There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother (Prov. 18.24).
The verse (or this part of it) assumes that brothers, too, stick close. As an only child, I’ve no practical experience to draw upon other than the fraternal adhesion that my sons have one to another – which is admirable and enviable. But there are other brothers, whom I know, who you’d have to involuntarily rivet to their siblings for them to be considered close. The ‘friend’ in this text is a rarity of rarities. (If you ever gain one, then, keep hold on them for dear life.) Their bond isn’t predicated upon the obligations of kinship. ‘Sticky friends’ make a disinterested commitment; they’re in the relationship for you, principally, and for the long haul.
There’s a very telling verse about a remarkable friendship shared between Jonathan (the eldest son of King Saul) and David (the former shepherd, psalmist, and, later, king): ‘The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul’ (1 Sam. 18.1). Your soul is your greatest and most invaluable asset. ‘What can anyone give in exchange for their soul?’ (Mark 8.37). Not even the whole world would be a fair trade (Mark 8.36).
‘Sticky-love’ goes deeper than deep. It’s as profound as it’s inexplicable. When Jonathan died, David paid homage to that friendship: ‘Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women’ (2 Sam. 1.26). The relationship couldn’t last forever in this life. But while it did, that bond was extraordinary, enabling, and enhancing, for both of them. So much so, that the man who’d said ‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want’ experienced an intensity of distress proportionate to that love (Ps. 23.1). The loss of a great friend is a grief beyond discussion.
7.00 am. Awoke. 7.30 am: What I’d thought were chocolate cornflakes (because they were next to the Coco Pops dispenser) turned out to be Bran Flakes. (Sigh!) The day could only get better. I returned to my room – visibly shocked:
8.00 am: I packed and reviewed my travel plans for the day. 9.30 pm: Goodbye hotel! I wanted to spend more time at the cathedral before beginning my circuitous journey home.
9.45 am: A communion.
The cathedral was full of parents and toddlers, sat on the floor, playing together, and making fun-filled noises. Two men talked earnestly together in a secluded pew. Another, dozed. They were like figures from a Pieter Saenredam church interior. Before I left, I lit a candle and prayed for a remote friend: ‘that they might grow in faith, knowledge, wisdom, grace, and fruitfulness, and so become an extraordinary light in the world’:
11.11 am: After a reflective hot drink at the station café, I departed – once again leaving behind someone (notionally), and wondering whether I’d have cause to return. I’d much to consider, resolutions to put into practice, pages to turn, commitments to underscore, and realities to square. A great and definable challenge lay ahead. Last night, the Peak District and West Yorkshire had received further snowfall:
12.10 pm: I met my younger son at Manchester Piccadilly station, and headed off for Chinatown to take lunch:
For the next three hours we talked non-stop about university, the impact of the on-going strike, retirement plans, private tuition, careers, musical gear (at Dawsons), church growth, developing an audience for one’s music, vinyl records, and new architecture (in the city’s Northern Quarter). A visit to the children’s zone of Manchester City Art Gallery. He’s a little too big for the place, these days:
3.00 pm: We parted company.
3.07 pm: I took the train back to Stockport and, from there, another (over-full one) towards Shrewsbury. 4.47 pm: Arrived, and stepped into the watering-hole seeking space as much as sustenance.
5.29 pm: The Aberystwyth leg. A chasm lies between making determinations and actually altering one’s tangible circumstances. (It’s the same tension as exists between idealism and realism.) Change must begin with ourselves and work outwards. Change must be necessary and possible. Change must be gradual and incremental. Change must be responsible, and take account of the needs of others. Change must be responsive and adaptable. Change must bring about betterment.
7.20 pm: Home! 8.00 pm: A late-evening round-up and unpacking.
