Cover
story Fr.
Henri Nouwen of happy memory
After Henri Nouwen's death, NCR, in its Oct. 4 issue,
asked readers to submit stories, eulogies and other comments about the
well-loved Nouwen. The reaction was so great that the extensive contributions
published below represent only a sampling, drastically edited for space and
other reasons. NCR is grateful to all who submitted their
thoughts.
This outpouring of love and adulation for a departed Christian
would have instantly created a saint in the early church. For nearly a thousand
years, before formal canonization existed, holy lives were celebrated and
sainthood conferred by the vox populi, the voice of the
faithful.
Such spontaneous veneration, even without papal canonization,
may still be showing us a compelling sign of the times.
Susan Stievater Buffalo, N.Y.
I had the opportunity to speak briefly with Fr. Nouwen when he was
staying at the Abbey of the Genesee in 1974. When I introduced myself as an
academic librarian, he excitedly told me that one of his books was now in mass
market paperback and maybe people could even buy it at an airport. I have read
his book Genesee Diary many times and find it a very serious search for
how he and we should think of our lifestyles in our relationship with God.
Art Laffin Washington
I first met Henri in 1978 when he was at Yale Divinity School.
Several friends and I were just beginning the Convenant Peace Community in New
Haven, Conn. Henri would often celebrate Eucharist with us on Friday mornings
and then join us for breakfast. We discussed many things, including the
importance of cultivating a strong spiritual life that could sustain our social
activism.
Like Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day, he warned that without
creating what he called a spiritual "basement" or foundation for our lives, it
would be impossible to stay sustained over the long haul. This advice has
proved crucial to me in my ministry of service and peacemaking.
He was spiritual guide and friend to many including the Catholic
Worker movement. He was a great advocate for peace and justice and supported
many, including myself, who have been imprisoned for plowshares and other
peacemaking actions. In his foreword to The Risk of the Cross, which I
coauthored, he conveyed the idea that the power of love was greater than the
power of death. One of the greatest evangelizers of our time, Henri had an
unwavering faith in Jesus that was contagious. He was one who truly loved and
lived the Eucharist!
It is fitting that he died on the feast of the great apostle St.
Matthew.
Every time I was with Henri, whether it was celebrating Eucharist,
conducting the Stations of the Cross where the Trident is built at General
Dynamics in Groton, Conn., sharing a meal or in the phone conversation I had
with him shortly before his death, my faith in Jesus was rekindled. His
welcoming heart, his selfless giving, his deep kindness, and his great
generosity, conveyed a love that knew no bounds.
I will never forget how he loved to celebrate with friends. I once
had the great privilege of Henri's celebrating Mass on my birthday and then
taking time out of his busy schedule to stay and enjoy the party. Always
confronting and sharing his own fears and anxieties from a context of faith, he
helped many to confront their broken humanity and to embrace the healing,
transforming power of the gospel.
Sarah Ann McMahan Sioux Falls, S.D.
Henri Nouwen's influence on my life began so long ago that I
cannot remember the year. I was a new Catholic, trying to find a coherent
manner to merge my contemplative prayer life with raising a large family and
growing into what has now become a professional ministry in the church. I read
The Wounded Healer, and I knew that I would have written those same
words if only I had Nouwen's gift with words. He spoke directly to my needs and
to my heart.
As the years passed, I continued to buy the books of this man,
whose spiritual and intellectual life seemed, at the deepest level, so much
like my own, even though our chosen paths were very different. After a nearly
fatal car accident in 1989, I bought The Accident. I was incredulous at
how this book articulated what I had recorded in my own journal. Nouwen's
experience somehow gave affirmation to my own as I struggled to integrate pain
and disability with what I had thought I knew about God.
Finally, in 1993 I experienced utter brokenness as I went through
my second divorce. I felt devastated by the sense of homelessness, as I was
forced to leave the family home in Colorado and everything I had previously
known of my personal and ministerial identity. I felt as if I would never again
belong -- to anyone or any place. Nouwen taught me that my home will always be
that place within me where God has chosen to dwell. I knew this, of course, but
somehow in the chaos of my life I couldn't seem to access this truth.
Nouwen's works have provided in a prophetic way the underpinnings
for so many thousands of Catholics in a time in which our church is torn by the
same conflicts and need for healing that we as individuals and as a society are
experiencing.
Sr. Ann Notch, OSB Lacey, Wash.
