Every week I gather with a group of friends to talk about the lectionary readings for the week, as we wrestle with those texts that will become the basis for our sermons. This week the text is a very familiar one, but for some reason it triggered some very intense, even passionate discussion about how we understand God and our relationship with God.

The text is John 15: 9-17: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another. ”

The question was this: “Is God your friend?” It was kind of a spinoff of another question– “can a friend issue commands, or does the imperative imply a hierarchical relationship?”

The group meets on Tuesdays, and I spent the rest of the day on Tuesday and most of Wednesday thinking about those questions, and I came to this conclusion, if conclusion it is:

I do not think of the First Person of the Trinity as my friend. That’s a cozier relationship than I have with the Creator of All Worlds, whom Jesus called Father.

I do, however, think of Jesus as my friend–based both on my need (What a Friend, Precious Lord, Take My Hand) and on his declarative statement– “I have called you my friends”, which is really more about the commission he has given us to be FOR HIM in the world–more than proxy or power of attorney, but that comes close–because his promise is that where two or three of us are together, he’s present among us– so there’s a deep mutuality to the relationship.

What about the Spirit? Chrysostom gives us the trinity as lover, beloved, and love between, and perhaps the Spirit is that deep mutuality in action. In my thinking, it’s like the Spirit is a guide, a beacon or a wind nudging us on– not just motive but motivation, not just presence but power.

We can’t have any of them without all of them, but the power of Incarnation for me is that Jesus was how God chose to offer us friendship–not lifting us to divinity, but giving us as much of “himself” as we could/can bear–and then bearing with us through all of the misunderstandings, the betrayals, the false starts–and still trusting us with the task of bringing that hope, in all its fierceness and fragility, to the world.

In “What a Friend”, the verse says “All our sins and griefs to bear… what a privilege to carry everything to GOD in prayer”– so Jesus is the friend who works with us, redeems us, prays for us, but God is still the Prime Mover. And for me, that’s where the tremendum lies–the knowledge that God has purposes and plans beyond what we can understand and maybe even beyond what we can “abide”. But Jesus has made known to us what his part of things is, and asked us to become God-Bearers for his sake. Not because we are his servants, but because we are friends.

Ralph gave us some help with the idea that the “command” isn’t an absolute imperative, more like a quest or an obligation… we have the power to refuse it. But I keep circling back to the issue that, if we know what it means for Jesus and for the world to accept that quest, to obey that imperative, it does become absolute–we could deny it, but in doing so we would somehow also be denying our own integrity or knowledge–choosing blindness instead of sight, choosing darkness instead of light.

Because finally, we get our identity from our relationships and from the obligations they place on us–to do, to be, to want, to share, sometimes to refuse– and if we find our identity in being the “friends of Jesus”… well, it’s both choice and imperative. We are able to take on that identity for his sake, as we are able to act for the sake of other friends. It’s just that by the power of the Spirit, we’re able to go beyond our own limits when we are acting in his name.

As I typed the phrase “friends of Jesus,” I thought about AA and the way they identify meetings on cruise ships or at conventions large enough to have coordinated AA meetings for participants. The put on the schedule “lunch with friends of Bill” or “Bill’s Friends will meet”–and anyone who is working the program will know what that means. But not a lot of random people know that– it’s a coded message that carries information about where people can find support and sustenance in a new situation. Wouldn’t it be cool if people thought about the church that way?

Here’s the soundtrack for these reflections:

Doobie Bros, singing “Jesus is Just Alright”

Willie Nelson, singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”

Mahalia Jackson, “Precious Lord, Take My Hand”