How many friends do you really have?

I think a lot of men, women too honestly, often feel like this poor, lonely tree.  Not many of us would say we have truly close friends. 

Some guy in our church recently expected me to be his close friend, although he never made that clear to me.  Frankly, we are not that close, although I am quite friendly with this person. 

Years ago as a young wannabe big-dog campus minister, an area pastor took me aside and told me his philosophy on friendship with church members. 

"I have not had dinner in the home of any of my church members in the last five years," he said.  Now that was shocking to a new pastor.  I thought this kind of thing happened all the time.

"How in the world can you not have dinner in the homes of church members?" I thought.  "Four crying out loud, you’re the pastor."

With years of ministry under my belt, I actually see that he’s partly right. 

In the ministry most pastors help lots of people and take their responsibilities seriously.  I think most pastors are loyal to their flock, too.  But is that loyalty the kind of loyalty one would show to his own family, or to his dearest long-time friends?  Probably not.

With good reason, pastors should treat church members equitably and without favoritism.  There’s a big difference, however, between true friendship and friendliness. 

My younger brother managers an Iowa-based agriculture company with 40 employees.  "I’m not friends with my employees," he said.  "I’m friendly, genuine and fair with everyone who works for me, but I don’t go out and eat with any of them."

Now friends, how many people in life are you truly friends with?  Three or four, maybe?  I think my brother would say church members can expect their pastor to be genuine and friendly but not necessarily their best friend.

If a wonderful friendship occurs between the pastor and some of his members [or between you and your employer], it is true serendipity for which both pastor and church member can merely give thanks.