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Not a faint memory, buthappening right here and now, spiritual livingtakes place in the present; the Spirit meets us inthe ordinary. These inspirational reflections byHenri Nouwen succeed in convincing us thatGod’s presence is reliable.
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Seitenzahl: 172
HENRI J. M. NOUWEN
A Crossroad Book
The Crossroad Publishing Company
New York
The Crossroad Publishing Company
www.crossroadpublishing.com
© 1994 by the Estate of Henri J. M. Nouwen
“Guide for Reflection” © 2003 by The Crossroad Publishing Company
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ISBN: 9780824519674
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Acknowledgments
Preface
Chapter ILIVING IN THE PRESENT
One: A New Beginning
Two: Without “Oughts” and “Ifs”
Three: Birthdays
Four: Here and Now
Five: Our Inner Room
Six: With Others
Seven: The Hub of Life
Chapter IIJOY
One: Joy and Sorrow
Two: The Choice
Three: Speaking about the Sun
Four: Surprised by Joy
Five: Joy and Laughter
Six: No Victims
Seven: The Fruit of Hope
Eight: Beyond Wishes
Chapter IIISUFFERING
One: Embracing the Pain
Two: A Meal on a Tombstone
Three: A Fellowship of the Weak
Four: Beyond Individualism
Five: Our Desire for Communion
Six: Stepping over Our Wounds
Seven: Faithful to Our Vocation
Eight: The Way of the Dalai Lama
Nine: The Hurts of Love
Chapter IVCONVERSION
One: The Spirit of Love
Two: Turn Around
Three: Answer from Above
Four: Invitation to Conversion
Five: Why AIDS?
Six: The Reverse Mission
Seven: God’s Questions
Eight: The Burden of Judgment
Nine: Claiming God’s Love
Chapter VDISCIPLINED LIVING
One: Living for the Gold
Two: A Clear Goal
Three: Eternal Life
Four: Spiritual Reading
Five: Reading Spiritually
Six: In Search of Meaning
Chapter VITHE SPIRITUAL LIFE
One: The Still Small Voice
Two: Do You Love Me?
Three: From Fatalism to Faith
Four: Under the Cross
Five: The Grateful Life
Six: The Blessings from the Poor
Seven: Adam’s Gift
Eight: Two by Two
Chapter VIIPRAYER
One: Mother Teresa’s Answer
Two: From Worrying to Prayer
Three: From Mind to Heart
Four: Nothing Is Wanting!
Five: Contemplating the Gospel
Six: Pictures on Our Inner Walls
Seven: A Spiritual Milieu
Chapter VIIICOMPASSION
One: From Competition to Compassion
Two: Being the Beloved
Three: Downward Mobility
Four: The Secret Gift of Compassion
Five: Right Where We Are
Six: Suffering with Others
Seven: Together in Silence
Eight: Giving and Receiving
Nine: The Gift of Self-Confrontation
Ten: God’s Heart
Chapter IXFAMILY
One: Leaving Father and Mother
Two: Free to Follow Jesus
Three: Forgiveness and Gratitude
Four: Many Mothers and Fathers
Five: To Be Forgiven
Six: Children Are Gifts
Seven: The Pain of Love
Eight: Our Worrying Minds
Chapter XRELATIONSHIPS
One: Complexity of Intimacy
Two: To Be Called Together
Three: Living Witnesses of God’s Love
Four: Revealing God’s Faithfulness
Five: Living Discipleship Together
Six: Choosing Our Friends
Chapter XIWHO WE ARE
One: We Are God’s Beloved Children
Two: Claiming Our Belovedness
Three: The Discipline of Prayer
Four: No Victims of Clock-Time
Five: Preparing for Death
Six: Going Home
Afterword
Guide for Reflection
About the Author
About the Publisher
Three friends have helped me very much in the preparation of this book: Kathy Christie, who typed and retyped the manuscript in many ways and forms, Conrad Wieczorek, who spent much time editing the text, and Bob Heller, who chose the themes and gave the book its final structure. I am deeply grateful for their competence, kindness, and generosity.
Special thanks go to Peggy McDonnell, her family, and friends, who, in memory of Murray McDonnell, offered me all the necessary support to find the time and place to write these meditations.
Finally I want to express my deep gratitude to Bart and Patricia Gavigan and to Franz and Reny Johna for always offering me a safe home away from home.
One day I simply sat down behind my desk and began to write down thoughts and feelings that emerged from my mind and heart. Except for the Bible, I had no other books to quote from. Once I had started I was surprised how easy it was to keep writing. It seemed as if each thought called forth another thought and each feeling gave birth to another feeling. It became a long examination of conscience, an extended personal statement of faith, and a series of glimpses into the kingdom of God. I found I was writing about myself, my friends and family, and my God, all connected in many intricate ways.