Having been an avid reader of Nouwen's books, I can say with
conviction that his works have been inspirational and personally revealing.
Reading and rereading his books, I have been blessed with new insights and rich
spiritual values.
It was a strange coincidence that I was reading his latest
publication Can You Drink the Cup? at the time of his death. His final
statement in this work was particularly revealing.
Daily celebration of Eucharist had deepened his life over the
years and made him more conscious that we live every day, our sorrows and joys,
"in the integral part of the great mystery of Christ's death and
resurrection."
What a rich spiritual life he has lived and what a wealth of
spiritual thought he has provided for us.
Barbara L. Boril Oak Park, Ill.
Shortly before Fr. Henri Nouwen's death, I celebrated my 64th
birthday, and received an excerpt from one of his books about why we should
celebrate our birthdays. One week later, I heard Mr. Jonas announce Fr.
Nouwen's death on National Public Radio. I was greatly saddened by the news of
his death.
I have been revitalized in my spiritual life through reading his
many books, but the one I cherish most is his 1992 book titled Life of the
Beloved. His many insights into the heart of Jesus helped me to feel close
to Jesus.
Fr. John Andrew Connell Morris Plains, N.J.
Henri Nouwen epitomizes for me one who spent his life integrating
the joys and sorrows, the highs and lows, the healthy and not so healthy
aspects of his life.
Nouwen's book, Life of the Beloved, has been for me a
wonderful gift that I name as "an amazing grace." In his search for the core
reality of his life, he discovered his belovedness as a son of God. This
recurring theme, found in all his recent writings, enabled Nouwen to see
himself as God does and he has shared this insight so convincingly with his
readers. His greatness arises from this gracious gift of God, his belovedness
in God's eyes.
I thank God for the gift of Henri Nouwen among us. His life and
the legacy of his many writings about our belovedness are sure signs of the
light that comes to those who dare journey the road to fuller integration. I
believe we will honor Nouwen best by living from our belovedness as daughters
and sons of a living God.
Sr. Gertrude Brady NSCJ New York
Fr. Nouwen said one day that he had learned not to plan his day.
"I used to say: Tomorrow I will visit X, phone Y and write to Z." But when the
next day came A would phone him, B would visit him and C would write to him. He
soon learned not to plan, but to answer God's calls as they came to him. This
has helped me greatly to live God's call as it comes.
Joseph P. Ascherl Floral Park, N.Y.
Henri Nouwen's manuscript Genesee Diary arrived in the
editorial office of Doubleday Co. when I was employed in their book design
department. Publication date was 1976. This book introduced us (my wife,
Charlotte, and myself) to the Trappist Abbey of Genesee and Abbot John Eudes
Bamberger. For five years, every May we spent a week there on retreat.
On one of those retreats we met Henri Nouwen, who was living at
the abbey as a guest member of the community for seven months. It was the abbot
who advised Henri to stay with his writing, obviously his true vocation. He has
since written 30 books and inspired many readers. May he rest in peace and
enjoy the company of Jesus.
Sr. M. Kathleen Stefani Leavenworth, Kan.
My reflections go way back to 1964-'65 when Henri Nouwen was in
the program for religion and psychiatry at Menniger's Clinic in Topeka. At that
time I was teaching at Hayden High School, which was very near the Menniger
Clinic. As part of his program at Menniger's, Fr. Nouwen was assigned to Hayden
High School to do some counseling with the students. I think now how fortunate
the students were to have Fr. Nouwen as a counselor.
At the time he was with us at Hayden we were "stewing" about the
students' lack of conformity with the dress code -- wearing the wrong color
socks, wearing a blouse or shirt other than the one accepted as the uniform,
etc. Fr. Nouwen gave us the sound advice that it was better to keep the dress
code and the uniform because students of that age had to rebel against
something and the uniform was a rather minor thing to be rebelling against. He
was a very down-to-earth, practical person and it was a real gift to associate
with him at Hayden.
Jean M. Fecteau Salem, Mass.
To say that Henri Nouwen has had a profound influence on my life
with its joys, struggles and searching would scarcely depict the myriad of
memories I shall always cherish.
I was privileged to know Henri through his wonderful writing and
as my teacher at Boston College just before his departure for Troily in France.
