When I spoke with my daughter I tried to say the things that any good parent would say. I stressed to her the importance of picking her friends carefully. I told her that a true friend would never purposely ask her to do something that might get her in trouble. I told her that friends will come and go, but she will always have to look at herself in the mirror. I told her that if she stands for what she knows is right, she might risk losing a few friends along the way, but the ones she keeps will be stronger and deeper because she did. Basically, I wanted her to understand that being a true friend takes courage.
Proverbs 27:17 tells us that “as iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of His friend.”
It’s a beautiful word picture for the type of friends we should have and the purpose for which God has designed them.
Iron, of course, is a very hard substance. It is unyielding. It doesn’t bend easily. The image that this passage in Proverbs brings to mind is one of two swords, both made of iron, being swiftly stroked together for the purpose of sharpening.
It takes some skill to master the technique of sharpening blades this way. The blades have to be stroked at just the correct angle or there is risk of actually doing more damage than good. Carelessly clashing one blade against the other or gliding them across each other at two steep of an angle can mar the blade, causing more nicks and imperfections than were there already. However, done correctly, and with care, just the opposite will occur.
Initially the friction needed to sharpen the blades can seem rather rough. The blades can actually bounce away from each other as imperfections are encountered and confronted. But the persistent act of applying just the right degree of pressure at the correct angle will gradually yield a razor-like sharpness in both blades. It’s a beautiful process to behold for anyone who has seen it done.
It’s a beautiful process to behold in a friendship as well.
These are the types of friends we need in our lives. Friends, whose values, like iron are solid and unbending. Friends who care enough about us to sharpen us and allow us to sharpen them. That’s the kind of friendship of which this passage speaks.
Unfortunately, there are friends who are more like polishing cloths than iron swords. Those who maintain their relationships by glossing over problems or polishing fragile egos. “If I just show them enough love,” this type of friend might say, “maybe they will change.” “It’s a God job.”
It goes without saying that no amount of polishing will make a sword any sharper. The sword being polished might look prettier; it might have a nice shine, but that’s about it. Over time, constant polishing will actually have a dulling affect on the blade. The edge will deteriorate if not sharpened properly. And we all know what eventually happens to the cloth used to give it this pretty finish. It will inevitably become dirty and tattered and outlive it’s usefulness. Once used up, it will be tossed away only to be replaced by another just like it.
We’ve probably all known a sword polisher at one time or another. Maybe we’ve even been that person. It’s the person who bends and compromises their own standard of behavior rather than make waves. They might engage in hurtful gossip. They might laugh along with inappropriate or crass jokes; perhaps even telling a few themselves. They might use language that as a Christian they wouldn’t normally use. The sword polisher could be the person who, seeing a friend involved in behavior destructive to themselves or others, neglects to go to them for fear of straining the relationship. So they remain quiet, glossing over it, hoping the situation will resolve itself on it’s own. They hope that if they just show enough love to the person, set the right example, God will somehow reveal to the friend the error of his or her ways.
Galations 6:1 tells us that if our brother is overtaken in a trespass that we should restore them in the spirit of meekness. As Christians, God gives us the gift of friendship so that we can be tools in His hands to sharpen each other. We are to be iron swords, not polishing cloths. If we truly do love our friend, when we see them being overtaken in a trespass, we will be willing to risk momentary friction and discomfort, even separation, in our effort to restore them. If done in the spirit of meekness, with the right motivation, with care, we will be sharpened in the process as well.
It takes courage to be this kind of friend. It’s the kind of courage I spoke about with my daughter as she stood before me teary eyed last week. She was obviously sorry for the mistake she had made. I was encouraged that what I was telling her seemed to have a positive impact. Usually when I launch into lecture mode with my children I’m met with glazed eyes. This time I noticed what I can only interpret as resolve to not make the same mistake again. It’s that kind of steely resolve that’s perfect for sharpening.