Dangerous Liaisons: On Costly Friendship

A reader sends along this fine reflection he wrote:

When the great crowd of the Jews learned that he was there, they came, not only on account of Jesus, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus also to death, because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus. (John 12:9-11)

Most of the time when we are disliked, even hated, it is because of our own annoying or even low habits, our incompetence, or our bad qualities and sins. Usually the person who dislikes us has their own issues that make our foibles and faults particularly grating. We rarely are entirely innocent, either when we dislike another or are dislikeable. A good deal of the hatred of the world for Christians and Christianity can be explained by our hypocrisy, our weakness, ignorance and other failings.

But every once in a while we get blindsided by opposition or hatred – not for our faults, but for our gifts and the good we would do or our love for what is lovely. Mary, Martha and Lazarus of Bethany all had this experience. They were a family where Jesus truly had a refuge – and He blessed, confounded and even endangered them. His blessings are obvious: imagine being the family with whom Jesus wanted to rest and refresh Himself, whom He taught and for whom He worked one of His greatest miracles.  Friendship with Jesus is a miracle.

Jesus also confounded His beloved friends. Jesus’ seeming rebuke of Martha is well known (even if Meister Eckhart’s reading of it is a lovely subversion of what has too often been read as a kind of sexist put-down of Martha’s seemingly mindless domesticity). Mary’s reaction to Jesus’ delay in coming to Bethany when Lazarus was sick is also telling. At first even someone who sat at Jesus’ feet doesn’t come out to see Him, as if she is hurt by how His delay led to Lazarus’ death (though interestingly, Martha, the “less spiritual” one, does go out to Jesus and makes a confession of faith that is deep and personal in spite of her pain – and in hope in Jesus’ power). And of course, it is worth imagining how utterly confusing it was for Lazarus, who almost certainly asked for His friend and worker of wonders to come to him while he was sick, only to die – and then to be called back to life. That seems about as disorienting as is possible. Friendship with Jesus can be confusing and painful.

And now we find out that friendship with Jesus is dangerous. Being open to Jesus’ friendship is miraculous and confounding. And the danger begins precisely when it is clear to the world how we have received Him and witness (and even are gifted by) His miracles. People will see us differently because we will be different people when we befriend and follow Jesus. Many will notice and be drawn to us through Him and His work in our lives. When meeting us also means meeting Jesus, people will seek us out (even in the first century double features were popular) – since they want both the Human-and-Divine presence of Jesus and the reassurance that following Him is a thoroughly human thing.

Yet there is also an “odium fidei” that is real. It was not only many of the powers-that-were in the world who hated Jesus, even as he presented to them a way – the only way – out of the dilemmas and hatreds that were going to explode in Judea a few decades later. The changes that come from our friendship with Jesus will result in many people “going away and believing in Jesus.” They continually disrupt any plans we might have, for our nearest and dearest family and friends, or for ourselves. Jesus is willing to break all of our boundaries, and so He can be as dangerous to us as He is to the world – and for exactly the same reason. Jesus’ love always challenges pretensions of control – both the powers-that-wanna-be and our own desire to rule ourselves and those we love.

So the test of our friendship with Jesus is that it will continue to be miraculous, confusing, and dangerous. We can discover now, at the end of Lent and during Holy Week, how “no servant is greater than their Lord.” Jesus’ provision for us includes giving us a cross, and asking us to take it up even (perhaps especially) when it seems God has turned away from us. But here is the ongoing miracle and gift of this friendship: it will put us in danger and even consume us if we let it, since Jesus does intend to “cross” us. But that is our hope – not only to be like the grain of wheat that dies and bears much fruit, but even more audaciously, to hope in the power of the cross. To hope that in taking up our cross and giving ourselves completely to Him, and all our brothers and sisters who seek Him, we will help draw all people to Him, and taste and see the power of His Resurrection.