THERE IS A PLAGUE THAT SOMETIMES WORRIES ME, AND IT IS not one of the great biological plagues we face today. I care about those, but the plague I think about almost every day is the plague of loneliness among men. In truth, the phrase that goes through my mind is this: the friendless man.
I talk to, consult with, counsel, and train a lot of men in the work I do. Most of these men are leaders, and some are known the world over. Almost every time I get a chance, I ask men about their friends. I learned a long time ago in my consulting work that friends are the best reflection of a man’s happiness, priorities, and health.
What I usually hear from men is that they have simply lost touch with the men who mean the most to them. They find themselves awash in a sea of casual relationships. They do work with other men, and they can usually scare up a group of guys to go yell and scream at the sports bar. Yet when I ask them who they would turn to if they were about to have an affair or if their marriage was coming apart or if they were out of town and needed someone to get their son out of jail, most of them are at a loss to come up with a name. Some even tear up. Several guys I talked to were so lonely they asked me if I could recommend someone to be their friend.
The reasons for this plague would fill volumes. It would become a critical analysis of almost everything in the modern world. That’s for another book. This book is about doing, about actions that make up manhood. I’m completely convinced that one of those actions—one of the skills we must master to be genuine men—is the skill of friendship.
If you snickered a bit when you read “skill of friendship,” be assured I understand. For most men, friendships come easily. They certainly did for me. I never had to work at them. They didn’t require a special set of skills to find buddies on the playground. In high school and college, finding friends was even easier.
Things changed after college, though. I got married. I bought a house. The grass around that house insisted on growing. I discovered that my wife came with all sorts of family members who, as it turned out, thought of me as a relative. This took time. Lots of it. I was also ambitious. I worked hard in my career and even decided to earn a couple of master’s degrees. Then I lost my heart to two squirmy babies, and all of a sudden it was a decade and half later and I had started using the word friend to refer to guys in other cities whom I called once or twice a year. Maybe.
What I did not have was a band of brothers, a tribe, a posse, a group of guys who knew my life and were fun to be with but who had no problem challenging me if I needed it. You know: covenant, “one for all and all for one,” and “always there for you, bro” kind of friends.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before I began to realize what had happened to me. This realization came because I heard someone say that by his early thirties the average man cannot name a friend close enough to even know what is going on in his life, much less to call up at the last minute for a bit of fun.
I was this average man. No other man knew what was happening in my inner life. No other man was close enough to see how I was living and even say an encouraging word, much less offer a warning if I needed it. And no wonderfully ill-mannered buddy was near enough to me to bust into my life and knock me out of my ruts and my routine. As a result, I was dull and getting duller. I was bored and boring. And I was stagnant, going absolutely nowhere but maintaining the illusion of progress. What I needed were other men to push me to my best and force me to come alive as a man. More simply, I needed friends.
Fortunately, I found some, and they kept me from the manhood-killing cancers of this life. I’m not exaggerating when I say these friends have made a massive difference in my life.
Hear me well, gentlemen: we will never become the men we are called to be unless we learn the art of friendship and intentionally cultivate deep, meaningful, rowdy relationships with other men.
This is one of the most important things for a man to know.
Of the men I have studied, my favorite example of covenant friendship is Jonathan, the son of King Saul of Israel. In my view, Jonathan lived a brand of friendship that not only changed the lives of his friends but changed nations as well. It’s a high standard, but I think our friendships could have the same potential. Jonathan gives us a pattern for living out this potential.
He was a man of great spirit. I envision him as a bit of a wild man. Something about him seemed to draw boldness and nobility out of other men, and this is the key to understanding our first meaningful encounter with him in the pages of history.
We come upon Jonathan just as he is about to do something unorthodox, even insane. In the manner of big-hearted men of fiery spirit, he fully intends to talk another man into joining him in his insanity. This occurs when Israel is at war with its fiercest enemy, the Philistines. They are a people of the sea who seem unwilling to rest until they destroy Israel entirely. There is intense hatred between the two peoples, but no one hates the Philistines like Jonathan. This is why, without telling his father, Jonathan has decided to attack a Philistine garrison. Alone.
Well, almost alone. He hopes to take his armor-bearer with him. It is important to picture this moment in your mind. Jonathan is crouched down behind rocks on a cliff high above a ravine. On the opposite side of this ravine is another cliff, and upon it is a Philistine camp. Jonathan watches it closely. Finally, he has seen enough and decides to make his move.
Now most men would be happy to leave these Philistines to another day. Most men would pace around and say something stupid like “Those Philistines had better be glad this ravine is between us or I’d make them pay.”
Not Jonathan.
Instead, he turns to his armor bearer—who is probably no more than a burly teenager—and says, “Come, let’s go over to the outpost of those uncircumcised men. Perhaps the LORD will act in our behalf. Nothing can hinder the LORD from saving, whether by many or by few” (1 Samuel 14:6 NIV).
I love that Jonathan makes no false promises. Look, he says, the Lord can give us victory and he might. Or, he might not. Either way, let’s go.
His armor bearer responds to the magnetic spirit that permeates Jonathan’s life: “Do all that you have in mind,” he says. “I’m with you heart and soul” (v. 7).
