The Essence of a Soul Friend": Spiritual Depth

The final thread running through the Celtic missionaries' understanding of the "soul friend" is, broadly, spirituality. They understood that, however essential and fulfilling a deep human bond might be, it could not take the place of a friendship with God. Indeed, such relationships flowed directly from such a love-bond with God.

They saw God as the true friend, the pattern of all friendship, the centre of a wheel in which all human soul-friendships are vital spokes. One example illustrates this well.

When his mentor and bishop died, Finbar (also written Finbarr or Findbar) felt bereft, so he went to see his friend Eolang. Eolang had been praying and had received a word from God for Finbar. He knelt before him and said: "I offer you my church and my soul." Finbar wept and would have none of it, but Eolang persisted. "Let it be so, for this is the will of God. You are dear to Him and you are greater than I. Only grant me this, that we may live and die in the same place."

Here it is clear that the heavenly dimension enriched the human beyond what it could have achieved itself.

The Celtic anamcharas (soul friends) appreciated that solitude and companionship had to be kept in a creative balance. Both were essential for what they called "soul-making": the lifelong process of making peace with God, with oneself, with others, and with all of creation. Soul friends are committed to helping one another make this journey successfully.

The need for such committed love has perhaps never been greater than in the post-Christian West. May these examples stir hunger and faith for a new movement of faith and application in the areas of soul-friendship listed in these posts, for the good of all our souls!

The Essence of a "Soul Friend": Mutuality

Another key aspect of heart-friendship, as conceived by the early Celtic missionaries, was mutuality. This shows itself in two principal ways.

First, the sharing of common values. The Celtic fathers and mothers, even a century apart, had a common vision of reality. They also seem on occasions to have received common intuitions - especially when it came to sensing the potential of future leaders. When Ciaran went to the island of Aran to visit his friend Enda, they both saw the same spiritual vision of a fruitful tree growing by a stream in the centre of Ireland, protecting the whole land. They both interpreted it the same way, too: that Ciaran would become that great tree and should found his monastery in the very centre of Ireland.

What shines clearly from the written lives of the Celtic saints is the profound respect which they showed for each other's wisdom and guidance - despite age or gender differences. They genuinely saw each brother or sister as a potential source of many blessings from God. The biographies often convey this symbolically, through the gesture of giving gifts. Although they lived poor, special gifts conveyed profound respect and mutuality: a ring, a bell, a hand-made wooden box, or maybe a horse.

In our day, where western society carries almost toxic levels of suspicion where any heart-closeness is concerned - especially same-gender and cross-generational, these examples are a poignant reminder of what has gone missing. Who will be courageous and humble enough to pioneer such mutuality today?

The Essence of a "Soul Friend": Directness

Another key aspect of the Celtic Christian "anamchara" (soul-friend) relationship was directness: the honesty and trust which enabled the challenging of one another on occasions.

Edward Sellner records the example of the godly woman Canair, who at the end of her life determined to visit the saintly Senan at his monastery on Inis Cathaig (Scattery Island in Munster). Senan met her at the jetty and told her to go to her sister's home on another nearby island. "That is not why I came", said Canair. "I came to find hospitality here."

"But women are not allowed on this island," Senan replied, to which Canair retorted: "Christ suffered for the sake of women as much as for the sake of men. Women as well as men may enter the heavenly kingdom." "You are persistent!", commented Senan (and we will never know the expression on his face). "Well then," said she, "will I get what I asked for? Will you let me live and die on this island?" Convinced, Senan granted her request.

Another example concerns Brendan the Navigator (referred to in the last post), who on his travels came to the monastery of Emly in Munster, where the patriarch Ailbe had presided for many years. Brendan burned with questions, but Ailbe's was a silent order! The monastery schoolmaster (who ipso facto was allowed to speak) had to rebuke Brendan and his companions for chatter. But Brendan persisted and Ailbe, recognising in the young man all the qualities of a future leader, broke his own rule and spoke, teaching him many things.

Edward Sellner writes:

'Soul friend relationships are characterised by mutuality; a profound respect for each other's wisdom, despite any age or gender difference; and the awareness that the other person is a source of many blessings.'

It is this foundation of complete respect and affection which gives the platform for brotherly correction. As the Bible puts it: As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens a man. [Proverbs 27:17]

The Essence of a "Soul Friend": Affection

In his article, 'Early Celtic Soul Friendship', Edward Sellner demonstrates that in 6th century Ireland, all the movers and shakers of Celtic Christianity had their "soul friends" (in Gaelic: anamchara), and were in turn "soul friends" to others. The biographies of these saints 'reveal how common soul-friend relationships were between men and men, women and women, and women and men.'

