the years, both personally and philosophically.
You might be aware that Aristotle has one of the best-known philosophical takes on friendship. He reckoned that there were three categories: friendships of utility, friendships of pleasure, and friendships of virtue which he also called ‘perfect friendships’. Friendships of utility are those where the friendship is largely based on some practical benefit you get or give to each other: maybe you share a lift to work, and then one of you changes jobs, and the friendship fades away; or maybe you’re friendly with your hairdresser, you get on very well, and enjoy setting the world to rights together when you see each other, but you would never meet up outside appointments, the connection only exists within that limited space of transaction. It’s a relatively weak bond (which some of us might not even count as a friendship at all). Then there are friendships of pleasure, where you’ve got some activity that you like to do together, like dog-walking, or playing bowls, or ballroom dancing. If you engage in these activities together on a regular basis then this may provide an opportunity for a deeper and more lasting connection to develop but it’s also quite possible that if circumstances change – if one of you moves away, or gets sick, or the dance class closes down – all of a sudden you’ve lost that reason for regular contact, and these friendships can quite easily disappear.
So then we’re left with Aristotle’s third option – friendships of virtue – or ‘perfect friendships’. I’m going to share a quote from philosophy enthusiast Jack Maden, founder of ‘Philosophy Break’, on this. He writes: ‘These are the people you like for themselves, who typically influence you positively and push you to be a better person. This kind of relationship, based as it is on the character of two self-sufficient equals, is a lot more stable than the previous two categories… Virtuous friendship takes time — indeed, the length of a relationship indicates its stability — and requires effort on both sides… it involves honesty, acceptance, and selflessness. It is two equal parties coming together to forge a bond that provides mutual benefit, enjoyment, and appreciation over the course of a lifetime.’ And Aristotle himself said: ‘For perfect friendship you must get to know someone thoroughly, and become intimate with them, which is a very difficult thing to do.’
A key element of any friendship is presence – spending time together, being available to each other, racking up the hours-on-the-clock – that reading we heard from Hannah earlier suggested it takes at least 90 hours together to qualify as ‘friends’ and more like 200 to count as ‘close friends’. Though of course it depends what you do with those 200 hours! And ‘presence’ can take many forms. For some, ‘presence’ will mean being in each other’s pockets, living nearby, and popping in and out of each other’s kitchens for a cup of tea. For others, ‘presence’ might mean being ‘in each other’s pockets’ in a different way, via smartphone, regularly checking in, being ‘on call’ for each other, perhaps even engaging in a continuous stream of text commentary on the day’s events, as if we were ‘right there’ and experiencing them side by side. And that’s really important, and no less valid, for those of us who are unable to get about, or whose friends are geographically widespread. It’s another way of being companions, witnesses, supporting each other as we muddle through life. And maybe through circumstance or disposition we aren’t in such frequent contact with our dearest friends – maybe we only see them once in a blue moon – but when we do get together, then we’ll give them our undivided attention, and make sure we are present to each other, so it’s quality time.
And – as an aside, we haven’t really got time to get into this today, but maybe next Sunday – for me this stuff brings up all sorts of issues around expectations and equality in friendship. What if you’re starting to connect with a new friend but you’ve both got a different sense of what sort of ‘presence’ is essential to friendship – if one of you expects to be hanging out in-person all the time or making plans to do stuff together – while the other is content with drifting in and out a bit, only seeing each other occasionally, but expecting to fall straight back into deep-and-meaningful conversations? These sort of differing expectations can make or break our friendships and it’s something to be mindful of.
For me, the ideal close friendship is one in which we might be seen, known, understood, accepted, and loved for who we are – and in that friendship there is also a freedom to change and grow – our friend doesn’t require us to be fixed as the person they thought we were on the day we first met. I’ve always loved this old quote on friendship by Dinah Craik: ‘Oh, the comfort—the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person—having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.’
As I read those words some of my dearest friends come to mind – and I hope you can also think of people with whom you’ve had this sort of deep and precious connection – I find myself thinking of my best friend Jef Jones, who some of you knew, Jef died suddenly and unexpectedly last May.
I guess quite a number of us are of an age where we’re likely to have lost some of our friends – some will have sadly died, some may have moved away and lost touch, some we may have fallen out with. The loss of a close friend can be absolutely devastating – I’ve experienced it twice now, with Jef last year, and also with Simon John Barlow who I was very close to in my 30s – he also died suddenly and he was only the age that I am now. I chose a prayer he’d written for today’s service in his honour. People don’t always seem to realise the impact of such losses – it’s treated as not as significant as the loss of a family member – but I know many people (particularly people who are estranged from their family of origin) who speak of their friends as ‘chosen family’; certainly for those who of us who are single, or without an extended biological family, our friends can be really central to our lives.
Each friendship draws out a certain version of us. As Thomas Moore wrote: ‘Each friend is indeed a world, a special sphere of certain emotions, experiences, memories, and qualities of personality. Each friend takes us into a world that is ourselves as well. We are all made up of many worlds and each friendship brings one or more of those worlds to life.’ And, likewise, Henri Nowuen wrote: ‘One friend may offer us affection, another may stimulate our minds, another may strengthen our souls. The more able we are to receive the different gifts our friends have to give us, the more able we will be to offer our own unique but limited gifts. Thus, friendships create a beautiful tapestry of love.’
When I think about my friend Jef, and about Simon John, both ‘gone too soon’, I feel a bit robbed. I really envy people who have those long-lasting – even life-long – friendships, where they’ve been able to accompany each other through decades of life, they’ve gone through all the ups and downs together, and have been there for each other offering mutual support through life’s many phases. But still, though those significant friendships were cut short, they were both transformative for me – they played a role in my own becoming – coming to know myself, to find my way in the world, to flourish. So in some sense I know they are still with me – they’ve shaped who I am – and I carry them onward in my mind, my heart, and my own way of being in the world as I live on. As David Whyte has written: ‘Friendship transcends disappearance: an enduring friendship goes on after death, the exchange only transmuted by absence, the relationship advancing and maturing in a silent internal conversational way, even after one half of the bond has passed on…. the ultimate touchstone of friendship is not improvement, neither of the other nor of the self, the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another, to have walked with them and to have believed in them, and sometimes just to have accompanied them for however brief a span, on a journey impossible to accomplish alone.’
As we heard in the reading from Hannah earlier, it can feel harder to make new friends as we get older, as our lives might already be full-to-overflowing with grown-up commitments, and it can feel impossible to put in the hours required to meet new people and build deep and lasting connections. And our capacity for such deep friendship is probably limited anyway – it is likely we can only sustain a few such connections – to quote Aristotle again: ‘To be a friend to many people in the way of perfect friendship is impossible… it is difficult to share intimately in the joys and sorrows of many people; for one may very likely be called upon to rejoice with one and to mourn with another at the same time.’
That said, I encourage you to tend to your friendships – to give them the care and attention they deserve – as they are so crucial to our mutual flourishing. And if you don’t feel you have these sort of connections in your life right now, and you’d like them, why not treat this as an invitation to set out with intention to meet new people and, perhaps, find those with whom your soul resonates?
More on this next week – when we’ll hear from Liz, Carolyn, Gaynor and Roy – but I want to close this reflection with a short blessing for friendship, adapted from words by John O’Donohue:
May you be blessed with good friends.
May you learn to be a good friend to yourself.
May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where
there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness.
May this change you.
May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you.
May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging.
May you never be isolated.
May you treasure your friends.
May you be good to them and may you be there for them;
(and) may they bring you all the blessing, challenges, truth,
and light that you need for your journey. Amen.
Reflection by Jane Blackall
An audio recording of this sermon is available: