Come Before Winter

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

1 Samuel 20:1-17; 2 Timothy 4:9-22; John 15:13-17

August 12, 2012 • Portage First UMC

According to Facebook, I have 1,027 friends. And since it’s on the internet, it must be true, right? 1,027 friends…and most of them I actually know! It’s a result of having lived in many different places in my life, and having served three churches over the past twenty years. But, honestly, most of them I don’t see very often if at all. A few of them are “friends of friends” that I may never have met. Social media is actually changing the very definition of the word “friend” (or at least what we think it means), because you can be “friends” online with nearly anyone in the world. Facebook alone has an estimated 845 million active users, so conceivably you could have 845 million friends all over the world, never having met most of them. The other thing social media has done is introduced the concept of “unfriending” people. Online, you simply click a link and you’re not friends anymore. All of this without having to see, confront or talk to the other person. Now, I use social media and I know it has tremendous power to connect people, but it’s changing the concept of friendship radically, especially among younger people. Today, many people have lots of online friends, but we have very few “real” friends.

By “real friends,” I mean those folks you could call at 2:00 a.m. and know they would listen to you and do whatever it would take to help you if needed. Or, at the very least, people who will be there to listen, to not judge and to buy you a cup of coffee in the real world. Friends are vitally important to our well-being. John Ortberg tells of a research project done a few years ago by a social scientist from Harvard. The researchers tracked 7,000 people over a period of nine years, and one of the things they learned is that people who were isolated, who had few or no friends, were three times more likely to die younger than those who had strong relational connections. Maybe even more surprising was this fact: “People who had bad health habits (such as smoking, poor eating habits, obesity, or alcohol use) but strong social ties lived significantly longer than people who had great health habits but were isolated. In other words,” Ortberg says, “it is better to eat Twinkies with good friends than to eat broccoli alone.” Another study, reported in the Journal of the American Medical Association, told of a project in which 276 volunteers were infected with a virus that produced the common cold. (Not something I would volunteer for!) Those who had close friends were four times better fighting off the illness than those who were more isolated. The study said these people were less susceptible to colds, had less virus, and produced significantly less mucous than people who kept to themselves. It’s true: unfriendly people are snottier than friendly people (John Ortberg, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them, p. 33)!

The Gallup Organization studied the relationship between friends and work. People who have no friends at their job only have a 1 in 12 chance of feeling engaged in or connected to their work. On the other hand, if you have a “best friend” at work, you’re seven times more likely to be engaged in what you’re doing. Time magazine put it this way: “Let friendship ring. It might look like idle chatter, but when employees find friends at work, they feel connected to their jobs. Having a best friend at work is a strong predictor for being a happy and productive employee.” The bottom line? Friendships—real friendships, not just online connections—are vitally important, because, as the Bible has asserted all along, we were made for community.

Last week, we began a series of messages looking at the various relationships in our lives. During August, we’re focusing on four words that, in the New Testament world, describe love, and so we began last week with storge, which is family love. Families are where we first learn what love looks like, and when we get that healthy picture, we’re able then to share that with others, with friends. The Biblical word for friendship is philos, as in “Philadelphia,” which is actually a Greek word that means “city of brotherly love” or “city of friends.” “Philos” describes the kind of bond between two people that comes from a work relation, or common interests, or any number of other things that connect people. In ancient times, this word described the “best man” in a wedding party, whose responsibilities included asking for the hand of the bride, finding out if she would marry the groom. “Philos” is being willing to stand by someone, to do what is needed for them, and in the Scriptures there are many images of such friendship. For our sake this morning, though, I want to just look at three stories, and from each of those stories, draw out a principle of Biblical friendship. So—three stories, three principles, and one question I’m going to ask all the way through: how good a friend are you? Pretty simple, so we’re going to start in the Old Testament, with two men named David and Jonathan.

David, you might remember, was chosen by God to be king of Israel after the first king, Saul, failed to be who God called him to be. David was a shepherd boy who suddenly found himself at the center of political intrigue, because Saul was not going to go quietly. He made repeated attempts to kill David, and often he had David on the run throughout the desert of Judea. Jonathan, you might not remember. He is Saul’s son. He is the heir apparent. He is the one who, by succession, would naturally follow his father on the throne, become the next king. And that’s why Saul can’t begin to understand the friendship that grows between David and Jonathan. David is Jonathan’s replacement. David is the reason Jonathan will not become king. And yet, rather than join Saul in his murderous rage against David, Jonathan becomes David’s most loyal friend and supporter.

