Brotherhood and Friendship: A Hybrid Way to Live

This week, national attention has turned to a tiny island off the coast of Mississippi. Four young men—black and white, just north of teen age years, who many called unmistakable friends, launched out on a Fourth of July fling to that island for some last chance at fun before the rigors of college prep was due. Only three of the boys returned alive. One was found dead. A dark fog of controversary shrouds this tragedy, and raises many unanswered questions, foremost, in my mind: Was their friendship a brotherhood?

In the shadow of that looming question, I am reposting “Brotherhood and Friendship: A Hybrid Way to Live, to cause us to earnestly reflect on the profound, spiritual synergy when brotherhood and friendship embody each other. Not all friendships are created equal. Not all brotherhoods are the same. A hybrid way is the better ark to sail.

This week (two years ago), I had to say goodbye to a friend, and I gained a new one. Rev. Jim was my brother. Jim was also my friend.  I am in bible country to put the two together and say Jim was my brother-friend—a hybrid relationship— something diverse, yet complementary, a composite. The Proverbist says:

 “A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24

We know that brother-friend to be Christ. Jim was a disciple of that Christ who shares, cares, and serves.

Jim shared his pulpit with me. I preached a week-long Lenten series from the rural East Texas church where he pastored. It was one of the best experiences of my preaching ministry.  Pulpits are still one of the most segregated places in America, but not Jim’s place. He believed I had something to say from God that would bless his congregation and city.  Jim was my brother-friend because he shared.

Jim was my brother-friend because he also cared to integrate me into his family. When his beloved daughter and only child—the bloom of his garden—graduated from college, he invited—no—insisted that I be there. So, I was blessed to drive three hours to watch her walk and to hear Jim give the graduation prayer. And when she found the love of her life, she asked—no—insisted I officiate their wedding. She was the most beautiful bride you’ve ever seen. And when her first baby girl came along, I look forward to getting a Christmas card every year featuring Jim’s growing, adorable family.  A real brother-friend doesn’t isolate his family from his friends, stiff-arming how close you can get to his precious inner circle.  Jim was my brother-friend because he cared enough to invite me in.

Finally, Jim was my brother-friend because we served together. You can learn about how a person values you when you work shoulder-to-shoulder with them. Do they value what you bring to the table, especially toiling in the pit of Christian ministry doing the sweaty, dirty, unpaid work of a servant. Jim and I worked on a committee qualifying ministers for licensing. Jim was always the first to ask the minister on the hot seat, “Are you taking care of yourself?” He cared about pastoral care. And Jim organized a ministry workshop and invited—no—insisted I be a facilitator. He believed I could bless other pastors’ growth from my experience as an unconventional pastor of a nursing home church that meets under an awning where the smokers gather and dare to call it church. Brother-friends value each other’s contribution. Jim valued my service.

Let me be clear, being brothers doesn’t just mean blood twins; being friends doesn’t mean same. Brothers don’t have to look alike, come from the same place or have the same path. Jim and I could not have come from more different places. He was a cowboy from a small country town. I was a fashion model from a cosmopolitan city. We discovered when we first met that, in fact, our paths may have crossed on the runway years before when I worked for a fashion agent, and Jim was an exhibitor at the apparel market. I may have worn his boots. Who would have “thunk” it.

Being friends also doesn’t mean you have to think the same way. Politically, I might be described as blue. Jim, not so much. That never mattered.

What mattered is what matters where Jim is now, on the other side of eternity: sharing, caring, and serving before Christ—the Friend who sticks closer than a brother. I will miss my brother-friend. As I wear one of Jim’s preaching stoles his family gifted me at his homegoing service, I will be reminded every time I wear it that I have a brother-friend forever.  

This week God has shown himself to be a brother-friend who not only takes away but also gives. He blessed me with a new friend—let’s call him Manuel. At the end of Ms. “W’s” 2^nd grade class where I was a sub, Manuel stealthily crept up to my desk.  “Yes sir, how can I help you?”  He placed his clinched fist on my desk and dropped from heaven a billion dollars disguised as a balled-up dollar bill. “What is this?” With a small voice and gleeful eyes, he replied, “You are the best teacher ever.” I thanked him and said, “This is not necessary, son, but thank you anyway. “You did a good job today.” He skipped back to his seat. Today, we had fun learning how to read a clock, and how eggs become chicks. Somewhere in between, we became friends—no—I believe brother-friends, forever. We valued our day together.  

Don’t just be a blood brother or an arms-length friend. Live a hybrid life, put things together in different, meaningful ways, and enrich yourself all the  more. Be a brother-friend.

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Read a moving story about brotherhood-friendship. Get a copy of A Forgiving Fire at afovigingfire.com. Audiobook coming soon.