CHAPTER 7
The Great Friend
Should We—Dare We, Even—Call Him Friend?
The idea of friendship with Jesus may sit uneasily with you. It sounds to some people like Christianity-lite—frothy, sentimental, maybe even irreverent. If you dismiss the notion of friendship with Jesus because you think it means superficial chumminess, I understand. But that’s not what Jesus means. When he calls us friends, he means true friendship—the kind that we’ve been thinking about in this book.
But even if we acknowledge that real friendship isn’t sentimental, friendship with Jesus may still seem unfitting to you. If Jesus is holy—the divine King who calms storms with a word, who upholds the universe by the word of his power, who receives glory and honor and praise—then doesn’t it demean him to treat him as a friend? Does this not make Jesus seem less glorious, less lordly?
Just the opposite is true: friendship with Jesus is pure grace, and grace is the apex of his glory.
When we see Jesus as the Holy One, radiant in splendor, we behold glory. But when this same exalted King offers himself to us in friendship, we don’t see less glory; we see more. Because we behold not just regal power but riches of grace (Ephesians 1:7).
Christ’s glory shone in the humility of his incarnation and his cross, where he became one of us and died for us. And he died not just to pardon us as enemies—allowing us into his kingdom, but nudging us into the corner—but to welcome us as dear friends.
This sounds even more surprising when we consider just how holy he is and just how sinful we are. The Pharisees watched with narrowed eyes as Jesus sought out even the worst of sinners for friendship. They didn’t think that sharing meals with sinners befit a holy messiah.
So, when they called him a friend of sinners, they meant it as an insult (Luke 7:34). They didn’t know that this actually demonstrated his true greatness. I wonder if any name gave him more pleasure, “for it expressed with perfect accuracy the true end and aim of His life.” According to the Pharisees, befriending sinners was a great expression of evil. According to Jesus, it was the highest expression of love.
Yet you still may wonder: How can we enjoy Jesus as our Friend if we’re also called to obey him as our King? Some people view these two roles as incompatible. But kingship and companionship don’t conflict.
When Jesus calls us his friends, he still requires us to obey him: “You are my friends if you do what I command you,” he said (John 15:14 ESV). Why does he tell his friends to obey him? Because even though he calls us friends, he remains the King. He is not a king or a companion; he is both. He tells us to obey him; we never tell him to obey us.
When we see Jesus as both of these at the same time—not awkwardly alternating between them at different moments but trusting Jesus as both exalted King and intimate Friend—it kindles worship in our hearts. If we only consider Jesus as one of these, it’s like trying to keep the fire of our hearts lit with only one isolated log.
But when we bring both of these together, placing one flaming log on another, the fire burns hotter and brighter. Charles Spurgeon brings them together, and you can sense the light and heat it produced in his soul:
It is a mark of wonderful condescension on His part that He should call us His friends and it confers upon us the highest conceivable honor that such a Lord as He is, so infinitely superior to us, should condescend to enter into terms of friendship with us. . . . That I should be Your friend—nothing but Your loving, condescending tenderness could ever have conceived of this!
This is what happens when we draw near to the real Jesus, who is both our worthy Lord and beloved Friend.
The Friend of Sinners
No one is born into fellowship with Jesus. We have all acted like faithless—worse than faithless, treacherous—friends. James says, “Whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (James 4:4 ESV). We each lean away from, not toward, God’s friendship.
Yet the Father sent his Son to welcome sinners. He sent him not to condemn but to befriend anyone who will have him (John 3:17). And when we open ourselves up to him with trust, he ties us to himself in an irrevocable bond, a covenant of friendship.
What does this mean? Jesus is the truest, the best, the ultimate Friend. Here are five glimpses of the surpassing greatness of the greatest Friend.
He Loves Us with the Deepest Affection
Jesus befriends us with affection. He makes us his friends, and he has no reservations whatsoever. And he never will. If you are his friend, then he has set his heart on you, and it will never be moved. He loves you with an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3). He loves you with all his heart, and he always will.
That Jesus is our Friend means that he doesn’t just love us but that he’s glad to love us. We do not enter into a mere contract or partnership or a vaguely defined relationship with him. We enter into real friendship, with all of the affection and enjoyment that comes with it. Friends enjoy each other. They like each other.
They also miss and long to see each other. Think about the future return of Christ. Do you look forward to seeing him? Not as much as he looks forward to seeing you. He left to prepare a place for us, and he asked his Father that we would live with him forever (John 14:3; 17:24; 2 Timothy 4:18). He sits on the edge of his throne, so to speak, waiting for the Father’s word. And when he returns, he will judge the world.
Does that frighten you? Consider this: If he is your Friend now, then he will not cease to be your Friend in that great moment of judgment. He will gladly count all your sins as forgiven, and he will even find things to affirm and commend in you (Matthew 25:21; 1 Corinthians 4:5; 1 Peter 1:7).
One of the most pressing questions of our lives, often buried deep in the subconscious, is this: What does God think of me? In all my failings, in all my weakness—how does he feel about me? If you trust Christ, you can answer that question: He loves you as his dear friend.
But what about when we’ve sinned against him? What then? Yes, he is rightly disappointed. But how does someone feel when a son or daughter or dear friend makes a sinful mess of their life? Grieved, yes. But also stirred with compassion. A true friend draws near in times of need, even when the suffering is self-inflicted.
God says to his rebellious people in Isaiah 43:4, “You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you” (ESV). Though we have forfeited any claim to his esteem, he gives it to us anyway. And he’s happy to do it. He loves us from his deepest heart.