What It Really Means to Be a Friend of Jesus
- Gary L Ellis

- Aug 26
- 4 min read

“I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything I learned from my Father I have made known to you.”
For the disciples, this wasn’t just sweet talk. This was paradigm-breaking. They’d grown up revering Moses, David, and the prophets, all proudly named “servants of God.” To serve the Almighty was the highest honor.
And yet here’s Jesus saying, “That’s not enough anymore.” He was rewriting the job description.
Servants Knew Their Place
In their world, a servant didn’t need explanations. They needed obedience. Orders, not intimacy. A servant could be close to the master’s work but far from the master’s heart.
That’s the line Jesus erases. He says, “You’re not kept in the dark anymore. You’re not outsiders peeking in. Your friends.”
It was as if He pulled them from the kitchen where they’d been laboring and sat them down in the living room with Him.
Friendship in Their World
Here’s where cultural context matters. Friendship wasn’t casual in the ancient world. It wasn’t built on convenience or common hobbies.
In Jewish tradition, friendship was covenantal. Proverbs 18:24 describes a friend who “sticks closer than a brother.”
Think of David and Jonathan — binding themselves together in loyalty, even when family ties should’ve pulled them apart.
Jonathan gave David his royal robe and weapons, symbols of trust that said, “My life is yours if you need it.” That’s friendship in their language.
In the Greco-Roman world, Aristotle taught that friendship was one of the highest virtues — “one soul in two bodies.” Cicero later wrote that a true friend was someone you would sacrifice yourself for.
“Friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief.” — Cicero
So when Jesus said, “I call you friends,” He wasn’t being sentimental. He was stepping into that thick cultural meaning: covenant, loyalty, shared life, even sacrifice.
The Radical Reframe
And here’s what makes it shocking: this wasn’t just one man telling his buddies they were close. This was God-in-the-flesh speaking. The One who commanded storms and healed blind eyes.
The same God whose glory shook Mount Sinai now looks ordinary fishermen in the eye and says, “I call you friends.”
Wrap your head around that. The God who was too holy for Moses to see fully now sits at a table and says, “I’ve told you everything. No secrets. No locked doors.”
That was considered scandalous intimacy.
Why Friendship Changes Everything
Think about the difference between servants and friends.
A servant works but doesn’t know the why. They get instructions, not insight. A friend gets trusted with the inside story. A friend knows the why behind the what.
That’s the line Jesus was drawing. He wasn’t recruiting laborers for a religious machine. He was opening the Father’s heart and saying, “You’re in on this with me.”
So maybe faith isn’t about clocking in at heaven’s factory. Maybe it’s about walking with a Friend who shares His deepest thoughts.
Friendship Has Weight
But don’t miss this: friendship isn’t cheap. Servants can stop at obedience. Friends stay loyal.
That’s why betrayal stings so deeply. When Judas betrayed Jesus, it wasn’t just a servant disobeying. It was a so-called friend handing Him over.
In their culture, breaking a friendship was worse than breaking the law.
So Jesus’s words in John 15:15 carry both grace and gravity. Grace — because we’re invited into friendship. Gravity — because friendship means trust, responsibility, and faithfulness.
For Us Today
If your faith feels mechanical — just a checklist of “read, pray, go to church, behave” — maybe that’s because you’ve been living like a servant. Servants get the chores. Friends get the couch.
Jesus doesn’t just want your work. He wants your company.
He doesn’t just want your obedience. He wants your presence.
That changes how you pray. You’re not filing requests. You’re talking to a Friend. It changes how you worship. You’re not appeasing a boss — you’re delighting in Someone who already delights in you.
Living Into the Friendship
Here’s a shift I’ve had to learn: instead of always praying, “Lord, what do you want me to do today?” maybe start asking, “Lord, what’s on Your heart today?”
That’s a friend’s question. A servant just looks for orders. A friend leans in for intimacy.
And the good news? Jesus doesn’t tire of that. He invites it. Over and over.
Why It Still Matters
So here’s the staggering truth: You are Jesus’ friend. Not just His servant. Not just His project. Not even just God’s child. His friend.
He knows your scars and still pulls you close. He knows your failures and still calls you trustworthy. That’s the breathtaking privilege tucked into one verse: “I no longer call you servants…but friends.”
One Last Question
So let me leave you with this: have you been living like a servant — dutiful but distant — or like a friend who dares to sit down and lean in?
Because the invitation is still open. The table is still set. And the Friend who said those words long ago is still saying them now.





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