For some reason, I thought of Aristotle when a young couple came to me to be civilly married, in particular how, in his Nichomachean Ethics, he discusses the nature of love and friendship.
For him there are three kinds of friends. Those who wish the other well, those who love for the other’s utility, and those who love for the sake of pleasure. Aristotle remarks that “those who love for the sake of utility love for the sake of what is good for themselves, and those who love for the sake of pleasure do so for the sake of what is pleasant to themselves, and not in so far as the other is the person loved but in so far as he is useful or pleasant.” These friendships are merely “incidental” and “easily dissolved.”
Aristotle declares, “Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good, and alike in virtue; for these wish well alike to each other qua good, and they are good themselves.”
Hence, to Aristotle true friendship and love are possible only to those who are in character good, who wish each other well and accord benefits to each other by reason of their own goodness, which is an enduring thing, it being their nature.
Obviously friendships of this type are uncommon.
“But it is natural that such friendships should be infrequent; for such men are rare. Further, such friendship requires time and familiarity; as the proverb says, men cannot know each other till they have ‘eaten salt together’; nor can they admit each other to friendship or be friends till each has been found lovable and been trusted by each. Those who quickly show the marks of friendship to each other wish to be friends, but are not friends unless they both are lovable and know the fact; for a wish for friendship may arise quickly, but friendship does not.”
In the Gospel of John, Jesus speaks of another kind of friendship, of the love that he requires of his disciples— “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.”
This love is to be the mark of his followers: “This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” Jesus adds.
If Aristotle holds that real love and friendship are possible only between two morally virtuous people, Jesus makes the love he prescribes obligatory on his followers, irrespective of who the other person is, whether he is an enemy or the wretched of the earth—“Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”
As yardstick for genuine love and friendship, Aristotle uses moral excellence, something larger than, and which is both inclusive and outside of, the relationship—a third something, “a transcendent third.”
To this, Aristotle ascribes the permanence of the relationship. If not for it, our treatment of others will remain a matter of convenience and comfort, dependent on what we can get out of the relationship, which therefore will continue only for as long as it has its uses. Therefore, the need for something or someone to pull us out of ourselves. Which to Aristotle is virtue, and to Jesus, self-giving love.
In fact, this “transcendent third” is Jesus himself, the love of whom draws us to the love of others. And he put his money where his mouth was—he showed us, and left no doubt as to what he meant by, “as I have loved you.” The right interpretation of which the American social activist Dorothy Day found in the oft-quoted saying, “You love God just as much as the one you love least.”
What a lovely pair, I thought, looking at the couple. I wondered what Aristotle would tell them—he would likely give his approval because they looked virtuous, although the girl was a little pregnant. I knew what advice Jesus would give them. But first they had to believe in him and feel his presence before they could hear him. I did not see a Best Man during the ceremony, which was summary and simple. But they sure could do with a Third Man.