Jonathan constantly elicits this kind of response from other men. He’s all in. He makes others want to be all in too. We’ll see what this means to a king and a nation in a moment.
It would make sense for Jonathan to lead his one armor bearer into the Philistine camp as quietly as possible. The whole plan is unwise, but the most he could hope for would be to do as much damage as possible before the Philistines rallied and began to overwhelm their attackers—all two of them. This, however, is not enough for Jonathan; not when the honor of Israel is at stake. Rather than remaining hidden, Jonathan decides to show himself to the Philistines. This, of course, is magnificently courageous and nuts. Why give away your position? Still, this is what Jonathan decides to do, and after he has done it, he decides to charge the Philistine camp.
It isn’t easy. He and his aide climb down the face of their cliff, they cross the ravine, and then they climb up the face of the opposite cliff, all while the Philistines are yelling, “Come up to us and we’ll teach you a lesson” (v. 12 NIV).
These taunts just make Jonathan more determined. So the two Israelites climb all the way up the face of the cliff. When they arrive at the top, the Lord is with them. They end up destroying the Philistine camp and killing twenty men.
You can imagine the bragging and celebrating in the Israelite camp later that night. It was Jonathan the troops would be celebrating. He was a man’s man, and he kept making them all proud with his astonishingly heroic deeds. We can almost hear excited soldiers talking about what kind of king Jonathan is going to make.
This brings us to the friendship that changes a king, a nation, and the world.
Sometime later, on that day when a ruddy-faced shepherd boy has killed the Philistine giant called Goliath, Jonathan is standing nearby when Saul interviews the young champion, whose name is David. The king wants to know who David is and who his people are. While David tells his story, Jonathan is taken with the spirit of the man.
Listen to what the court historians wrote of this moment: “After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself” (1 Samuel 18:1 NIV). Notice that Jonathan is drawn to the fire and the grit and the heart of David, to the spirit of God in his life, and loves him for these reasons first.
There is a lesson for us here. It is natural for our friendships to be largely about the things we do. We can have sports friends, work friends, and friends we make music with, for example. Yet covenant friendships have to be built on something more, on heart and purpose and matters of destiny. This convicted me when I first heard it. My friendships were usually thin and uninspiring. Perhaps yours are too. Thankfully, I started to realize that if I wanted friends who meshed with me at heart, with whom I could genuinely share life, I had to stop settling for friendships that were about little more than a few hours of fun and distraction. I had to do as Jonathan did—find men of spirit and devotion to God and build manly connections with them.
Jonathan isn’t the kind of man to waste time. He sees David. He’s drawn to his spirit. He loves him. He makes covenant with him. The record tells us: “Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt” (vv. 3–4 NIV).
Don’t miss what is happening here. The son of the king has just about stripped to give covenant gifts to a shepherd boy. Why? Because he “became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself.” So Jonathan initiated a friendship with covenant through sacrifice and heartfelt honor.
I imagine that two men like this do have a good deal of fun. They compete at everything from running to target practice. They probably also compete for the attention of women. They even compete for who can eat the most lamb. They laugh. They hit each other a lot. They are young champions enjoying a rowdy friendship.
Covenant is beneath it all, though, and this covenant is soon tested. David continues to be successful in battle and loved by the people. This makes King Saul insanely jealous. He begins conspiring to kill David. Notice Jonathan. Though the king is his father, Jonathan does not side with him against his covenant friend. He knows this could cost him the throne. He knows his father’s displeasure could ruin his future. Still, Jonathan has a covenant with David, and he will not break it, particularly when he knows Saul is committed to evil.
At the risk of everything that is rightfully his as the son of the king, Jonathan begins living out his costly commitment to David. First, he warns David of danger (see 1 Samuel 19:1–2). Every friendship, no matter how fun and rowdy it is, must be in part about guarding one another, about pointing out danger. Otherwise, it is no friendship. It is just two men using each other, unconcerned about each other’s well-being.
Jonathan also courageously “spoke well” of David before his father (v. 4 NIV). This is risky. Saul is enraged. He’s actually deranged. For Jonathan to defend David is sure to be seen by Saul as betrayal. Jonathan speaks up anyway. He’s entered a covenant. And he sees what God is doing with his friend.
This, too, is part of covenant friendship. You don’t betray with your words. You don’t backstab. Correction happens in private. Gossip and undercutting never happen all. This is because all friendship is a form of covenant, a bond of mutual defense and support. And manly men keep their covenants.
This covenant of friendship keeps costing Jonathan dearly. He doesn’t seem to mind. He loves his friend. He feels one with him in spirit. He knows he is meant to be part of God’s work in David’s life.
Soon, panic overtakes David. The constant pressure of Saul’s enraged pursuit overwhelms him. To calm his friend, Jonathan meets him in secret and declares, “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do for you” (1 Samuel 20:4 NIV). In other words, I’m yours. We’re in covenant. How can I serve you? I’ll do anything I can to help you.
True friends serve each other. Love, history, and honor demand it. You don’t wring your hands when a friend is in need and hope someone else steps up. You go. You do what you can. You put yourself in the service of your covenant brother.
