Wonderful, Strange Friendships

I suspect that when the world looks upon the church, among the most perplexing realities is the friendship of its members. Unity in diversity is a visible witness of the deep spiritual realities of the gospel. It does not make sense in a culture obsessed with optimizing every aspect of life, including our set of friends. Our requirement for friendship in the local church is that you serve the Lord Jesus. The rest, as they say, is just gravy. How is it that a young jazz pianist is deep in friendship with an artist in his 70s who slings oil paint on canvas for a living? They might point out, “Well, they’re both into the arts.” Then I’d shoot back, “Yeah, but one’s from Southie and one’s from Lithuania.” This is just one example from our church of the clique shattering that the gospel is famous for. I love what C.S. Lewis said in Mere Christianity:

“The worldly man treats certain people kindly because he 'likes' them: the Christian, trying to treat every one kindly, finds him liking more and more people as he goes on - including people he could not even have imagined himself liking at the beginning.”

I think we should lean into more wonderful, strange relationships because they are a visible entailment of the invisible gospel. The gospel is powerful. So powerful, that it shatters the plans we have for our lives, including who is in our friend circles. Perhaps your unbelieving neighbor, looking at your set of friends, will become curious about you—why you’ve got so many misfits over for supper! They don’t yet know what you know. That despite our diversity, we have one giant thing in common. We are children of the living God. We are family. And that trumps everything else.