His extraordinary gifts as one who could render the compassion and love of
Jesus through sharing his own tireless search for God, delightful, humorous
stories, Taize music, spontaneity, presence and genuine warmth and hospitality
are ones which I shall always treasure. I can still picture with amazing
clarity the concluding evening prayer held on a hillside at the Chestnut Hill
campus on a July evening with Henri leading us in the beautiful Taize chant
prayer, "Ubi Caritas" -- one of his particular favorites. Absolutely no one
wanted to leave that moment. ...
Henri's joy and his disarming way of making Christ present to all
in his company were all part of his amazing ministry to all who knew and loved
him. Once, while visiting Daybreak with a few friends, I was blessed to share
liturgy in the simple chapel where he invited us to break bread and the Word
with him, and we were privileged to experience firsthand his wonderful and
generous hospitality and love.
When Henri's own mentor and spiritual guide, Pere Thomas Philippe
died, Henri said that in death Pere Thomas would become a gift all people. "Now
he can send the spirit of Jesus to everyone."
Katharine O. Weaver Topeka, Kan.
In the '60s, during the struggle of the blacks in the southern
states for equality, Fr. Nouwen was at Menninger Foundation in Topeka, studying
in the School of Pastoral Care. He was invited by our pastor at St. Matthew's
Church to speak to any adults who cared to attend. His story was heart-rending.
He told of having watched the evening news, as did many of us,
horrified at hoses turned full-force on marchers, dogs let loose to terrify
and, probably most revolting of all, the hate on the faces of onlookers and the
police paid to uphold the law. He said he went to bed depressed and could not
sleep, but lay awake reviewing the scenes the television had played out. He
thought: Why doesn't somebody do something to stop this?
Then, he said, it occurred to him that he was somebody. And,
unlike many who might have liked to help, he could do something. He rose,
dressed, and left, in his "little Vauxwagen" for Selma, Ala. Along the way, he
picked up a hitchhiker who, he discovered, had had the same thoughts but no
car. The two made their way to Selma, where they participated in the famous
march that awakened a nation to the struggles of a people for simple civil
rights.
Fr. John Raab, CMF Rome
I met Fr. Henri Nouwen by surprise. I knew his face but I did not
expect to see him in such an audience. It was when he was speaking in Berkeley
in 1994. Some of his friends had brought him to hear a talk given by two
berdaches at St. Augustine's Parish in Oakland. I never suspected that he had
an interest in lesbian and gay people. It made me go back and find some of his
early writings on the subject of homosexuality. I found them unusually
understanding for the time.
Fr. Joseph Gallagher Baltimore, Md.
A friend of mine who was about to be ordained a priest sent a gift
to an artist friend who was also about to be ordained. The gift was a book by
Henri Nouwen. The recipient took the book with him on a private retreat and was
struck by one particular sentence in the book. He decided to walk in the woods
and look for a stone on which to paint the sentence and send it as a return
gift to his friend. As he walked about, slowly looking at the ground another
retreatant passed by and asked his if he had lost something. He explained the
situation to the passerby. Smiling, the stranger replied, "Well, I'm Henri
Nouwen. Let's look together."
Cathleen L. Curry Elk Point, S.D.
The year was 1981. I was just beginning my work with Beginning
Experience, the volunteer group that provides healing weekends for widowed,
divorced and separated men and women. Although still on the road to recovery
after the death of my husband, I was reaching out to help others who were
beginning their journey. Nouwen's thin, little book, The Wounded Healer,
lit up my path. In the following years he encouraged, cajoled, explained and
walked with me as I tried to discern God's will, showing me how Jesus, my
friend, brother and lover, was accompanying me along the way.
We'll miss you, Henri, those of us you have mentored. But your
books are still on our shelves, ready to guide us back to the path when we
stray. You truly were "a parent of the future."
Rose Marciano Lucey Oakland, Calif.
Our family first met Henri in the gracious days when the church
was in flower -- seems so long ago now. He was still at Harvard and came for a
a visit with us. From the moment we met, he became for us both mentor and
example. At the time we still owned the San Ysidro Shops in the Los Angeles and
San Francisco areas. We invited Henri to meet with local people and talk to us
about the renewal of the church -- which we longed for.
His first lecture was crowded with men and women of all ages and
from then on he became a treasured visitor in the halls and churches of
California. Harvard was not, for Henri, the place to meet the "ordinary" people
of the church. He gave of himself graciously wherever he agreed to preach.
There was no guile with Henri. What you saw and heard was his love of his
chosen vocation and his openness to all the people who surrounded him.
