An Invitation

We live in a world in which friendship is wounded. I’ve often heard the lament from other men my age that it has become well-nigh impossible to make new, close friends like the friends we have from our youth — if we are fortunate enough to have such friends. I am fortunate in this way. But for those who are coming of age in this wasteland of social media, short-form video, AI “content,” and Star Trek communicators in our pockets, I suspect, and have heard, that the experience is different and altogether more lamentable. I hear that this is the case not merely in the hothouse of the online world, but even in parishes and other face-to-face environments. Superficial acquaintances may come easy, whether the online or offline flavor; but to feel able and welcome to open our hearts to a brother or sister and put words around our soul’s joys, sorrows, questions, and desires — that is all too rare.

I have something to offer in response to this need.

In Gaelic Christianity, there is the idea of an anamchara, which in Irish means literally a “soul friend.” Nowadays such a person might be called a “spiritual director” in the western churches; in the east, this role was fulfilled by monastic elders. I cannot be either of these. But a friend to your soul, that I can be. I can listen from within the experience, the suffering, the longing, the prayer, the darkness, the beauty, and the searching with which the Lord has graced me.

The promise I make you is this: as often as you write me a handwritten letter, and post it to the address you’ll receive when you join, I will write back to you, offering you my ears, my heart, and my prayers.

Together we can do something to reclaim both friendship, and the living power of the written word.