Fr Timothy Radcliffe is reflecting on how different friendships help us to discover different gifts – and failings – in ourselves, and to grow in friendship. We don’t have to be friends only with good people, or plus (people like us).
When I was a student in France in the late Sixties, the cry was “il faut être cohérent”. One must be coherent. No. We are fragmented people, work in progress. Coherence lies ahead, in the Kingdom. Then the wolf and the lamb in each of us shall be at peace with each other. St John says: “It does not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when he [Christ] appears, we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).
If we have closed, fixed identities written in stone now, we shall never be open to the adventure of new friendships who will unfold new dimensions of who we are. I suppose that I have learnt not to worry about not fully knowing who I am.
Jesus scandalised the world with impossible friendships. He ate and drank with prostitutes and tax collectors. I guess he enjoyed their company. Jesus reached out in friendships which overthrew all the boundaries: friendships which should not have been. At the Last Supper, he said “I call you friends” precisely to the disciples who he knew would mostly betray, deny and desert him. In the end, he was murdered for his impossible scandalous friendships.
Timothy Radcliffe in The Tablet, 4.2.23
I would not have you believe that these people here are impossible but we are all friends, all very different, but we all like cake, proper pilgrims’ fare! And we managed to keep in touch through the pandemic lockdowns, to return now to our regular gatherings.
Let’s pray that all who felt isolated during the restrictions will courageously pick up their previous friendships, and that they will be comforted in mourning loved ones who have died, especially when few people were allowed to attend funerals. May we all meet merrily in heaven.