Inklings of Companionship

What do you get when you combine a group of men and a smattering of their writings read aloud? Perhaps some would say, "Male hubris at its worst." I don't think so. I tried a go of it tonight and found--as we are likely to find when in the company of other believers--not pride but humility. Along with that humility I also saw true companionship.

On the one hand, lowliness comes upon us when we become vulnerable with our thoughts, ideas, and imaginings. For academic students especially, a piece of writing is an investment of one's own self, an encapsulation of the heart and mind. To open it up for others to probe is an act of lowering one's guard, laying down the defenses. And to be so vulnerable may be a big step toward humility.

On the other hand, when men come into one another's presence with such humility, they foster companionship and love. Envy and competition are always a threat to men, who are bent by their fallen nature to compare themselves and rank who is better or worse in this or that respect. As C.S Lewis said, however, to love is to be vulnerable. Competition is killed when we lower our guards in a posture of humility, and companionship takes its place. What does it mean to be a companion? A companion is someone to whom we feel closeness, to whom we freely and vulnerably open ourselves. Literally, the word refers to a person you eat bread with. Indeed, we see that this rendering corresponds to a general phenomenon of life: we eat with those we call friends. Just think back to those days in the high school cafeteria and you will see my point. You ate with those with whom you (hopefully) felt comfortable, people with whom you joked, shared secrets, and intrusted your thoughts. On a deeper level, this is the relationship we are meant to experience as fellow children of God, as kindred sons of the Kingdom. But it can only occur when we take a risk, believing that vulnerability leads to fellowship and love.

How we take that risk can assume various forms. I personally like the way the Inklings (the reading group led by the likes of Lewis and Tolkien) did it, and I plan to continue following their model, even though my writing is qualitatively incomparable with theirs. But there I go again, always bent to compare. Alas, perhaps in writing this I will take one more step toward humility in myself, and vulnerability towards others.