Copyright © 2019 by The Henri Nouwen Legacy Trust
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Convergent Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
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For more information about Henri Nouwen, his work, and the work of the Henri Nouwen Society, visit www.HenriNouwen.org.
Published in association with Alive Literary Agency, 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, Colorado 80920, www.aliveliterary.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 9781101906392
Ebook ISBN 9781101906408
Book design by Songhee Kim, adapted for ebook
Cover design: Sarah Horgan
Cover painting: Vincent Van Gogh, Undergrowth with Two Figures, 1890 (Cincinnati Art Museum, bequest of Mary E. Johnson/Bridgeman Images)
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CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Foreword by Richard Rohr
Introduction
Chapter 1. The Invitation: “Come and See”
Chapter 2. The Call: “Come Follow Me”
Chapter 3. The Challenge: “Love Your Enemies”
Chapter 4. The Cost: “Take Up Your Cross”
Chapter 5. The Reward: “My Joy Will Be Yours”
Chapter 6. The Promise: “I Will Be with You Always”
Editor’s Note by Gabrielle Earnshaw
Acknowledgments
foreword
Henri Nouwen: My Friend and Teacher
I first heard of Henri Nouwen while still in seminary in Ohio in the late 1960s. My mother wrote me from Kansas that there was a new Dutch priest serving at our parish, and she loved to attend his Masses. “His accent makes him hard to understand, but he says the Mass with such reverence and devotion,” she told me. Of course, at the time, I had no idea who she was talking about. He was then a doctoral student of psychology at the Menninger institute, near our family home in Topeka. But it was not long before he entered my life.
Starting in the mid-1970s, we were often speakers at the same conferences. Soon he visited me several times at the New Jerusalem Community in Cincinnati, where he told me how he longed for community and intimate relationships. I could tell it was a passionate need. We would go for walks from time to time in the working-class neighborhood where the community had settled. He would invariably entertain me (I do not know what other word to use) with his endless spiritual curiosity, his extreme vulnerability, and his humble concern for people.
Henri longed for in-depth relationship, and I think relationship was, in fact, his real genius. He could spot the authentic from the inauthentic, and longed to be a healer of the inauthentic. Which is exactly how he served us all so well!
When I moved to New Mexico in 1986 to found the Center for Action and Contemplation, Henri wrote me a very supportive letter encouraging me to “teach nothing but contemplation”! And he even recommended to my study the writings of Eknath Easwaran. This showed me the depth of his Christian faith that was not threatened by a Hindu-based teacher from India. It also showed me that as Catholic as he was, he recognized authentic contemplative teaching wherever it came from.
Because I looked up to him as a wise and holy elder, I would often try to get some free spiritual direction out of him. Only a few minutes into it, I’d realize that he never really answered my questions, but had somehow turned it around to make me into his spiritual director! I was never sure if it was humility on his part or some kind of unconscious need for reciprocity, but I finally concluded that it was a totally sincere spiritual search and he valued my insights as much as his own. As much as I knew that he was a spiritual writer, in real life he was a spiritual seeker and believer—always filled with desire for more wisdom and for more capacity to love.
When he heard that I was beginning to teach a spirituality for men, he wrote me and strongly encouraged me in this regard. He also told a number of artists that they needed to paint images that could be healing for the so often broken father-son relationship. He knew that it often took visual images to begin the healing process. At least one iconographer, the Franciscan Robert Lentz, took his advice and painted John the Beloved with his head on the breast of Jesus. Henri loved it, and was very honest with me and others about his complex relationship with his own father.
All in all, and from my simple perspective, these were Henri Nouwen’s primary gifts: human vulnerability and the healing power that he gained from such rugged honesty. For most of us, he created the very phrase “the wounded healer” and fully exemplified it in his life. He loved being well known and yet fully saw the irony. I remember when he said to me with sincere hurt, “My own family in the Netherlands does not read my books, or even know about them!” But then he would also laugh at himself for saying such a thing.
Maybe we could say that Henri invited the human shadow into the entire conversation of spirituality, similar to Francis of Assisi and Thérèse of Lisieux, but with more psychological savvy. This led him to so much practical insight into the nature of love and all relationship, especially God’s love. We Christians had grown used to calling the shadow self “sin” and perhaps quickly confessing it as such, but then were incapable of learning from it. Henri surely “confessed” his sins and failures to those close to him—but only after he had first felt their sting, their texture, their truth, and their always available wisdom. These honest acknowledgments seemed to lead him to compassion for others.
With all of this, and because of all of this, Henri emerged as a superb Christian teacher who will surely stand the test of time. And you are now about to enjoy some of his hard-won wisdom in this book.
He will soon be your friend, if he is not already.
Fr. Richard Rohr, O.F.M.
