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1 December 2023

9 min read

From the barber’s chair: the friendships that open us up

Adrian and Neal recall and recount tales of friendships and what made them work so well.

Adrian Urquidez and Neal Presa

Adrian Urquidez is a Californian barber and theologian Neal Presa is a regular client.

Three men walk down a path, the middle one talking and gesturing while the others listen.

Centre for Ageing Better on Unsplash.

Adrian

As life moves on, I began to realize how important my friendships are. Half the people that I grew up with are now married with kids and the other half are still living their life independently. We all have our own paths in life, and I believe whichever path you take, those whom you consider friends will support you and your decisions no matter what.

As I went through my issues in 2019, I had nothing but support from my family and

friends. It wasn't easy for me to be open with my struggles because I felt that everyone would look at me differently. I received nothing but support from everyone then and when I returned to work. They were all there, waiting to book their next cuts with me. From the beginning of my return I knew, then, how important my clients were to me. I wasn't just their barber; I was their friend whom they continued to support even during one of the craziest times in my life.

Trying to stay afloat during a global pandemic was not easy; honestly it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. I knew I had to be as strong as I could be so I could help my loved ones stay positive and their heads held high.

During these times, I worked as much as possible. At every appointment with a client, they showed support and always checked in with how I was. I used all these opportunities to help myself by speaking what was on my mind. Sometimes they would even open up to me and share what was going on in their lives, positive or negative. These times were much needed therapy sessions at every appointment. Being vulnerable helped me so much and it also helped my friends share what was on their minds; they opened up to me.

When I finally felt right to open up about this incident it was with people who shared the same struggles. They understood and never once judged me.

Growing up we were taught never to show any fear or emotion. I grew up in a rough area where if you showed weakness, you could be the next target to get bullied. I didn't realize until about four years ago how that way of living was wrong. That way of living haunted me for years.

Going back to my childhood, there was an incident that shaped my teens and early

adulthood. I was touched inappropriately by a member of my family and thankfully someone came home so it didn't go further than it did. I never spoke about this incident because I didn't realize the severity of the situation as a young boy and how it would affect me in my later life. You would never think a family member would do anything to put you or harm you in any way. Even as an adult I never said anything because I did not want to get judged or have people put a label on me that wasn't true. When I finally felt right to open up about this incident it was with people who shared the same struggles. They understood and never once judged me.

These were people who I just met but I felt like I had known them for years. I opened up to them more than I had opened up to my childhood friends and family.

This is where I discovered the meaning of friendship. I was never judged and looked at differently. I was the same person to them, and I was accepted no matter what. What a great feeling. I began to hold my friendships close as I had the confidence to share so much with everyone. One of the first clients whom I felt comfortable with opening up with was my friend Neal. I remember going over to cut Neal’s and his sons’ hair and I always left feeling purified. I can honestly say that Neal is one-of-a-kind and I'm so lucky to have him by my side. Neal has seen me at my lowest and never once has he ever judged me.

He and his family have shown nothing but support and just truly care for our friendship. This is where I discovered the meaning of friendship. To me, the meaning of friendship is endless love no matter what the person or persons are going through. You never judge but try to point your friend or loved one in the right direction. Always support and be there when you can. We can take for granted those friendships and lose sight that they are the ones that would be there with a simple phone call or text.

Today I cherish all my friendships and I'm there for those who were there for me when I was at my lowest. I will do anything in my power because I know my friends and family would do the same for me.

Neal

Thirty years ago, there were a little over 600 websites, two years after the World Wide Web debuted on the global stage. Today, there are a little over two billion websites. Yet, with all of our connectivity, loneliness is endemic. The social isolation that ensued during COVID-19 only exacerbated what was latent in our body politic. Yet, whether pre-, peri-, or post-COVID, the level and depth of loneliness is staggering. While many people have social media accounts, and the ubiquity of smart devices keep us all connected 24/7, one’s number of “likes,” “friends,” “followers” belie what is experienced in silence: we live, and move, and have our being in lonesome existence. We seek to be known and loved, but our career pursuits and dreams of having families leave us feeling alone.

