A Friend at All Times
“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for times of trouble.” Opening “A friend loves at all times.” It is a short verse, sharp, and it seems simple. But stop for a moment and ask yourself: is it really so? Really “at all times”? You know what happens. A few years ago you had a friend. A real friend, the kind who knew everything about you. You talked every day. You sat together and talked. Then you both got married. Children came. Making a living came. Worries came. The one who used to call three times a day now calls once a month. And you feel it, sometimes without saying it out loud: something has ended. This friendship has worn thin. You have drifted apart. But the real question is the opposite one. When you drift apart in your schedules, have you drifted apart in the bond itself? Are these the same thing? The Explanation: Two Different Things There is a deep mistake here that needs explaining. Once you explain it, it is very comforting. We need to tell two things apart. On one side is the bond of love itself. On the other side is how that love shows on the outside: how often you meet, how often you talk, how often you write. The two are not the same, and they do not have to move together. When a person takes on the weight of life, with a family, a living to earn and small children, the “schedule” of a friendship changes. That is true and simple. But to say from this that the bond itself has grown weaker is a leap. Nothing forces you to make it. And indeed, King Solomon says, “A friend loves at all times.” He does not say “in every conversation” or “at every meeting.” He says at all times. That includes the times of silence. It includes the times when you seem far apart. It includes the times when the “schedule” has grown thin. The love itself, the bond itself, is there “at all times.” A Parable and an Example Two young men are real friends from school. One of them gets married. A son is born to him. He gets a job that eats up his whole week. He does not call the way he used to. He “disappears” into his own life. Is he now “less of a friend”? Of course not. He is exactly the same friend. What has changed is not the depth of the bond. Only how available he is on the outside has changed. Mixing up the two is the source of a lot of needless pain. There is more. Sometimes the rare meetings are the deeper ones. One hour of real heart-to-heart talk after months of silence is worth more than a whole month of short, shallow messages. The quiet did not kill the friendship. When the quiet ends, it shows how deep the roots go.
Putting It into Practice
Now take this further inside. Sometimes a person feels “far” from Hashem. He may be a young married man, a working man with a family, or any Jew whom life has carried wherever it carried him. He no longer prays with feeling the way he used to. He does not study Torah the way he wanted to. He is busy, occupied, swallowed up. Then a thought comes: “Maybe I have drifted away?” Remember this: the soul inside you is “a piece of Hashem above, truly.” This bond is part of who you are, and it lasts forever. It does not depend on how often it shows. Even when you are busy, even when you are swallowed up, even when you are “asleep,” the heart is awake. The bond is there. What you need to do is simply this: do not confuse the schedule with the bond itself. The “at all times” in “A friend loves at all times” is also the “at all times” of every Jew with Hashem. Less time does not mean less friendship. A true friend never ends. Sometimes he only goes into silence for a while. And the silence belongs to him too.
Questions and answers
Q: What verse from Proverbs is the essay “A Friend at All Times” built on?
Rabbi Landau answers: “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for times of trouble.”
Q: If an old friend now calls only once a month, does that mean the friendship is really over?
Rabbi Landau answers: “A friend loves at all times.” It is a short verse, sharp, and it seems simple. But stop for a moment and ask yourself: is it really so? Really “at all times”? You know what happens. A few years ago you had a friend. A real friend, the kind who knew everything about you. You talked every day. You sat together and talked. Then you both got married. Children came. Making a living came. Worries came. The one who used to call three times a day now calls once a month. And you feel it, sometimes without saying it out loud: something has ended. This friendship has worn thin. You have drifted apart. But the real question is the opposite one.
Q: What is the difference between the bond of love itself and how often friends meet or talk?
Rabbi Landau answers: There is a deep mistake here that needs explaining. Once you explain it, it is very comforting. We need to tell two things apart. On one side is the bond of love itself. On the other side is how that love shows on the outside: how often you meet, how often you talk, how often you write. The two are not the same, and they do not have to move together. When a person takes on the weight of life, with a family, a living to earn and small children, the “schedule” of a friendship changes. That is true and simple. But to say from this that the bond itself has grown weaker is a leap. Nothing forces you to make it.
Q: If a friend gets married and gets busy, is he now less of a friend?
Rabbi Landau answers: Two young men are real friends from school. One of them gets married. A son is born to him. He gets a job that eats up his whole week. He does not call the way he used to. He “disappears” into his own life. Is he now “less of a friend”? Of course not. He is exactly the same friend. What has changed is not the depth of the bond. Only how available he is on the outside has changed. Mixing up the two is the source of a lot of needless pain. There is more. Sometimes the rare meetings are the deeper ones. One hour of real heart-to-heart talk after months of silence is worth more than a whole month of short, shallow messages. The quiet did not kill the friendship.
Q: What should a Jew do when he feels far from Hashem because life has made him busy?
Rabbi Landau answers: Now take this further inside. Sometimes a person feels “far” from Hashem. He may be a young married man, a working man with a family, or any Jew whom life has carried wherever it carried him. He no longer prays with feeling the way he used to. He does not study Torah the way he wanted to. He is busy, occupied, swallowed up. Then a thought comes: “Maybe I have drifted away?” Remember this: the soul inside you is “a piece of Hashem above, truly.” This bond is part of who you are, and it lasts forever. It does not depend on how often it shows. Even when you are busy, even when you are swallowed up, even when you are “asleep,” the heart is awake. The bond is there.