A Little Yeast...

“...[M]ake every effort to add to…natural affection, love.” – 2 Peter 1.7,8

“Now that you have...sincere love for your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart.”— 1 Peter 1.22

Experience shows – and Scripture inadvertently affirms – that human relationships have different points of origin. There are those with whom you share a near instantaneous bond of affection; these you ‘love’ naturally, viscerally, without willful premeditation; and those whom you must choose to love by an act of your will, in the strength or, more likely, weakness, of your character.

For instance, you and Jane have been fast friends since the first day of middle school when you found yourselves, alone, in the same corner of the cafeteria, reading the same book.

Conversely, you've known Diana since the day she moved in next door, when she 'popped' over to introduce herself and then politely informed you that your flowerbeds needed watering. Whether consciously or not, Diana seems to be constantly making light of the thing – the very thing! – which is causing you greatest pain. And she has an uncanny knack for drawing out your weaknesses while disparaging those traits you have always taken for your strengths.

Nevertheless, Christ calls you to love both women. But how? In what way?

At a certain point - it is inevitable - your sin, and Jane's, will make a mutual show of itself. And when it does you must add agape, the love which, with its connotation of self-sacrifice, enables you to rise above your feelings, and do the thing that is in the best interests of the other person (John 3.16). Somewhat ironically, there may come a time when you realize your natural rapport has prevented you from learning how to really stimulate or provoke each other toward love and good deeds. You may realize that you are better at commiseration, and affirming each other’s prejudices, than telling each other the truth. When you do, you must take pains to alter your course; to 'add agape' and trust it to deepen your friendship in ways that simple affection cannot.

In contrast, Diana has never inspired your affection – from a natural point of view you feel little other than annoyance toward her, sometimes even profound animosity such as you would feel for an arch enemy. But Scripture anticipates this! Thus when Christ commands us to “love” our enemies He uses the word, agape, meaning that we can choose to rise above our petty emotions and show kindness where we might feel disdain, or generosity where we are want to be stingy. If we do, the seeds of Love will, at a certain point, bloom into natural affection.

Still, there is no disguising the fact that, with Diana, you must take the long way around: remembering birthdays; initiating phone conversations; taking pains to express those things you do appreciate and admire, even if they are often obscured by your differences.

As you do, slowly, you begin to see her in a different light – what you took for lack of sympathy was simply an inability, or reluctance, to express herself; what you experienced as cold-heartedness was merely pragmatism, a pragmatism that, in a later moment of personal crisis, manifested itself as practical, almost life-saving, care.

But it is not only your perception of Diana that has changed – you are changing too, the both of you.

Where she has gained compassion, you have grown in fortitude. Where she has gained the courage to be vulnerable; you are learning to stand by your convictions, without encouragement or praise. You don't notice these changes at first for character development is the kind of thing one only notices retrospectively. But the fact is, you have changed... both of you.

And something else has changed too.

Perhaps it is after a long summer away that you begin to realize - and Diana does, too: somehow, precisely how neither of you quite knows, but somehow you have become more than neighbors... you have become friends.

Nevertheless, from a practical standpoint, it remains difficult to find the motivation to pursue relationships which are 'hard.' Why should I call Diana when it is so much easier to pick up the phone and dial Jane? What is the point of exerting so much energy only to see an intolerable relationship transformed into a (still, perhaps) marginally satisfying one?

The reason is simple: although phileo is preferable - as the ice cream cone on a hot summer afternoon - only agape will remain (1 Cor. 13.13). It is that little bit of heaven which, if you are faithful to work it in to the relationship, promises to work its way through the whole dough (Matt. 13.33), transforming not only it, but you. You and Diana may never laugh at the same jokes; you may never read the same books; or plan a picnic just so that you can indulge in your mutual appreciation for reciting poetry under the cool trees - but you can rest assured that Christ will use your relationship to further your reliance upon Him, and so mold you into the person He created you to be.