Acts 24:22-23

William F. Schnell

November 15, 2009

In preparing for today’s message I came across several quotations, the most popular of which you have most surely heard: "A friend in need is a friend indeed." But there were also several humorous, if cynical, plays on that quotation such as: "A friend not in need is a friend indeed," or a similar sentiment expressed by one Lord Samuel: "A friend in need is a friend to be avoided." A common assumption in all of these quotations is that sometimes our friends are going to have needs that we are positioned to address in one way or another.

Whether or not we choose to help meet the needs of our friends determines whether we are true friends or simply "fair-weather friends." The latter would be so-called friends who are always around when times are good and there is something to be gained by an association with another, but who are strangely absent whenever friendship exacts a cost whether in terms of time, money, social standing, emotions and other resources we would rather not see drained.

These potential costs of friendship help to explain the title of our message for this morning: "The Risk of Friendship." The risk is that true friendship is occasionally going to cost us something. Today we are going to learn that it is a risk worth taking because whatever cost is required, it is a small price to pay for the benefits gained by being a true friend and having a true friend. After all, we all have needs from time-to-time and therefore we all have need for the kind of support that true friendship affords.

Today we are going to consider some secondary, or even tertiary, characters in our text—minor characters who nevertheless have a role to play in communicating God’s Word to us. For example, you will recall the "Parable of the Prodigal Son" who demands his inheritance from his father and then proceeds to squander it. Humiliated and repentant he returns to his forgiving father who kills a fatted calf and welcomes him home with a banquet , much to the chagrin of his more respectable and responsible brother.

Some preachers approach that text from the perspective of the prodigal son, others from the perspective of the chagrined son, still others from the perspective of the father. But imagine approaching it from the perspective of the fatted calf! Think about it. Jesus is the sacrifice our Father in heaven is willing to make to forgive the sins of his erring children. Sometimes the more profound meanings of a given text are found in the seemingly minor characters and details that God has written into his Word for our edification. I think that is certainly the case in our text for today where some unnamed friends are referenced almost as an aside.

But let us begin with the main character, Paul. He is the early church’s greatest ambassador, traveling far and wide and preaching about Jesus wherever he goes. Sometimes his message resonates with his hearers and a new body of believers is gathered before he moves on to the next place where the Spirit leads. Other times his radical message rankles the powers-that-be and he is persecuted for his faith by being beaten, stoned, whipped, run out of town or thrown in prison.

In our text Paul is just beginning what will be a two-year confinement in Caesarean prison, which was more or less dismal depending upon one’s friends. In those days before electronic lock-up technology, prisons pretty much provided a cell with roof over head, chains to keep one from escaping and water for drinking and personal hygiene. Basic necessities such as any food beyond stale bread and clothing beyond rags had to be provided by one’s family or friends, not to mention such luxuries as bedding, reading and writing materials and supportive social interaction.

So Governor Felix was being quite merciful when, as our text puts it, He ordered the centurion to keep Paul under guard but to give him some freedom and permit his friends to take care of his needs (Verse 23). And Paul was quite grateful to those who took care of his needs throughout his various imprisonments. Many times he mentions his friends by name with gratitude for their mercy. For example: May the Lord show mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, because he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains (II Timothy 1:16).

Others, however, proved to be fair-weather friends who were ashamed of his chains, afraid of guilt by association with him and unwilling to share his fate. In a letter from prison to Timothy he confides, At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me ( 4:16). Imagine taking a stand for what is true and right in the face of worldly opposition and then finding that your so-called friends who are supposed to have your back have all deserted you.

No wonder Paul is anxious for Timothy to visit him. Do your best to come to me quickly, he writes. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments (II Timothy 4:9 & 13). We are not told what these literary articles were, but we may be grateful that Paul was equipped to both study and write because it was while in prison, cloaked against the cold, that he composed many of the letters which have been preserved for us as Holy Scripture. And preserved with them are the names of those who, in the face of adversity, proved to be faithful friends to the Apostle: names like Onesiphorus, Timothy, Luke, Mark, Tychcius, and so many more.

And if we want our names to be written in the book of life, we will want to be proven faithful friends when adversity strikes and our friends are in need. Jesus described the Day of Judgment as when he will separate the sheep from the goats based upon how each responded to the needs of others within the sphere of their influence. As Jesus put it, …I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me (Matthew 25:35).

