Introduction

This book investigates questions of friendship from the perspective of practical theology, with specific consideration given to practices of friendship and to the social and theological imagination. Through this research I argue that friendship is essential for flourishing and for an ideal of multidimensional private-public friendship that overflows into social friendship, civic friendship, and reform. I advocate for the nurture of Spirit-shaped friendships and friendship-shaped communities, that is, of friendships that are shaped by the Spirit and of communities that are shaped by attitudes and actions of friendship. Such friendships include extended family and family-like relationships. Our actions and attitudes affect a broader community than our immediate circle. Relational practices and the creative, proactive nurturing of various dimensions of friendship have a multigenerational effect. Friendship is precious not only for its own sake but for the sake of further generations and ought to be intentionally built up between persons, communities, and people-groups.

Rather than being in opposition to God or love of neighbor, friendship provides an alternative way of understanding relationship with God and neighbor and has a long and rich history in and beyond Western Christianity. Moreover, in explicitly Christian contexts, an overarching theological narrative of friendship may serve to shape and ground all else.

Contemporary communities stand to gain immensely from reincorporating understandings and practices of earlier times and, no less, from Indigenous understandings of kinship and friendship. Indigenous perspectives remind us that relationality is inherent to the fabric of the universe.1 Friendship is a practice through and by which we may build genuinely mutual relationships with people who are other, unlearn internalized colonial patterns, and decolonize founding and formative stories.

I begin by introducing myself and acknowledging my social context. Maori, the Indigenous people of Aotearoa New Zealand, traditionally introduce themselves with a greeting that links them to their ancestors and to the land by identifying their tribal mountain and waters, by naming the canoe on which their ancestors came to Aotearoa, and by acknowledging their extended family, clan, and tribe.2 My knowledge of my own heritage is poor by comparison.

My ancestors immigrated to Aotearoa primarily from England, including Guernsey, as well as from Scotland, Ireland, France, Denmark, the United States, and the Reunion Islands. They arrived from 1842 onwards, settling in a variety of locations including Motueka, Blenheim, and the lower North Island. The earliest arrivals I know of are the Newport family from Buckinghamshire on The Sir Charles Forbes and the Kinzett family from Warwickshire, on The Thomas Harrison, both into Nelson, and the Dodge family from Wiltshire into Wellington on The Clifton, all in 1842.3

I do not know specific ways in which my primarily working-class ancestors contributed to the oppressive colonization of Aotearoa. I do know that at the turn of the century my mother's great-grandparents, John Marple and Evangeline Tindill, lived amongst Maori in 'Ruatoki, a community with a long history of resistance to colonization in the Bay of Plenty. Their granddaughter, Nellie Hunter, my Nana, spoke Maori fluently as a child growing up in this region. Sadly, she lost this knowledge once her family moved to the city.

Tamaki Makaurau (Auckland) is where my early formation took place. The landscape of Te Upoko o Te Ika a Maui (the head of the fish of Maui, the Wellington region), most specifically Te Awa Kairangi (the Hutt Valley), contributed to my formation as a young adult.

As a descendant of settlers, I bring cultural blind spots to this work. I come to this research having experienced the joys and challenges of friendships in four different countries. I have experienced cross-cultural friendships in contexts where I am a visible minority and an invisible minority. I have also experienced such friendships as part of the majority culture. Despite these diverse experiences, I have not been part of a people group that has been radically discriminated against, enslaved, or colonized. While I have experienced some forms of discrimination, I have not experienced friendship that has endangered my life, nor have I been deprived of friendship (personal or civic) or of land stewardship on the basis of my skin color or ethnic background.

As further outlined in Chapter 2, the colonial legacy in Aotearoa, including the dishonoring of Te Tiriti o Waitangi (The Treaty of Waitangi), has negatively impacted friendship possibilities. Nevertheless, I have been privileged to learn from the wisdom, hospitality, and spirituality of Maori and Polynesian friends, and to develop an awareness of Maori, bicultural, and Treaty issues. Learning has taken place through conversations, course work, reading, participation in a variety of noho marae (overnight marae stays) and hui (gatherings),4 and through conversations and collaboration with Maori friends.5 While in my previous roles as a teacher and educational consultant I sought to honor Maori and Te Tiriti through supporting teachers of full immersion Maori language classes, learning and using basic conversational Maori, and developing bicultural teaching practices, there are gaps in my knowledge and practice. Conversations associated with this research have provoked a determination to address these gaps, and to work towards becoming increasingly bilingual and bicultural as I seek to live out a practical theology of friendship.

At the time of writing, I live with my immediate family on unceded Coast Salish territory by the Salish Sea, on the colonized continent known to many Indigenous people as Turtle Island. Here it has been a privilege to learn from Indigenous people, including Cheryl Bear (Nadleh Whut'en), Raymond Aldred (Cree), and Graydon Nicholas (Maliseet), and to learn from and with the NAIITS Indigenous Learning Community. Yet another invaluable learning experience relevant to this work was participation in the 2019 International Academy of Practical Theology conference in São Leopoldo, Brazil, with its theme of (De)coloniality and Religious Practices: Liberating Hope.

I am aware that any proposed practical theology of friendship must reckon with the social imagination(s) operative in its contexts that perpetuate fear of and discrimination against the other and that hinder the cultivation of personal and civic friendship within communities of practice. My focus within this work is primarily on developing a transformative ideal to be worked towards. I acknowledge there are very real challenges in pursuing personal and public ideals.

I engage diverse voices as I seek to develop a rich and thick theological understanding of friendship. At times breadth is privileged over depth. This breadth is not inappropriate, given that the social imagination is formed and informed by diverse voices and sources. In fact, a more thorough practical theology of friendship would include even greater diversity. While my research predominantly draws on Western sources, traditions, disciplines, and epistemologies, I also seek to weave in Indigenous perspectives.

This introductory chapter outlines the context for this research by providing an overview of practical theology, discussing understandings of the word practice, identifying the importance of the social and theological imagination, and outlining the methodology and structure of this research. But firstly, why would I want to study friendship? Why develop a practical theology of friendship?

Why Friendship?

As I write, with minimized social contact and physical distancing requirements in place throughout much of the world as we collaboratively seek to protect our communities during a pandemic, our human need for connectivity and friendship has become all too evident. In early April 2020, after our first few weeks of "lockdown," my ten-year-old son, an avid reader, protested to me that "books and videos are poor substitutes for friends." I agreed with him. While adults have been able to maintain relationships and even forge new friendships through online forms of connectivity, some relationships have become stressed or neglected due to dependence on technology. Younger and older generations are discovering anew a need for the physical presence of others. Despite the emotional cost of isolation, friendship as a basic human need is not consistently recognized. For example, during the second lockdown in Victoria, Australia, an exemption to lockdown could be made for an "intimate relationship," but for those who lived alone without such a relationship, no similar exemption was allowed for friendship.6 This restriction was subsequently modified to allow for visits with one "bubble" friend, though not without controversy. In Canada also, friendships have been vulnerable to "the divisive vagueness of provincial guidelines," with some health messaging suggesting that, at least as far as the state is concerned, friendships are not important.7

The widespread need for social and civic friendship has also become all too evident as the pandemic has disproportionally impacted People of Color and been further highlighted by the violent deaths of People of Color due to the discrimination of police officers and other citizens in the United States and Canada. Ongoing deaths and injuries have highlighted systemic racism and provoked widespread...