Center for Action and Contemplation
Albuquerque, New Mexico
INTRODUCTION
Are you following Jesus? I want you to look at yourself and ask that question.
Are you a follower? Am I?
Often, we are more wanderers than followers. I am speaking of myself as much as of you. We are people who run around a lot, do many things, meet many people, attend many events, read many books. We are very involved. We experience life as many, many things. We go here, we go there, we do this, we do that, we speak to him, we speak to her, we have this to do and that to do. Sometimes we wonder how we can do it all. If we sit down and think about it, we are often running from one emergency to another. We are so busy and so involved. Yet if we are asked what we are so busy with we don’t really know.
People who wander from one thing to the other, feeling that they are lived more than they live, are very tired. Deeply tired. It is a problem for many people. It is not so much that we do many things but rather that we do many things while wondering whether anything is happening. Sometimes it seems as though we have all these balls up in the air and wonder how we can keep them all going. It is very tiring. Exhausting actually.
Some people finally stop and give it all up. They say, “It was five years and nothing happened anyway.” They sit there and do nothing. Nothing excites them anymore. They have no real interest in life. They just watch television, read comic books, and sleep all the time. There is no rhythm, no movement, no tension. Sometimes there is escape through alcohol, drugs, or sex, but nothin
g fascinates them. Nothing energizes them.
“What do you want to do?” “I don’t care.”
“Want to go to a movie?” “I don’t care.”
They have moved from wandering to just sitting there. These people are also very tired. There is a real fatigue there. Both types of people, the running-around ones and the just-sitting-there ones, are not moving anywhere.
There is something of the wanderer and something of the person who just sits there in all of us. If you look at this world you might think, “I am so tired. There is so much fatigue, so much experience of heaviness in this world, that I find myself sometimes as a wanderer and sometimes as a sitter.” It is into this deeply tired world of ours that God sends Jesus to speak the voice of love. Jesus says, “Follow me. Don’t keep running around. Follow me. Don’t just sit there. Follow me.”
The voice of love is the voice that can completely reshape our life from a wandering or just-sitting-there life to one that is focused and has a point to go to.
“Follow me.”
Some of us may have heard this voice already. Others not.
Once we hear the voice calling us to follow, things often fall into place. Instead of moving in many different directions, suddenly we have focus. We know where we are going. We have only one concern. Suddenly, that deep boredom we experienced vanishes because we have heard the voice of love.
If we don’t have a focus, if we don’t have anyone to follow, we are empty people. We are! Yet, when we discover that there is a voice of love calling us and saying, “Follow me,” everything becomes different. The life that seemed so dull, so boring, so exhausting suddenly is a life that has a direction.
We might say to ourselves, “Now I know why I am living!”
This book has been written to help you and me to hear that voice of love, to hear that voice that whispers in your ear, “Follow me.”
What I hope to do is guide us from restless wandering to joyful following; from being bored people just sitting there doing nothing to being excited because we have heard a voice.
The voice is not a voice that will force itself on us. It is a voice of love, and love doesn’t push or pull. Love is very sensitive.
There is a beautiful story in the Old Testament where the prophet stands at the mouth of a cave and the Lord is passing. There is thunder, and the Lord is not in the thunder. There is an earthquake, and the Lord is not in the earthquake. There is fire, and the Lord is not in the fire. Then there is a still, small voice, and the Lord is in that voice. (See 1 Kings 19:11–13.)
The voice is very sensitive. It can be very quiet. It is sometimes hard to hear. But the voice of love is already in you. You may have already heard it.
Start trying to hear that voice. Get quiet and spend some time trying to hear it.
Listen. It says, “I love you,” and calls you by name. It says, “Come, come. Follow me.”
Dear Lord,
Be with me today. Listen to my confusion and help me know how to live it. I don’t know the words. I don’t know the way. Show me the way. You are a quiet God. Help me to listen to your voice in a noisy world. I want to be with you. I know you are peace. I know you are joy. Help me to be a peaceful and joyful person. These are the fruits of living close to you. Bring me close to you, dear Lord.
AMEN
CHAPTER ONE
THE INVITATION
“Come and See”
As John the Baptist stood there with two of his disciples, Jesus passed and John stared hard at him and said: “Look, there is the Lamb of God.” Hearing this, the two disciples followed Jesus, and Jesus turned around, saw them following, and said, “What do you want?” “Rabbi [which means “teacher”], where do you live?” “Come and see,” he replied. So they went and saw where he lived and they stayed with him the rest of the day. It was about the tenth hour.
JOHN 1:35–39
Imagine you are in this story for a moment. Imagine you are there with John the Baptist. He was a tough man. Picture him dressed in camel hair. He is separate from others. With a stern voice he says, “Repent! Repent! You are sinful people. Repent, repent, repent!”
