Reading: Part I – Holding the Cup
Before we drink the cup, we must hold it!
July 17th Update: Just a quick reminder, especially for those that may be new to these book discussions. This is a very informal community and the questions below are merely intended to help us start reflecting, nothing more. The most important ideas to ponder are those that touched you in the reading. Our community will be blessed your by anything you choose to share or by your silent participation… Ray Glennon
Welcome back! Last week we shared our initial reflections on Jesus’ question “Can you drink the cup?” perhaps without really understanding the full implication. This week we explore what it means to hold the cup as the first step toward drinking.
Henri reminds us that to fruitfully drink the cup, “You have to know what you are drinking… Similarly, just living life is not enough. We must know what we are living… Half of living is reflecting on what is being lived… Reflection is essential for growth, development, and change. It is the unique power of the human person.”
This is a rich section with many meaningful ideas to ponder. The three included here are offered to help get us started. You may respond to these suggestions, share your thoughts on something that touched you, or follow along silently. Regardless of how you participate, you bless us with your presence in our community.
1. After noting that, like wine, there are countless varieties of lives, Henri says, “I have my own life to live… Many people can help me to live my life, but… I have to make my own decisions about how to live.” Referring to the sculpture of Pumunangwet (see photo), Henri writes: “He knows who he is… like that warrior, we must fully claim who we are and what we are called to live.” (p. 32-33)
Photo Courtesy of Marty Thornton
New England Impressions
(Click image for larger version)
Review your own life experience and consider: Do you know who you are and have you claimed it? What decisions have you made to live “what you are called to live” and how did you arrive at those decisions? Who are some of the people that have helped you along the way? If you are willing, share what you found.
2. Recalling his early years at L’Arche, Henri describes how he became deeply aware of his own sorrows through the lives of those at the heart of the community and their assistants; he then looks at the world and sees much suffering. Henri writes: “For each of us our sorrows are deeply personal. For all of us our sorrows are universal.” (p. 38)
Reflect on the sorrows you have encountered in your past and those that you are living with now. Do the same for the sorrows in our world today. Seek to see the hope that is ever present in our suffering. Prayerfully and confidently place those sorrows at the foot of the cross and offer them to Jesus and reflect on how you feel having done so. If you are comfortable, share your experience with our community.
3. Looking back on ten years in his L’Arche home, Henri fondly recalls how the people he lives with fill him with immense joy. He writes of the “joy of belonging, of being part of, of not being different.” Joining this realization to the “new language” he heard in the words of Jesus, Henri continues: “The cup of life is the cup of joy as much as it is the cup of sorrow. It is the cup in which sorrow and joys, sadness and gladness, mourning and dancing are never separated. If joys could not be where sorrows are, the cup of life would never be drinkable.” (p. 50-51)
Thoughtfully recall the joys and the sorrows in your life. Identify when your joy was hidden in your sorrow and reflect on how you moved from sorrow to joy. Remember when joy offered comfort as you confronted sorrow and suffering. Prayerfully recall when Jesus’ presence strengthened you, comforted you, and brought you joy. Share how the cup of joy is manifested in your life and, if you are willing, how your joy mixes with your sorrow so you can drink your cup of life.
There is so much to reflect on in this section and we look forward to hearing from many of you. May the Lord give you peace.
Ray
I have come late to this discussion. However, this is my third book and my first comment on the text. The Lord loves a giver- when he finally gets round to it. It is heartening to read the contributions of others. Whilst Henri Nouwen acknowledges our “radical aloneness” and consequent “radical uniqueness”, this sharing points to souls in a similar place in their so human experience: it is good to know we are not alone!
Small beer as it may be, I am a head of a catholic school and have recently experienced great tumult and upset due to a restructuring I sent in motion. As with all things there are things that come out that no-one saw at the outset; things that cause great concern for those involved, not least as it ends up I am the one passing a cup of sorrow to those involved! Many have asked “how can this be so in a Catholic school?”
In many ways, what Henri Nouwen is sharing with me explains this – life cannot be fully expressed without the cup of sorrow; it reveals the cup of joy – a joy that is more spiritually authentic as it is borne from passion, suffering is the refiners fire. It chimes in very coherently with the work of Julian of Norwich which my parish priest has just suggested I read. The very thought that the cup of sorrow is a precursor to the cup of joy is salvific for so many. Maybe even a “manager” like me, whose decisions affect the lives of others and sometimes in ways I did not perceive, can take some comfort in that this is the life that God wants us to participate in; a life that is ours to experience – the lows and the highs. By sharing in this we are experiencing a small part of the love of the Father. Is this where our true joy lies? Thank you Henri for making me think! Reflecting on my life is essential to make sense of all I do. Thanks also to those who contribute here – you make me think in ways I had not considered; what a gift!!
