Beer Goggles

Two of my best friends here in Florida are a guy named Mike, and another named Greg.

Mike is a New Yorker that bought a condo across the street. He smokes like a chimney, talks like a NY mobster, and drops an f-bomb every other word. We ride motorcycles together, help each other fix stuff, and drink beer on my porch, or at the beach.

Greg is a CEO of a chocolate company. He bought a house just down the street. He and his wife helped us out when Martha and I had Covid, and we're laid up for several weeks. Greg's traveled 40 minutes to help me jump start my car. I've watched his dog, and helped him take stuff to the dump. He likes to hang out every now and again in his garage, just chatting and drinking beer.

With both men, our mutual interest in beer seemed to be why we hit it off. Neither are big into Jesus, but neither stopped hanging out with me because I said something about Jesus that they didn't like, or want to hear...and I do talk about Him every now and again to both.

No, our mutual interest is enough to stay friends. The other actions, of being there when needed is just a bonus, a side effect of their friendship.

Beer. I like beer, but I love Jesus. If Jesus even remotely said, "stop drinking beer" I would...in an instant.

He hasn't.

Still, Jesus is awesome. God in time. The greatest person to ever exist. It then seems to me that anyone else who has a thing for Jesus would find a connection, common ground, enough to also be friends with me!

It seems to me that this very similar interest should also generate a greater friendship! One that if I needed help, they would come...even faster than Mike or Greg.

Yet, they don't.

Why is that?

It makes me wonder if they really don't like beer as much as they say...

Oh, I do have friends that do, one name Lee, and a few in NH. Still, it's such a small number that the passage "few will find it" begins to make sense.