On Friendship

What does it mean to be a friend? I have lived a scattered life, long of the opinion that I was rather little liked and regarded, and I have spent too little time in reflecting and acting on what it means to be a friend, seeing as I thought I had very few people who were concerned at all about me. Perhaps it was rather self-centered, and mistaken, of me to think and feel this way, but so it is. We are all interconnected with each other, and our happiness and sadness, our triumphs and our trials all have an effect on those around us. We are, after all, to rejoice with those who laugh and cry with those who mourn. As I have reflected on the fact that I have a surprising amount of friends and acquaintances, I have also reflected on their lives and on the many connections between all of us, even after many of us have scattered far and wide from where we originally met and have not seen each other for years.

One of my classmates from high school recently got engaged. This is not terribly surprising, as it is the time of life where people tend to get married, but what struck me is that this person's wedding wishes were so frequent (I sent him wedding wishes myself) that he is not able to invite all of his friends to the reception. Certainly I can sympathize with his problem, and the way in which he is handling the large amount of well-wishers is quite admirable. Happy indeed is the man (or woman) who knows how well they are thought of by others. This particular young man graduated from the same high school as I did in the same year, but I did not know him closely then. We were both in Orchestra during high school--I as a violist towards the back of the section and he as the concertmaster--first chair first violin. It seemed that everything came so easily for him--he was charming, friendly, good looking, came from a wealthy and loving family, was stellar in school, in tennis, in playing the violin, and seemingly in everything he did. He was (and remains) active in various religious groups as well as his social activities. And yet he was and remains well-liked by just about everyone. About the only bad thing I ever heard about him was that his violin playing was skilled but not passionate, and considering the bad things I have heard about others (and myself) this is rather light indeed. And yet, despite the apparent ease of his life and of his frequent successes in so many years, no one (including myself) begrudges him any of his happiness. Instead we share in his joy over his happy life, and hope it will continue as such. As he is a just and fair and friendly fellow, his happiness and success does not come with resentment from anyone who knows him.

At other times, one must share sorrow and not joy when it comes to friends. One of my friends, for example, is having a rough time with stomach cancer, and I have not seen him (largely because I am sick right now and would not wish to pass on any germs to someone whose health is already in such a state as his), but I have sought to send my regards through other friends who are able to see him. The same is true for other friends I have--one of whom has been struggling with colon cancer for about two years now, and the father of another friend of mine whose pancreatic cancer has spread to other organs also. At other times, one must support friends whose struggles are not life-threatening illnesses, but such mundane troubles as car problems, or such serious life-issues as the breakup of a marriage or serious family difficulties. There is no shortage of friends in need indeed. When my friends suffer, I suffer with them. I suppose the same is true of others. We cannot be so consumed with our own lives that we are ignorant of what is going on with others--even if there is little we can do besides lend a sympathetic ear to them, or to spend our precious time reminding them that they are not alone and that they are in our thoughts and prayers. It is a terrible thing to feel and believe one is alone--and I would not wish that on anyone, much less those I care about.

At other times being a friend means helping in the labors of what friends seek to accomplish. I have many friends who, like myself, study and write about subjects of faith as well as of amusement. Even if I lack the time to do as much as I would like to help in the various labors of my friends, I will often help them edit and refine what they have written, which is what I would also expect of them. Sometimes this research is an areas I am knowledgeable in, and sometimes it is not. When I know something of the topic, I usually try to discuss this with the friend. If I do not know about the subject at hand in depth (and this does happen on occasion), then I will often take that as the opportunity to research areas I have not studied at length before. Having intelligent and intellectually curious friends is a good way to ensure that one is constantly learning and growing as well, and keeps the mind fresh. It is tragic to cease learning because one thinks one knows everything already. The greater my knowledge, the more profound my sense of ignorance, if only because I realize there is so much more that I do not understand.

I often wish I was a better friend. Often I feel that I am too concerned about my own thoughts and affairs to be the sort of friend I ought to be. Perhaps my friends may feel differently about this, and if so they are welcome to tell me, but I wonder often if I have shared enough in the joy and sorrows of those friends I have. A true friend is present in good times and bad, even if all one can do is provide moral support by one's mere presence and cannot actually do anything about a given situation. Sometimes that is enough. I know I am thankful for those friends I have, and I would hope they are thankful as well.