As the years went by, Henri moved to L'Arche, though he continued
his lectures. Often one of the men from L'Arche would accompany him on his
journeys. His companion would always sit on the stage with Henri to be
introduced to us all.
Henri was no stranger to the world in which we all live. Invited
to tag along with some local people "to see the sights," he saw San Francisco
areas little known to most visitors. He was interested in learning through
books, but he wanted more to learn by being with people.
Sr. Connie Ostrander, OSB Jamaica, West Indies
My friendship with Henri began in 1983, when I was on the NCEA
Board of Education and he came to give the opening address for the convention.
We enjoyed wonderfully refreshing conversations and in June of 1984 he lived at
my Benedictine monastery, St. Bede Priory, Eau Claire, Wis. while writing one
of his books. During that time, he was actively discerning a leave from
academia, from Harvard Divinity School. To his questioning, I remarked, "Henri,
in my 20s I worked with handicapped persons and found the ministry most
refreshing. What if you would work with handicapped people for a giving
ministry and rest your mind for awhile?" He looked at me as if in mild shock.
Shortly afterward Henri Nouwen met John Vanier and John's mother in France as
well as the community of L'Arche. John Vanier invited Henri to minister with
the community of Daybreak, Canada, and thus began his ministry of love for the
past 11 years -- years of breaking thousands of loaves of love!
Praying with Henri is my most sacred personal memory of him. We
discovered we each had similar prayer rooms with a primary decor of brown
carpet, a piece of driftwood and the Trinity icon. Each evening, after my work
at the monastery and his writing, we would come together at 7 for conversation,
followed by prayer in my prayer room. Etched in my memory is one of the
evenings when we were praying prostrate on the floor. I heard the intensity in
his voice as he begged God to protect the people he knew in South America. I
opened my eyes and saw his massive hands tensed with the depth of his words,
dug deeply into the carpet. In that one motion, I knew more than ever before
how great was his love for the suffering and poor of the world. I also knew I
had another permeating image of prayer.
I am currently a missionary in Mandeville, Jamaica, West Indies,
working with and for the poor and for the newly established Mandeville
vicariate. I recall Henri encouraging the inclusion of chapels in Catholic
workspaces, saying, "Whenever and wherever you can, suggest that chapels be
built."
As is widely known, Henri loved children and the poor. In them, he
experienced the face of Jesus. I recall his fondness for my niece, Tessie, when
she was five years old. I believe she is the only one who can boast that she
rode with Henri in bumper cars. She begged him to go with her when we stopped
at the Wisconsin Dells. Perhaps the pictures of them in the bumper cars are
rare pictures of Henri playing. His delight was childlike as he explained that
he had never been at an amusement park. Tessie called him, "Uncle Fr. Henri
Nouwen." She is now 17, but remembers well Henri's gift to her for her first
communion 10 years ago. He sent her a cross from Guatemala and a letter about
the importance of her first Holy Communion. In it Henri wrote, "Tessie,
remember this always. Stay close to Jesus. If you stay always close to the
poor, you will be close to Jesus."
Erik Mansager Phoenix
I was a college seminarian at St. Thomas in Denver at the time,
and struggling quite personally, as probably many seminarians do about whether
to petition my bishop for candidacy and continue my studies in theology. Early
in 1976 I celebrated my 21st birthday. My mom had made it up from southern
Arizona to celebrate it with me and we attended the spring semester guest
lecture delivered by Henri Nouwen. Having read several of his books on
ministry, I was looking forward to hearing him. But I remember my mother, not
knowing what to expect, was also deeply touched at his delivery and, in spite
of the large crowd, the personalism that pervaded his talk.
At a reception after the talk, I remember asking Nouwen how one
was to know if one was truly being called to the priesthood. He answered with
such directness and sincerity, whenever I read a book of his to this day, I
recall his gentle gaze and delightful accent: He reminded me that there should
be no doubt that we are all called by God to serve. We need not and must not
doubt that. It is a harder thing, at times to discern where we are called to,
he said. "But even in that, we mustn't forget," I remember him as saying, "that
God is with us precisely where we are even as we are on the way."
Sr. Margaret Treacy RSHM Zimbabwe
Henri Nouwen's passion for living life to the full and for
creating community wherever he went, has left a lasting impression on me. I had
the honor of being in his presence many times over the past 20 years and I
always came away filled with joy and hope. He was the kind of man who made
Jesus come alive in the here and now. What greater gift could he give us? Thank
you, Henri.
Joseph J. Clauss Royal Oak, Mich.
