The Christian
denominations vary in their list of official sacraments. But restricting God’s
instruments of grace to any official list is misguided, writes Fr. Robert
Lauder in The Tablet of Brooklyn. He
directs his readers to Bernard Cooke (1922-2013), particularly his Sacraments and Sacramentality (Twenty
Third Publication, 1983).
The word “sacrament must be understood in a much
broader sense,” writes Cooke. Properly
understood, “the most basic sacrament of God’s saving presence to human life is
the sacrament of human love and friendship… Our experience of being truly
personal with and for one another is sacramental… The human friendships we
enjoy embody God’s love for us.” Some knowledge of and experience of the divine
is gained through personal relationships, Cooke continues.
Marriage is a
prime example. It is an intense relationship between two people with God in the
mix. Please understand, this does not mean that a couple is constantly aware of
God. Nor is a sacramental marriage coated in frosting. There is discord and
disappointment in the crucible of every marriage. Mutual revelation too. And
hilarity and quiet joy. And, of course, marriage is the sacramentality of sex.
A sacramental moment occurs as two friends
meet every Monday morning at the diner or as four women meet after work on
Friday for drinks. God is not explicitly mentioned. The conversations go here
and there from the superficial to deeply personal. But love is lurking within
every genuine friendship.
The sacrament of
friendship is easily lost in our culture in which relationships are
utilitarian. Companies and business managers too often think of employees only
as an item on the expense ledger. Employees have little loyalty to a jobsite, moving-on
with but a muffled goodbye. Our dominant culture likewise encourages
utilitarian marriages negotiated on a quid pro quo basis. “I did this for you,
so you should do this for me.” Or, “I disclosed my innermost feelings, so now
it is your turn to do the same.” Real friendship, by contrast, is a free gift
that expects nothing in return, though it is often richly rewarded.
Like all
sacraments, friendship is public. This necessary public dimension is seen in
marriage, symbolized by the honor extended to the guests at the wedding
reception. There is a public function to casual friendships among drinking
buddies, in accidental friendships among neighbors, and in the friendships
within extended families and more. All of these relationships build-up our
social fabric and pose a counter-narrative to individualism.
Plus, there is a
type of friendship that is primarily public, what Aristotle termed philia. Public friendship is different
from liking someone or sharing an interest in sports or a hobby. Its
sacramental component is a care for another person’s well-being and character.
Therefore, public friendship is concerned about the environment or institutions
that shape people. Ultimately, it cares about the public good. It is civic
affection, camaraderie, trust or civic happiness.
The opposite of
public friendship is, again, transactional utilitarianism. There are far too
many people afflicted by agnosia—the inability to recognize the human in the
person in front of them. They go about their business and miss the meaning
embedded in the day. Public friendship is the result of a culture of encounter.
There is no “art of the deal” associated with it.
At times the
issues of the day seem most important. Or the material to be covered in that
afternoon’s class. Or the arrangement of the decorations in the meeting hall.
Or the diagnosis of the problem with the faulty heater in late November. Yet, all
of these things come-and-go. What endures is friendship. Friendship is prior to
the issues, the charts, the tangle of wires under the desk, the staff shortage
for the evening shift, the stack of papers or the traffic congestion on the
expressway. Be open to the sacramental grace within friendship and all these
things will be given you besides.
Public Friendship
by Bill Droel is obtained from National Center for the Laity (PO Box 291102,
Chicago, IL 60629; $5).