Friendship Happens

One of the five most influential Christian writers of the 20th century once wrote that he, a devout Christian, and his Atheist colleagues in the academy, should be the best of friends.  

You heard correctly.  Even though he worked in one of the most prestigious and rigorous academic institutions on the planet, where having the answers and “being right” were the difference between having a professorship and not, he believed that a Christian scholar/apologist and his Atheist scholar/apologist co-faculty should be the closest of friends.

How is that possible?

In recent weeks, Kari and I have been exploring peacemaking.  We discussed it on our last podcast, in our conversation with Jon Huckins and in my last blog.  That may seem like an awful lot of airtime, but in this seemingly increasingly polarized world, where friendships and families are breaking down, Kari and I felt like this was an important Pilgrim topic.

For instance, regarding potentially divisive topics in the realms of politics, culture or religion, we have talked about having compassion toward ourselves when it comes to our personal philosophical dogma.  It seems like so many people today feel the burden to have it all figured out.  I was just thinking about how many times I hear someone say in recent months, “Oh, I’ve done the research.  And I KNOW it is true.”  Really?  What a prison it is to live in a world where we must muster the illusion that we KNOW.  

What if, when we talk to ourselves, we used language more like:

“Even though I are just working things out, I totally accept myself.”

“It seems to me that my way of thinking could be really helpful and loving.”

“Though I want to be 100% right all the time, the truth is that what I believe is mostly just strong suspicions and that is good enough.”

If we start to talk to ourselves this way, then we are more prepared to enter the world, free of absolutes, free of the language of exclusion and de-selection and instead offer the open door found in the language of journey, exploration and curiosity.

Now, what about the influential Christian scholar from the beginning of this conversation?  How could he say that he and Atheists should be the best of friends?

Well, he put it something like this:  

The essence of friendship is not having all of the same answers,
but instead, it is about caring about all the same questions.*

Now, when he published these words, more than 60 years ago, he was addressing several important things about friendship.  

First, friendship is not predicated on ideas, it is based on affection.  

Second, he believed the conversation of friendship was not about an echo chamber of agreed-upon beliefs but the joy of discovery and interplay.

And third, while our answers (even our strong suspicions), tend to illumine where we differ from the political/cultural/religious other, the questions that underlie those answers, often provide profound common ground.

This concept of common ground seems to me to be so very important.  It is important even beyond providing a starting place for negotiation.

If both parties can identify the questions that underlie the debate… and if those parties can admit that those questions affect them… and if they can share the ways that they are sorrowful, pained, distrustful or yes, hopeful… then the conversation begins from the realm of the heart.  The debate could be over immigration policy, access to voting, or the existence of God and if both can share their feelings about the implications of the question, you might be surprised.  

That’s when friendship happens.

*C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves, Geoffrey Bles Publishing, 1960