This post grows out of my
previous post on Catholic Friendship, and refers frequently to comments made by others on my post. Actually, it started as a comment, but grew out of control and asserted its need to have its own space. Also, I posted something about my son's school library experience, and didn't want that one to overshadow the friendship discussion, which I have been enjoying!
One thing that has occurred to me is that I posed this in terms of Catholicism in particular. This is because there is so much in scripture and hence, in the homilies, about interpersonal relations. But these references are generally not referring to friendships. Usually, the relations between people that are mentioned are between people who do not know each other. There is also the idea that all earthly relationships should be second to the relationship with God, stated most explicitly in the "leave your family and follow me" passage(s), which I have never heard explained adequately--that is, explained in a way that helped me to actually understand it--in a way that gave me that "aha!" moment. There is a separate theology and discourse of marriage within Catholicism, which lead me to the question of a Catholic theology of friendship.
Separately, I had been thinking about
one of Kate's earlier posts, as I explained in my earlier post on friendship, which specifically mentioned forming friendships with Catholic couples specifically, and thinking of the Catholic friends I have or have had, which led also to the formation of this question in terms of Catholicism. I wasn't necessarily thinking only of the good of Catholics seeking friendships with other Catholics, however; I was also thinking of the difficulties.
Entropy mentions that even though her husband is not Catholic, they share most if not all (not wanting to misrepresent her characterization!) of their deeply held beliefs about religion. By contrast, it is possible for two Catholics not to share any of their deeply help beliefs--or at any rate, not to be able to express them in a way that promotes mutual understanding. There might be such animosity over certain questions of faith, or such defensiveness, that even when the two agree it feels like disagreement. And yet, the friendship persists, where maybe it shouldn't.
Entropy mentioned how great it was to know so many Catholic bloggers, because it is nice to know that there are people with the same worldview and background. That has been wonderful for me, too! And that feeling, I think, is what we seek when we seek other Catholics (virtually or in "real life") as friends--that commonality of deeply help belief that
Mrs. Darwin,
Melanie, Kate, and
Sarahndipity have all mentioned. I have never really know that before, being a convert whose friends were mostly not Catholic, and whose Catholic friends ranged anywhere from laissez-faire, to Sunday-only, to cafeteria, to sincerely struggling, to complete acceptance without struggling. . . and the descriptions could go on. It's surprising how many Catholics one gets to know even by accident! ;) The great thing, too, is when those virtual friendships come to feel more real than virtual, when those little off-blog exchanges happen, when we actually get to meet each other in person. It's another new experience for me, and I feel like I'm waxing poetic about it. I must be in a good mood. (The library email was somewhat cathartic, and I've been happy since my class last night, which reminded me that I actually
do like teaching! I've also been strangely productive lately, probably because I've been blogging less. :( Oh well!) But I have been self-conscious about my post because it seemed to limit the nature of the friendships I was talking about to specifically Catholic, or specifically religious-based friendships. (My post--not the comments!!) I wanted to think about friendship from the perspective of myself as a Catholic first, then (possibly) in terms of Catholics being friends with other Catholics and whether it creates more tensions or more sympathies, but inevitably in terms of friendships more generally.
So I asked a non-blogging but heavy-emailing deacon friend of mine a shorter version of the question I posed initially--whether there is a Catholic theology of friendship. While he had not heard of such a thing, he suggested that the underlying principles should be prayer and forgiveness. The forgiveness part certainly makes sense, though I'm not sure I understand the prayer part. He answered in brief and promised to think more about it, so perhaps I will eventually get him to explain the prayer. Forgiveness is so fundamentally Christian--having particular emphasis in Catholicism, in my opinion--that it is certainly a good basic principle to employ in friendship. However, forgiveness implies that something has already gone wrong. It is also difficult to anticipate how forgiveness will best be achieved or expressed if, indeed, it becomes necessary during the course of the friendship. I found myself, after converting, revisiting in my mind friendships that had ended badly with people from whom I was long estranged, asking myself if I had forgiven them, asking for the grace to forgive them, in some cases, asking for the grace to be able to stop reliving the circumstances of the friendship or breakup of the friendship or whatever. I believe that I had already forgiven some simply because of the distance of time, but that seems too easy; I had not made the conscious effort to acknowledge the forgiveness. But those were not relationships that could be resurrected. It is possible that even if they could have been resurrected, the friendship would not have been worth saving. Or equally possible that, had they continued, the friendship itself would not have allowed for forgiveness in the same way that distance has. I alluded in a comment to my post that some friendships could be "dysfunctional." Even if we consider ourselves friends, behave like friends, care like friends, even care
passionately--are there friendships that simply should not continue? Luckily, friendships are not Sacraments, as I've said before, and do not require annulment--we don't have to declare that the friendship was fundamentally flawed from the beginning. . . or is that really what I'm suggesting?