When we join the narrative in 1 Samuel 20, Saul has already made attempts on David’s life. Jonathan is in denial, and I don’t think it’s because he’s trying to deceive David or because he’s trying to keep both sides happy. I think it’s because he can’t imagine why his father would want to kill the one God has chosen. To Jonathan, David is not a replacement. He is a friend. And so, in this chapter, when David comes to Jonathan, asking what he has done to deserve such treatment, Jonathan says, “My father wouldn’t do that!” When David pushes the issue, Jonathan’s next words are those of a close friend: “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do for you” (20:4).

David reminds Jonathan that the next day is a special feast. It’s the beginning of the month, the New Moon Feast, a time when a special meal was eaten in God’s presence and special sacrifices were offered. And even though David was hated by Saul, David would still be expected to show up at dinner, because he was part of the royal court (Goldingay, 1 & 2 Samuel for Everyone, pg. 95; Arnold, NIV Application Commentary: 1 & 2 Samuel, pgs. 296-297). So, David says he’ll skip the meal, and if Saul is angry, Jonathan will know that his father intends to harm David. The rest of our reading, then, is a description of the covenant of friendship David and Jonathan share. Now, we usually use the word “covenant” to describe a marriage relationship, but here it’s used in a different but no less significant way, because the whole conversation is couched in terms of loyalty to each other. David wants to be assured Jonathan will keep his promises even at the risk of angering his father. And Jonathan, for his part, wants David to promise to take care of Jonathan’s children when David becomes king. Jonathan knows it’s customary for ancient Near Eastern kings to get rid of all the descendants of anyone who might threaten their throne (Arnold 299), and so Jonathan asks David to show the same mercy to his offspring that he shows to Jonathan. Together, they make promises to each other that come from a deep loyalty rooted in the relationship both of them have with God.

The word used here to describe it is hesed, which is a difficult word to translate into English. Most often, you might find it as “kindness” or “lovingkindness.” It can mean loyalty, faithfulness, mercy, love. The basic meaning is close to this: when the one who owes you nothing gives you everything. Most often, it’s used to describe the way God views us, but it’s also used in the Bible and in the Old Testament specifically to describe human relationships in which we faithfully live out our commitment to each other by doing what we can for the other. We put the other first. We show kindness by what we do, by the way we treat those we call our friends (Arnold 301). Jesus described it this way: “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). And for these friends, it was a commitment that extended to each other’s family. In fact, when Jonathan is killed and David becomes king, he extends kindness to Jonathan’s sole survivor, Mephibosheth (Goldingay 97). So the first principle we find for Biblical friendship is loyalty, a willingness to do what is needed for the other person.

In the movie Rudy, we meet a young man who wants nothing more than to play football for Notre Dame. But he’s told he’s too small, he can’t do it, and even though he’s given a place on the practice squad, all he really wants to do is to suit up. He wants his parents, so proud of him for being admitted to Notre Dame, to see him on the field. The new coach says no, until Rudy’s friends do what they don’t have to do and stand up for him.

VIDEO CLIP: Rudy, “Dress in My Place”

Biblical friendship is rooted in covenant and in unfailing kindness. Philos—friendship—is loyalty. So the question: how good a friend are you?