I echo your thoughts and thanks for sharing. Life’s peaks and valleys are a mysterious mix at times. My only answer to this cup of joy and sorrow is to look at the Calvary cross…the cross comes before the glory! I am blessed to have the crucifix that hung at my parents’ home now hanging in ours. One look is all it takes to remind me that I’m invited to “take up my cross daily and carry it” and that “My burden is light and my yoke is easy” and “as Paul says, “I can do all things in Christ.”
Coming from Catholic educational background(grammar, H.S. and college) and then a teacher in the Catholic schools, I understand your situation somewhat. Our schools are in flux due to economic and cultural reasons. Registrations down and schools closing or consolidating. No easy decisions.
I was so glad this book was selected. It felt like Henri was simply talking with us as he shared from his experiences.
I remember hearing how important it is to reflect on our lives. To me, that is part of the holding the cup. I think the joy part comes in knowing that God is with us through all of our lives. I have been reminded of this in two retreats I’ve attended this summer already. I heard that “with” was the most important word in the Bible. God with us. We all have our struggles. Some folks have so much to bear. I think the message that Henri tells us about God’s love for us is a hopeful one.
Janet,
I want to echo your comment about the importance of reflecting on our lives. Four hundred years ago Don Quixote offered similar advice to Sancho Panza when Cervantes wrote, “”First, my son, you must fear God, because in fearing Him lies wisdom, and if you are wise, you cannot err in anything. Second, you must look at who you are and make an effort to know yourself, which is the most difficult knowledge one can imagine.” I think this is why the Pumunangwet is able to stand so tall–he knew himself. And it is in knowing ourselves to be the Beloved that we are able to hold the cup of our life and to lift and share it with others (the topic for next week).
Ray
Thank You Carol and Dr. Connie for your kind and loving remarks and your prayers. It meant a great deal to us both and I read them to my Niece and her husband to encourage them. We are all pilgrims on a journey as one of the old Hymns goes and this has been my husband and my favourite hymn. Let us always encourage each other even through this group and visit us anytime. I have an image of Jesus in my heart. My yoke is shared on the other side by Jesus, so when our Lord says,’ My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I imagine Him carrying at least 1/2 of the burden and at times even more when I am weary. No one can drink the cup of life alone. God bless you all as we Journey together.
My family had more than its share of the cup of suffering: mental illness in my 3 brothers and medical illness in all of us. Through all these, I saw how my mother prayed each day. She was a fun-loving woman, until the illnesses appeared. I could not recall any relatives who were prayerful or have a strong faith like her. I believe that with the sufferings, she was given the gift of faith.
So Can I Drink the Cup? Can I Drink the Cup of Suffering? Can I Drink the Cup of Joy? Only with the gift of faith. Only with God’s mercy and grace. Otherwise the cup of suffering is meaningless, and the cup of joy undeserved.
Joy and sorrow, light and dark, bitter and sweet, yin and yang. When we contemplate the “wine” of our life, these are the components that we savor or that we try to spit out.
In reflection, I often did not take the time to savor what was in the cup. I drank it down without appreciating the many notes the wine of my life had to offer. As a result, I became intoxicated and wandered aimlessly for a several years. Longing for things or relationships that would be a consolation to my searching heart.
When the searching only yields emptiness, then we are confronted by our “radical aloneness” leaving us to contemplate and hopefully “fully claim who we are and what we are called to live.”
Thankfully, we do not have to drink the whole of our cup alone. We were created to be in relationship; this “compassionate-being-with.” In communion with God and with one another. Ah, but the duality: the bitter and sweet, the yin and yang, the joy and sorrow. Trusting in the midst of uncertainty. Henri wrote, “In the midst of the sorrows is consolation, in the midst of the darkness is light, in the midst of the despair is hope, in the midst of Babylon is a glimpse of Jerusalem, and in the midst of the army of demons is the consoling angel. The cup of sorrow, inconceivable as it seems, is also the cup of joy. Only when we discover this in our own life can we consider drinking it.”
