True Friendship, or Friendly Sales Pitch?

I recently reread some of George Alder's short essays written for The Lookout in the early 1980s. In my early pastoral ministry days--my "previous life"--I collected several dozen of his "A Minute With George Alder" columns and have held on to them all these years. Alder was one of my favorite professors at San Jose Bible College (now William Jessup University) where he taught Greek and homiletics among other courses. A godly, learned, gentle-spirited man, he astounded us young Greek students by reading directly from the Greek New Testament, translating into English, even when he preached at chapel. He was an avid outdoorsman and a strong advocate for the careful stewardship of the earth and its natural resources. A gentleman and a scholar was he and, in many ways, a true renaissance man.

In one article, titled "The Friendly Sales Pitch," he recounts the time he and his wife, Eileen, were visiting in London and were given a bus tour of the city, then treated to a fine lunch at the London Hilton, which was followed by a sales pitch from a young salesman who wanted him and Mrs. Alder to buy land in Florida (of all places) sight unseen! Throughout the presentation, the salesman was as friendly and affable as can be, even calling George and Eileen by their first names. At the climax of the presentation, when it was clear the time had come for the Alders to make the obviously intelligent decision to buy some property, Professor Alder said, "'Well, as attractive as this all may sound, we wouldn't put a dime down on a piece of land anywhere without seeing it.'" Suddenly, the salesman's demeanor changed from warm and friendly to cold and abrupt. He was done with the Alders and summarily dismissed them saying, "'I think you can find your way out!'"

Mr. Alder went on to write that "much of human acceptance, open friendliness, and offers of great advantage is just bait to lead us into an entrapment to enhance someone else's situation." His point wasn't that we should resist all overtures of friendliness, but that we have to "develop sufficient perception to sort out true friendship and brotherliness." And, more important, that we need to be careful not to manipulate others for selfish purposes. God's love should be our motivation in all our interactions.

Many years ago when I was first starting in full-time ministry as an associate pastor, the senior minister's wife confided how hard it had been for her husband to develop close relationships with the church members. She believed it was because the previous pastor never phoned or visited folks unless he needed something from them. Even when he inquired into their well-being as a loving, concerned shepherd of the flock, he always seemed to have an agenda: he needed something from them or wanted them to do something for the church. In other words, his interest felt manipulative and utilitarian. His unspoken message was, "I'll care about you as a person ... as long as you can give me something I need. If not, well, see ya later -- I think you can find your way out!"

Sometimes it's hard to know even our own motives for being friendly or nice to people. Are we really concerned about them as individuals and in getting to know them as interesting human beings who have fascinating stories to share? Are we looking for common areas of interest to serve as contact points in potential friendships? Or, are we like the salesman in London who played the "friendly game" because he hoped to use the relationship to selfish ends? Do we invest in others to earn some sort of "return," and when that return--whatever it may be--appears to be slow in coming, do we summarily dismiss them?

Alder concluded his column with these words: "What a loss it would be to miss all the good that comes to us from others or to have every attempt we make to help others rejected. Christian love and friendship is never social manipulation. Its motivation is God's love."