Henri Nouwen on Prayer

I have just finished re-reading Henri Nouwen’s ‘With Open Hands’, a great reflection on the challenges and opportunities of prayer. In the book Nouwen explores what prayer is and how we go about it. “Praying is no easy matter. It demands a relationship in which you allow someone other than yourself to enter into the very center of your person, to see there what you would rather leave in darkness, and to touch there what you would rather leave untouched. Why would you really want to do that?” The book’s title comes from his use of the helpful image of an open hand as against a closed fist. So often we are taking the closed fist approach, but what we need is to open to hands, an image of our being receptive to God. We need to receive what God wants to give us. “Those who live prayerfully are constantly ready to receive the breath of God and to let their lives be renewed and expanded. Those who never pray, on the contrary, are like children with asthma: because they are short of breath, the whole world shrivels up before them. They creep into a corner gasping for air and are virtually in agony. But those who do pray open themselves to God and can breathe freely again. They stand upright, stretch out their hands, and come out of their corner, free to move about without fear.” Praying is about looking to and for God’s Kingdom. “Praying, therefore, is the most critical activity we are capable of, for when we pray, we are never satisfied with the world of here and now and are constantly striving to realize the new world, the first glimmers of which we have already seen.” “Praying, therefore, means being constantly ready to let go of your certainty and to move beyond where you now are.”

Nouwen as Mystic

I recently read Michael Ford’s “Lonely Mystic – A New Portrait of Henri J M Nouwen”. This is Ford’s second Nouwen biography. I read “Wounded Prophet” some time ago. I am fascinated by Nouwen and his writing. There is much to be said about – and by – him, and this particularly biography, as the title indicates, focusses on his ministry as a mystic, which reflects much of who he was – “Gustavo Gutiérrez called him “an exceptional human being”—and so he was. Yet despite his phenomenal gifts, he was also an enigma and a paradox, a man tortured by deep personal anguish, uncertainty, and self doubt. He shouldered a cumbersome insecurity, which took the form of a chronic need for admiration and a desperate fear of rejection.” As Ford says Nouwen “was was a deeply holy priest and a highly astute psychologist who tried to get to the roots of his own complexities by writing about them, turning his thoughts into paperbacks that, in turn, brought people closer to God and even helped transform their lives.” He adds “In his book In the Name of Jesus, he states simply and unambiguously, “A mystic is a person whose identity is deeply rooted in God’s first love.”” There is much in Ford’s writing to help us consider Nouwen in all his complexity and the way in which he draws things together. “In The Wounded Healer, published a few years before, Henri had explained that it was his growing conviction that in Jesus the mystical and the revolutionary ways were not opposites, but two sides of the same human mode of experiential transcendence: “Every real revolutionary is challenged to be a mystic at heart, and he who walks the mystical way is called to unmask the illusory quality of human society. Mysticism and revolution are two aspects of the same attempt to bring about radical change.” There were many points of interest for me in the book, but perhaps not least, especially since I have just visited Amsterdam, his recognising the impact of Van Gogh. “Few people influenced him more than van Gogh, whose deep wounds and immense gifts brought him in touch with his own brokenness and talents in a unique manner. He was restored and renewed by the endless hours he spent looking at paintings in a museum in the Netherlands and carefully studying Vincent’s letters to his brother Theo. In times of solitude, he heard a voice he felt he could listen to and make connections between van Gogh’s struggle and his own. The mystic in van Gogh guided the mystic in Henri, who claimed the former as his own wounded healer.”