Pride of place must go to Finnian (470-549), founder of the great monastery at Clonard in County Meath, where it is said that up to 3,000 pupils came to sit at his feet when he expounded the scriptures. If St Patrick had been the pioneer, Finnian was the father of the church in Ireland. 'It was he who tutored and acted as a spiritual guide to so many of the early founders of the other large monasteries, such as Columcille [Columba] of Iona and Ciaran of Clonmacnoise.'

Finnian genuinely loved his disciples. In his letters to Ciaran, he would call him 'dear one' and 'o little heart', always adding a personal blessing.

In some cases, these deep, mentoring relationships came about through a disciple choosing a master, but in the case of Kevin of Glendalough, he was entrusted as a child to the wise care of three monks who became as dear as fathers to him.

Kevin and Ciaran were true heart-friends. When Ciaran lay dying, he refused to let go on life until Kevin had come. When Kevin came, the two spent many hours in loving conversation, then shared Communion together. Ciaran blessed Kevin and gave him a little bell as a sign of their lasting unity. Then he died.

Women had these relationships, too, and not just among women. Ite (or Ita), abbess of Killeedy in County Limerick, was mentor to so many male leaders that she is known as "the Fostermother of the Saints". She was especially close to Brendan, sometimes called 'the Navigator' because of his voyages. Their biographers record how Brendan would smile warmly whenever he thought of Ita, many miles away; and how Ita would feel the slow drag of time whenever Brendan was away. And in the 8th century "Liber Angeli" we read: Between Patrick and Brigid, pillars of the Irish, there existed so great a friendship of charity that they were of one heart and one mind.

The "Soul Friends" of Celtic Christianity, Introduction

We've looked at what some of the big names in 4th century 'Eastern' Christianity had to say about Christian heart-friendship. Now we need to go West, and a couple of centuries later, and look at the equivalent in Celtic Christianity.

At which point I discover that someone has already done the work: Edward Sellner, Professor of Theology at St Catherine's University, Minnesota. In several articles and one book, he has waded through the biographies of the early Celtic missionary saints and extracted plenty of material on friendship. So in what follows, I am simply offering a résumé of some of his findings, while happily pointing the interested reader to Sellner's works.

Hagiography, the writing of the lives of saintly men and women in history, is not without its pitfalls. To what extent were some, less praiseworthy, deeds or traits edited out? Are quotations genuine and from written sources? Or did the aim of 'creating' a saint override all other considerations? The need for proven miracles (in order for the saint to be officially recognised as one) can lead to seemingly far-fetched stories. And finally, symbolism and symbolic acts play a large part, and we can never be sure whether our interpretation of that action was really what was in the saint's mind at the time.

All that said, there is plenty to be found that points to a developed and greatly valued concept of heart-friendship, which in Celtic tradition was called "soul friendship". Over the next few posts I would like to explore these examples further, to see how relevant the ancient wisdom is to today's dislocated and lonely world.

The Outer and Inner Circles of Friendship

We continue to look at what Augustine of Hippo (†430) expresses about human relationships, expecially heart-friendship, in his autobiographical masterpiece, Confessions.

Broken-hearted at the death of his childhood friend, Augustine relocated to Carthage in 376 as a tutor in rhetoric. Here, with students who in some cases were not much younger than he, he found solace from his grief.

[It was a joy to him] to talk and jest together, to do kindness to each other; to read pleasant books together; to play the fool or be earnest together; to dissent at times without discontent, as a man might with his own self. These and other similar expressions, proceeding out of the hearts of those who love and are loved in return, [which are expressed] in the countenance, the tongue, the eyes, and a thousand pleasing gestures, were like fuel to melt our souls together, and out of many make us one.

Project this description forward sixteen centuries and you have today's "soap opera" model of friendship (e.g. Friends). To anyone fed a diet of these programs, Augustine's circle at Carthage was pretty high on the scale. Fun, arguments, horseplay, kindness - surely this is as good as it gets? And this is precisely where we see the alarming erosion of personal relationships today: people have to be guided by the media, and don't even realise when they're being sold short!

Augustine, however, was still not satisfied. Looking back later, he saw that his Carthage circle were chums, mates, buddies, but not friends of the heart. They were, if you like, the outer circle of relationships that everyone needs.

It was in Milan that things changed. He found a wise mentor in the bishop, Ambrose, and set his heart on becoming a Christian. He lodged with several young men, two of whom became lifelong friends: Alypius and Nebridius. Book 6 of the Confessions tells us more about them.

"Alypius was very fond of me because he saw me as good and learned, and I was very fond of him because of his natural tendency towards virtue which was remarkable in one so young." The relationship went deeper because they opened up to each other their weaknesses, struggles and confusion. In later years Augustine called Alypius "the brother of my heart" and wrote to Jerome: Anyone who knows us both would say that he and I are distinct individuals but one in mind, in harmony and trusty friendship.