Lata,
I am moved beyond compare by your post. You have the wisdom of the Holy Spirit. You are experiencing the fullness and complexity of human emotions, which can sometimes be so so very deep. You are giving us the living example of not running from the pain, which would only make it worse, but facing it and feeling it. Silmultaneously, there is also peace and gratitude sometimes on a personal level and within the context of community and your true identity as the Beloved. These emotions go back and forth, but you aim your arrow high and proud like the Pumunangwet that Henri pondered, choosing to trust God and choosing to claim who you are. As I read your post, I am moved with complex emotions too… Sadness, compassion, gratitude and a sense of joy too. Thank you for your sharing, and for holding your cup, and thank you to an awesome GOD!
I have been following all comments and do not know where to start. Holding our cups. At 70+ holding my daily cup of life is a little easier, as along the way I have learned to be patient. When I was young, I wanted to look at the bottom of the cup,’ As some one described earlier, gulp it down.’ So I could almost change the type of wine in my cup, as it was too painful, too sour, and I did not like what life was handing to me. Angry with God, hurting no end. IMPATIENT! This only brought years of agony, tears, sickness, pain. Now, I think why certain things are happening and talk to my Heavenly Father about all this and the Holy spirit reveals, gives peace and allows me to keep on trusting in God. Even at the saddest time of life, like yesterday when my little grand Nephew died suddenly with pneumonia, talking to my niece and reflecting on her son’s life and what they had been living with in the past month and coming to grips with the fact his lungs will never be able to function and he will be on a respirator forever and one day they will need to pull the plug out. They had to let him die and they were able to say simply,’ We let him die peacefully.’
My grandnephew had his first stroke, when he was three days old. He was a twin and premature like his sister, but he survived with heroic measures taken by the doctors. He lived 12 yrs. in and out of hospital. He had to be carried everywhere, as apart from his left facial muscles no other muscle worked and those few working muscles gave him the ability to smile, the most beautiful smile one could ever see and he could laugh, but never a word he could speak. We knew when he was not happy. He had to be suctioned every 4-6 hours. His parents alone could tell. We all loved him and his parents held that cup, knew it from the day of his stroke that their lives will never be the same. Looking after their son was not a cup of sour wine, but they rejoiced over every smile he gave them and then they had to let him go. My niece’s husband said, ‘Today, he is fully alive and he can walk. He is free. No more sorrow for him, only for us. I miss him….’ We cried together, held each other and we will continue to hold each other whenever the grief gets too painful. Long journey, wrong order of life, children should outlive their parents.
In this world, we all need to hold our cups of life and we cannot run away from it. We try, but like Jesus when we hold it and say,’ Not mine but thy will be done,’ we are able to really live and help others to live and make this world a bearable place to live. Sorrow will never come to end, no matter how hard we pray. Each cup of wine is unique and as Henri says, we have to see for ourselves what we have and pray for wisdom to know the right from wrong. We make small changes in this world of sorrow we live in. We have not learned to love one another fully. If we had, the Malaysian plane would not have been shot and 298 young, meaningful lives would not have been lost. There would be peace in the world. We have to share this grief with the families who have lost their loved ones, by asking our Heavenly Father to be with them. Praying at times without ceasing and our Lord and Saviour will drink this cup of our sorrow again and again with us.
Some dreams are fulfilled and others remain only a memory, yet love and prayers and knowing always in our hearts that we are the beloved children of God, in our time of sorrow, an angel will be sent to comfort and to strengthen., but we still will have to drink the cup of sorrow like our Lord did. Many have comforted and helped me hold the cup of my life and I must keep on helping others on the way. Helping others to reflect and looking constantly at my own life, what it has been about and what it is about today, specially, when we have few years left, may be.
L’Arche in Halifax gives us joys and sorrows, but all shared. Working with the war veterans, sharing the end of their lives in the hospital prepares me for journey ahead. NEVER ALONE, I know my Saviour lives. Thanks be to God!
Dear Lata,
Thank you so much for sharing your cup with us. It is in sharing our cup whether it is filled with sorrow, grief, pain, joy, laughter, gratitude that we reveal Gods love and kingdom present with us.
Amen – again I say amen.
Sending you and your family a virtual hug and a prayer for peace, deep peace in the days to come. May your time of mourning be seasoned with fond memories.
Thank you for sharing your wisdom – may you know the arms of God gently supporting you as you journey.