Prepared for Easter

I have been reading “Preparing for Easter” through Lent. It’s a compilation of fifty extracts from the writings of C S Lewis, put together as fifty readings to take one through Lent. It is a fascinating and mixed selection, some I really enjoyed, though I found less in others to speak to me, and some, certainly, is of Lewis’s time. But it was a good way of having a reading discipline through Lent. Here’s just a few brief extracts. “How should we know what He means us to be like?” “We must all pin our hopes on the mercy of God and the work of Christ, not on our own goodness.” “Jesus asks those at the well who are sinless to cast the first stone. Paul says we have all fallen short and missed the mark. Let’s not gloss over our corruption but rather recognize it and confess it. Remember that he is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” “Real forgiveness means looking steadily at the sin, the sin that is left over without any excuse, after all allowances have been made, and seeing it in all its horror, dirt, meanness, and malice, and nevertheless being wholly reconciled to the man (sic) who has done it. That, and only that, is forgiveness, and that we can always have from God if we ask for it.” “Idealism can be talked, and even felt; it cannot be lived.” “When Christ stills the storm He does what God has often done before. God made Nature such that there would be both storms and calms: in that way all storms (except those that are still going on at this moment) have been stilled by God.” “The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of ‘little Christs’, all different, will still be too few to express Him fully. He made them all. He invented—as an author invents characters in a novel—all the different men (sic) that you and I were intended to be.” “And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Transgressing Race

I have just finished reading “Transgressing Race: Readings, Theologies, Belongings” edited by Jione Havea, a very interesting, if at times challenging, read. The book offers Biblical and theological readings from that challenge the segregation caused by racism. “Racism—including racism inspired by Christian faith and by religious elitism—is bloody.” “Racism is the manifestation of a shitstem (to use reggae speak) that segregates, and discriminates against, some people—because of their race. This manifestation comes in many forms, but they share the common drive to deny resources and opportunities from people who are minoritized—because of their race.” The book challenges us to properly address issues, notably issues of race, that damage people, though, in so doing, makes some useful points that have a more general application. There are lots of footnotes and quoted scholars, and I struggled a little, but worth reading – and there were certainly some strong passages that spoke to me powerfully. For example, “Preaching is not so much about telling what we ought to do or what we ought not to do as about witnessing (seeing and acting) how God is at work in the world in front of our eyes and beyond our seeing. A homily becomes even more instructive when it shows how the Reign of God is already being practiced, even if the practice is only partial and far from being perfect. In that sense, preaching is an invitation to join the divine drama, a rehearsal.” “Mary sang her song as a lullaby to Jesus who is to be born 9 months later. The Magnificat defies despair. The Magnificat impregnates hopes. The Magnificat sings of the new world; it beholds a renewed future. The Song echoes in many voices today as many of us continue to sing and praise God who has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; who has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; and who has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”

Looking to Easter

I have just re-read “The Easter Stories” by Trevor Dennis, a great preparation for celebrating Easter in a few days time. I find Trevor Dennis’ style of writing, with its emphasis on story, very engaging and extremely helpful in reflecting on Scripture. I like the way in which he interacts different passages and stories, letting them speak to each other and illustrate each other, and that is a device that is prominent and helpful in this particular book. “The feeding of the five thousand is not a ticket-only affair, nor like the Last Supper is it behind closed doors. The men, women and children who are there do not have to prove themselves worthy to receive. The meal happens out in the open, with no boundaries, no walls, no fences, no doors. All the people have to do is turn up, and stretch out their hands to receive. Then the kingdom of God can come, and they can have their daily bread and God's name can be hallowed.” I also liked the way in which he draws the reader to look at the events being retold through the eyes of particular participants in the story. “So the women in Mark do not encounter the resurrection. Resurrection, of course, is not what they have come for. They have come for the marking of death. They have come for the wrong reasons, for when they reach the tomb they find that death has been undone. In any case they need not have bought their expensive spices for, so Mark has told us, an unnamed woman in the Bethany house of a leper called Simon, has already broken a ‘jar of very costly perfume, genuine nard’ and poured it all over his head, and Jesus has declared that she has anointed his body for burial (14.3-9).” All in all, these stories and reflections provide a great commentary on the events of Easter. “So when Matthew speaks of earthquake, the dead bursting from their tombs, an angel descending to a tomb and rolling away the entrance stone with his little finger (I cannot stop myself adding a little more drama still), he is trying to understand the momentous character of the events. They are truly of cosmic significance, and just as Jesus' birth in Matthew's Gospel is marked by the movement of a star, so Jesus' death and resurrection are accompanied by a movement of the earth.”

