The past few months have had too many conversations with students, friends and myself regarding the sloppy, unusually destructive world of guy/girl “Christian friendships” (I specify Christian because I’ve not found those choosing otherwise to consider chastity, purity, or “guarding their hearts,” to the degree of we holy rollers).  Granted, it’s different in different life-stages, and done for different reasons, and done differently in different regions (ENOUGH of the plays on words), but at the end of the day, “Christian guy/girl relationships” are still one of the weakest areas of today’s Bridal gallery.

One of my professors calls it “emotional penetration.”  In so many words, it’s the often selfish, almost always self-gratifying, notion of emotionally engaging with a member of the opposite sex, to the degree that you leave, or are left, with a residue of greater longing and gross amounts of heart intimacy, sans any commitment.  It’s as though we rate ourselves as being so caked with purity and self-control physically, that we figure a little emotional icing won’t harm the halo.  Whether it’s talking on the phone till wee hours, or sharing meals five times a week, it’s this idea of “emotionally dating” and kidding yourself that, “I really don’t like him…he’s just a friend!”  (When I ask the person at this point what happens when their “friend” starts dating someone (else), the conversation always turns a lot more intersting.)  It seems like the best of both worlds...you get to be flirty and flamboyant, while avoiding risk and heartbreak, right?  Wrong.  I’ve found these emotionally intimate and penetrating friendships to be even more painful than those where “dating” was owned and commitment had a necessary degree of meaning.

There’s a cauldron of thought and theory and need for more answers here, but for tonight, I'm gonna leave the cauldron open.  Irishman musician, Damien Rice, lyrics this quandary in a deeply meaningful way.  His voice cries loud at the loss of a friend and lover, and his heart cries even louder at the cost of feeling used (by her emotional and physical needs) in her process.  The heart is a delicate vessel—a wellspring of worth and worthy of delicate guarding and deliberate honesty.

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?