Halifax is a wonderful city (I’ve been transplanted, however love going ‘home’)
Dear Lata,
I am so sorry to hear about your grandnephew. As a grandmother of three-year old twins, I taste the sorrow of grandparents and loved ones when children are lost. I will keep you and your niece and nephew in my prayers. I liked when you wrote “Sorrow will never come to an end no matter how much we pray. ” Those words spoke to me because I have felt a frustration and a loss of peace over what happened to the Malaysian jet this week.
I am very lucky; my life is full of people who know the Lord and strive to make the world a better place…even so, all our love isn’t enough to stop the evils in the world. I know that sounds like a naive expectation, maybe even a narcissistic one (Okay, I am embracing my cup and going public with my shortcomings here). Your words are a necessary lesson for me and amplify what Henri said in this week’s chapter..the cup contains a mixture of sorrow and joy. I have to embrace that truth for myself, who wastes a lot of time lamenting over my failures. Perhaps I should regard the mixture of joy and sorrow and failure and success in my life in the same way I look at labels on a wine bottle. Sometimes the qualities of the varieties of grapes produce a wine worth appreciating.
“One thing I learned….You have to know what you’re drinking and you have to be able to talk about it” Telling our story – finding it in the Gospel story helps us make sense of non-sense. What would the paschal mystery be if we didn’t reflect and examine our own lives and own our own cup? I am at a point in life (again) that holding the cup means a cup of sorrow. I do believe however that when this sorrow passes, the joy will be even deeper. To me, holding the cup means to own my own story. Sometimes, bitter sweet, sometimes sorrowful, other times a story of amazing grace. In the times of sorrow I think of Mary at the foot of the cross – in times of joy – the wedding of Cana. Both are real, both are God’s grace at work. Living on these terms can feel so very lonely, but really, would I have it any other way? Authenticity — like Henry says, it takes courage. We risk not being accepted and entering that lonely place. What is this cup I hold? It is full for sure – and reminds me that gratitude needs to be a large portion of my cup.
I am a sinner and a failure. I am a mother, wife, and worker. My heart is broken with guilt and regret. Where is the promise of future success and where is the healing? Where are all the people willing to help? I have cried till I feel like my eyes will come out of my head. I hate the illness God has allowed upon my son. I hate it! I submit to my spouse and stay married. I work in a thankless job as I watch others enjoy the pleasures of favoritism and thrill in the agony of people they are supposed to be helping. My parents taught me that if I just stay quiet and do as I am told, I will succeed. Mama believed in peace and love; Papa believed in hard work. I pray, pray again and then go back and pray some more like Mama taught me.
I feel overwhelmed and lost in my sorrow like Mr. Nouwen suggests. Many others have the same sorrows, this I know. I come here and I feel united. I feel connected when I read about others who feel like I do. I am comforted as others respond to my posts. I put my hope at the foot of the cross of Jesus and I pray the Chaplet of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I pray to St. Michael. I pray for the strength to carry on. I go to Mass; the priest knows what is going on with my son, yet, he looks away when our eyes meet while the lector announces there will be a second collection in the name of faith, hope and charity.
I remember joy when I was younger and had a sense of control over my life. I always came out of the sorrow renewed and yes, I was strengthened and renewed. Now, I just don’t know. I am weary and wore out. Can I drink of the cup? I don’t know. Right now I feel like I am barely hanging on.
Carol,
Thank you for your honest sharing in this difficult time. Like you I am a sinner and a failure. And like Jesus I am a beloved child of the loving and forgiving God–and so are you (a point Henri would wholeheartedly agree with). We share a common calling and a common destiny–to follow Jesus on the road to eternal life. You are most assuredly already drinking the cup every day of your life. Know that you are not alone. May the Lord give you peace and may you feel his presence constantly.
Peace and all good.
Ray
Crying is one think I can talk, I could not stop till God held me and said that all will be well. Ten/eleven years the situation has not changed but I have. Going through my sorrow with God “helping me” has been a great spiritual journey.
Carol, you are in my heart and I offer the love of Christ given to me to share so you know you aren’t alone.
