(car conversations)
Every week I get to play games with a close group of friends. I was carpooling one evening with someone who lives close to my neighborhood, and on the way home we began chatting about the role of community and shifts throughout the 20th – 21st century. The night was one of those perfect summer evenings with a glow in the sky long after the sun had set, like a stage for our conversation. During the drive, my friend shared a comment which resonated more and more as I meditated on it. He said that some his most valued friendships are the people you can go grocery shopping with. He wondered aloud, “What does it look like to live alongside others at church, bible study, and the in-between moments, rather than segregating one’s friend groups?”
Transportation time with another person, like grocery shopping, feels like an in-between moment to me. Whenever I travel, some of the best times are at the airport, on the train, etc. which fill in the spaces between “planned events”. After leaving the “planned event”, the in-between moments are filled with random conversation, silent meditations, or a lingering sense of comradery as travel companions.
This idea of “filling a space” within the sphere of friendship, reminds me of God’s presence filling the Tabernacle or the Temple. While not tangible, there are some presences felt like a weighted blanket, “Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. Moses could not enter the tent of meeting because the cloud had settled on it, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.1“
Clouds are a nice example in nature of the concept I am attempting to articulate. Clouds weigh tons and tons, yet they seem to float effortlessly through the sky. Whenever I am high in the Rocky Mountains, there is one road where I can literally walk through clouds. I feel the weight of the air, every sense in my skin is awakened. The cloud lingers on my skin, each particle of water creates a barrier to the outside world. The barrier slowly evaporates, but for a couple moments my skin is nourished. I believe the lingering cloud vapors are what Moses felt when he entered into the tent to commune with God, or when he came down glowing from his encounter and he had to put a veil on his face not to scare the people. This concept is transferrable to deep, abiding friendships among people. These sorts of friendships transcend the physical, our divine spirits intermingle, and we leave changed. We leave with pieces of them in our internal being.
An old excerpt in one of my old travel journals had a small poem-like entry:
Loving you
I give a piece of myself
transforming the version of myself.Losing you
is losing a version of myself
deeply beloved.Grieving you
I grieve the loss of myself
Though you’ll never knowLoving you
losing you
grieving you
I finally move beyond you
where I become
the sum of those I’ve loved
and those who’ve loved me.
Each friend holds a version of me that is uniquely ours, I become the sum of those I have loved and those who have loved me. My grocery shopping friends seem to be the people I want to linger in the “cloud” with. The weight of their friendship is tangible; I take it with me wherever I walk as a part of my identity.
“In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out—until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the Lord was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the Israelites during all their travels.2“
When one of my closest friends came back to the U.S. after living abroad, one of the first things we did together was go to a grocery store. Earlier in the day, we caught up over a cup of coffee, went on a walk, and spent time intentionally filling up our “friendship tank” from so many months apart. Grocery shopping wasn’t part of the plan – I needed some things, and she wanted to see the new Kroger in town, so we went to the store. I don’t even remember chatting about anything significant, but there is a lasting sense of invested intimacy to be together because it is fun to be together – the other’s presence is enough for us.
My time together with this friend feels like a partial answer to the car question, “What does it look like to live alongside others at church, bible study, and the in-between moments, rather than segregating one’s friend groups?” Friendships (during any time in history and life) need consistency, play, intentional time, communion, worship, and opportunities to interact in all facets of our humanity. We were made to do life together and invest in the communities we live in. Amidst all the distractions of everyday life through technology, convenience, and life responsibilities, I still believe we can have abiding friendships with others. There is power in prioritizing friendships, and some of the richest moments come “in-between”, perhaps the best moment of a friendship could happen in the produce section.
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