I am a 67-year-old man who left the priesthood over 25 years ago.
All I have to offer in tribute to the memory of Henri Nouwen are the tears that
welled up in my eyes when I heard of his death. I was a contemporary of Henri
Nouwen who taught me how to stay in touch with Jesus through many turbulent
years. He is now with his Beloved. I hope to join him there someday.
Kathleen Stoeser Tucson, Ariz.
Quite honestly, when I became a Catholic I didn't know why. I knew
that somewhere in the midst of what we discussed each week was a genuine
Catholic spirituality and God was calling me to that. What that spirituality
was, however, eluded me -- until I discovered the work of Henri Nouwen. First,
it was through a small booklet of Lenten meditations. I remember exclaiming,
"So this is what Lent is all about!"
My exclamations have continued as I have discovered his other work
through the years. Fr. Nouwen has given me words to express feelings and needs
about healing, forgiveness, intimacy, brokenness and what it means to be the
body of Christ. Of late, I have been able to say, "So this is what it means to
be catholic" (lower-case c intentional).
At his death, I mourn the loss of a friend. But now his gentle
spirit embraces me and the world with endless opportunities to love and heal
and forgive, a very comforting thought.
Fr. Carl J. Moell, SJ Cincinnati, Ohio
When Henri Nouwen published his book Heart Speaks to Heart:
Three Prayers to Jesus, written at the gentle but persistent prodding of
Madam Pauline Vanier, I bought a copy and read it. I was so moved by it that I
wrote him a short letter to thank him for having written it. I had never met
him and I did not expect a reply. To my surprise I received a personal letter
from him thanking me for taking the time to write him and sending me a copy of
his latest book (at that time), Beyond the Mirror: reflections on death and
life.
Deacon Al Girodo Oneonta, Ala.
In 1984 I listened to Henri's audio tape on his trip to Nicaragua.
I'll never forget his way of speaking that was singularly Nouwen. He was
speaking to women in Northern Nicaragua who were telling their stories about
the contras who had come into their homes and murdered their sons and husbands.
In all their pain and loss they were able to talk about forgiveness. I remember
Henri saying their words on the tape, "Well, we must forgive them. Yes we
forgive them".
Shortly after I heard the tape, I bought his book Gracias.
It was about that trip. I took the book with me and used it as a journal during
my own visit to Nicaragua in June 1984. Just as Henri helped me to live, I look
forward to him helping me how to die. Gracias, Henri.
Frank X. Tuoti Tucson, Ariz.
I met Henri Nouwen only once, during the mid-'70s when he was at
Yale Divinity School. I had just started teaching the thought and spirituality
of Thomas Merton (I was a Trappist at Gethsemani during the '50s) and wrote to
Nouwen about my undertaking. I had heard that he was "teaching Merton" at Yale.
He invited me to visit him, which I did since I lived not too far away in
Connecticut.
After our talk, he excused himself and brought back a box of file
folders. He had photocopied all of his notes and materials on Merton for me,
including about 20 folders of copies of Merton's typewritten letters, essays
and articles, most of which were unpublished at the time, and a few remain so.
In addition to such thoughtfulness, he personally indexed the subject matter at
the top of each file folder for my convenience. All this out of the spontaneous
goodness of his heart.
He recounted his first and only meeting with Merton at Gethsemani.
Merton came down from his hermitage to greet him at the monastery, and then
invited Nouwen to get together with him at the hermitage later that day. As
they were parting, Nouwen said, Merton turned and called back to him: "Bring a
six-pack with you." May God enfold them both.
Tuoti is director of the Tucson Thomas Merton Society.
Fr. Richard M. Nahman Jamaica, N.Y.
As Henri Nouwen said to me one day, for the developmentally
disabled with whom he lived, his academic and literary accomplishments meant
absolutely nothing. It was only one's genuineness -- being "real"--that
mattered.
Nancy S. Coyle Crawfordsville, Ind.
When National Public Radio broadcast the news of Henri Nouwen's
death, I was in disbelief. For a few days I was unable to find an obituary so I
remained in denial. How I wanted it to be false! How I wanted to know that this
inspirational contemporary in my life continued with my same internal
struggles. For me he was one of the very few who not only "talked the talk but
walked the walk" of the suffering where the the Divine awaits us. Henri's
writings spoke to me deeply. From him I learned, "When we speak most
personally, we speak most universally."