First– Peter I want to say thank you for sharing. I’m reminded that Henri says “For each of us our sorrows are deeply personal. For all of us our sorrows, too, are universal” Who among us cannot relate to the sorrow of broken relationships? For each of us the circumstances and people involved may be unique but the sorrow and anguish that they cause are universal and unite us all. I’m thinking about Jesus and the sadness of broken relationships that he carried with Him…I wonder if these were the cause of his deepest sorrow? This is really speaking to me in a powerful way….I just returned home from a difficult visit with my sister that caused me much sorrow and pain, only to learn upon my return that one of the members of my small town community had been tragically killed when I was gone…the whole town is mourning this loss. And everywhere I go, I carry with me the sorrow of the broken relationship of biblical proportions between Israel and Palestine and the tremendous amount of grief and mourning that is occurring in that part of the world. The prayer that I wrote as part of my reflection today begins:
“Lord I place my sorrows at your feet. Your cross is the only way they make any
sense.” Jesus is our man of sorrows. It brings me great comfort to know that I can lay all of my sorrows, fears and anxieties at the foot of the cross because He has already borne them triumphantly for me. This is part of the joy I think. And the “angels” of consolation are there for us as they were for Jesus, as Henri points out (Luke 22:43).
Thanks everyone for sharing—we are all wounded healers.
Blessings
Diane C.
“The cup of life is the cup of joy as much as it is the cup of sorrow. It is the cup in which sorrow and joys, sadness and gladness, mourning and dancing are never separated. If joys could not be where sorrows are, the cup of life would never be drinkable.”
I read recently a book called Defying Despair written by a young man who had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, as I was last December.
One of the most significant things he said in his very valuable book, was that pain and suffering are greatly altered to the better when we can discern a purpose in the suffering.
He did not say we had to find the reason for the suffering…we are all subject to the human condition after all…but he said like Victor Frankel, that if we see the purpose in the pain, it becomes transformed and transformative.
It took me a while to even to start appropriating this and I have to say that it is an ongoing discernment and not something that comes easily.
All of this reminds me of an old hymn, “Be Still My Soul…Be still my soul the Lord is on thy side, Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain; Leave to thy God to order and provide, In every change He faithful will remain. Be still my soul; the best, thy heavenly Friend, through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.”
I believe in a God that is abundant and who will never leave us broken. Thank you for all the replies in this study. This is a wonderful resource and it is encouraging to read pieces of our collective wisdom.
What you said about your belief that “God will never leave us broken is so powerful, WOW!”
Long ago an acquaintance said something similar to me about the unexamined life not being worth living. At the time I brashly replied, “All life is worth living!” and he agreed at the time. I still hold this to be true. I agree that I need to reflect on my life to make some sense of it, to move forward or beyond, and to enrich it. However, not everyone is in the position to do so. For me, the reflection comes before my actions and hopefully my actions are the better for it. For those times that I have failed to reflect before acting, I like the Ignatian Examen prayer that helps me reflect on my day.
The reflections are great and meaningful. Thanks to all for sharing.
I am enjoying this Nouwen book, that I never heard of before last week. As I work with people with significant disabilities, I can relate to Henri’s reflections on seeing the sorrow/joy in people with disabilities (altough sometimes it can be very hard….)
One of the things I love about being Christian, is that joy is not separated from sorrow. Our culture equates joy with happiness. Needing to have more material things, expecting everything NOW, wanting perfect children, showcase homes, etc… Not pointing fingers, I too fall into these traps. True joy can and does include sadness and sorrow in life’s dips, and knowing/believing that God has a master plan. We can hold an element of joy or peace at such times knowing that He has won the victory and loves us beyond our imagination.
Good and important reminders for me……
When I reflect on the times in my life when I was holding the cup, I now see a pattern. I was always enthusiastic about holding it because of great joy involved (whether at Communion or at certain times in my life) and never realized when I was younger that sorrow was part of it. So when the sorrow part came, most of the time I just told God, “I am out of here!”,
although not after my mother died when I was the only one who could take care of my homophobic father who wanted desperately to be a grandfather and have a straight son who was a CPA or an attorney. Many gay people in that situation just fled. My b-friend at that time, who dad didn’t like, gave me an ultimatum – either I move to West Hollywood with him or we were done; I cried. I told him I had to do what was right since there was no other family member to do it. I moved in with dad instead because he was having difficulty taking care of himself and he needed me and he was there for me when I growing up. I did the best I could during that turbulent four years while working 9 hours per day at a stressful job. I really thought I was going to die first. Some days we didn’t talk to each other, because he was always right. I really prayed hard then. I regret I was unable to mend that relationship. (However, after his passing, I worked hard on my relationship with his younger sister and brother, both arch-conservative Catholics. Surprisingly (to all of us), I became good friends with them for the last 20 years of their lives even though I was an out-of-the closet gay Episcopalian.)