Much of what I have written has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, much too, has come to my spiritual awareness during the last few years, and much appeared as new and surprising as I wrote these meditations. I didn’t try to be original, but to be authentic. I didn’t try to say things I had never said before, but things that really matter to me. I didn’t try to write a new book, but to meditate on life as I am trying to live it. Some of the reflections in this book can also be found in earlier books; others are new. But all are an expression of my present state of mind and heart.
The various meditations in this book stand on their own. They can be read independently of each other. Still I have tried to weave the different meditations around some larger themes, so that when read together, a coherent vision of the spiritual life becomes visible. It is like a mosaic: each little stone has a unique significance, but together, and seen from a certain distance, they show something new that each individual stone cannot show.
I hope and pray that you who read these meditations will discover many connections with your own spiritual journey, even when that journey is very different from my own. I trust that these connections will make you aware that we are traveling together toward the Light, always encouraging each other to keep our eyes fixed on the One who is calling us home.
A new beginning! We must learn to live each day, each hour, yes, each minute as a new beginning, as a unique opportunity to make everything new. Imagine that we could live each moment as a moment pregnant with new life. Imagine that we could live each day as a day full of promises. Imagine that we could walk through the new year always listening to a voice saying to us: “I have a gift for you and can’t wait for you to see it!” Imagine.
Is it possible that our imagination can lead us to the truth of our lives? Yes, it can! The problem is that we allow our past, which becomes longer and longer each year, to say to us: “You know it all; you have seen it all, be realistic; the future will be just another repeat of the past. Try to survive it as best you can.” There are many cunning foxes jumping on our shoulders and whispering in our ears the great lie: “There is nothing new under the sun . . . don’t let yourself be fooled.”
When we listen to these foxes, they eventually prove themselves right: our new year, our new day, our new hour become flat, boring, dull, and without anything new.
So what are we to do? First, we must send the foxes back to where they belong: in their foxholes. And then we must open our minds and our hearts to the voice that resounds through the valleys and hills of our life saying: “Let me show you where I live among my people. My name is ‘God-with-you.’ I will wipe away all the tears from your eyes; there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness. The world of the past has gone” (see Revelation 21:2–5).
We must choose to listen to that voice, and every choice will open us a little more to discover the new life hidden in the moment, waiting eagerly to be born.
It is hard to live in the present. The past and the future keep harassing us. The past with guilt, the future with worries. So many things have happened in our lives about which we feel uneasy, regretful, angry, confused, or, at least, ambivalent. And all these feelings are often colored by guilt. Guilt that says: “You ought to have done something other than what you did; you ought to have said something other than what you said.” These “oughts” keep us feeling guilty about the past and prevent us from being fully present to the moment.
Worse, however, than our guilt are our worries. Our worries fill our lives with “What ifs”: “What if I lose my job, what if my father dies, what if there is not enough money, what if the economy goes down, what if a war breaks out?” These many “ifs” can so fill our mind that we become blind to the flowers in the garden and the smiling children on the streets, or deaf to the grateful voice of a friend.
The real enemies of our life are the “oughts” and the “ifs.” They pull us backward into the unalterable past and forward into the unpredictable future. But real life takes place in the here and the now. God is a God of the present. God is always in the moment, be that moment hard or easy, joyful or painful. When Jesus spoke about God, he always spoke about God as being where and when we are. “When you see me, you see God. When you hear me you hear God.” God is not someone who was or will be, but the One who is, and who is for me in the present moment. That’s why Jesus came to wipe away the burden of the past and the worries for the future. He wants us to discover God right where we are, here and now.
Birthdays need to be celebrated. I think it is more important to celebrate a birthday than a successful exam, a promotion, or a victory. Because to celebrate a birthday means to say to someone: “Thank you for being you.” Celebrating a birthday is exalting life and being glad for it. On a birthday we do not say: “Thanks for what you did, or said, or accomplished.” No, we say: “Thank you for being born and being among us.”
On birthdays we celebrate the present. We do not complain about what happened or speculate about what will happen, but we lift someone up and let everyone say: “We love you.”
I know a friend who, on his birthday, is picked up by his friends, carried to the bathroom, and thrown clothes and all into a tub full of water. Everyone eagerly awaits his birthday, even he himself. I have no idea where this tradition came from, but to be lifted up and “re-baptized” seems like a very good way to have your life celebrated. We are made aware that although we have to keep our feet on the ground, we are created to reach to the heavens, and that, although we easily get dirty, we can always be washed clean again and our life given a new start.
Celebrating a birthday reminds us of the goodness of life, and in this spirit we really need to celebrate people’s birthdays every day, by showing gratitude, kindness, forgiveness, gentleness, and affection. These are ways of saying: “It’s good that you are alive; it’s good that you are walking with me on this earth. Let’s be glad and rejoice. This is the day that God has made for us to be and to be together.”
To live in the present, we must believe deeply that what is most important is the here and the now. We are constantly distracted by things that have happened in the past or that might happen in the future. It is not easy to remain focused on the present. Our mind is hard to master and keeps pulling us away from the moment.
