The Habit of a Humble Heart
April 8, 2004 (Maundy Thursday)
by
The Rev. Linda Yeager,
Deacon
(From The Lectionary Page)
On this night Jesus bent down and did the job of a servant. He washed the dust and grime from the feet of his disciples. Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God, bent down and performed the work of the lowliest of slaves. And not only did he clean their feet, he also left a message for them and for us: "For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you." Just a few words, but such a difficult task.
I'd like to share with you the story of someone who I believe truly understood this example and lived it. His name is Henri Nouwen, and he is remembered as one of the great theologians of the twentieth century. But, more than that, he is remembered as a person who lived the words that Jesus spoke. Nouwen was born in the Netherlands in 1932, the oldest of four children of a tax lawyer father and a bookkeeper mother. His earliest years, he lived in a protected and safe environment. He lived his formative years during World War II, sometimes riding his bicycle into the country in search of food for the family, sometimes helping to hide his father from those who came in search of him for compulsory labor in Germany.
He was a good student, energetic and religious, and by the age of six he expressed a desire to become a priest. He was encouraged to follow this dream, especially by his grandmother, who built a tiny altar for him and sewed child-sized vestments for him to wear as he distributed "communion" to his stuffed animals.
After seminary, he was ordained to the Roman Catholic priesthood in 1957. Nouwen was drawn to pastoral ministry and, even though, at that time, his church frowned a bit on the study of psychology in conjunction with religion, he studied psychology for six years following his ordination. He worked as a pastor in the mines, as chaplain in the army and as a chaplain for immigrants coming to the United States. He studied two more years at the Menninger Clinic in Topeka, after which he taught psychology at Notre Dame. It was during this time that he began writing. In 1971 he began teaching at Yale, where he stayed for ten years. He was a very popular teacher and he loved his students. In addition, he wrote prolifically during this decade, including such Nouwen classics as "Making All Things New: An Invitation to the Spiritual Life" and The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society," a book, incidentally, which changed my life.
Well, you say, sounds as if we have a picture of a devout and brilliant priest, with a gift for writing and self-expression. And you are right. But it was during the Yale years that Nouwen had several experiences that led him even further into emulating Christ. First, he discovered solitude. He spent about seven months -- twice -- living as a monk at a Trappist monastery. He also studied at the Ecumenical Institute in Minnesota, where he learned to appreciate people of all faiths. And his beloved mother died, opening him to the grief that comes with the loss of the most influential person in one's life.
In the second half of the 1970s Nouwen became interested in the people of Central and South America and, in fact, moved to Peru for a time, where he experienced the suffering of the poor, later going to Harvard to be a teacher again.
By happenstance, Nouwen met the founder of L'Arche, an international movement of communities that welcome people with disabilities. He was so moved by the purpose and function of this community that he resigned from Harvard and moved to France where the original community of L'Arche was located. He then became pastor for the L'Arche community of Daybreak in Toronto. His book "The Road to Daybreak" speaks of the year he moved to Daybreak.
Nouwen believed that coming to Daybreak was like coming to his true home. He lived in a house with people with disabilities and was eventually asked to help Adam Arnett, a severely disabled man, with his morning routine. Adam was the weakest and most disabled person in the community. Although he was in his twenties, he couldn't speak, couldn't dress himself, couldn't walk or eat without help. In Nouwen's book "Adam, God's Beloved," written shortly before he died, Nouwen describes how Adam became his friend, his teacher, and his guide.
In describing his days with Adam, Nouwen said,
"It takes me about an hour and a half to wake Adam up, give him his medication, carry him into his bath, wash him, shave him, clean his teeth, dress him, walk him to the kitchen, give him his breakfast, put him in his wheelchair and bring him to the place where he spends most of the day with therapeutic exercises. ... He does not cry or laugh. Only occasionally does he make eye contact. His back is distorted. His arm and leg movements are twisted. He suffers from severe epilepsy and, despite heavy medication, sees few days without grand-mal seizures. Sometimes, as he grows suddenly rigid, he utters a howling groan. On a few occasions I've seen one big tear roll down his cheek."
Nouwen learned how to feed, change, bathe, and care for Adam in every way. In the book "Soul Survivor," Philip Yancey describes Nouwen's experience in this way:
"He ministered not to leaders and intellectuals but to a young man who was considered by many a vegetable, a useless person who should not have been born. Yet Nouwen gradually learned that he, not Adam, was the chief beneficiary . . . . From the hours spent with Adam, Nouwen gained an inner peace that made most of his other, more high-minded tasks seem boring and superficial."
And Nouwen said that he learned many valuable truths from Adam.
"Keep your eyes on the one who refuses to turn stones into bread, jump from great heights or rule with great temporal power," Nouwen said. "Keep your eyes on the one who says, 'Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the merciful, the peacemakers and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness' . .. . Keep your eyes on the one who is poor with the poor, weak with the weak and rejected with the rejected. That one is the source of all peace."
I like, too, Nouwen's definition of compassion. When speaking of L'Arche, he said, "Here we see what compassion means. It is not a bending toward the underprivileged from a privileged position; it is not a reaching out from on high to those who are less fortunate below; it is not a gesture of sympathy or pity for those who fail to make it in the upward pull. On the contrary, compassion means going directly to those people and places where suffering is most acute and building a home there."
Nouwen died in 1996. Over one thousand people attended his funeral, including people of many races, faiths, economic levels, some leading intellectuals and some labeled mentally handicapped, his family from Holland and the children of L'Arche Daybreak, peace activists, military chaplains, and dancers in wheelchairs. He has left us a legacy of great writing and even greater living.
I tell you the story of Henri Nouwen for a couple of reasons. First, I hope that you will be inspired to read one of his books. Even more, however, is my hope that you will find in his life what Jesus asks us all to embrace, and that is a humble spirit. Not many of us will dedicate our lives to the care of a single person like Adam, although I know some people who do, but each of us can carry within us the peace that comes from living with a humble spirit toward one another. Each of us can listen with greater caring; each of us can be less judgmental; each of us can spend time in quiet contemplation; each of us can minister to others with love and humility. The habit of a humble heart is the message that I hope we can take both from the writings and, even more, from the life of one who lived Jesus' words: "For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you."