happy new year !

it happened that I spent some of the last hours
of 2009
reflecting on a book by Henri Nouwen.

I was asked to read it and write reflections,
and it's been suggested that I post those reflections, make them findable as part of the Henri Nouwen discussion at large. . . so here it is, my response to Can You Drink the Cup? I'm posting this critique, too, as a statement of hope and of intent : that this year, God's people stand up firmly in the Gospel, in the hope of Christ alone.
A new year, an eternal message; a message that we continue to dwell in and press to make heard: our call is to be the aroma of Christ, to the perishing and to the chosen.

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I've long been blessed and enriched by many of Henri Nouwen's insights about living with disability and vulnerability, and about life in real community. I was blessed by these again in Can You Drink the Cup?, but I find myself troubled by how much Nouwen emphasizes self-knowledge, self-acceptance and acceptance of joy and sorrow without emphasizing the glorious joy to be found in the work that Christ alone has accomplished for us. Some of what Nouwen says in this work is right and helpful, but without the foundational truth we possess as Christians bought and covered by Christ's blood, his words are lacking in the substance and power found only in the Gospel. I realize now that I've often read Nouwen assuming that he shares in holding to that truth. This time, I stood back and realized that the path Nouwen promotes is lacking some very critical emphases of the Way which Christ and the Bible espouse.

The context in which “the cup” appears in Scripture (Matthew 20) concludes that the Son of Man came not to be served by us – not just that we might copy Him by drinking the cup – but to serve! Only Christ had to drink of the cup of dereliction, of God-forsakenness, the cup of the wrath of God. The cup spoken of is the cup of servanthood and of costly suffering, not a general image of “the mixed joys and sorrows of life,” as Nouwen has portrayed it. Nouwen does affirm that the cup includes suffering, but overall, he puts far too much emphasis on us, on our work, going inward to find God there, and far too little on the work that Christ has done! "Holding, lifting, and drinking” the cup have far more to do, Scripturally, with what Christ has done than with what we should do – and while we should certainly seek to follow our Lord and Master, I believe we will do it rightly if we are looking at Him and living in dramatic gratitude for HIS drinking the cup.

"We can choose to drink the cup of our life with the deep conviction that by drinking it we will find our true freedom. Thus, we will discover that the cup of sorrow and joy we are drinking is the cup of salvation” (90), says Nouwen. This is a dangerously incorrect statement. Drinking “the cup of our life” is not drinking “the cup of salvation.” If “living my life to the full” and accepting joy and sorrow mingled in my life are the way to salvation, then there is no real need for Christ at all. This is not the Biblical message. “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified...My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power” (1 Corinthians 2:2,4,5).

I still really appreciate Nouwen's words about weakness and the deep value of people with severe disabilities. I love the stories he shares about friends with what the world deems 'handicaps'-- the way that bravery, vulnerability, silliness, love can transform life, can show Christ, can teach and bless every one of us. I love Nouwen's appreciation for what he has learned from the work of caregiving, the intimacy of spending day in and day out caring for another person's needs, and finding that one's own needs are somehow met in the process of loving. I believe we can learn much about Christ and the heart of God through these labors, through these experiences of love and relationship.

I also am taught and edified by Nouwen's reflections on intimacy and vulnerability: “Nothing is sweet or easy about community. Community is a fellowship of people who do not hide their joys and sorrows but make them visible to each other in a gesture of hope” (63). I agree wholeheartedly with this as a statement about the Body of Christ, the Church, and agree that it's Christlike and Christ-reflective to be vulnerable and honest with one another, to see one another's flaws and struggles, to share in them in Christ. I just wish Nouwen would refer to Scripture and to the Head of the Body more in his advocacy of vulnerability and community; without the saving work of Christ and His powerful life in us now, we may be very open and sharing, but we will be just a bunch of vulnerable, hope-less people, sharing our way straight into the grave.

I'm thankful for Nouwen's affirmation that the long walk of saying yes to following Christ will often feel hard, feel sorrowful. This book affirms that there is something more important than 'easy' and 'hard,' that there is mixture in “the cup.” I'm thankful, too, for the encouragement that the apparent prestige or lowliness of a given person are no indicators whatsoever of whether that person is being obedient, here and now, to the voice of Christ in her life.

I'm glad Nouwen wrote of his experience embracing the joy and the suffering of life; I am taught by his encouragement to seek the joy amidst the sorrow, and to hope for the day when we will taste the joy in full. I wish for Nouwen and his readers the joy that comes from looking at the finished work of Christ on the cross, and the glory of the resurrected Life that alone brings us life. Without this, we have no hope at the end of our own 'cup.' I don't believe it is for us to say “It is finished,” as Nouwen suggests (p.110), at the end of our lives; Christ has said it, and He meant it, once for all—it is His to say, not mine. I get to live my small part, my life, within the joy of that—that finished work.

Because He drank the cup, I can ask Him for the grace and strength to drink my own...but His is the one that ultimately matters. I would rather focus, as I believe Christ intended, not on whether I can drink 'the cup of life,' but on the glorious truth that He drank the cup (hallelujah! !) that I might be reconciled to God. This is my joy amidst all life's suffering.

Happy new year!