The Wisdom of Friendship

Today's reading from the Book of Sirach reminds me of the speech that Polonius gives to his son, Laertes, in the first pages of Shakespeare's "Hamlet." It speaks of friendship and the care one must exercise in making friends. These words are obviously written from personal experience. I am sure that there are more than a few who have had the experience of a fair-weather friend and can testify to the "wisdom" of these remarks.

At the same time, they remind me of the opening conference that my novice master gave to us oh so many years ago (forty-six to be exact). He told us that he trusted us implicitly. Even though he didn't know any of us other than to call us by name, there he stood on the first day of our novitiate year, telling us that if we told him something, he would believe us without question. One of the novices, a somewhat older man than most of us who entered the Order when we were nineteen years old, raised his hand and basically called him a fool for being so trusting. I will never forget the novice master's response to his remark. "My trust in all of you may be foolish, but I want you to know that I will never doubt any of you until you prove that you cannot be trusted."

Obviously, he and Sirach would have butted heads on this topic, just as the novice master and older novice did that evening. However, I remember this exchange forty-six years after it happened. That fact alone tells me that I would rather be as open and trusting as the novice master rather than as skeptical as the older novice.

Friendship is, in fact, based on trust. While some think of trust as a tiny seed which has to germinate and flower and grow, I would rather think of it as a mighty oak which stands until it is chopped down by through some act which betrays that trust. Yes, the first option prevents us from getting hurt, and the second option will make us vulnerable to being hurt. While some may build up walls to protect themselves from the outset, I still believe that the unguarded position is a virtue in and of itself. I may (and have been) hurt by such an attitude, and such hurts leave scars that never disappear. Scars are, however, inevitable. The risen Jesus bears the scars himself, scars that were produced because he trusted Judas as well as the rest of the apostles.