My Friends

I had only been in college about five or six weeks, a hayseed straight from a central Ohio farm to the big city of Cincinnati, when entering the dorm I overheard a group of guys talking about the Republican Party’s state convention being in town the following week. I had already learned to really like parties, so I went over to listen a little closer. A dean’s list nerd who was doing most of the talking said a friend of his was going to pick him up and take him downtown to the convention and if anyone wanted to go they could have a free ride. I immediately recognized this as a great educational opportunity. I hadn’t cracked a book outside the classroom for five or six weeks, so I might as well go see how the Republicans could throw a party. He said all the Republican state political big wigs, Senators, Congressmen, Legislators, Governor Rhodes and even the Governor of California were going to be there. I would really impress Mom and Dad if I told them I had gone to hear Governor Rhodes speak. So, the nerd set the time and place, and five or six of us said we wanted to go.

The closer the time came, the more excited I became. I wondered if I could get close enough to Governor Rhodes to get a good picture. To make sure I didn’t get left, I went to the pick up place about 15 minutes early, highly unusual for me. No one was there yet, so I sat down and waited. Ten minutes later, nobody else was there. The time came and went, and still no one had shown up. I thought, I’ll give this another 15 minutes, and then if no one shows up, I’m going to go looking for that nerd and settle the score. Just before I decided to leave, an orange VW Bug pulled up. A little guy I had never seen before or since got out and hurried to the door. He stuck his head in, looked around and said, “I’m supposed to pick up some guys to go the convention. Am I at the right place?”  I said, “Yes, but I’m the only that has shown up so far”.

He said, “Well, we‘re late and can’t wait any longer. Let’s go.” Now just because I was straight off the farm didn’t mean I was totally stupid. My mom had taught me better than that! Never, ever, ever get into a car with a total stranger, yet this guy was about 5’3” and 120 lbs. I was 6’2” and a 180 lbs. I figured that, even if I stood on one leg and tied one hand behind my back, I could still handle anything this guy could dish out. So, I got in his car and we went downtown.

We parked and went into the Convention Center. This was the biggest building I had ever been in, at least 4 or 5 acres under one roof. There were sections of chairs set up 50 chairs wide and 200 chairs deep. We were actually early, and there were only a couple hundred people milling around down in front of the stage. I saw there were seats available in the fifth or sixth row in the left center section and started for them. The little guy said, “Hey, where are you going?” I said, “Down front to get those seats close to the stage.” He said,

“No! No! Let me tell you what is going to happen.” Then he took my hand and walked me down the center aisle. The first four rows on the right center section were roped off for the press, but in the middle of the first row behind the press there were two empty chairs. Sure enough, he made twenty some people stand up so we could scoot past.

He said, “Here’s what will happen. When this gets filled up, there will 12 to 15 thousand people in here. They then will blow trumpets to announce that Governor Rhodes and the governor of California are about to enter. Those big doors in the back are going to open up and the whole entourage is going to come down the center aisle right past us. The people on the cat walks up above will dump confetti and balloons on them and they will go up on the right side of the stage.”

The place was full of signs and placards saying, “Rhodes for Vice President.” An hour and a half later the trumpets blew, the door opened, confetti and balloons were dropped, and the parade started down the center aisle. What we didn’t expect was that as soon as the entourage passed the press section, the press flowed out like a river behind them. Flash bulbs popping, people pushing and shoving and in the rush, a reporter’s badge fell off. My friend scooped up the badge, stuck it on his shirt, grabbed my hand and dragged me stumbling and stepping on people’s feet to the aisle. When he got there, he didn’t stop. He keep pushing, wiggling and wedging, dragging me through the crowd until we were clear up to the front of the stage just as the governors sat down. My eyes must have been as big as saucers. I had never seen anything like this before. I looked to my right, the stage came up to the middle of my chest, but my friend barely had his chin above the stage floor. To his right were five or six women who weren’t even as tall as he was. To my left, for six or eight people, there was no one who had more than their neck above the floor, but they all had an arm stretched as high as they could reach waving like idiots. So, I stuck my hand up as far as I could reach and waved like an idiot, too. We must have looked like a nest full of baby birds waiting for a worm from their mother. Anyway, the sight apparently struck the governor of California funny, and when I looked back across the stage we made eye contact. With a smile on his face, he got up, walked straight over to me, grabbed my hand with both of his and gave me a big hardy shake. Then he stood straight up, took a step back, waved at the crowd for a few moments, and sat back down. Governor Rhodes, not to be outdone, came over and shook hands with everybody in the line.

