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The virtue of flexibility

3/18/2017

Trees look strong compared with the wild reeds in the field. But when the storm comes the trees are uprooted, whereas the wild reeds, while moved back and forth by the wind, remain rooted and are standing up again when the storm has calmed down.

Flexibility is a great virtue. When we cling to our own positions and are not willing to let our hearts be moved back and forth a little by the ideas or actions of others, we may easily be broken. Being like wild reeds does not mean being wishy-washy. It means moving a little with the winds of the time while remaining solidly anchored in the ground. A humorless, intense, opinionated rigidity about current issues might cause these issues to break our spirits and make us bitter people. Let's be flexible while being deeply rooted.

For further reflection...

"Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom." - James 3:13 (NIV)

This devotional was written by Henri Nouwen.
You can find his website here: henrinouwen.org

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The most human & the most divine gesture

10/23/2015

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The two disciples whom Jesus joined on the road to Emmaus recognised him in the breaking of the bread. What is a more common, ordinary gesture than breaking bread? It may be the most human of all human gestures: a gesture of hospitality, friendship, care, and the desire to be together.

Taking a loaf of bread, blessing it, breaking it, and giving it to those seated around the table signifies unity, community, and peace. When Jesus does this he does the most ordinary as well as the most extraordinary. It is the most human as well as the most divine gesture.

The great mystery is that this daily and most human gesture is the way we recognise the presence of Christ among us. God becomes most present when we are most human.

For further reflection...

They asked each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us...?" - Luke 24: 32a (NIV)

This post was written by Henri Nouwen. You can find his site here: www.henrinouwen.org

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Adam: God's Beloved

2/17/2015

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Like many of Nouwen’s other books, Adam is simultaneously simple and profound. This insight into reality – that the simple is profound and the profound simple – is woven throughout Nouwen’s work. Life itself is both simple and profound, as is the life of a disciple of Jesus, as is the life of prayer, as is the life of ministry, as is death, as is life after death.

In Adam, Nouwen confronts this interweaving of the simple and the profound in the most deeply personal way possible. At first glance, the book appears to be a biography of Adam Arnett, a seriously handicapped young man, narrated by Nouwen who became his caretaker in Daybreak, the L’Arche community home in Richmond Hill, just north of Toronto, Canada. Yet, as the reader turns the pages of the text, the biography becomes an autobiography at the same time. Indeed, Nouwen’s telling of Adam’s story morphs into the parallel story of Nouwen’s life during his time with Adam and afterward.

Nouwen writes soon after Adam’s death and, as we learn, during what was to be the last year of his own life. Nouwen was convinced that Adam’s person and life was an incarnation of the person of Jesus Christ. This faith-conviction motivates Nouwen to share his incarnational insight through his gift of writing. Nouwen’s prayerful reflections led him to see a paralleling of many of the aspects of the life-story of Adam with that of Jesus as described for us in the four Gospels. What Nouwen composes for his readers is, on one level, this parallel. For Nouwen, Adam’s life had a hidden period, public period, passion, death, burial, and form of resurrection. This comparing of Adam’s life-story to that of Jesus provides the structure for the text.

Woven into Adam’s story is Nouwen’s own story at that moment in his life. In some respects, Nouwen’s life-story reverses Adam’s and Jesus’. Nouwen lived a very public life as teacher, lecturer, and writer for most of his career. Now, in what were to become the last two years of his life, he experiences a much more hidden life as pastor of Daybreak.

During this hidden life, even the renowned spiritual master encounters himself and Jesus in new, surprising, and challenging ways. In his role as caregiver to Adam, Nouwen experiences the depth of human fragility, vulnerability and dignity. The normally fluent speaker and writer is so challenged that his usual insightful, confident speech about the spiritual life is reduced to a simple recounting of experiences and reflections on how they connect to the life of Jesus. Nouwen writes almost as a student or novice encountering new spiritual realities for the first time.

Adam does show us Nouwen at his best -- as a human being. Here we see a Nouwen who is faced with his own vulnerability as a human being and disciple of Jesus Christ. He writes, haltingly at times and repetitively at others, of his ongoing discovery of his own vulnerability and neediness. Here is Nouwen without the defenses of his brilliant intellect and polished literary skills. Here, indeed, is Nouwen a “wounded healer” himself. Ironically, it is Adam, also a wounded healer, who becomes Nouwen’s spiritual guide. It is Adam who, through his own unchosen vulnerability, becomes the inspiration for Nouwen to touch the depths of his own vulnerabilities.

Nouwen recounts how this process led him into his own personal crisis. He puts it this way: “I was going through the deep human struggle to believe in my belovedness even when I had nothing to be proud of.” (79) Coming through his crisis, Nouwen states that: “Somewhere though I recognized that Adam’s way, the way of radical vulnerability, was also the way of Jesus.” (79) This, I believe, is Nouwen’s great, perhaps greatest, discovery of his own personal spiritual life. It is this autobiographical truth that is Nouwen’s “pearl of great price.” It is this that he wishes to share with any and all who would read his book. And, I don’t believe Nouwen would care if readers and reviewers said that this wasn’t his best work. I suspect that Nouwen was quite at peace during his dying because he had come to know the truth about himself in a way that he had never known before: that like Jesus and like Adam Arnett, he too, Henri Nouwen, was God’s Beloved. Nothing else really matters.

