One of the biggest disrupters of peace in our lives is that we’re, on the whole, a lonely people.
This fact became obvious to me once again as I was sitting at a CESA symposium breakout session of heads of school the other day. These are people who are generally extroverted, or make a living building relationships with people. They are leaders, heading up schools that are as large as 3,500 students, and as small as 350. We were given guiding questions to discuss, but I didn’t really like any of them, so I asked the eight or so leaders gathered at my table, “Who are your deep friends? Who are the people, other than your spouses or families, with whom you are intimate?”
I wasn’t suprised to learn that, to a person, none of them had such friends. After all, I had asked this question of my other heads of school colleagues before, and received similar answers. Leadership is a lonely position. Yet, before we begin thinking of leaders or heads of school as unique loners, it’s important to note that friendlessness is a significant problem in American culture. Many Americans have fewer close friends than they once did, and some say they have none at all.
In 2021, 49 percent of Americans had 3 or fewer close friends; 12 percent said they had no friends. That’s a precipitous dip from 1990, when 27 percent of Americans reported they had 3 or fewer close friends. Even those who have friends only spend, on average, less than 3 hours per week with them. This phenomenon hits men harder, with more than half of men saying they are unsatisfied with the size of their friend group.
Studies show that loneliness can negatively impact mental health and quality of life. A study of 480,000 people in the UK showed that friendlessness increased the risks of heart attack and stroke. A recent meta-analysis demonstrates that having no friends increases the risks of early death by 26 percent.
These studies and statistics reinforce what we know to be true from Scripture. The biblical concept of shalom includes peace in our relationships with others. Inherent in this concept of peace is that we actually have such relationships. God made us for community, for each other. We are made in the image of a God who has always existed in community–as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit–and who created us for community. Friends strengthen, encourage, confront, exhort, and provide life-giving enjoyment in a way that our spouses or family members simply can’t. Our spouses and children were meant to be close, deep relationships, our deepest earthly relationships, but they were never meant to replicate or take the place of genuine friendship. And, having a strong family but no friends creates a certain kind of loneliness that still leaves us feeling incomplete, because, in a real way, we are.
The friendlessness phenomenon is probably attributable to several things: the pandemic, those of us who have turned to our spouse or family at the expense of friends (again, it’s wonderful to have and be dedicated to family, but it’s a “both/and”, not an “either/or”), people lacking friend-making skills, or a lack of free time.
I’ve said and written a lot (adding to many others) about how many of the friendships we do have as Americans are counterfeit. Some of us have online friends we’ve never met, and while we may relate to them in a way, true, deep friendship is meant to be incarnate. We are created to be emotionally, spiritually, and physically present in each other’s lives, and when we don’t have a physical presence, we miss something significant. Other affinity groups we’re part of are tribes, rather than friend groups. These are simply people with whom we share common interests, but not our hopes, our dreams, our fears, our lives. These are not our friends.
This past week, I had the opportunity to celebrate ten years of friendship with a special group of guys. I have three colleagues who are or were heads of school in various places around the country who have become some of my closest friends. Our friendship began with a recognition of some of us that we had no friends. We were at a CESA symposium, like the one I attended last week, but this one featured then-Gordon College president Michael Lindsey as a keynote speaker. Dr. Lindsey talked about perils of leadership, and a critical juncture in his leadership when he walked the college through a controversy rooted in its distinctive Christian beliefs that brought it into conflict with the Boston Globe.
During this trying season, Dr. Lindsey reflected on the power of his friendship with then-Christianity Today editor-in-chief Andy Crouch, and how this friendship had been edifying and life-giving during a particularly dark season. I believe Dr. Lindsey’s comments resonated with all of us, striking home the power of friendship in bringing comfort and strength through the trials of leadership.
When we returned home, I received an email from one of my colleagues, addressed to another head of school and me. The subject line read: “I have no friends. You guys are going to be my friends.” My colleague suggested we meet up in North Carolina for a long weekend to eat, smoke cigars, hike, and talk about the joys, trials, and travails of being a head of school. With three being an awkward number, we added a fourth head of school, and met in Banner Elk, North Carolina. We called our group “Banner Elk,” and we have met every December since then.
We rotate through each of our homes, whether North Carolina, Arkansas, Texas, Georgia, or wherever. The host plans the weekend: we hunt, shoot, fish, attend college football games, travel to many lake houses, hike in the mountains, eat well, and, as I said, smoke cigars. We talk about our jobs, our nuclear families, our school families, and growing older. We share life, we rejoice and commiserate about being heads of school, we laugh together, make fun of each other, and pray together. Throughout the year, we text each other daily about serious stuff, and, more often, really stupid stuff (our wives have often comment that there’s very little difference between our text streams and those of the middle school boys we supervise–that’s a difficult point to argue).
Because these guys do what I do, they understand me in ways few others do. Over the years, our wives have become friends, as well, and three of them work together in the same Christian school ministry, drawing us still closer together.
Those of you who know me know these aren’t my only close friends. God has blessed me richly with others. But, with these guys, I share ideas and collaborate. I am a much better head of school because they are in my life, and we are a much better school because of my friendship with them. This has become some of the “secret sauce” of what makes Grace, Grace.
And, while other heads of school have shared with me that they wish they had a friend group like this, it isn’t magical. They, and you, can have this, too. God loves you, and he really, really wants you to have it. It’s actually his will for your life, something you can pray for knowing he wants it for you. It requires several things to make, and be, a friend that has friends like this:
Empathy– You have to be a person who empathizes with others. All too often in our culture, we’re quick to judge others, to asssume we know their story when we really don’t have a clue. People are full of so much more sadness and brokenness than we ever knew possible, yet so much more capable of beauty and love, if we’d just give them a chance to understand them and their story.
Active listening– Too many times, we’re listening to other people while at the same time thinking about the next “important” thing we need/want to say, mostly about ourselves. This is primarily because we have lost our fascination with other people. You can learn so much more about life if you’re willing to get into the stories of others. I was in Ireland this past week, and I learned so much about Ireland and the Irish people just by striking up conversations and really listening to the cab and Uber drivers who drove me around this week. My life is so much richer than if I had been talking about myself or playing on my phone.
Vulnerability– At the root of deep friendship is the willingness to be vulnerable. A real friend is someone you can tell anything, which is terrifying if you’ve never been vulnerable with anyone but your spouse (if him or her). But, the only way to build trust is for someone to take the initiative in being vulnerable about themselves, their hopes, their dreams, and their fears, and trust is at the root of all real relationship, including friendship.
Willingness to engage in conflict– The other night at dinner, I had to speak into the life of one of my Banner Elk guys in a way that was hard, but to his genuine good. These were words I didn’t think he wanted to hear, but words that I knew in my heart would bring truth and healing, albeit healing through pain. All of these guys have done the same for me, as recently as a few weeks ago. But, if we’re not willing to risk conflict with our friends, to speak hard truths to them, to talk them away from self-harm that they may or may not be aware of, then how can we say we truly love them? True love never affirms harmful thoughts or actions; it always seeks to intervene, even at the risk of conflict. It speaks with gentleness and love, but always with truth.
As you can see, being a true friend takes risk and courage. It’s true that friends can hurt you. But not having friends can hurt you worse, causing physical and mental health issues, not to mention not living up to all God created you to be, missing out on the abundant life that is your birthright, the richness he wants you to have.
Take the initiative. Like my friend did on that day ten years ago, send the email, or the invitation. There are lots of people out there, people like the guys sitting around that table at the CESA symposium last week, just wishing someone would reach out to them. People who need friends. They need you, and you need them.
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