Two Twenty Eight

"So, who are you?"

That was my friend Dan's go-to getting-to-know-you question. I suggested something less intimidating and more safe to ask a guest, something like, "What would your Twitter bio say?" It is a softer question, a more graceful angle of entry into someone's story. Dan kept asking people who they really are. He may have been onto something, even if people avoided his home for fear of answering that question.

If you looked up my Twitter bio, the first descriptor I use is "friend." I imagine many acquaintances describe me as friendly, perhaps even overly polite. But I'm less concerned with an adverb, the manner in which I act, and more what role I play in my relationships. Virtues matter in virtue of real human relationships, relationships that may culminate in an abiding friendship. Anecdotes alone cannot provide a compelling argument for you, but before I share my favorite premise for the supremacy of friendship, you'll have to forgive a few anecdotal stories for why I hold this position. Unlike metaphysical claims which may claim a priori premises, friendship in the abstract & universal cannot stand without friendship in the particular & concrete.

Over my college years, I only ever shared a room with two people. The first was Nik, a thoughtful, deep-feeling writer who preferred film scores to music with lyrics. The second was Stewart, a brash, silver-tongued story teller who could convert a kid from Colorado to loving college football. I use the past tense to describe them, not because this isn't still part of who they are, but because they are more now than they were then, such that these caricatures will only mislead you if you take them too seriously. Thankfully, I took both these guys seriously, and the three of us shared an apartment our senior year of college: Pineview 228.

What can I say about these two friends and that season of life without resorting to mere sentimentalism? Still, even sentiments approximate something near to the truth. We didn't watch episodes of Daredevil without each other, even if one of us always fell asleep while we watched. We called author Bob Goff because he put his number in the back of the book, and he answered. We baked cookies for our downstairs neighbors with kids after being a little too loud the evening before. Nik and I learned how to walk with our friend Stewart in the grief of losing his father. I learned how to trust my friends during a trying, painful Thanksgiving season with my family. We all learned how to forgive real hurts and let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another. The three of us stood together on our wedding days, and when Nik had his first child. Those three numbers, two twenty eight, elicit the years of vulnerability, failure, grace, and trust that formed my best friends together.

So, here is my favorite premise for the supremacy of friendship:

A familial relationship may only be deepened by friendship, but a friendship may not necessarily be deepened by becoming a family member.

The care & honor I owe to a family member is necessary in virtue of the relationship. The virtues of friendship are not necessary, but freely chosen for the sake of caring & honoring one another in mutual love. All of my deepest relationships, including my wife and siblings, did not grow because they became more of a wife or sister. They deepened as we shared interests, care, and honor beyond what was owed in virtue of our familial relationship. The natural ends of familial relationships may move upward-and-into those spiritual ends of truth, goodness, and beauty which all friendships participate in.

As I've argued elsewhere, the questions, "Who are you to me?" and "Who am I to you?" are important for every relationship. Perhaps my friend Dan's question, "Who are you?" may only be answered if you can respond, "I am your friend."