- Dr.George Matejka, Chair, Philosophy Department, Ursuline College, Pepper Pike, OH wrote this book review -

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The God who is Counselor

6/19/2013

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How do we know that we are not deluding ourselves, that we are not selecting those words that best fit our passions, that we are not just listening to the voice of our own imagination?...Who can determine if [our] feelings and insights are leading [us] in the right direction?

Our God is greater than our own heart and mind, and too easily we are tempted to make our heart’s desires and our mind’s speculations into the will of God. Therefore, we need a guide, a director, a counselor who helps us to distinguish between the voice of God and all other voices coming from our own confusion or from dark powers far beyond our control.

We need someone who encourages us when we are tempted to give it all up, to forget it all, to just walk away in despair. We need someone who discourages us when we move too rashly in unclear directions or hurry proudly to a nebulous goal. We need someone who can suggest to us when to read and when to be silent, which words to reflect upon and what to do when silence creates much fear and little peace.

This post is excerpted from Reaching Out by Henri Nouwen.

Here is the link for The Henri Nouwen Society: http://www.henrinouwen.org

BE HOLY.
BE A MAN.

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Loneliness

3/23/2013

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So often, a person only reveals a difficult period of his or her life after the event, while reflecting on the event. This is especially true of "testimonies" given at church. A person stands to thank the Lord for seeing her through a dark period of life; meanwhile, many people stare in wonder how most of the rest of us were unaware of her living through such an event.

I, too, used to live a privatized life. If I was struggling through a rough patch in my life, I would keep it all to myself, unwilling to share my pain or difficulties. Part of the reason for my privacy was fear, part of it was shame, and another part was pride.

I have decided not to live my life like that any longer. I intend on being transparent about my struggles. I think that in doing so I can honor the Lord, live a more honest and thus healthy life, as well as give comfort to anyone who may be experiencing the exact same feelings.

Over the last month or so I have felt loneliness unparalleled -- never have I felt this lonely. This lonely period began when I discovered that the only friend I had (in my area) was not really a friend, in the true sense of the word. Our relationship, unbeknownst to me, has never been one of true friendship but of convenience. If this certain person could not find anyone else to spend time with, then I would do. I was unaware that our so-called friendship was in this sad state of affairs.

Now, in other periods of my life, I would have responded differently to this tragic state. But at this vulnerable point in my life, when I most need a close friend (with whom I can spend time and confide and share my thoughts and feelings, as well as reciprocate), I am left all alone and very hurt. The friend I thought I had was not really my friend at all.

I often picture loneliness as a chasm because that is how it feels -- like a space of emptiness that needs filling. "But the Lord should fill that chasm," some say. Well, that sounds nice; that sounds like the typical, Christian, spiritual-yet-superficial pat-answer to every situation. But I cannot see the Lord, nor can I audibly hear His voice, or hug or touch or punch and be playful with Him like I would a friend.

The Lord gives us like-minded friends who can excite the senses: sight, sound, touch, smell (hopefully pleasant). "Some friends play at friendship but a true friend sticks closer than one's nearest kin" (Prov. 18:24 NRSV). In my present situation, little did I know that I had the former but not the latter. This present loneliness is also coupled with a deep sense of rejection. The one is as hard to bear as the other.

What I am learning from this experience is how to choose a friend more wisely in the future. The saying is true: we cannot choose our family members, but we can choose our friends. Nor can we choose if or when loneliness will visit us: all of us, no matter our age or social status, are susceptible to a brief encounter with loneliness (or depression or rejection). Spouses and members of large families often sense loneliness as much as any single person; so the mere presence of people in our lives will not guard us from its grip.

Some people, when experiencing loneliness or depression, merely endure it instead of praying or calling someone or watching a movie or going for a walk; they merely sit and endure the grief and pain, the emotional and mental torment. For some, enduring these times is all they can do; they feel paralyzed by their emotions or mental state.

I know firsthand that there are many people in the world today, Christian and non-Christian, who are lonely and depressed. I know so because I receive their emails. None of us should deny the fact that at certain times in our lives we must drink the cup of loneliness. We do not like this cup. We try to avoid drinking the contents of this cup. But often we are forced to take this cup, press it to our lips, and drink.

I think the aversion we sense to such an experience is natural. We should not feel guilty because we try to avoid feeling lonely or depressed. However, Henri Nouwen has some sound advice:

Whenever you feel lonely, you must try to find the source of this feeling. You are inclined either to run away from your loneliness or to dwell in it. When you run away from it, your loneliness does not really diminish; you simply force it out of your mind temporarily. When you start dwelling in it, your feelings only become stronger, and you slip into depression. The spiritual task is not to escape your loneliness, not to let yourself drown in it, but to find its source.1

Why finding the source of your loneliness is so very important, he admits, is because "it leads you to discern something good about yourself."2

For me, that goodness is grounded in the fact that I consider myself worthy of friendship, with much to offer a friend. I despise this loneliness because it reminds me that I actually have been rejected, and it hurts.