They desired someone or a few who could understand them, who desired to understand them, to love them. And to love them not for a quid pro quo, but just to love them for who they are.

For eight years I served an affluent congregation in one of America’s most affluent ZIP codes. Business acumen, political gravitas, excellence in duty, and elegance in program execution were the values and expectations of the community and congregational context. It was a wonderful ministry, where I learned much and where I had to engage my gifts and skills in deeper ways. God opened up spaces for me to minister within, love and be loved by people who were successful in their industry.

When that ministry concluded, two separate congregants asked to meet for a meal. Each of them shared that they appreciated my season of pastoral ministry and they hoped that we would continue staying in touch, perhaps become close friends. They realized that they had spent decades forging business relationships, raising a family (for one of them, navigating a divorce of a second failed marriage), and having careers. Now in their mid-/late fifties they looked around and saw the absence of relationships of any meaningful depth. Sure, there were the business lunches, dinners with friends and cocktails with other couples. But in their mid-life, they sought authentic friendships. They desired someone or a few who could understand them, who desired to understand them, to love them. And to love them not for a quid pro quo, but just to love them for who they are. They said that they experienced a semblance of that in my eight-year ministry with the congregation.

What was I to do with their request? I had already left the employment of the church by then. They and I had to part ways as I was no longer their pastor. If anything, we were friends, and would remain so, but I could not commit to the level of depth they desired. I told each of them, gently and pastorally, that two decades ago, when I was newly married and starting my pastoral vocation, I intentionally forged a wide network of friendships. Not just for my work but for emotional and spiritual support. But among this network, there was that small few whom I can count on one hand who are the A-Team of friendships. Those friendships were cultivated over many years – a couple of them over two decades – as we have been intentional about being in each other’s lives. We would stay in touch and would find opportunities to see each other, carving out precious times wherever we were in the world and whatever demands were on our plate. That intentional commitment meant being willing to be vulnerable. It meant taking the risk early on to open up my heart with guys I deeply trusted and who entrusted their hearts to me.

The Message version of the Old Testament wisdom sayings of Proverbs says: “Friends come and friends go, but a true friend sticks by you like family.”

I didn’t want to deflate the spirits of my two former congregants. But neither did I want to over-promise, to commit myself to investing the time and energy in cultivating the depth of friendship they sought. I told them let’s stay in touch and we left it that. It’s been over a year since those sacred conversations and there’s radio silence.

In reflecting upon those conversations, and in similar conversations with many pastor colleagues and fellow dads who are not pastors, loneliness is, indeed, endemic. It’s tragic and it’s sad. As we can’t be deep friends with everyone, there is a yearning and longing for the depth of friendships that my former congregants sought. People seek that authentic depth of desiring to be known, of being listened to, of being received and welcomed into one’s heart without having to prove anything.

As Jesus was nearing the end of his time with his friends (his disciples), he emphasized how important it is to love one another. He even washes their feet to demonstrate that even the Son of God will humble himself because he loves his friends. He teaches them what he means when he calls them friends, when he regards us as his friends, and not as servants. This is what Jesus our friend said,

“I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing, but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father”

The late Earl Palmer, an American Presbyterian pastor, taught from this passage. Palmer observed that Jesus regards us as his friend by virtue of the fact that Jesus allows us to be in the company of him and the heavenly Father as they have a conversation about the secrets of God’s heart. In other words, only to his friends will Jesus whisper the Father’s heart because to do so is to entrust the treasure of the One who loves him into our own heart. That by doing so, we are let into the heart of God.

It’s that quality of friendship that is most needed more than ever. It’s the God-shaped heart that takes the risk to love and be loved. It’s the kind where you can whisper to your friend the sacred longings, hopes, dreams, and fears of your heart. It’s, likewise, receiving from your friend the same: being entrusted with the treasure of their heart. And it’s also experiencing joy and delight in being with each other, even through online technology, whether it be for a 15-minute coffee or for a whole day at the tennis courts or sharing corny jokes that no one else appreciates but they do.