There was something special in that hand shake with the governor of California, though. After I shook his hand, I went on to complete four years of college in five, marry my college sweetheart, and raise five children. After he shook my hand, he went on to become the fortieth President of the United States and defeat America’s arch enemy without firing a shot or losing a single soldier.

I considered Ronald Reagan one of my best good friends. We were just like peas and carrots. As my kids grow up, I told them that story many times. Whenever President Reagan was on TV, we would gather around the television and listen to his every word. No one was allowed to talk while he was speaking. They all knew this was daddy’s special friend.

One cold January night, Ronny was giving his State of the Union Address. My youngest daughter, Amy who was in the third grade, was sitting on my wife’s lap. She looked up at her and asked, “Mommy do you think President Reagan remembers Daddy?” To this day I don’t know why my wife answered the way she did. There are just some things a husband learns not to ask his wife. She answered, “Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you write and ask him?” I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead, and in that moment realized I had probably over embellished the story. So, my wife helped Amy write the letter. Reason soon returned, and I felt safe knowing there is no way a little girl’s letter is ever going to get to the President of the United States, let alone him answering it. I was confident my story had stood the test.

About three weeks later, much to my surprise, a very special looking letter arrived addressed to Amy from the White House. It was ivory in color, had ragged edges, and the return address was embossed in silver. We all gathered around when Amy opened it. Inside was another envelope. This one was pure white, embossed in dark blue with the Presidential seal. It read, “Office of the President of the United States of America”.  Inside it was a card. Hand scrawled on the right side was a short message. It read, “Dear Amy, I love to have little girls write me about their daddies. Please understand I meet a lot of people and I can’t remember them all. But, that tall, lanky college kid who the little guy that stole the press badge dragged up to the front of the stage in Cincinnati, is he your Daddy?” Well, … that’s what I would liked for it to have said. He didn’t actually say anything about remembering it.

Its funny how we act when we get around a celebrity, isn’t it? It makes us feel special. We want to go and tell our friends and family all about it. We even tend to embellish the story a little bit, some of us anyway.

My other best good friend is Jesus. He means everything to me. He will never leave me and is an ever present help in time of need.

In John’s account of the life of Christ he records a touching event, (Ch.15:13ff).

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because servants do not know their master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I have learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit – fruit that will last… (NIV)

In Jesus’ time, Greek culture and philosophy still dominated the world scene. It was the prevailing world view among the intelligentsia. It remains influential even today.  About 500 B.C. the Greek philosopher Heraclitus wrote some of his conclusions about the physical universe. Basically he said there is something that holds all things together and from which all things flow. It is invisible, untouchable, and unperceived by the senses, but it is definitely there. This power, this force, this intelligence, this order, he called the “Logos”.  Plato (300 B.C.) and Aristotle (250 B.C.) refined and added to the concept. The Stoics popularized it, and Philo of Alexandria (20 B.C.to 50 A.D.) called it God’s “Blueprint for the world”. We translate “The Logos” as “The Word”.

It was in this backdrop of Greek thinking that the Apostle John wrote his account of the life of Christ some time between 70-90 A.D. He began with:

In the beginning was the Word (Logos), and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him; and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life; and the life was the light of man.” (John 1:1-4 NASB)

“The Logos”, John tells us, is Jesus. He is indescribable, all powerful, all knowing, ever present and eternal. But He is also personal. He knows the name of every one of His children. And some day in eternity someone will ask Him if He knows me. He will get a big smile on his face and answer, “He’s one of my best good friends. We are just like peas and carrots.”

Ronald Reagan is with out doubt one of the greatest leaders on the twentieth century and history will show him to be one of the greatest presidents of all time. He was truly a great man. However, my friendship with President Reagan was one sided. He never even knew my name, but not so with Jesus. He not only knows my name, He considers me one of his best friends, and He is vastly greater than Ronald Reagan.

He knows my name,

He knows my every thought,

He knows each tear that falls,

And answers when I call.

Colossians 1:26&27

“… the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people.   To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.