During Jesus' darkest hours in the garden at Gethsemane (lit. "the place of pressing"), He confessed to being deeply grieved, to the point of death, praying, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me" (Matt. 26:39). Do we not pray the same prayer when we are facing some of the darkest hours of our lives? We all want our respective cups to pass from us.

This cup of loneliness is mine to drink for now. No one else can drink from this particular cup. I must drink it, and I must drink it alone. A time will come when the contents of this cup will be depleted. I can then wash the cup, dry it, and place it back into the cupboard. I look forward to that day.

1 Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom (New York: Image Books, 1998), 36.
2 Ibid.

This truly honest post was written by William Watson Birch. You can find the original post with comments here: http://www.classicalarminian.com/2013/01/the-cup-of-loneliness.html

BE HOLY.
BE A MAN.

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Rejecting Self-Rejection

2/4/2013

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Self love is natural and not to be thought of as sinful. One tale-tell sign that we love ourselves is the manner in which treat our bodies. "For no one ever hates his own body, but he nourishes and tenderly cares for it" (Eph. 5:29 NRSV). When we mistreat our bodies -- for example, drinking too much alcohol, over eating or eating too much junk food, indulging in sexual immorality, neglecting proper exercise -- we are speaking volumes about how we feel about our inner selves.

I once thought that one of the problems with my inner life was that I loved myself too much. But I have concluded that this is not the case whatsoever. If I truly loved myself then I would always do what is best for myself, as I walk daily before God, and do good to others. This has not been a reality for me in the past. One of the major problems with my inner life has been self-blame, and self-rejection, not self-love. I have had difficulty even liking myself, not to mention loving myself.

Henri Nouwen, in his book The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom, explains that "self-blame is not a form of humility. It is a form of self-rejection." (86) When an event does not pan out as I wished, self-blame sets in, and I imagine such blame as godly humility. Nouwen writes: "When a friendship does not blossom, when a word is not received, when a gesture of love is not appreciated, do not blame it on yourself. This is both untrue and hurtful." (86) I must endeavor to view all forms of rejection objectively.

For example, given that Christ is Lord of my life, I must understand that He is guiding my steps as I seek to live in, through, and for Him (Ps. 37:23). If I encounter some form of rejection, I must understand that, in an ultimate sense, the Lord has another plan. If I do not, however, view rejection in such a manner, but begin to reject myself, then a dangerous worldview can be adopted. Nouwen writes:
Every time you reject yourself, you idealize others. You want to be with those whom you consider better, stronger, more intelligent, more gifted than yourself. Thus you make yourself emotionally dependent, leading others to feel unable to fulfill your expectations and causing them to withdraw from you. This makes you blame yourself even more, and you enter a dangerous spiral of self-rejection and neediness. (86) I have experienced this reality, and I can attest that Nouwen's conclusion is correct. Leaving myself utterly vulnerable to the dependence of others for validity or happiness or fulfillment is desperate. In the end, the only one hurt is myself. At such a point, self-rejection sets in, and a vicious cycle is repeated.

I cannot, nor should anyone else, deny that when rejection is experienced a sense of hurt is also present. Rejection hurts because we perceive ourselves as unworthy of love and respect. But unless we reject self-rejection, then we will continue on an anxious, downward spiral of mental and emotional anguish, torment, and despair.

If someone I imagined as a friend constantly mistreats me, emotionally hurts me, I should not, then, reject myself. But neither should I harbor malcontent for the other person. Harshly blaming others in such instances can be just as harmful as self-blame. I should give no place for a root of bitterness to grow within me (Eph. 4:31; Heb. 12:15).

In such a circumstance, I should merely conclude that the two of us do not make an appropriate, friendly match. Yes, I may still experience a little hurt. But I should not be devastated by and obsessive over the fact that we do not make a perfect, friendly match. Nor should I reject myself, and think less of myself, as someone unworthy of quality relationships. Nouwen writes:

Avoid all forms of self-rejection. Acknowledge your limitations, but claim your unique gifts and thereby live as an equal among equals. That will set you free from your obsessive and possessive needs and enable you to give and receive true affection and friendship. (87) If I am to be a healthy friend, or brother in Christ to others, then I must maintain a proper view of myself. If I am constantly rejecting myself then how can I expect others to embrace me?

Moreover, if God the Creator embraces me in and through Christ (Eph. 1:5-6), and even counts me as His friend (John 15:14-15), then I actually have no right to self-rejection. If God has not rejected me, then I cannot reject myself. Rejecting myself would implicate God's better judgment. By His grace, I will constantly be rejecting self-rejection.

__________

Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom (New York: Image Books, 1998).

This post was written by William W Birch. For the original post with comments, go to:   http://www.classicalarminian.com/2013/01/rejecting-self-rejection.html

BE HOLY.
BE A MAN.

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The virtue of flexibility

The most human & the most divine gesture

Adam: God's Beloved

The God who is Counselor

Loneliness

Rejecting Self-Rejection

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