Friendships are gifts of God and gifts from God. The ability to open up our hearts and lives to others is a gift of and from God as well. In doing so, we reflect a bit on what Jesus shows us what love is about, what it takes to love, and what it means to be loved.

The wise words of philosopher and poet, Henri-Frédéric Amiel, encapsulate well what is needed more than ever:

“Life is short. We have but little time to gladden the hearts of those who walk this way with us. So we swift to love, make haste to be kind.”

Essay

Belief

Comment

24 May 2024

7 min read

Everyone comes from somewhere

Why young people need to understand the religious landscape.

Roger Standing

Roger is a Baptist minister, author and Senior Research Fellow at Spurgeon’s College in London.

A young person stands in front of railway station platfrorms and below a large informaton display.

Rostyslav Savchyn on Unsplash.

I had never been so self-conscious of being British. I had flown into Denver, Colorado and for the first time I realised that I had an accent. I had gone to study and a Canadian instantly knew I was a Brit. The locals were less clear. Some had me down as an Aussie, others guessed a South African.

But it wasn’t only accents. I quickly learned the differences between us went much deeper. Private health care, guns and the separation of church and state were a whole new cultural landscape. They felt very strange to my British sensibilities that were accustomed to the welfare state, the absence of guns and an established church.

My exposure to all things American began in the early 1990s. The sociologist James Davison Hunter had just published his prophetic commentary, Culture Wars: the struggle to define America. For those I was beginning to get to know, the campaigns to reverse Roe Vs Wade and ban abortion, along with active attempts to introduce prayer into the public school system highlighted the cultural differences between us.

Likewise, they found it hard to comprehend that in England Religious Education (RE) in state-funded schools was mandated by Act of Parliament. That I considered this a bad thing mystified them.

The world we are living in has changed. Issues around religion have become more critical than at any point in my lifetime.

Of course, RE itself had a chequered history. The 1902 Education Act provided state funding for denominational religious instruction, mostly benefiting the Church of England. Nonconformist churches were outraged at the thought of the established church indoctrinating their children. Methodists, Baptists and Congregationalists withheld their taxes and, by 1904, 37,000 summonses had been issued, thousands had their property seized and 80 had gone to prison in protest.

Thankfully things have moved on. During the twentieth century denominational instruction evolved through several stages to the present world religions curriculum.

Still, over the years I have consistently felt that our approach in the UK was in danger of proving ‘the inoculation hypothesis’ with regard to faith. That is, providing a small harmless dose of exposure to religion in childhood can effectively prevent the real thing developing in adults.

Of course, faith-based schools and RE remain hot topics. Only this month the government launched a public consultation on removing ‘… the 50 per cent cap on faith admissions’. Warmly welcomed by providers like the Catholic Schools Service, it was condemned by Humanists UK and others advocating a fully secular provision.

This line of contention has become a familiar one. On one side sit around a third of mainstream state schools that are church or faith-based, most affiliated with the Church of England. On the other are groups like the National Secular Society who correctly point out that the privileged position of church-sponsored education is not reflective of wider society.

These positions have become entrenched over the years. Arguments are laced with rhetorical hyperbole and are often either ill-informed or merely raise strawmen arguments to symbolically knock down. We can no longer afford to be so self-indulgent.

The world we are living in has changed. Issues around religion have become more critical than at any point in my lifetime. It is now more important than ever that we have a handle on it.

And then there’s the frequent stereotyping of religion in the media. Off-the-peg religious reporting ‘templates’ are easy to use but are ‘lazy’ journalism.

The invasion of Ukraine by Putin’s Russia is no mere materialist land-grab. To fail to take into account the theological dimension compromises any understanding of what is going on. The history of Eastern Orthodoxy and the Russian Orthodox Church help define the Russian identity that sits behind this conflict.

