Henri J. M. Nouwen - Life of the Beloved

Praise for Life of the Beloved

Gentle and searching. This Crossroad book is a spiritual primer for anyone seeking God. The Other Side

Nouwens prose is refreshingly straightforward and jargon-free.... For those unfamiliar with his work, this volume is a wonderful place to begin. For others who have benefited from Nouwens insights, Life of the Beloved will be welcomed as yet another significant achievement.

Circuit Rider

A beautiful and sensitive book that reaches out to the believer. Church and Synagogue Library Association

Brings affirmation and renewal to the reader. Anyone who is searching for the Spirit of God in the world today will benefit from reading it. Horizons

Nouwen writes with a disarming simplicity and honesty. He shows a vulnerability that bonds him with the reader from the beginning. The Catholic World

Profound. Christian Living

An engaging, highly practical book about the spiritual life. Powerful. Whisperings

LIFE of the BELOVED

LIFE of the BELOVED

SPIRITUAL LIVING IN A SECULAR WORLD

Henri J.M. Nouwen

A Crossroad Book

The Crossroad Publishing Company

New York

CROSSROAD NEW YORK

The Crossroad Publishing Company

www.crossroadpublishing.com

2002 by Henri Nouwen

Crossroad, Herder & Herder, and the crossed C logo/colophon are trademarks of The Crossroad Publishing Company.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available from the Library of Congress.

e-ISBN: 978-0-8245-2063-2

Cover design by: Stefan Killen Design

Cover art: Vincent van Gogh, Cafe Terrace at night, 1888.

Rijksmuseum. Erich Lessing/Art

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Printed in the United States of America

To Connie Ellis in gratitude

Contents

This book was written and made ready for publication with the support of many friends. I first of all want to thank Connie Ellis for her secretarial assistance and for the many ways in which she encouraged me to keep writing during busy times. I dedicate Life of the Beloved to her in deep gratitude for her faithful friendship and generous support. I am also grateful to Conrad Wieczorek for the many ways in which he offered his editorial assistance to Connie and myself in the final stages of the manuscript.

A special word of thanks goes to Patricia Beall, Diana Chambers, Gordon Cosby, Bart Gavigan, Steve Jenkinson, Sue Mosteller, Dolly Reisman, Susan Zimmerman, and my editor at Crossroad, Bob Heller, for their many encouraging words and concrete suggestions to bring this text to completion.

Finally I want to express my thanks to Peggy McDonnell, her family and friends, for their friendship and their generous financial support and to the Franciscan Community in Freiburg, Germany, who offered me a safe and prayerful place to write.

A Friendship Begins

This book is the fruit of a longstanding friendship, and you will read it with more profit, I believe, if I begin by telling you the story of this friendship. A little more than ten years ago, while I was teaching at Yale Divinity School, a young man arrived in my office to interview me for the Connecticut section of the Sunday edition of the New York Times. He introduced himself as Fred Bratman. As we sat down to talk, I quickly found myself taken hold of by a mixture of irritation and fascination. I was irritated because it was clear that this journalist was not terribly interested in doing what he was doing. Someone had suggested to him that I might be a good subject for a profile. He had followed up on the suggestion, but I couldnt detect any great eagerness to know me or any ardent desire to write about me. It was a journalists job that had to be done, but could easily be done without. Nevertheless, there was also an element of fascination because I sensed, behind the mask of indifference, a spirit fully aliveeager to learn and to create. I somehow knew that I was face to face with a man full of great personal gifts, anxiously searching for a way to use them.

After a half-hour of questions that seemed of little interest to either of us, it became obvious that the interview had come to an end. An article would be written; a few people might read it, and there would be little, if any, outcome. The two of us knew this, and we both sensed that we could have put our time to better use.

Just as Fred was about to put his notebook back into his briefcase and say his customary Thank you, I looked at him squarely and said, Tell me, do you like your job? Quite to my surprise, he replied, without much thought, No, not really, but its a job. Somewhat naively I responded, If you dont like it, why do you do it? For the money, of course, he said, and then, without further questioning from me, added, Although I really love to write, doing these little newspaper profiles frustrates me because the limitations of length and form prevent me from doing justice to my subject. How, for example, can I say something in depth about you and your ideas when I can only use 750 words to express it?... but what choice do I have?... You have to make a living. I should be happy to have at least this to do! In his voice I heard both anger and resignation.

Suddenly it hit me that Fred was close to surrendering his dreams. He looked to me like a prisoner locked behind the bars of a society forcing him to work at something in which he didnt believe. Looking at him, I experienced a deep sympathymore than that I dare saya deep love for this man. Beneath the sarcasm and the cynicism I sensed a beautiful heart, a heart that wanted to give, to create, to live a fruitful life. His sharp mind, his openness about himself and the simple trust he put in me made me feel that our meeting could not just be something accidental. What was happening between us seemed to me quite similar to what happened when Jesus looked steadily at the rich young man and was filled with love for him (Mark 10:21).

Quite spontaneously I felt a strong desire rise up in me to liberate him from his imprisonment and to help him to discover how to fulfill his own deepest desires.

What do you really want? I asked.

I want to write a novel... but Ill never be able to do it.

Is this something you really want? I asked. He looked at me with surprise on his face and said with a smile, Yes, it is,... but Im also afraid because Ive never written a novel, and maybe I dont have what it takes to be a novelist. How will you find out? I asked. Well, I probably wont ever be able to find out. You need time, money and, most of all, talent, and I dont have any.

You are free to do what you want

if, that is, you really want it!

By now I had become angry at him, at society, and, to some degree, at myself for letting things just be as they are. I felt a strong urge to break down all these walls of fear, convention, social expectations and self-deprecation, and I blurted out, Why dont you quit your job and write your novel? I cant, he said.... I kept pushing him, If you really want it, you can do it. You dont have to be the victim of time and money. At this point, I realized that I had become involved in a battle I was determined to win. He sensed my intensity and said, Well, Im just a simple journalist, and I guess I should be content with that. No, you shouldnt, I said. You should claim your deepest desire and do what you really want to do... time and money arent the real issue. What is? he asked. You are, I answered. You have nothing to lose. You are young, full of energy, well trained.... Everything is possible for you.... Why let the world squeeze you in?... Why become a victim? You are free to do what you wantif, that is, you really want it!