Walking The Camino

I have just finished reading ‘Camino Sunrise’ by Reginald Spittle, sub-titled ‘Walking With My Shadows: One reluctant pilgrim packs a weighty load on a 500-mile path’. In the book Reg tells the story of how he, together with his wife Sue, having recently retired, made the trip from the USA to Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago. Though I have never walked any of it, I invariably enjoy books about the ‘Camino’ – and this was no exception. Unlike several books that I have read, this camino pilgrim does not enter the story (and the challenge) from a faith perspective, though it is interesting to see how faith makes its mark. In the end, when asked his reasons for walking, Reg says that it was partly personal, but also partly spiritual. There is no doubt that the experience had a big impact – and that comes through clearly as he reflects on his experiences on the camino and, in particular, Sue and he met and the friends they made. As he writes: “ The Camino wasn’t about getting to Santiago. It wasn’t about the miles we travelled. The journey was about people and the adventures we shared. It was about testing our limits, separately and together.” And there were a few good quotes. For example: “One revelation from this journey had become clear, and it sounded so simple: Nurture friendships with commitment and trust.” “The Camino confirmed another life lesson: “Take time.”” “What else was I taking home? I ticked off a list of lessons. Privacy is overrated. Never assume. Trust people. I am not a sissy. Take time. Never give up. Stay flexible. Pack light. Be patient. Use poles properly (thank you, Gitta). An important one: Don’t take myself so seriously. Have faith in the Camino’s magic. Another came to me: Cultivate friendships.” “There was really just one lesson. Acceptance. I must accept who I am and what I have done. I must live with the actions of others. My fellow pilgrims and I practiced acceptance daily. We persevered through struggles. We appreciated each other and celebrated common bonds as well as differences. We accepted the past, lived in the moment and moved forward.” All in all, a good read.

It's Important To Be Foolish!

I have just finished reading Brennan Manning's "The Importance of Being Foolish: How To Think Like Jesus". It's a timely reminder of the challenge of fitting God's Kingdom standards which do tend to turn things upside down. As Manning writes: "Jesus presents his heavenly Father as our model. As God rains peace and goodness on the just and unjust alike, so should we. Anyone can love their friends, those with whom we have a mutuality, a reciprocity. True godliness demands much, much more." One way in which we behave differently from normal convention should be our readiness to forgive (as God forgives us). Manning reminds us just how challenging, but how necessary, this is - "If we do not forgive our enemies, we ourselves are not forgiven (see Luke 6:37). For a long time the theology of the confession of sins has not been presented in this perspective. We have quibbled over the approximate number of times and the precise species of sin for which forgiveness might be warranted. We consider the boundaries crossed and the equal division of blame. When we do offer forgiveness, we do so too often with a spirit of superiority, using forgiveness as something to hold over the head of those we have deigned to let off the hook. The New Testament is relevant only if we grasp the fundamental meaning of the radical demands of the gospel while at the same time understanding that we can never completely fulfill them." He reminds us: "Contact with Christians should be an experience that proves to people that the gospel is a power that transforms the whole of life. Instead, our presence in the world is often marked by rank insincerity, a dilution of grace, and a failure to act on the Word." All in all it goes back to the idea of Jesus as our model. We may struggle with the call of the book's title 'How to think like Jesus' - but perhaps we can allow Jesus to model things for us and, if we can, it is probably worth remembering the open and receptive way in which Jesus approached everyone. As Manning says: "Jesus’s gentleness with sinners flowed from his ability to read their hearts and to detect the sincerity and essential goodness there. Behind people’s grumpiest poses or most puzzling defense mechanisms, behind their dignified airs, coarseness, or sneers, behind their silence or their curses, Jesus saw a little child who hadn’t been loved enough and who had ceased growing because those around him had ceased believing in him."