Now, let’s turn to the New Testament. David and Jonathan’s story is rooted in the early stages of a friendship, but Paul’s story, as we find it in 2 Timothy, is nearing the end. In fact, many believe 2 Timothy was, perhaps, the last letter Paul wrote before he was killed by the Romans. At this point in his life, Paul has been through a lot. He’s traveled all over the known world, preaching the Gospel, leading others to Jesus, starting churches and facing opposition. He’s in prison now, probably in Rome, and he is alone. So he takes up pen and paper and writes to his friend, his “dear son,” as he calls him in the beginning of this letter, Timothy (1:2). Timothy is one Paul mentored and then helped establish as a pastor in Ephesus. This letter is, in many ways, Paul’s final charge and challenge and encouragement to Timothy—his last chance to mentor him. So he covers many things, and then, at the end of the letter, Paul gets very personal. He’s lonely. “Only Luke is with me,” he says (4:11), and he needs to know someone is out there, someone is supporting him. He’s known what it feels like to be deserted, to be left alone when facing trial, and to have people he trusted “do him harm” (4:14). He’s known what it’s like to have people reject the faith he tried to hard to live and to instill in them (4:10). Now, he knows God has been with him through all of that, but you know, sometimes we just need to have flesh and blood reassurance. It’s true that Jesus will never leave us or forsake us (cf. Hebrews 13:5), but sometimes we need that friend who comes alongside as a reminder. That’s why, I think, Proverbs reminds us, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity” (17:17). You’ve known times like that, haven’t you? I have. It is in the most difficult times in our lives when we find out who our “real friends” are. It is in those times when we walk through the fire that we discover who will come alongside and walk with us. Even when others desert us, a friend will stick close. Hear again words from Proverbs, words which, to me, almost read like a prayer: “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (18:24).

And so, Paul writes to Timothy. “Do your best to come to me quickly,” he asks. In fact, he specifically asks Timothy to come before winter (14:21). Now, undoubtedly, he’s worried about Timothy traveling in bad weather. There’s an urgency in the request that Timothy would come before the sea lanes are closed for the winter. Land travel was bad enough in the winter; sea travel was impossible (Arnold 296). So certainly he is concerned about the weather; that’s also evident because he asks for his cloak, his heavy outer garment he left in Troas (4:13). Even in a relatively warm climate like Rome, the underground prison would be damp and cold. But I think there’s a deeper significance in Paul’s call for Timothy to come before winter. He seems to know his end is near; he says as much earlier in the letter when he tells Timothy, “I am being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near” (4:6). Paul wants Timothy to make sure he arrives so Paul can see his friend one last time before he leaves this world. “Winter” becomes a metaphor for the end of one’s life. And though Paul knows he has been faithful to what he was called to do (cf. 4:7-8), he still longs to know that his ministry and his friendship with Timothy has made a difference. “Come before winter, Timothy. I need your support, I need to sense your faithful friendship.” So, the first principle of Biblical friendship was loyalty. And the second principle is this: we show our friends support even in the darkest of times. We stand by them, like Timothy stood by Paul.

One other quick thing to point out when it comes to Paul: consider how willing he is to forgive those who have hurt him. He writes this: “At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them” (4:16). That challenges and convicts me, because when someone has hurt me, when someone has deserted me or, worse, intended to harm me, I have a hard time getting to forgiveness. Now Paul does not say we should put ourselves back in a place where we can be hurt again. He also doesn’t say we should continue to try to be friends with them. Perhaps they have proven they can’t be trusted or counted on or whatever. But part of friendship is being willing to forgive (for our own sake, if nothing else), to move on, to do what Paul did, to turn the hurt and the relationship over to Jesus. And I’ll admit, that’s hard for me to do. I’m working on it. So, again, the question: how good a friend are you?

For the third story, we turn back a few pages to the Gospel of John, to a walk Jesus took with his disciples on the last night before his crucifixion. We looked at this story a few weeks ago, but this morning I want to focus on the sort of people Jesus calls “philos”—friend. “Greater love,” Jesus says, “has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s philos. You are my philos if you do what I command” (15:13-14). And he goes on to talk about his command is to bear fruit by loving one another. So these disciples are Jesus’ friends, his philos. And they live that out by doing what Jesus said. They live it out by bearing fruit for his kingdom. They live it out by loving one another. These particular disciples lived it out in the next few years by going to the ends of the earth to tell others about Jesus. They shared faith. They preached good news. They made an impact on their world. And all of them, except one, died a martyr’s death because of their faith. The world put them to death because they were so radically wrapped up in the love of Jesus, in being Jesus’ friends. So the third principle, then, is this, I believe: to be a true philos to someone means we share faith. We are concerned enough about their eternity that we want to make a difference in the lives of our friends with the love of Jesus.