In Israel, the bloody atrocity enacted on Israeli citizens by Hamas, and the brutal devastation wrought in Gaza by Netanyahu’s Israeli Defence Force are beyond words. But this conflict is theologically as well as politically fueled. Hamas embraces a militant interpretation of extremist Sunni Islam, while Netanyahu’s religious-nationalist coalition sees his Likud party kept in power by ultra-Orthodox parties and far-right religious factions.

In India, the world’s biggest democracy, 970 million voters this year participate in an election stretching over six weeks. Yet this formally secular state has been travelling on a different trajectory. Yasmeen Serhan observed in The Atlantic that under Prime Minister Modi the ‘Hinduization of India is nearly complete’.

And then there’s the frequent stereotyping of religion in the media. Off-the-peg religious reporting ‘templates’ are easy to use but are ‘lazy’ journalism.

A leading newspaper recently carried instant opposition to the thought of Kate Forbes being a potential First Minister of Scotland because of her ‘traditionalist’ views. Somehow, her commitment in a BBC interview to defend the right to same-sex marriage even though it clashed with her personal views was insufficient.

Across one of my social media feeds as I was writing this piece came a plea, ‘I’m proud to be British. I’m proud to be a Muslim. I am not a terrorist. Why don’t they get it?’

Maybe the American approach to religion goes a long way to explain something of their culture wars.

But always there is America. And here’s where a penny unexpectedly dropped for me. If you keep religion out of schools, for many young people you deny them the tools, the ideas, and a framework with which to understand the religious dimension of life. This can have catastrophic implications.

As G.K. Chesterton is reputed to have observed, ‘when people stop believing in God they don't believe in nothing; they believe in anything.’

Then, for those living within a practising religious home, the absence of religion in school heightens the possibility that their thinking is siloed purely in their own rarefied tradition.

Maybe the American approach to religion goes a long way to explain something of their culture wars.

If it's true that whatever happens in America inevitably makes its home in Britain, we need to sit up and take notice. More than ever, we need our young people to be adept at understanding the religious landscape. With the ubiquity of social media, the unseen influence of echo-chamber algorithms and the nefarious activities of those bent on radicalising the vulnerable, we need them to have the tools and skills to be aware, see and understand.

This is what has caused me to think again and, surprisingly, change my mind. We need to draw a line in the sand on our historic arguments, disagreements and differences of conviction. The situation is more pressing. We need a reset.

If democracy is not a zero-sum game where the majority gets to impose its will tyrannically on the rest, this has to be a way forward.

The encouraging thing is that the groundwork for such a step change is already in place. In 2018 the Commission on Religious Education (CoRE) proposed a reconceiving of the subject as Religion and Worldviews. Their intention was to make it more appropriate and inclusive for the twenty-first century. For them, the ‘complex, diverse and plural’ landscapes of different religions and worldviews deserved both understanding and respect. Yet, students also needed to develop the ‘necessary critical facility to ask questions and challenge assumptions’.

Such an approach embraces the insights and philosophical commitments of non-religious worldviews too. ‘Everyone has a worldview’, said the report. Nobody stands nowhere was the title of an excellent animated short film on YouTube produced by the Theos think tank.

The truth is, ‘everyone comes from somewhere’. This is as true for secular humanists as it is for cradle-to-grave Anglicans, majority-world Pentecostalists and British-born Muslims. Helpfully CoRE defines a worldview as:

… a person’s way of understanding, experiencing and responding to the world.

The report maintained that it was vitally important that different worldviews were understood as ‘lived experience’. This was not just about abstract beliefs, doctrinal understandings and theoretical convictions. This was about real people, the lives they live and what is important and gives meaning to them.

If living in a genuine democracy is about learning how to rub along together. If it is about understanding and respecting those who have a different take on life than we do, no matter how ‘odd’ it seems. If democracy is not a zero-sum game where the majority gets to impose its will tyrannically on the rest, this has to be a way forward.

Given the challenges that face us, it seems to me that not to change our approach to RE would be negligent. Yet to remove all reference to religion from our schools risks our young people falling prey to manipulation, subversion and control by bad actors, misinformed activists and cranks.

These would be the seeds of our very own culture wars.

Personally speaking, I’d rather not go there.