In order for the Fellowship of the Rings to enter the mines of Moria through the West-door, they had to solve a riddle which was not posed as a riddle at all. Above the entrance carved in stone were the words, ‘Speak Friend and Enter.’ Eventually, with the help of a simple question by one of the hobbits in attendance, Merry Brandybuck, the wizard Gandalf realized all he had to do was say ‘Friend’ and the gates would open. Of course, he had to say it in the language of the time which Tolkien nerds like Steven Colbert would tell you was Sindarin.
(Should stumble upon the door and the waters which the Watcher watched have receded, the word is ‘Mellon’ not to be confused with Mellors who, of course, was Lady Chatterly’s lover of another time and another fiction.)
It is well established in fact and fiction then that ‘Friend’ is a powerful word. The Quakers name their own fellowships ‘Friends’ and it is to this latter reference I begin my tale. It began with a phone call. We were working on creating a new connector trail between the Cope Environmental Center in Centerville, Indiana to the Duning Woods property of the Whitewater Valley Land Trust aka, our hero.
In making my first call to our grant writer, whose name will remain anonymous, she answered, “Hello friend.” This to me was remarkable, bold and, yes, even universally friendly. Since I had never called her before, she didn’t know who I was from Adam, who may or may not be a friend, depending on your viewpoint and/or religion. And yet she answered ‘Friend.’
I was emboldened by this simple greeting, not less because of the stigma placed upon the word during my travels in the netherworld of Metamora where as late as February 25, 2021 ‘Trump 2020’ flags fly from way too many flagpoles and porches. There a man who had served as my mentor on the ancient history of the Whitewater Valley once corrected me when I referred to him as my friend. He said, “Gary and I are neighbors.” Funny how that little correction has twisted my perception of what a friend is. From then on I have been reluctant to call someone my friend. But when I moved to Richmond things slowly began to change.
First of all, my new house. On the front steps was painted in red letters ‘Welcome Friends.’ But the lettering had been obscured with a dash of white paint. I could only imagine that one owner was a friend-loving Quaker, while the next was one for whom the word was a caution, like my mentor. (As of this day, and when the weather allows, I hereby promise to repaint in the original red, ‘Welcome Friends’ of my second step but one from the top.)
Obviously, I am emboldened by our grant writer’s friendly greeting. It set off a series of thoughts that in themselves were mental actions like little warriors breaking down and healing the sad affects of what my mentor had wrought. On our next call I greeted her with, “Hello friend.” She reciprocated in kind with the same words. It made me smile. It made me happy. Like I said, and in truth, ‘Friend’ is a powerful word.
When used together as a greeting, via phone or otherwise, it serves the same function as ‘Namaste’ and is probably as misunderstood. When westerners see someone putting his or her hands together in the mudra and making the little bow that goes with it, they think the bower is somehow subservient, as if they are bowing to their master. Oddly enough, they are right. They just don’t know how. So let me explain.
‘Namaste’ with its attendant bow is actually acknowledging the presence of the Self in the other which is the same Self as in the principal. It says, ‘I recognize the God in you, and bow to He/She/It. (God is all those things and more.)
When a Quaker greets you with, “Hello friend,” there is that same recognition and, in my case, it serves as a healing agent for the efforts of those who would distort the greater love with the many possibilities of misunderstanding.
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