Through our Notre Dame University daughter, my husband and I in
the company of friends traveled to South Bend to hear him speak for the first
time. With members of the L'Arche community on stage with him, I felt drawn to
this individual who for so many years had been my spiritual mentor. It was with
embarrassment that I asked him to sign my well-worn copy of Reaching Out
-- coffee stains and all -- that had become my bedside bible. His response was
one of warmth and pleasure. I was made to feel that we were, indeed, old
friends.
Joseph H. Maguire Worcester, Mass.
I first met him one summer in the mid-1960s at the University of
Notre Dame where I was teaching and he was visiting. I knew at once that this
was no ordinary man. Soon I was reading his articles with titles such as
From Magic to Faith (which to this day is my favorite brief commentary
on religious development and maturation). Soon I began reading about him and
buying his books.
Two of his earlier books, The Wounded Healer (on ministry)
and Reaching Out (with a wonderful treatment of hospitality and
teaching) have been mainstays of much of my work as an educator for more than
20 years. I have given away perhaps a thousand copies of his various books to
students, colleagues, friends and clergy. Nouwen spoke and wrote always with a
great clarity of style and thought. I used his books in courses I taught and in
dealing with friends and students in moments of spiritual need.
Henri Nouwen's pen has been stilled but because he was once here,
"all the ground between us is holy ground." I thank you, Henri, and I thank God
for you.
Kim B. Mallet Washington
In 1991 I was hired to teach religion at a Catholic high school in
Oakland, Calif. Fr. Nouwen gave a talk at a local parish and afterward I mixed
in the crowd around him. I greatly understood being "taken," "blessed," had no
doubts about having been "broken" but I was soon to be "shared" at this new
job. Did he have any advice? Fr. Nouwen looked thoughtful for a moment and said
to me: "You have to love them."
David Martin and Joseph Stellpflug Toronto, Canada
Henri has been a personal friend of ours for over eight years.
Since we live in Toronto and the L'Arche Daybreak community is nearby, Henri
would often call and come to dinner at our home. When we look around our home,
we see many art images by Van Gogh, Rembrandt and others that Henri gave us.
All of these pictures held great significance for him and us, may depicting
human embraces that reflect the love of God for us.
At our simple meals, Henri would always share his heart with us.
He was often lonely or anxious, excited or playful, frustrated or sad. He was
very human and he was not afraid to share his experiences with us, no matter
how personal or serious. In return, Henri always listened attentively to the
concerns of our hearts. He was genuinely concerned with our well-being. He
constantly affirmed our work in the AIDS-affected community of Toronto. We have
lost many friends to AIDS and cancer. Henri helped us to see death in a new way
that bears fruitfulness and new ways of experiencing those who have died. We
have cried with him and rejoiced with him. He is truly one of our dearest
friends.
Ann Hennessy Rock Hall, Md.
Some years ago, when I was making a mid-life career decision, I
came upon Henri Nouwen's The Wounded Healer. His concept that we become
effective healers by very reason of our own woundedness was a new idea to me.
It made sense. It enabled me to trust my ability to become an effective healer.
Encouraged by Nouwen's words, I became a professional pastoral psychotherapist,
a calling I've found to be very rewarding.
Camilla C. Shumaker Paducah, Ky.
I always wanted to meet Fr. Nouwen. I feel sad that he has left
us. I know his death is connected to the resurrection of Jesus Christ and that
one of the paradoxes of death is that in Fr. Nouwen's dying, we will experience
new life.
Fr. Arthur F. Wright Cambridge, Mass.
As a priest of 29 years, I know that God can and does work
marvelous changes in our lives at any stage. His writings were a great source
of spiritual encouragement and joy to me as a priest challenged to see my life
and ministry in new ways. I will miss his writings and I will miss him. May he
be with the Lord he so faithfully sought.
Fr. Tom McNally, CSC Hayward, Calif.
Henri's time at Notre Dame University in the 1960s was relatively
brief but he made a world of difference for many of us -- especially a group of
Holy Cross priests like myself who were experiencing shell-shock after the
heady days of Vatican II. He conducted a semester-long course for us in
ministry that put things in perspective for all of us and opened up new vistas
for most. What a gracious and good man, insightful and immensely enthusiastic!
During his stint at Notre Dame, the Catholic Charismatic Movement was big news
on campus. I suggested to friends at NCR that they cover this story and
make sure they interviewed a young priest psychologist named Henri Nouwen.
