Nouwen: a spiritual father
Henri Nouwen took the time to see me as a young minister in crisis. Thirty years after his passing, Henri’s words still shape my life.
In a prominent place on my study wall hangs a copy of Andrei Rublev’s 15th-century “Old Testament Trinity” icon, a gift from Henri Nouwen for my ordination. When Henri, a Dutch diocesan priest and prolific author, died unexpectedly of a heart attack at age 64 back in 1996, I lost a spiritual father.
In the late 1970s, I began reading Henri’s books and articles, which became an important source of spiritual nourishment. I often brought them on retreats to read prayerfully. In 1981, I met Henri at Notre Dame where he gave a presentation on Vincent Van Gogh, one of his favourite subjects. We conversed in Dutch.
Speaking with Henri
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In 1988, I arranged to meet Henri for a couple of hours to interview him for The Other Side magazine (an interview that went on to win an award and was often republished). The day quickly evolved into something more. I arrived early, in time to join him in his daily prayers. He encouraged me to stay the entire day at his Daybreak L’Arche community in Richmond Hill, Ontario, where mentally handicapped people and their assistants live together.
Henri sensed that I was going through a crisis and he was right. I felt he could see into my heart as he asked probing questions, counselled me, prayed with me, blessed me and invited me to stay in touch.
He then gave me words that have shaped my life ever since: “You have a tender heart. Work is so overwhelming, or counselling gets to you, because you are very tender. But this also means that God is calling you to a deep spiritual life. That’s the other part of the story.”
We stayed in touch and I visited a few times. Once, I went again as a journalist, this time writing for Christianity Today. Sensing that I was once more in crisis, he told me he was going to “spoil” me so that I might know some healing. We had delightful meals, conversations and rich prayer. I was especially impressed that he remembered specific details of conversations from several years earlier. On another of my visits, he guided me on a five-day retreat.
One thing necessary
Nouwen’s many books remind me to stay centred and focused on God by prayer through Jesus Christ, as prayer is the “one thing necessary.” His frank writing about his own fears, anguish, anxieties, busyness and struggles with darkness emboldened me to face my own broken places: the things that are hardest can be means (not obstacles) to God.
He taught me how to bless and be a blessing in ways that remind us that we are all icons of God. This has been one of my primary models for pastoring. Nouwen showed that the inner life is always a life lived for others; it will bear good works.
One autumn day he received a small group of my pastor friends on our regular “day away.” He listened to our questions and concerns and then told us: “Ministry is the least important thing. You cannot not minister if you are in communion with God and live in community. A lot of people are always concerned about: ‘How can I help people?’ ‘How can I help the youth come to Christ?’ ‘How can I preach well?’ But they are basically non-issues.”
He continued: “If you are burning with the love of Jesus, don’t worry. Everyone will know. They will say, ‘I want to get close to this person who’s so full of God.’ But if you take a course on pastoral care and never pray, you become a professional. A minister is not someone who does a lot of things but someone who lives a life.”