Now I come to the Holding the Cup stage with a new perspective on it, it’s two-sided sword, which cuts both ways. It doesn’t bring joy OR sorrow, but joy AND sorrow. When I receive Communion now, I realize this new perspective.
This is a beautiful example of “being Christ to others”. I am sure looking back you can more clearly see the joy mixed with the sorrow. I find that in my own life. The challenge is being able to recognize it while one is in the midst of it. More prayer, I think, for me.
Thanks Peter for sharing your story.
I have been glad to read all of these comments, and you are all in my prayers this morning. I’ve been pondering the question about knowing who you are, and claiming it. We often think of this kind of identity quest as something young people most typically undertake, but I believe being free to do this is one of the gifts of getting older. In my case, starting a new career in ministry at an age when some of my classmates are beginning to retire, and having moved beyond caring about career success as I did when I was younger, I now feel that I’m finally living as the person I was always called to be. Yes, there was some letting go of pride and fear involved in getting to this, but also it’s taken me a long time to learn to be the person I am today. Maturity is a blessing that can open us to all kinds of new growth.
I wanted to take a minute and check in here….
The sharings are so honest and appreciated! Since I revisited this book a few weeks ago, I have to admit what bothers me a lot and I know it is only a minor detail but back in the eighties and early ninties some priests did have clear glass chalices and they were banned about fifteen to twenty years ago. I always got a lot more “out of” seeing the body and blood of Christ and it made a lot more sense to me. I take solace in the fact that Henri wasn’t into all the rules and regulations which seem to put up boundries. With that said, I still know that the shiny gold chalices on the outside do hold the Blood of our Dear Humble Jesus, Lord and Savior who shed His Blood for Us because He loved(loves) us……… and still stuggle with losing my life so I can gain it.
Peace to all. (Hope nobody was offended but it was an obstacle that I held with me everytime I open the book and / or read the website. Henri, pray for us.
R.
Hi everyone, fellow travelers,
I won’t try to out-write anyone (smiles). I do want to mention that I have 12 step experience and suffer from PTSD and can relate to much of what has been shared here and very grateful for it…
As for me, the phrase that struck me the most was “half of living is reflecting on what is lived,” and this within the main concept that we must “hold the cup” meaning we must EXAMINE our lives, our choices, where we have been, where we are going and ARE we on the path God has laid out for us? How do we know if we are ON that path.
Two things struck me from this:
1. I long for companions (even one or two) who deeply examine their lives as a habit and can share this with me. Finding them here online is good — I want more of this.
2. It seems that many of us are past 50 or even 60 or even 70 and that is the time when we are more likely to have/make time for this examination. This is a nice “upside” to plain old getting OLD!!! And the pitfalls of THAT! (smiles)
Anyways, glad to be here and blessings for all of you,
Gina
Question – what Nouwen book is best at describing our identity as simply beloved of God? Some of you have referred to your favourites. Talking of course of a book to give to my young adult children. M
For your adult children, how about Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World? The intended audience was a young adult that Henry Nouwen had met. Check into it. Hope that helps. Anyone else have any thoughts on this title?
I would certainly agree that Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World is an excellent choice. My only caution would be that the young adult would need to be open to this pretty in-depth encounter with our Belovedness.
A shorter, yet powerful, introduction to being the Beloved is found in Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son in Chapter 2, The Younger Son Leaves, specifically in the subsections “Deaf to the Voice of Love” and “Searching Where It Cannot Be Found.” Here Henri Nouwen writes, “Home is the center of my being where I can hear the voice that says: ‘You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests.'”
My wife and I have seven young adult children and if I were going make a recommendation for them (something I should actually do), I would point them to the section in Return of the Prodigal Son for openers. If they found that meaningful, they might continue with the rest of Prodigal Son or consider reading Life of the Beloved. Coincidentally, both books were published in 1992 after Nouwen had been at L’Arche about five years.
I’m going to answer these questions individually since they are all quite a spiritual work-out. I could literally meditate on them all summer. I would say that Henri Nouwen has the ability to “strip away” the fluff and confusion around truths about Jesus, but I find his writings complex, and requiring contemplation to internalize the truths in them.
