T(r)oy's Marbles

“After twenty years in the academic world as a teacher of pastoral psychology, pastoral theology, and Christian spirituality, I began to experience a deep inner threat. As I entered into my fifties and was able to realize the unlikelihood of doubling my years, I came face to face with the simple question, ‘Did becoming older bring me closer to Jesus?’ After twenty-five years of priesthood, I found myself praying poorly, living somewhat isolated from other people, and very much preoccupied with burning issues. Everyone was saying that I was doing really well, but something inside was telling me that my success was putting my own soul in danger. I began to ask myself whether my lack of contemplative prayer, my loneliness, and my constantly changing involvement in what seemed most urgent were signs that the Spirit was gradually being suppressed. It was very hard for me to see clearly, and though I never spoke about hell or only jokingly so, I woke up one day with the realization that I was living in a very dark place and that the term ‘burnout’ was a convenient psychological translation for a spiritual death.”

I’d like you to take note of a powerful sentence in the midst of that lengthy quote. It’s this: “Everyone was saying that I was doing really well, but something inside was telling me that my success was putting my own soul in danger.”

Nouwen speaks of a “deep, inner threat.” Further, he asks a haunting question: “Did becoming older bring me closer to Jesus?” We do well to ask ourselves that same question. We do well to consider whether the Spirit’s work of regeneration is “gradually being suppressed” in our own hearts, whether we, too, possess a “deep, inner threat”.

This story tells us some things:

1. It is possible to be “doing well” and not to be doing well (if you see what I mean).
2. There can be a disconnect between what we do in our occupational life and what happens in our heart.
3. Left untended, “deep inner threats” produce fruit in keeping with death.
4. If you become aware that something needs to change on the inside, remember: something can be done. That is, you are not in an impossible situation. There is hope. It is never too late. God can change you from the inside out. True, “with man this is impossible, but with God ALL things are possible.”

Yes, this is where hope comes in. Nouwen tended to this (and if he did it, you can, too). Specifically, he left his post at Harvard and moved to Canada to work with mentally handicapped people. There, among society’s marginalized, he learned what it meant to live life by heart.

Though this kind of radical life-change will likely not be required for all of us, Nouwen’s example bears a closer look, for there is much to be learned from his story. I’d like to dig into it by exploring some of its dimensions.

First of all, how does one go about developing an awareness of one’s internal motions? It seems that none of this would have happened if Nouwen had not become aware that something inside him was dead and needed rebirth.

May I suggest two possible ways of developing this needed awareness?

One: You just know.

This way of looking at it, however, presupposes that one actually takes the time to look inside oneself. And that, in that time, one is listening intently to God’s voice, allowing God room (as one is silent) to speak in the stillness.

To be more precise, this is the place of solitude to which the Desert Fathers retreated. It is this place of solitude that we see Nouwen pursuing in his move from Harvard to L’Arche. In fact, he tells us in his story that he moved to L’Arche because he heard God saying to him, “Go and live among the poor in spirit and they will heal you.” This is none other than the same call the Desert Fathers heard when they sensed God telling them to “sell all their possessions” and “flee the world”. They did this in order that they could learn to live as if God was all they had. And, in that context, one is transformed from the inside out as God does His work.

The problem is: what is one to do should one not have this context of solitude in which to hear God’s voice? Isn’t that part of the problem, to be precise? It’s a “catch-22”. This is to say: if you don’t have that place of solitude (a regular rhythm of stopping to truly hear God’s voice speaking to your heart), create one now.

And…

Two: You become aware of areas in which you need to grow through community. My good friend Hud McWilliams says, “Integrity is formed in community and tested in isolation.”

I think that’s true: the best way to work on your internal issues is to do so with a trusted friend. But, a word of caution: it should be someone who can truly help you. If you want your hearing to improve, you don’t ask a deaf person to help you distinguish sound. If you can’t see something clearly, you wouldn’t ask a blind person to describe the shapes and colors for you. In the same way, if you struggle with pride ask for help from someone who struggles less so, not more so, with your particular issue. In other words, this “trusted friend” can only be trusted to the extent that they too are being transformed from the inside out, that they have something of value to impart. Consider the source.

At any rate, this trusted friend also needs to be someone who is loving enough to help you work on who you really are on the inside. It needs to be someone who really knows you. Someone who knows that sometimes you even do good things with selfish intentions.

I recall a time recently when this happened. I had given a sermon the previous week. It was an okay sermon, as sermons go. But, parts of it were driven by an inner compulsion that…well…let’s just say wasn’t quite right.

Now: here’s the deal—

1. I knew it, but didn’t want to admit it.
and
2. A few good friends knew it too.

And, thank God, they “called me on it.”

Because of that, I had to tend to some serious heart issues. I started asking myself, “What is really going on in my heart? Why did I do that? What am I angry about? What do I feel I am entitled to?” etc.

I’m grateful to those friends because they helped me become aware that, inside, I was acquiring an aggressive spirit.

To be sure, not many people knew this was going on, because…see...I did a pretty good job of hiding it, of coming across as a “nice guy.”

But I knew that the movements of my heart were beginning to come out of hiding and that, if I didn’t tend to my heart, I would find myself acting more and more out of an aggressive attitude. I became aware that I needed a change of heart, to let God do a deeper work of renewal in my soul.

Let me say that again: “I needed a change of heart.”

I highlight this now to say a couple of things about “acceptance”.

Perhaps it would be most helpful to frame this issue by a question: “To what extent and in what ways should I accept ‘who I am’?”

I put it this way because I think that often we think of this issue of “acceptance of self” as a “cut and dried” kind of issue. We don’t think of it in these exact terms, but often it boils down to: “I am the way I am and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. And if you don’t like it, tough.”

But this attitude runs counter to the Gospel. The Good News of the Kingdom is that things don’t have to be this way anymore. The heart can be under new Management—if we let it.

What this means is: if I look inside myself and see, let’s say, aggression, I should not and do not have to “accept” that! To use the words of the apostle Paul: I “put off” (reject) the old self and “put on” (accept) the new self. To use more vivid language: I crucify sin in my mortal body and rise to embrace a new life in Christ.

All this comes into play when we consider the proposition “what you do proceeds from who you are.” If, like Henri Nouwen, we take a deep look inside ourselves and see “death” seated in our soul, we would be foolish to just “accept” that. No, we reject that which kills and we accept the only thing that can give us life: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

This is what “acceptance of self” really means, in my opinion. If by “acceptance of self” we are talking about the self God intends for us, then, yes, by all means, “accept” that. Even more, live in it. Embrace it. Celebrate it. Fight for it. For this is your real self. Remember: who you are becoming is where you find your real identity.

But, if by “acceptance of self” we come to actually consider that, well…I guess “some things just don’t change. Guess I’ll always be a selfish jerk” then we need to talk some more. That kind of acceptance for the Christian is not acceptance of your true self. It is, in fact, acceptance of your false self, admittance of a lie, which can only produce death. And, yes, that should be rejected out of hand.

In light of that, I’ll talk tomorrow about some further considerations as concerns what to do should one find, like Nouwen, matters in our heart that need tending. As a teaser, I’ll just say that it’s interesting Nouwen had to literally do something externally to escape the internal prison he faced. It seems strange to say this now but the mystery is: sometimes doing shapes being.

Until then, I hope this has been helpful.

To read the next post in the chain, click here.