Of all the things we talk about with our friends, rarely do we talk about the most important things. We talk about the weather, the latest technology, who won the big game last night, where we should go to eat today, how our kids are doing in school, how our golf game is going, or what kind of car we’d like to buy next—all of these things that we talk about, endlessly, and rarely do we ever get around to talking about the things that are most important. Rarely do we ever get around to talking about our faith. You know, our mission statement here at the church is that we’re becoming a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ. Our mission statement as the United Methodist Church is that we are making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. We believe, and the Bible tells us this, that the message of Jesus is the most important message in the world. Choosing to follow him is the most important decision we will ever make because that decision alone determines our eternity. We’re wasting time worrying about things that won’t last while people we call friends—whether they’re on Facebook or in the real world—all around us are headed into an eternity without Jesus. Hell, whatever else it is, is eternal separation from God’s presence. When will our friends become important enough to us that we’ll do what Jesus said and share our faith with them?

Now, I’m not talking about being a Bible thumper and going to every friend and telling them to “turn or burn.” Sharing our faith with someone ought not to be a threatening thing. It ought to be something that flows out of us naturally, through an invitation to go with you to a church service or an event or a work project, or by sharing at an appropriate time how your faith in Jesus helped you through a difficult or dark place. You see, becoming a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ and making disciples for Jesus doesn’t just happen within these walls. It can’t. It’s more likely going to happen in your everyday life, in the relationships and friendships God has entrusted to you. You will reach people and touch lives I never will because of your commitment to a philos love which includes loving our friends enough to be concerned for their eternity. I’ll never forget when I was very young the way God impressed this on me. I can even remember where I was in our house in Sedalia, and I was watching something (I don’t remember what) on television when God spoke very clearly to my heart. God gave me a vision of a friend of mine spending eternity without Jesus, and in that moment I could feel what it would be like if that friend entered eternity separated from God. It was a horrible, empty feeling. And, I think, it’s that experience that has given me a passion for mobilizing folks to share faith with friends. Philos love calls us to do what Jesus commands, to love others enough to share faith with them. So, again, the question: how good a friend are you?

So David and Jonathan remind us of the vital importance of loyalty. Paul and Timothy remind us how critical support is, especially in difficult times. And Jesus calls us to share faith. These images are at least part of what Biblical friendship looks like. And along the way this morning, you’ve been examining what kind of friend you are. So let me ask one more question: are you willing to invest the time and energy it’s going to take to become a better friend? Because it will take time, and perhaps patience. This week, one morning, I was working at Starbucks, and sitting across the room from me were two friends, one of which was talking rather loudly. And he kept talking. And kept talking. And I got to the point where I wanted to ask him to stop talking, but his friend patiently listened. And the more I thought about that, I wondered if he realized how good a friend he had there. To practice philos is going to mean we need to listen well in order to know our friends well enough to know what they need. How can we live out loyalty to them? How can we support them? How can we share faith with them? We’re going to have to listen more than we usually do. So much of our friendships stay on the surface because we talk and we talk and we talk and we don’t listen. And more than that, we don’t take time to listen to the whispers of the Holy Spirit, because if we’re listening to the Spirit of God, I believe we’ll be able to hear what our friend needs. Are you willing to take and invest the time that’s needed to be a true philos?

And, one more thing—like Paul asked of Timothy, we need to do it before “winter,” before there is no more time. When we were in college, Cathy and I had a friend named Sherry. We were all in InterVarsity together, and got to know each other, and then we all graduated, Cathy and I got married, and everyone moved on with their life. Sherry came to visit us once in seminary, not long after she’d been diagnosed with scleroderma, a disease that attacks the connective tissue in your body. Sherry fought against it well, even entering a program at Ohio State for her doctorate. We visited her there once, and then we sort of lost touch. When she died a few years later, just shy of having completed her doctorate, I wondered why we hadn’t said the sorts of things we should have. We were always joking around with Sherry; that was somehow easier. But I don’t know that we ever became the support she needed. I don’t know that we ever listened well enough to know what that would look like. Now, this is not one of those “feel bad for me” stories. Sherry’s in heaven with Jesus, but her story and other things that have happened to me through the years have made me determined to let people know how important they are to me. I want to be a good and loyal philos. I want to represent Jesus well, because friendship is vitally important to each of us. God made us for community. God made us to be in relationship with each other. So let me ask you one more time: what kind of friend are you? And if you’re not the kind you want to be, what will you do this week to become more loyal, more supportive, more like Jesus? Who is in your life right now whom you can invest in? I can’t urge you enough to do it before “winter.” Let’s pray for our friends, shall we?