Have you ever said, “I love you” to a friend? Someone not a spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend; not someone within Cupid’s target zone for you?
I myself can’t recall doing that – perhaps partly because I live in fear, professionally, of blurring boundaries, of someone misinterpreting my words – though have heard them spoken a time or two. And, let’s face it: our stinginess in using those words with friends is due to the fact that we live in such a highly sexualized, amorized society. (Amortized society?)
In our culture, the meaning of “love” in that three-word phrase “I love you” is almost exclusively limited to that of Eros. One heterosexual guy telling another, “I love you.” Whoa. You must be gay.
Perhaps it’s an obvious point then: that our culture has in many ways lost the art of friendship. And here I also need to make a distinction based on gender. It’s my observation (and thus certainly open to critique) that men often find it much more difficult to find friendship with other men, than is the case among females in their search for friendship.
Why is that? It’s striking that in the ancient world – the world of the Bible, and especially the ancient Greek-speaking world – the opposite was really the case. In the ancient world, love, the highest and most beautiful form, was that shared between men.
On Sunday, we will reflect on the kind of love denoted by the word Philia, or friendship-love. Philia is a love between equals, love that seeks the well-being of the other, love that seeks the excellence in the other, brings out the best in the other.
Have you ever been with someone in whose presence you feel all those qualities in yourself you think to be most valuable? When I’m with, let’s say, Jim, or Sally – I feel smart, and funny, and at ease; I feel most myself. This is the experience of Philia. And we clearly know its opposite too – those in whose presence you feel inadequate, dumb, cut to size and worse-than.
Philia is valuable to knowing who we are; toward becoming who we are meant to be. The ancient Greeks especially knew the value of this kind of friendship love. On Sunday, I’ll speak a bit about Aristotle, and his book the Nicomachean Ethics, in which he writes about how friendship is a means toward attaining virtue.
And of course, Sunday’s sermon will be a scriptural exploration about the topic: how do we see our need for friendship in light of the friendship of Christ: the God-man, come down to us, who doesn’t demand to be called master, but wants us to call him friend.
Are we hungry for this kind of friendship? Is there a gender difference? Has anyone ever said “I love you” to you – not as a lover, but a friend? Love to hear your reflections on this. And would love some good material for the sermon.
Jeff
PS – Some other stuff to check out if you are interested in the subject – in particular, movies. Judd Apatow has now created his own genre of movies, and a new “term” for them: “bromance.” Check out Superbad, or his more recent I Love You Man. (I’ve seen the former but not the latter). Also, the previously-featured Big Kahuna is really about Philia. You must see it if you have not….
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4 comments:
Interesting timing. I wrote a blog post along these lines this morning: http://marktime.org/?p=1243
I am finding this exact kind of connection with my friend Katie right now. Intense, loving emotions without any romantic edge. She brings out the best in me. And we have said "I love you, as a friend" to each other. It's magic.
In our congregation I see it all the time, but I suspect the words are not spoken. I see it across gender, age, and family boundaries.
But regrettably in the greater world societal expectations have made it rare.
Your blog brought to mind threads of several of your previous sermons. One is that it is scary to put yourself out there by saying "I love you" to someone... in that way, Philia is very much like Eros. But sometimes by daring yourself to overcome fear you can make a difference. It seems to me that by telling someone you love them, they might lose some of their hard edges (as might you), and pass that feeling along to someone else, and slowly little parts of the world may become better as we all become a little more Real a la the Velveteen Rabbit. But it's scary, no matter how badly we want to say it or hear it.
I do have two female friends who I freely tell I love, but we have been friends for many many years. I love them because their friendship is, in certain ways, perfect for me. We have often said that we have no need to check in with each other every day, or every week, just to make sure we're still friends. Life goes on and sometimes we don't talk for months, but when we do there are never apologies for not keeping in touch... just a continuation. In this way it seems to us (women) that we behave more like men, so I think I challenge your comment about friendship being more difficult for men to establish. Female friendship may seem easier because contact may happen more frequently, but it can be much more high maintenance!
So interesting and helpful, Nancy - I really appreciate your insight. From one (male) angle of view it can seem so much easier - but one does well not to generalize, and you bear witness to the fact that it's much much more complicated than that.
And - the Velveteen Rabbit - yes! How appropriate. We become "real" through loving and being loved. Yes indeed.
Mark - thanks to you also for sharing your experience. It's so true that some of the closest friendships are not about what gender - but what person you connect with - and that seems to be a real key: who is able to help you be you, bring out what is true, good, whole in you.
Onward!
Dear Jeff:
I hope this is not too rambling and does not go too far off your theme.
I find your sermon series on Love to be compelling and fascinating. I see Love in its many forms to be central to the world, as I perceive it and myself in it. Two authors, who have had tremendous impact on my life, have focused upon the powerful role that Love plays in our world: the Christian author/philosopher C.S. Lewis and the author psychologist Erich Fromm [brought up as a Jew, turned agnostic].
In C.S. Lewis’ radio tapes [1950’s?], later revised and published as a book titled “The Four Loves,” he examined the different types of love examined in Greek thought and found in The Bible. He referred to them as familial or affectionate love (storge), friendship (philia), romantic love (eros), and spiritual love (agape). Though it is debatable whether one can love any single human being too much, Lewis noted we must be sure we do not “love him too much in proportion to our love for God.”
Lewis and many other Christian writers refer to four, not three loves.
In your three sermons on Love, you are focusing on the last three of Lewis’s “Four Loves.” Is there a reason for leaving “Storge” out?
As I understand it, Storge is the Greek word for the love between family members or members of a close community. Lewis referred to this love as Storge in the lectures, but in the book he called it affection.
Storge is generally most evident parental love for their children. Most parents are so devoted to their children's welfare that they are willing to sacrifice, to do almost anything, for the sake their children. The love children feel for their parents, as well as the love between relatives in an extended family, is also a form of Storge.
Storge is a committed, and often, sacrificial love. It is unconditional, is willing to overlook other's faults and frequently is forgiving. This love is often taken for granted. Storge is the love where just being in the presence of one another is sufficient unto itself.
Fromm’s work was particularly attractive during my college and graduate years. Two of his statements have long remained with me.
“In love the paradox occurs that two beings become one and yet remain two.” By love he does not restrict himself to erotic love here.
“Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.” This is one of the most obvious, yet ignored truths I have ever encountered.
Also, Fromm’s emphasis on the need for “self-love” which is actually the opposite of “selfishness.” If you do not love yourself, you cannot love anyone. That was a wake-up call to me in my teens.
Agape, Bob Sinner
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