Lenten Series, Week Three: Friendship

“Make new friends, but keep the old…” I can hear my Brownie troop’s voices singing the old song. I loved Brownies and Girl Scouting, and singing was just one part of its allure. Friendship was another.

Once I learned that anyone can measure their placement in a generation as the midpoint of a 200-year span. That is to say, for me, I can remember that my grandfather was born in 1896 and my newborn grandson may well live until 2096. My personal connection to people who will span those 200 years is real and authentic.

As I’ve aged, I have learned to treasure first the friends who could remember my grandparents with me. And now, I treasure those who can recall stories about my mom and dad. Those friendships are precious — and few.

Through my life, I’ve collected dear friends. Not long ago, one of them remarked to me: “You have more friends than anyone I know!” Hmmm, I’m not sure about that, but I do love my friends. And, they represent seasons of my life — middle school, college, my children’s friends’ parents, folks who share my faith, coworkers from several jobs and, yes, Girl Scouting. We’ve shared good times and hard times: marriages, miscarriages, childbirth, divorces, serious illnesses and deaths. We’ve talked until we were exhausted and worked side-by-side on issues important to us. We’ve loved each other well.

Henri Nouwen’s words in “Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith” remind me of the sacredness of friendship.

“God’s love for us is everlasting. That means that God’s love for us existed before we were born and will exist after we have died. It is an eternal love in which we are embraced. Living a spiritual life called us to claim that eternal love for ourselves so that we can live our temporal loves … as reflections or refractions of God’s eternal love.”

God’s love stretches well beyond 200 years and as we build friendships with those who are older or younger than ourselves, so too, does our participation in this everlasting love. Friendship’s love stretching forward and backward in time, held in God’s care. This makes me pause and reflect.

Recently, a resident at Pilgrim Manor (a United Church Homes property in Grand Rapids, Michigan) asked me if I would be her friend. I’ve come to know several folks in that community as I’ve led Sunday afternoon chapel on a more regular schedule. I know the folks who consistently pray for our leaders, others who welcome an opportunity to talk with clergy and the musicians.

This resident will be 100 years old on her next birthday. Her 200 years stretch farther back in history than mine; my span reaches farther into the future (perhaps) than hers. And, yet, in God’s amazing and eternal arc of love, we have found new friendship. I want to be like her when I “grow up.”

God’s eternal love reflected in the faces of friends whose lives are entwined with our own. Friends who remember our loved ones, who listen with open hearts, who treasure our time together. Friends whose love will continue even after our deaths, eternally.

Sing these words in your head — or out loud:

Make new friends,

But keep the old.

One is silver,

And the other’s gold.