In fact, this covenant is so important to Jonathan that he renews it right in the middle of David’s crisis (see vv. 16–17). Jonathan even expands the covenant, enlarging it from a covenant between two men to a covenant between dynasties: he covenants with the “house of David,” the record tells us. The destiny of David’s family line is in play and Jonathan pledges to support that line and defend it. Both men know what this means. Jonathan has just made a covenant to oppose his own father, even his father’s house, in which Jonathan himself is the heir apparent.
While again defending David before Saul, Jonathan nearly loses his life. His father has become a man possessed and hurls a spear at his son in a delirious fit of rage (see v. 33). We should note quickly this costly truth: true friends stand in harm’s way for each other. True friends take the hits for one another. It is cowardly to walk closely with a man to enjoy the benefits of his friendship but then abandon him when he is under attack. True friendships leave scars. Most men won’t pay this price. It is why they will always live in a sea of casual relationships and discarded friends. Genuine men stand with their friends and look on the scars that result as signs of manly honor.
In time, David grows so tormented by Saul’s conspiracies he barely realizes what Jonathan has done for him. Fear rules him. He’s undone.
It would be a very good moment for Jonathan to leave the scene. His life is in danger, and his friend seems to be losing his mind. But Jonathan will not desert his friend or his covenant. When he realizes David is being pushed to the edge by all that is arrayed against him, Jonathan goes to David to help him “find strength in God” (1 Samuel 23:16 NIV).
This is a hallmark of manly friendship. True friends, covenant friends, instill faith and strength in each other. They make each other better over time than they were at the beginning. Yet if I am left dispirited and indifferent after I have been with my friends, then they are dumping their bilge into my life rather than helping me find my strength in God. We need more if we are going to be valiant, exemplary men. This doesn’t mean there can’t be fun. It doesn’t mean every word we speak has to be from the King James Bible. We aren’t fairies floating sweetly over a field of flowers. We’re men! But the life of men together should make them better, not worse. It should not turn them from God or their wives or their duties. Instead, they should end up better, sharper, more rested, perhaps even smarter and wiser. Why not? Certainly, they should end up more eager to be genuine men.
Men help their friends find strength in God. It’s part of the covenant.
Finally, there is an astonishing moment between Jonathan and David. Jonathan, who has long before understood what God is doing, declares to David, “You will be king over Israel, and I will be second to you. Even my father Saul knows this” (v. 17 NIV).
Remember, Jonathan is the son of the king of Israel, the rightful heir to the throne. He knows, though, what God intends to do with David, and he is completely devoted to it. He surrenders his right to the throne. He tells David what David probably already knows but isn’t willing to say in front of the king’s son: David will be king. And then Jonathan tenderly adds, “and I will be second to you.”
I’m going to serve you, David. I’m going to have your back. I’m not going to flee the kingdom or lead a rebellion. I’ll be right there as your number two.
In the manner of covenant men, the two renew their covenant once again. This is the third time they have sealed themselves to each other. It is what men in friendships do. They face life together, the good and the terrifying, the hilarious and the grievous. From time to time, they make covenant together at ever-deeper levels. This is because the friendship broadens and the challenges increase. The men change. They constantly rearticulate their manly devotion to one another with ever more heartfelt covenants. This is how true men bind themselves to their friends.
I wish I could tell you that Saul dies and David becomes king and he and Jonathan live many decades as friends while they lead Israel to glory. It would be a fine ending to the story. It just didn’t happen that way. Instead, Saul and Jonathan are both killed in battle on the same day. David grieves his slain friend. Even years later he searches for some surviving member of Saul’s house to whom he can be kind in Jonathan’s memory.
It would be easy to see this as a story that does not end well. It isn’t. The truth is that God used the covenant friendship between these two men not only to fill their lives with brotherhood and love but also to position one of them among the greatest kings in history. If Jonathan could speak to us now, we would not hear him bemoan his loss and his shortened life. We would hear him celebrate the greatness David achieved and the weighty friendship that played a role in God’s great purposes.
How could we expect any less? Remember the kind of man Jonathan was: Hey, armor bearer, I know you are only supposed to carry my armor so that I can do the fighting. But just in case God decides to do a miracle, let’s scale up the face of this cliff with the enemy looking down, and let’s wipe these fellows from the face of the earth. And let’s do it after we’ve told them we’re coming. Sound good to you?
No, Jonathan wouldn’t complain. He would just wish that he could have continued at David’s side.
How do we live this out? This high and lofty friendship that shaped the course of history—is it beyond us? Is it more than men of our time can handle?
No. It is within the reach of every man. We devote ourselves to the principle that men cannot ascend to their best selves or their God-given purpose if they walk alone or if all they have in common with other men is entertainment or pleasure. Men need friends with whom they share a common spirit, a mutual devotion to each other’s best, and a sacrificial commitment to protect, encourage, and defend. Men thrive only in vital, covenantal connection to other men—only if they are the spiritual sons of Jonathan, the willing friend of a shepherd named David.
Once all of this is established, of course, it is time for the manly rowdiness to begin!