Nebridius, "a really good and pure young man, had come to Milan for no other reason than that he might live with me in a most ardent search after truth and wisdom." Here too the relationship deepened through vulnerability and honesty: "Together we sighed and together we wavered." Nebridius also watched over Augustine, reining in his intellectual curiosity and protecting him from heresies. "He set me before myself, forcing me to look into my own face."

Here, then, is the inner circle of friendship - the relative few within our circle with whom we can drop our guard and let our true self be known. It is this that turns 'chums' into true heart-friends.

"Near Misses" On The Road To True Friendship

We continue to look at what Christian leaders in history have written on the vital subject of friendship, and especially the deep, pure heart bond that can be between Christians who have gone below the surface together.

Where better to start a new year, then, than with a real giant on the subject: Augustine of Hippo (354-430). Of all the Church Fathers, Augustine pondered the most on the matter of human relationships in general, and heart-friendships in particular. What makes him so readable on this - and on so much else - is the sheer humanity and honesty with which he wrote. His autobiographical Confessions make no attempt to cover his colourful pre-conversion life ("the madness of lust" made him live "a life in which I was seduced and seducing, deceived and deceiving").

His conversion experience at age 33 took place in the company of a friend, Alypius, and for the rest of his life he lived in various degrees of Christian community, surrounded by others, sharing his life with them. Some of these were particularly close to his heart. With hindsight, Augustine reassesses some earlier relationships which had seemed to be 'the real thing', but which proved not to be, as they were founded on two close but wrong 'cousins'. Let us consider two of these: sex and infatuation (or co-dependency).

In Books 3-6 of the Confessions we find a young woman, whom he does not name, who became the mother of his child. "I loved the idea of love", he writes, "but I muddied the clear spring of friendship with the dirt of lustful desire." The couple remained together for 13 years and the bond clearly went deep. When his faith led to a parting, "my heart, which clung to her, was broken and wounded and dripping blood." He adds that the woman never took another man. In a culture where the term "friend" was usually only applied to men, Augustine says a lot about this relationship by referring to his ex-partner as his "friend".

So sexual union is not the fulfilment of the heart's desire for friendship. In our day, when sex is billed as everything and leaves hearts broken and empty when it turns out not to be so, many may be wishing they could peep over the fence at what might be missing.

In Book 4 we read of a childhood friend in his native Tagaste (in modern Algeria). They were the same age and had played and gone to school together. The friendship with this lad continued into manhood. It was "sweeter to me than anything I had ever known. My soul could not be without him." Augustine was devastated when his friend died of a fever. "Tears took the place of my friend in my heart's love. I was in misery, for I felt that my soul and my friend's had been one soul in two bodies."

At this point, a 21st century reader may already be thinking "gay", even as the archetypal male heart-bond of David and Jonathan in the Bible is interpreted as "gay" in some circles today [1 Samuel 20:17; 2 Samuel 1:26]. But remember, such a branding of all same-sex attraction is an invention of the 19th century; it was not thought about that way in previous centuries and we must avoid crude retro-projections of modern interpretations.

More useful to us is Augustine's own judgement with the benefit of hindsight: "We depended too much on each other... He was not a friend in the true meaning of friendship." Here, then, is the second 'near miss' on the road to deep heart-friendship: the persuasive but largely mythical idea of the "bosom buddy" who will meet all your emotional needs and where the relationship seems almost instant, requiring no real hard work.

In the next few posts we'll look at what Augustine has to say about true heart-friendship.

A Friend Indeed?

Loneliness is the most terrible poverty. Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

Back to the blog after quite a lay-off, but the various strands that make up community are still very much uppermost in my thinking. Today I want to turn to the matter of FRIENDSHIP.

"I don't know why but I just can't make 'real' friends very easily. I feel lonely all the time," writes a 20 year old to Yahoo Answers. The advice in this case (join a sports club) struck me as a complete travesty. OK, the malaise might be temporary, a teenage angst, so joining a club might sort it. But surely the issue is much deeper and more existential, reaching to the deepest parts of our conscious human need.

Jesus Christ knew how vital friendship was. He became a friend to the friendless and unwanted (Luke 7:34). As He neared the end of His earthly walk, He reserved the highest accolade for His inner circle: "I have called you my friends" (John 15:15). And most telling of all, in the horror of his own personal agony in Gethsemane, He wanted His closest friends near Him - and opened His heart to them in the most open, vulnerable way (Mark 14:33-34).

With this in mind, it is certainly surprising that Christian writers down the ages have been remarkably silent on the subject of true friendship, heart-brotherhood and the like. In the next few posts I hope to unearth some of what has been produced on the subject and see how it feeds into the desperate need in our own society today.