“Friends are the family you choose.” Jess C. Scott
Barry, my husband’s longtime baseball buddy, once told him that if you have five close friends when you die, you are lucky. I thought that sad, but the older I get, I realize the blessing—and rarity–that close friends really are. This morning I was examining the friendship between David and King Saul’s son, Jonathan. The chapters in 1 Samuel I find tragic, largely because of Saul’s schizophrenic behavior. One day the king hums along as David accompanies him on the harp, and the next day he throws a javelin at the musician’s head. Into that royal family, Jonathan was born. (I hope you can’t relate.) Scripture says that Jonathan, the King apparent and himself a courageous warrior, was caught in the middle. On days when Saul was in a “Today I’m going to murder David” mood, Jonathan defended Goliath’s slayer, convincing his father to honor David’s bravery and deliverance of Israel from the hands of the Philistines. Sometimes Saul listened; sometimes, not. Jonathan, recognizing his father’s cruel, unforgiving nature as well as God’s desire for David to one day rule as Israel’s king, made a covenant with David, forgoing his own right to step into the king’s role to which he was entitled by giving David his robe, armor, sword, bow and belt. He easily could have despised David for taking his (Jonathan’s) rightful position. Instead, according to Chapter 18 v. 3, Jonathan loved David “as his own soul.” Their bond of friendship was to last forever. Am I that kind of friend? I mean, I care deeply for my friends, but if I’m in line to be King (or in my case, Queen), I question if I would act so unselfishly. Especially when it means I betray my parent (although that’s probably not so difficult since Saul even tried to murder Jonathan). Especially when it means I put my life in danger. Especially when it means my friendship is pretty one-sided. Especially when it means I will become a casualty instead of wearing the crown. It’s a kind of friendship concerned only with what I give and not what I get. Professor of psychology Robin Dunbar’s research survey concluded that the average number of Facebook friends possessed by most people is around 150. Out of those, 28 might be recognized as low-level “friends.” But when participants were asked how many of those friends would help out in a time of need, emotional distress, or other crisis, the average answer was four. Maybe my husband’s friend was right. Scripture tells us that Jonathan was married and had children and that both he and his father were killed in battle. When news of their death came, the nurse of Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth dropped the young lad when fleeing their home, causing him to be lame. This, years later, gave David an opportunity to repay Jonathan for saving his life multiple times as he offered to help “someone” in his former friend’s family. Mephibosheth was suggested, so David had the boy brought to him. From then on, Jonathan’s son was treated like one of David’s children. It’s a sweet ending to a friendship—and a rarity of Old Testament happy news– that appeared so one-sided for so many years, a payback for Jonathan who loved David unconditionally. It’s the kind of friend I hope to be. A forever friendship…forever.