The Friendship of God
God designed us for friendship. Note how he drops by in the evening to chat with his friends Adam and Eve about their day (Genesis 2:4ff). The visits continued until the serpent broke up this intimate friendship between God and his creation. Even after, God’s friendship visits is seen throughout the OT.
Adam and Eve kissed closeness, intimacy, and fearless love goodbye! Now distant and distrustful, they assume they lost his friendship. They hide behind fig leaves!
Notice our Friend’s approach.
What God didn’t say speaks volumes. He didn’t vent like an angry parent: “How could you do this after all I’ve done for you?” He didn’t add to the guilt and shame them: “Why this, when I gave you so much?” There’s nothing vindictive in his approach. As a friend, he comes asking: “Where are you?”
The question is haunting. So tender and loving. So helpful to them. God’s friendship is passionate. The fire of his longing friendship is inextinguishable. It’s the same question the cross—the one who hung on it—asks us and the world.
I picture God asking me the same today question today: “Where are you, friend of my Son?” What might God say? Reflecting on Genesis 3:8-10, I hear this:
Dear Georges, I’ve missed you lately. I know you feel ashamed about what you’ve done. No need to hide from me. You already feel bad; I won’t make you feel worse. Don’t you know you’re always on my mind? Let’s reconnect, be friends again. Hear my heart. Let me hear back from you. Come from wherever you’re hiding. No need to hide. Get closer so we can do this repentance together again.
What would God say to you today? What we think about God says a lot about us. He’s no angry parent nor drill sergeant. He’s not an indulging grandparent, or distant relation. He’s our friend!
Watch Jesus, the spitting image of his Father. He encounters tree-climber Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10), “Hey, after your work is done for the day, let’s celebrate at your house.” As a Jew collecting taxes for Rome and a bit more to line his own pockets, he might’ve had to dodge kids and adults spitting at him on his way home. He perhaps was the richest Jewish man in Jericho. Loneliest too.
Oh, the stories he’d heard about Jesus, this friend of sinners and yes tax collectors (Luke 15:1-2)! A fleeting thought, “could he be my friend,” played on loop in his mind. He was intrigued. And what a dramatic party it was. Zacchaeus declared he’d refund those he’d defrauded fourfold. And half of his possessions he’d donate to the poor (Luke 19:8).
Jesus’ transforming friendship packs a punch. Like Father, like Son! This tree-climber was finally in his right mind, reconciled and making amends. Dicken’s Scrooge could identify. Jesus’ friendship is the difference maker. Zacchaeus is no longer the corrupt government official, hated by those he wronged. He found the rare treasure of the kingdom, friendship with Christ, and bought into it.
I used to think God’s friendship was something I had to earn. Yes, he saved me by grace. But I must earn his friendship. Not so! He didn’t say to the tax collector, “Get your act together, man, and I’ll visit your home to eat with you” (an act of intimate friendship). He didn’t even tell Zacchaeus what he must do! Jesus’ unconditional acceptance and friendship changed Zacchaeus forever. When your pocketbook is transformed, you know it’s real, as Tim Keller would say!
Friendship with God in Christ… so freeing. So embracing. We must celebrate it. More!
This approach to the Adams and Eves, the Zacchaeusses of this world is the only right one. It’s divine. When we approach others this way, we partake of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). It’s the ultimate friendship. It’s ours because it’s God’s preferred approach.