My friend also suggested that if a friendship in some way interferes with one's relationship with God or if it becomes an occasion of sin, one should consider moving on. . . That is an interesting concept. Friendships can be occasions of sin in large ways, I would imagine, inspiring lust, leading one to commit crimes, indulge in excesses; but what about friendships that inspire envy or anger? Of course, these could be looked at as opportunities for improvement. Basically, in the case of a bad friendship, these things can get very, very complicated.
I confess that I have experienced many more bad friendships than good ones. The intense ones tended to be the ones that ended badly--with a need to completely remove oneself from the person. The lukewarm ones simply faded away. There have been some good friendships along the way, people who, should we chance to meet again, would be happy to see me, and with whom I could spend a lot of time "catching up" before fading away again. People with whom I shared some commonalities, though not the deepest, and with whom I probably share very little at this point.
When I think of those deep-but-failed friendships, I can liken them to passionately flawed dating relationships or teenage obsessions. The world revolved around those relationships, but when they were over and sufficient time had passed, I/we/you realized that they were started for the wrong reasons, were woefully lopsided, and doomed to failure, or, if not, to utter misery. There was enough "there" to form a strong attraction, but there was also some great incompatibility.
The idea that Sarahndipity mentions about people with children assuming that other people with children will have commonalities is an interesting case. It is similar (though perhaps only similar on a surface-level) to the "Catholic friend" question, though only in that it is
one shared commonality among many possibly commonalities. Also, while one assumes a greater common background among Catholics than among parents of children, both have many possible variations.
Having said this, it is also a new experience for me to have friends who have children. Until recently, I just didn't know many people with children. Being in grad school and having children creates a bond of sorts. In fact, just the experience of giving birth gives women something to talk about who might not be able to stay in the same room with one another otherwise. These are starting points for friendships, but don't necessarily spell success, I guess. It is something I have enjoyed lately, though--the company of other smart moms!!
What
is success in friendship, by the way? I've suggested my marriage as a successful friendship, but surely friendship does not need to be held to such a strict standard! Something more to ponder, I guess. . .
Reading Kate's recent
blog entry on friendships, which she writes in part a reaction to my original post, I was struck by many things. Thanks, Kate, for such a great post on the topic! When Kate quotes Cicero, I feel as she said she would have felt in high school. Cicero writes:
"Friendship may be defined as a complete identity of feeling about all things in heaven and earth: an identity which is strengthened by mutual goodwill and affection."And, well, I have not yet met anyone (to whom I am not married) about whom I can say these things. I felt, upon first reading this, that it was an impossible standard. My friendships have been mostly the type that involve stimulating conversation and interest in some aspect of the other person's life--and not much more. I found the following observation of Kate's rather profound:
I discovered that my friendships had bottoms, walls. Stopping points. Places beyond which we did not go. The freedom I had found in friendship – the freedom to enjoy each other, to be unafraid of rejection, to grow alongside one another – the freedom had limits.
And her discussion of her own experiences with friendships is touching and insightful.
At the end of the film
The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, the main character says to her daughter that she was simply not meant to have a passionate, loving romantic relationship, and that, really, she hasn't missed it. I wonder if having a passionate, loving marriage is compensation for the lack of other types of friendships? (Or something better than compensation, since it is a deeper bond--indeed, a Sacrament!)
Different personality types have different needs where personal relationships are concerned. Some do need more than one close friend. I'm not sure that any friendship could be as deep or fulfilling as the one I have. And I'm not sure it matters. I like having friends to talk to and who offer different perspectives on the world. I like giving things that others need. But I may go too far--giving too much and being hurt if the other is not "there" for me in a similar way, when not everyone shares the same capacity for emotional support. And we can't expect reciprocity if there is no capacity for reciprocity in the other person. But what about the giving? It seems Christian to give, and yet giving until we hurt without mutual understanding, with different ideas of respect and admiration, with what is essentially self-sacrifice. . . Is that appropriate, even for a Christian friendship? I suppose that may in fact lead both away from God rather than toward.
I've wondered what it says about me as a person that I have not had many close friendships or (any?) lasting friendships. I admit that I am not a particularly trusting person, so that is likely one fault I bring to the formation of friendships. But if, as Kate suggests, ideal friendships are bound by a desire to see one another in heaven (which should probably be the foundation for that "missing" Catholic theology of friendship!!), this has not entered into any of my friendships. It is simply not a habit of thinking that I have had toward
anyone until recently, and that I have had it at all was a gift of grace taught to me through my family, and one of my strongest pulls to Catholicism. So if the ultimate friendship is a Christian friendship in more than just the sense that both parties happen to be Christian (or Catholic), I'm simply not there yet. Considering that, as someone said, it is harder to make (close?) friends when one is married (and perhaps even harder when one has children), maybe I won't have that kind of friendship at all. There are lots of nice people I wouldn't mind seeing in heaven, I'm just not sure our paths to holiness intersect! ;)
I'm afraid I have rambled more than is usually advisable in a blog post, but I'm hoping that there are enough tidbits here to initiate some more comments, for which I have been grateful!