People are there listening. Somehow they feel that there is something missing in their lives. Somehow they feel that they are busy with many things and exhausted or they are just sitting there and nothing is ever going to happen.
They go to this strange man—this wild man—and listen. John and Andrew, two of John’s disciples, are there with him. One day Jesus passes by. John looks hard at him and says, “That is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”
John knew that his people were sinners and needed to repent, but he also knew that he could not take away the sins of those people; that taking away sins was not a human possibility. He said, “Repent, repent, repent!” But when Jesus passed by, John looked hard at him, and said to John and Andrew, “Look, that is the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world. That is the servant of God. He came to suffer. That is the One who has been sent to become the sacrifice, the Lamb of God, so that he can take away your sins.”
Just be there in this picture.
Just be there where John and Andrew are, eager to start a new life, with a new focus, a new beginning, a new heart, a new soul. Those two young men start following Jesus, and Jesus turns around and sees them following him and said, “What do you want?” And what do they say? Do they say, “Lord, we want to be your followers,” “Lord, we want to do your will,” “Lord, we want you to take our sins away”? They don’t say any of that! Instead, they ask, “Where do you live?”
Somehow, right here in the beginning of the story we hear a very important question: Where do you live? What is your place? What is your way? How is it to be around you?
Jesus says, “Come and see.”
He doesn’t say, “Come into my world.” He doesn’t say, “Come, I will change you.” He doesn’t say, “Become my disciples,” “Listen to me,” “Do what I tell you,” “Take up your cross.” No. He says, “Come and see. Look around. Get to know me.” That is the invitation.
They stayed with him. They went and saw where he lived and stayed with him the rest of the day. John says it was about the tenth hour, or four o’clock in the afternoon.
Jesus invited them and they came around him and they dwelled with him. They went willingly to his place. They saw a man very different from John the Baptist, who yelled, “Repent, repent, repent! The time has come.” Instead, Jesus said, “Come see where I live.”
They saw Jesus, the Lamb of God. The humble servant. Poor, gentle, warm, peacemaker, pure of heart. They saw him. Already then. They saw the Lamb of God.
There is a softness. There is a gentleness. There is a humility.
“Come and see.”
“They stayed with him for the rest of the day.”
Jesus invites them in to just look around.
Be there. Look with the eyes of the heart to the story you have heard.
We Are Invited
Jesus is offering an invitation to come into the House of God. It is an invitation to enter into God’s dwelling place.
It is not an invitation with harsh demands. It is the story of the Lamb of God saying to us, “Come. Come to my home. Look around. Don’t be afraid.” Long before Jesus’ radical call to leave everything behind, Jesus says, “Come, have a look where I am.”
Jesus is a host who wants us around him. Jesus is the Good Shepherd of the Old Testament who invites his people to his table where the cup of life overflows.
This image of God inviting us to his home is used throughout scripture.
The Lord is my house. The Lord is my hiding place. The Lord is my awning.
The Lord is my refuge. The Lord is my tent. The Lord is my temple. The Lord is my dwelling place. The Lord is my home. The Lord is the place where
I want to dwell all the days of my life.
God wants to be our room, our house. He wants to be anything that makes us feel at home. She is like a bird hugging us under her wings. She is like a woman holding us in her womb. She is Infinite Mother, Loving Host, Caring Father, the Good Provider who invites us to join him.
There is a sense of being that is safe, that is good. In this dangerous world full of violence, chaos, and destruction, there is this place where we want to be. We want to be in the House of God—to feel safe, to be embraced, to be loved, to be cared for. With the psalmist we say, “Where else does my heart want to stay but in the House of the Lord?” (See Psalms 84 and 27.)
The word “home” continues to grow in significance. Jesus says, “I am going to the house of my Father to prepare a room for you because in the house of my Father there are many dwelling places” (John 14:2). Jesus tells us about that great home, that mansion, where we will have a banquet and the cup is overflowing, where life will be one great celebration.
John’s Gospel opens with an incredible vision of home. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God, and in the Word everything was created, and the Word became flesh and pitched its tent among us” (John 1:1–3, 14). Home is what the incarnation is all about. If you read the Gospel you hear how Jesus speaks: “I have made my home in you so you can make your home in me” (John 15:4–8). This vision of the House of God goes deeper and deeper. Suddenly, all these images merge and we realize that we are God’s home and that we are invited to make our home where God has made God’s home. We realize that right where we are, right here in this body, with this face, with these hands, with this heart, we are the place where God can dwell.
Listen carefully: Jesus wants you and me to become part of the intimate family of God. “Just as the Father loves me so I love you” (John 15:9). Jesus says, “You are no longer slaves, strangers and outsiders; no, you are friends because everything I have heard from my Father is yours, all the works I do you can do, and even greater ones. I am not the great person and you the little one—no, all that I can do, you can do too” (John 15:15–16).
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