NCR did so and, I believe, Henri's "take" on this issue -- balanced and
insightful as always -- was his introduction to NCR readers.
Paul J. Garavente Chatham, N.J.
I had a class with Fr. Nouwen at Harvard Divinity School while I
was a Harvard senior in 1985. As mentioned in your article, many of his classes
were standing room only, and this one was no exception. We started each class
with five minutes of silent prayer. What a departure from the norm! As you
know, Harvard isn't exactly the most religious institution around, but Fr.
Nouwen allowed us to get comfortable with silence.
Daniel J. Maloney Immaculata, Pa.
I heard the news of Henri Nouwen's death just as I had started
reading his most recent book, Can You Drink This Cup? (Ave Maria Press,
1996). His death struck me deeply, as if I myself had lost a member of my own
family. He was too young! He had so much left to teach! In the intensity of my
reaction to his death, I realized how profoundly this man had influenced my
life for over 20 years.
In his final book on "the Cup" -- essentially the cup of life --
Henri wrote of our being called to live our lives through the message of Jesus'
cup written about in Luke's Gospel as "the cup of a New Covenant." Using the
ideas of "holding," "lifting," and "drinking," Henri explored the complexities
of life, the joys and the inevitable sorrows and the necessity of our "drinking
the cup -- even to its very dregs" -- as the path to salvation. There is a
certain prescience in Nouwen's last book, perhaps of his own impending death,
for it looks at life not just in part but in a totality -- the manner in which
we should live, from beginning to end, and the means toward our ultimate
fulfillment in salvation upon our deaths.
Fr. Pat Fitzpatrick CSSP Toronto, Canada
At Yale in the fall of 1979 Henri introduced me to his fellow
countryman Vincent van Gogh. He led a group of us on a guided walk through
Vincent's life -- as artist, but above all as letter writer. Unknown to me
then, Henri was taking us through his own personal journey.
Was it Vincent's restlessness that drew Henri to him? "There is
something inside me, what can it be? I want to reach so far that people will
say of my work: he feels deeply, he feels tenderly," van Gogh wrote. Henri's
own reach was as expansive as Vincent's.
At Yale we spent much time on Vincent's Potato Eaters. In
this end-of-day meal shared by three generations, five people are seated around
a kitchen table, the potatoes are steaming, the coffee is being poured. Seven
gnarled, knuckled hands reach for food or drink under the yellow light of an
oil lamp. Soil, potatoes and people blend in the muddy colors of these hungry
diners. Here Henri found something totally ordinary yet ruggedly grand. Is that
what eventually attracted him to Daybreak?
Was he, in fact, en route to L'Arche all his life? "If I am to
capture their soul," wrote Vincent, "I must live in their cottages and be in
their fields day after day." Both Dutchmen had difficulty settling down. "To
continue, to continue is what is needed," wrote the artist. It seems only
fitting that an end-of-the-century spiritual writer should die en route --
personally fitting that he should die on my birthday.
Jean Nelson Eugene, Ore.
Henri's recent works sit on my desk now, waiting for the time when
I can read them with less sadness for my (our) loss and more joy in the
knowledge that this wonderful friend can still be a mentor and guide. I thank
God for the gift he is to us and I rejoice in his happiness.
Fr. Anthony P. Palazzolo Jacksonville, Fla.
I am 64 years of age. I have been an ordained Roman Catholic
priest for approximately 2 1/2 years, and Henri Nouwen, albeit unknowingly,
played a significant part in this miracle.
I was the single parent of three children whom I raised through
high school and college, and a successful business executive of 30 years.
However, I was experiencing a spiritual void. Dr. Kenneth Carder (now Bishop
Carder), a Methodist minister and friend, suggested I read "one of your boys,"
as he put it: The Wounded Healer. This was followed by Reaching
Out, Compassion, Seeds of Hope, Gracias, Genessee
Diary, etc., almost all of Henri's books. These inspirational and
provocative works encouraged me to answer a call to the priesthood after
completing a M.S. in counseling psychology in December 1989.
Three years later I wrote Nouwen and sent him an invitation to and
explanation about my ordination and his indispensable part. A few weeks later,
I received a warm and affectionate letter and a gift of his newest book, The
Return of the Prodigal Son. Henri Nouwen continues to contribute hope and
courage and confidence to my ministry along with a renewed dedication to our
Heavenly Father who endowed Henri Nouwen with such remarkable gifts.
National Catholic Reporter, November 15,
1996
|