Let’s Just Be Friends

Genesis 21: 8-21
Matthew 10: 24-39

June 19, 2005

The photo appeared in a high school yearbook. It shows a young couple in formal attire dancing a slow dance. The boy’s back is to the camera. The cute blond girl looks over his shoulder with a wistful, dreamy expression. Was she in love? Was this the beginning of a beautiful romance? Would the couple live happily ever after? The caption reads, “Dreaming of being . . . somewhere else.”

The yearbook editor was cruel, but he was right. At the end of the dance the cute blond girl would say to her date, four little words: “Let’s just be friends.” Four words that were like daggers in his heart. Four words that adolescent boys hate more than any other four words in the English language: “Let’s just be friends.” I know that’s what she said because I was the boy whose shoulder she was looking over.

As rejection goes it’s polite, even sensitive considering the alternatives. Still, being on the receiving end leaves a 16-year-old boy feeling about as sophisticated, sexy, and dashing as Barney the Dinosaur. The great irony is that once those words are spoken in a relationship, it becomes impossible to “just be friends.” Most of us have enough fears and self-doubts that we don’t need friends who remind us we’re not quite good enough for them.

At a certain age, for most of us the greatest fear was romantic rejection. Looking back I realize it was that fear that led me to be awkward, clumsy, stiff, and painfully shy in social situations, thus ensuring I’d experience the rejection I feared.

Time goes by. As adults our fears may still include romantic rejection, but there are others. Jesus addressed the fears of his disciples in today’s reading from Matthew. He knew his followers would have to face division and persecution that would be terrifying. They would be hated, tried, beaten, betrayed by loved ones, and even executed. Jesus warns them about what lies ahead. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

While it’s unlikely we’ll face persecution as a direct result of living our faith, we are still acquainted with the fear. What do we fear? Are we afraid our families are disintegrating and we’re helpless to stop it?

Are we afraid of losing our jobs, being “downsized”, or outliving our retirement savings?
Are we afraid of not being good enough parents, of letting our children down?
Are we afraid of another terrorist attack or rush hour traffic on the Beltway?
Are we afraid of sickness, of Alzheimers or cancer or AIDS?
Are we afraid of death, our own or that of someone we love?

At the root of all these fears is the fear of loss. Every fear is grounded in the knowledge that we have something or someone to lose. I can lose my job, family, house, my money to identity theft, my friends, freedom, and health – life itself. It’s all at stake. It is all, to one degree or another, at risk. Rejection, losing our place in the web of human relationships, without which we are as good as dead, is one more loss we fear.

Jesus did not assure his followers they had nothing to fear. God’s eye may be on the sparrow, but sparrows do fall to the ground. The hairs on our heads may be numbered, but they still fall out. Jesus is blunt in warning his followers life will be tough, even tougher because they and we follow him. We will experience rejection. We may experience the rupture of some of our most treasured relationships. In following him we may even be called to put our lives on the line as he did and lose them as he did.

Yet in this same passage Jesus says, “. . . have no fear . . .”, “. . . do not fear . . .”, and “Fear not . . .” Jesus dredges up our worst nightmares. “For I have come to set a man against his father . . .” Jesus might come between me and my sons! This is a great Father’s Day message! What is he up to?

Dr. Dennis Gersten treats patients in the grip of overwhelming fear.
He writes:

“Cancer and AIDS are diagnoses that trigger enormous fear. With cancer the initial diagnosis triggers over-whelming fear. But even after someone has been treated and the cancer is gone, a deep fear of recurrence is often present. So in the case of overwhelming fear, I often ask people to simply observe the fear without trying to push it away. Let your mind explore the fear. Where is the fear in your body? What are the fearful thoughts and images? Just observe . . . allowing the fear to arise, change and dissolve. Let the fear float. Let it break free from the clutches of your mind. Let yourself be fully immersed in the fear. And the results are powerful. Sometimes the fear seems to float outside of people’s bodies . . . or it gradually disperses. But the experience of embracing the fear, immersing oneself in the fear, allows for transformation of the fear. Even the fear of death is alleviated by using this approach. Whether someone is suffering from intense pain, fear or any other overwhelming feeling or symptom, embracing the pain is a powerful tool. . .”

Perhaps Jesus is using a similar approach, inviting us to face our fears, to name them, to release them and allow our fears to wash over and out of us. Simply putting a name to a fear reduces its power over us.

But Jesus adds another dimension. Jesus warns his followers they will suffer rejection like him because they are like him. That is both powerful praise and a high calling. Today’s gospel reminds us that from the perspective of Christ, there is life beyond paralyzing fear of rejection and loss. In the grand scheme of things there are more important matters. Christ offers us the perspective of God’s kingdom. From that perspective being faithful to Christ, being like Jesus wherever we are in life is much more important than the fear of rejection and loss, the fears that

keep us from saying what needs to be said;
keep us from going where we need to go;
keep us from doing what needs to be done;
keep us from being who we need to be.

Imagine what the world would be like if people could be freed from fear to live more like Jesus with an abundance of care, compassion, and love. Those of you who were here two Sundays ago don’t have to imagine. You can remember what happened when a towering stranger appeared at the church acting in a bizarre manner, possibly suffering from a mental illness. You remember how people in the congregation stationed themselves to protect others in case the stranger became violent. You remember how men and women welcomed the stranger, comforted him, treated him with dignity and respect, and acted out the compassion of Jesus. In very real ways this Body of Christ was like Jesus to that stranger. We can’t avoid real dangers, real losses in life. We can become like Christ.

Jesus never promised a life of comfort and ease. We are understandably afraid of illness, violence, loneliness, and want. Jesus invites us to face what we fear and pass through it.

The good news is that, in our fear of rejection, Jesus says the very words a 16-year-old boy dreads: “Let’s be friends.” From Jesus these are words of affirmation and promise. We need not be oppressed by our fears. In Christ is the ultimate victory. However great our fears may seem today, if we remain faithful to Christ they will fade, like memories of adolescent heartbreak, and we will live in Eternity’s sunrise.

Amen.
Daniel Hamlin
Greenbelt Community Church

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