When Paul’s friends visited him in prison, they were visiting more than Paul. Again, as Jesus put it, I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me (Matthew 25:40). When we remain faithful to our friends in need, we are remaining faithful to the one who has brought us into relationship with one another. And, as George Washington suggests in the quote at the top of our bulletins, adversity is the test that separates the sheep from the goats—that separates true friendship from false.

I have seen life-long acquaintances dissolve when adversity strikes. A spouse dies and the surviving widow or widower is all of a sudden persona non grata among the old circle of so-called friends. This is more common than you would suspect from many who have better things to do than share a friend’s season of grief. And so they add the insult of loneliness to the injury of loss. Do they not know the power of a friend’s presence to bring healing and wholeness?

Or someone lands in the hospital and goes unvisited and forgotten because a so-called friend does not feel comfortable around hospitals. Who does? Who among us likes to hang out at hospitals. Can you imagine being invited to join someone for dinner at a hospital cafeteria before hanging out in a waiting room or strolling the hallways? Nobody likes to hang out in hospitals, including patients who are stuck in strange rooms wearing strange gowns while strange people poke and prod them. Do you know how welcomed a familiar face and touch can be in such a setting? Do you know how much comfort and hope a patient can get out of a brief visit from a friend?

But if adversity exposes the frauds, it also reveals the faithful among our friends. Dan Frenz and Jack Colebrook were two friends among our congregation. Both have since died, and Dan was the first to go after a lengthy illness. I remember when they removed his feeding tube at his request, for he was amazingly alert given his condition. From that point on it was only a matter of time. The family was called in, the pastors were alerted and friends were notified.

The word reached Jack while he was eating breakfast with his wife, Betts, at their winter home in Florida. Jack finished his breakfast, got in his car and drove to the airport. He purchased a ticket for Cleveland on the spot and got on the first plane out. Upon his arrival he rented a car and drove to Anna Maria to visit his friend, share some laughs, shed some tears and say their final goodbye until they’d meet again in a fairer land. Then Jack got in his rental, drove straight back to the airport and caught the next flight back to Florida.

I happened to stop by to see Dan just after Jack left. I said, "You mean he’s going back to Florida today? Heavens, he’s got a house here in town. If I came all that way I’d stick around for a couple days and see some folks." Dan said, "He came to see me. He’s my friend." And it occurred to me how good it was for me to arrive when I did, and not a moment before so as to dilute the purity of that singular gesture. Jack Colebrook came for one reason. He came for one person. He came for his friend. And for the rest of my visit with Dan, he was as alive and well as I had ever known him.

Now Jack and Dan went back a long way and had a long time to develop their friendship, but I want to tell you how you could become just as precious and highly valued a friend to someone else without ever having known them at all. Today has been established as National Donor Sabbath. Right now there are more than 100,000 Americans in dire need of an organ transplant. Every day 18 people will die awaiting an organ transplant.

One person saying yes to organ donation has the potential of saving up to 8 lives. One person saying yes to tissue and eye donation can enhance the lives of more than 50 individuals. There is a young boy baptized in this church named John Costarell who is alive today because of a heart transplant made possible by a dearly cherished friend he has never met. The woman who bought our home in Milwaukee was alive and well because of a heart transplant from someone who had been thoughtful enough to signify that willingness on a driver’s license.

I was inspired by that friend to make a similar designation on my driver’s license, and to inform my family of my wishes should I precede them in death. Jesus shed his blood for us. We can shed a little of our blood for others tomorrow by coming to the Red Cross Blood drive in our Fellowship Hall. Jesus also gave his body for us. I believe he would be pleased with our willingness to do the same for our neighbors in need. The Bible says from dust we come and to dust we shall return, regardless of how well the embalming arts seek to preserve our mortal frames. But if in death I could extend one gesture of friendship to another in need who would henceforth live in gratitude to God, that would be legacy enough for me.

You can signify your desire to be an organ and tissue donor the next time you renew your driver’s license. Or you can signify it earlier on a National Donor Registry by seeing me and I will give you a web site to access or a telephone number to call. You can also be clear about your desires with your loved ones. And again, you can give the gift of life by donating blood to the Red Cross during this season of heightened flu alerts which makes finding suitable donors so much more urgent.

Finally, you can assume the risks inherent in friendship. Friendship implies a mutual willingness to bear each others burdens when the need arises. For those of you who are doing that, we honor you this day. For those who are visiting us as guests we say, "Thank you for being a friend." As our guests, we expect no gifts from you when the offering plates are being passed. Indeed, we will have some gifts for you at a special reception in your honor following worship.

For now, let us rise as we sing about a friend we have in common. And "What a Friend We Have in Jesus."