Prayer is the discipline of the moment. When we pray, we enter into the presence of God whose name is God-with-us. To pray is to listen attentively to the One who addresses us here and now. When we dare to trust that we are never alone but that God is always with us, always cares for us, and always speaks to us, then we can gradually detach ourselves from the voices that make us guilty or anxious and thus allow ourselves to dwell in the present moment. This is a very hard challenge because radical trust in God is not obvious. Most of us distrust God. Most of us think of God as a fearful, punitive authority or as an empty, powerless nothing. Jesus’ core message was that God is neither a powerless weakling nor a powerful boss, but a lover, whose only desire is to give us what our hearts most desire.
To pray is to listen to that voice of love. That is what obedience is all about. The word “obedience” comes from the Latin word ob-audire,which means to listen with great attentiveness. Without listening, we become “deaf” to the voice of love. The Latin word for deaf is surdus. To be completely deaf is to be absurdus, yes, absurd. When we no longer pray, no longer listen to the voice of love that speaks to us in the moment, our lives become absurd lives in which we are thrown back and forth between the past and the future.
If we could just be, for a few minutes each day, fully where we are, we would indeed discover that we are not alone and that the One who is with us wants only one thing: to give us love.
Listening to the voice of love requires that we direct our minds and hearts toward that voice with all our attention. How can we do that? The most fruitful way—in my experience—is to take a simple prayer, a sentence or a word, and slowly repeat it. We can use the Lord’s Prayer, the Jesus Prayer, the name of Jesus, or any word that reminds us of God’s love and put it in the center of our inner room, like a candle in a dark space.
Obviously we will be constantly distracted. We will think about what happened yesterday or what will happen tomorrow. We will have long, imaginary discussions with our friends or enemies. We will plan our next day, prepare our upcoming talk, or organize our next meeting. Still, as long as we keep the candle in our dark room burning, we can return to that light and see clearly the presence of the One who offers us what we most desire.
This is not always a satisfying experience. Often we are so restless and so unable to find inner quietude that we can’t wait to get busy again, thus avoiding the confrontation with the chaotic state of our minds and hearts. Still, when we remain faithful to our discipline, even if it is only ten minutes a day, we gradually come to see—by the candlelight of our prayers—that there is a space within us where God dwells and where we are invited to dwell with God. Once we come to know that inner, holy place, a place more beautiful and precious than any place we can travel to, we want to be there and be spiritually fed.
One of the discoveries we make in prayer is that the closer we come to God, the closer we come to all our brothers and sisters in the human family. God is not a private God. The God who dwells in our inner sanctuary is also the God who dwells in the inner sanctuary of each human being. As we recognize God’s presence in our own hearts, we can also recognize that presence in the hearts of others, because the God who has chosen us as a dwelling-place gives us the eyes to see the God who dwells in others. When we see only demons within ourselves, we can see only demons in others, but when we see God within ourselves, we can see God also in others.
This might sound rather theoretical, but when we pray, we will increasingly experience ourselves as part of a human family infinitely bound by God who created us to share, all of us, in the divine light.
We often wonder what we can do for others, especially for those in great need. It is not a sign of powerlessness when we say: “We must pray for one another.” To pray for one another is, first of all, to acknowledge, in the presence of God, that we belong to each other as children of the same God. Without this acknowledgment of human solidarity, what we do for one another does not flow from who we truly are. We are brothers and sisters, not competitors or rivals. We are children of one God, not partisans of different gods.
To pray, that is, to listen to the voice of the One who calls us the “beloved,” is to learn that that voice excludes no one. Where I dwell, God dwells with me and where God dwells with me I find all my sisters and brothers. And so intimacy with God and solidarity with all people are two aspects of dwelling in the present moment that can never be separated.
In my home country, the Netherlands, you still see many large wagon wheels, not on wagons, but as decorations at the entrances of farms or on the walls of restaurants. I have always been fascinated by these wagon wheels: with their wide rims, strong wooden spokes, and big hubs. These wheels help me to understand the importance of a life lived from the center. When I move along the rim, I can reach one spoke after the other, but when I stay at the hub, I am in touch with all the spokes at once.
To pray is to move to the center of all life and all love. The closer I come to the hub of life, the closer I come to all that receives its strength and energy from there. My tendency is to get so distracted by the diversity of the many spokes of life, that I am busy but not truly life-giving, all over the place but not focused. By directing my attention to the heart of life, I am connected with its rich variety while remaining centered. What does the hub represent? I think of it as my own heart, the heart of God, and the heart of the world. When I pray, I enter into the depth of my own heart and find there the heart of God, who speaks to me of love. And I recognize, right there, the place where all of my sisters and brothers are in communion with one another. The great paradox of the spiritual life is, indeed, that the most personal is most universal, that the most intimate, is most communal, and that the most contemplative is most active.
The wagon wheel shows that the hub is the center of all energy and movement, even when it often seems not to be moving at all. In God all action and all rest are one. So too prayer!