I just finished reading Henri Nouwen’s journal from his time in Bolivia and Peru in 1981/1982, published in a book called “¡Gracias!” I was struck by how many times I felt that he had written out my thoughts exactly; it was as if I were reading my own diary documenting my time in Colombia now instead of Peru in 1981… How crazy is it that three decades later I am experiencing such similar situations, emotions, and challenges? It was comforting to know that someone else has struggled with the same things, but at the same time frustrating to know that oppression, poverty, and injustice are just as present as ever.
The following quotes are some that I really identify with… There are quite a few, but it really provides a good window into my life in Colombia, the emotions involved in living in a different culture, and reflections on faith and ministry.
I highly recommend the book, especially for those thinking about living in a different culture! (Thanks Christopher for recommending it to me!)
“The great paradox of ministry, therefore, is that we minister above all with our weakness, a weakness that invites us to receive from those to whom we go. The more in touch we are with our own need for healing and salvation, the more open we are to receive in gratitude what others have to offer us. The true skill of ministry is to help fearful and often oppressed men and women become aware of their own gifts, by receiving them in gratitude. In that sense, ministry becomes a skill of active dependency: willing to be dependent on what others have to give but often do not realize they have.” October 31, 1981 (p. 19)
“How little do we really know the power of physical touch. These boys and girls only wanted one thing: to be touched, hugged, stroked, and caressed. Probably most adults have the same needs but no longer have the innocence and unselfconsciousness to express them. Sometimes I see humanity as a sea of people starving for affection, tenderness, care, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and gentleness. Everyone seems to cry: ‘Please love me.’ The cry becomes louder and the response so inaudible that people kill each other and themselves in despair. The little orphans tell more than they know. If we don’t love one another, we kill one another. There’s no middle road.” November 17, 1981 (p. 44)
“Community develops where we experience that something significant is taking place where we are. It is the fruit of the intimate knowledge that we are together, not because of a common need… but because we are called together to help make God’s presence visible to the world.” December 7, 1981 (p. 66)
“Letters are gifts, often greater than the writers realize… ‘The Word was made flesh, he lived among us’ (John 1:14). These words by St. John received new life for me during my last months here. A word of love sent to me by a friend can indeed become flesh and bridge long distances of time and space. Such a word can heal pains, bind wounds, and often give new life. Such a word can even restore a faltering faith and make me aware that in the community of love, the incarnation of the divine love can be realized wherever we are.” January 20, 1982 (p. 115)
“Right now, I would be physically, mentally, and spiritually unable to survive without the opportunity to break away from it all once in a while. All the functions of life, which previously hardly required attention, are complicated and time-consuming operations here: washing, cooking, writing, cleaning, and so on. The winds cover everything with thick layers of dust; water has to be hauled up in buckets from below and boiled to be drinkable; three is seldom a moment of privacy, with kids walking in and out all the time, and the thousands of loud sounds make silence a faraway dream. I love living here, but I am also glad that I can escape it for two hours a day and for one day a week. Living here not only makes me aware that I have never been poor, but also that my whole way of being, thinking, feeling, and acting is molded by a culture radically different from the one I live in now.” January 20, 1982 (p. 115)
“I am not poor as my neighbors are. I will never be and will not ever be allowed to be by those who sent me here. I have to accept my own history and live out my vocation, without denying that history. On the other hand, I realize that the way of Christ is a self-emptying way. What that precisely means in my own concrete life will probably remain a lifelong question.” January 20, 1982 (p. 116)
“Poverty is so much more than lack of money, lack of food, or lack of decent living quarters. Poverty creates marginal people, people who are separated from that whole network of ideas, services, facilities, and opportunities that support human beings in times of crisis. When the poor get sick, have handicapped children, or are victims of an accident, no help sees available. The poor are left to their own minimal resources. It suddenly hit me how crucial it is for the poor to organize themselves into supportive communities.” January 22, 1982 (p. 118)
“The children always challenge me to live in the present. They want me to be with them here and now, and they find it hard to understand that I might have other things to do or to think about… I have suddenly discovered the great healing power of children… I marvel at their ability to be fully present to me. Their uninhibited expression of affection and their willingness to receive it pull me directly into the moment and invite me to celebrate life where it is found… I now realize that only when I enter with the children into their joy will I be able to enter also with them into their poverty and pain. God obviously wants me to walk into the world of suffering with a little child on each hand.” January 28, 1982 (p. 123)
“Parties, buses, roosters, bread boys, and loudspeakers keep the sounds floating through the night and the early morning… Now these sounds have become a familiar background noise that no longer interrupts my sleep, my prayers, or my reading, but simply reminds me in my roof-room that I am in the middle of a world of people who have to struggle not only hard, but also loudly in order to survive.” February 1, 1982 (p. 127)
“All you have is yourself, so do not hide it from those you love.” February 3, 1982 (p. 129)
“The emotions of loneliness, isolation, and separation are as strong today as they were yesterday… What I am craving is not so much recognition, praise, or admiration, as simple friendship… I realize that the only thing I really wanted was a handshake, an embrace, a kiss, or a smile.” February 6, 1982 (p. 131)
“When, however, God is with the poor and marginal, then I have to dare to go there, live there, and find him there. I now realize that I can be with people without having to make them think my thoughts and say my words. I can be free to listen and slowly discern where God shows his merciful face to me.” February 10, 1982 (p. 135)
“…for them, all of life is a long fiesta with God.” February 20, 1982 (p. 147)
“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time and the freedom to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant or to be a part of some impressive project is so strong… But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and to drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like the, but truly love them.” February 21, 1982 (p. 148)
“Maybe I do have to become a little more indifferent towards all these ups and downs, ins and outs of personal relationships and learn to rest more deeply on him who knows and loves me more than I know and love myself.” February 24, 1982 (p. 151)
“The great challenge, however, is to live and work out of gratitude. The Lord took on our guilt and saved us. In him the Divine work has been accomplished. The human missionary task is to give visibility to the Divine work in the midst of our daily existence. When we come to realize that our guilt has been taken away and that only God saves, then we are free to serve, then we are can live truly humble lives… Humility is the real Christian virtue. It means staying close to the ground (humus), to people, to everyday life, to what is happening, with all its down-to-earthness. It is the virtue that opens our eyes for the presence of God on the earth and allows us to live grateful lives.” March 5, 1982 (p. 162)
“There is always reason to hope, even when our eyes are filled with tears.” March 24, 1982 (p. 179)
Nouwen, Henri. “¡Gracias! A Latin American Journal.” Orbis Books: Maryknoll, NY. 1996.
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