“Do you know who you are and have you claimed it?” This question changes with age. I think I am to the place where I celebrate the leadership gifts that God has given me – my ability to clarify a vision and to assist a group to collaborate and persevere in a collective direction. This took a LONG time to define, own and refine and now, gives me a great pleasure to contribute to the groups I belong to.
When my oldest son was a baby, I had a friend who was blind and had raised 3 children including teaching them to drive when they were teens. (wasn’t always blind.) She told me that she had to KNOW each child – who they were, what they might try and what they could do in order to raise them and keep them safe. I went ahead and (tried to) apply this to parenting my own children in order to keep them safe when I cannot see them. If you think of parenting as a cup you’re given – with the good and the bad, you are given the cup from Heaven. What’s in the cup is not yours to dispute – it’s yours to own and to hold. Wanting something else in the cup will make you miss what’s in there to love. We have the choice of asking God to help us hold our cup – and then humble waiting on Him.
#2 Sorrow
I suspect we have in common our ability to understand sorrow and that is what brought us to dear Henri Nouwen in the first place. I wonder if anyone called Henri “Melancholy” or told him to “cheer up,” “snap out of it!” Thanks be to God he didn’t listen and comitted his deep understanding of sorrow to pen and paper – (talk about holding the cup!)
As I read this little chapter, the notes I make to myself just say, “Cultivate that relationship with our Loving Heavenly Father so that when it comes time to say, ‘Let it be as you, not I will have it,’ it is possible for me.” This also prompts me to think of my young adult children who I will start to have some conversations with about what that might look like for them. The ship has sailed on me wanting them to go to church LOL! With my Cancer diagnosis, we can feel that rock of prayer underneath us and it might be a nice time to see what their ideas are about connecting with The Source in their rapid, electronic worlds.
Have a great day. I’ll hit question 3 later so it gives me something to look forward to. 🙂
Marianne
Thank you for sharing yourself with the group about being a Lutheran as a child, your Chemo, and your metaphor of the cup as it could be to teaching kids to be safe.
While you might think the ship has sailed on your kids wanting to go to church, God might have other ideas so I would keep praying. I pray for my agnostic friends that God reveal Himself/Herself to them in any church or religion; doesn’t have to be mine.
Also, except for group prayer at a church service, I found that what works for me is contemplative-imaginative prayer (recalling a Parable and picturing myself in it like when Jesus is teaching (and I am one of the crowd, or in the tree), and then asking Him a question as a member of the crowd.), Listening Prayer (where I just get to that quiet place and after doing some mantra (like the Jesus Prayer breathing) just tell God I am here to listen to what my Friend has to say. The only rote prayers I like anymore are from the Bible like the Our Father, and the one attributed to St. Francis of Assisi which I am so used to hearing.
I am praying for you as you go through Chemo.
thanks, Marianne, for sharing your thoughts on parenthood, the cup, etc… As the father of two teens– I needed to hear that!! I will be praying and reflecting on your gentle and loving words.
I will keep you in prayer regarding your health. Peace.
When I say, “The ship has sailed on me wanting my kids to attend church,” I actually don’t feel as hopeless as that sounds. I just mean I have stopped asking them questions and encouraging them to places where they might miraculously discover a church that they love attending. I’m fine leaving it to God, at last.
I certainly took a hiatus from organized religion in my early 20s until I was invited back to a Mennonite Brethren church and I was so surprised that there were people there with the same values as me.
I am just beginning the Cup of Joy, and I read: “Who can be as close to another human being as I could be to Adam? Who can spend a few hours each day with a man who gives you all his confidence and trust? Isn’t that what joy is?” This sure reminds me how much I am awed by Nouwen’s simplicity! I could think and strive and do all sorts of spiritual gymnastics and I don’t know if I could ever ask that question honestly. And yet, probably what has drawn me most over the years is the other side of Henri’s reality, the terrible temptation, as he puts it in The Path of Waiting, to be “seduced by despair.” In the Cup of Sorrow, he writes about his own “sorrows” that he knows “are very old and very deep sorrows, and that no amount of positive thinking or optimism will make them less.” And, most heartbreaking of all, that he experiences “deep sorrow that I have not become who I wanted to be.” How can the man who defines joy as he has not be what he wanted to become? In my life I have been more likely to ask, “Isn’t that sorrow?” and mean that profound dissatisfaction with myself. I was shown some photos of myself at age 27 and what I felt was just sadness. I don’t know that young woman who had so much to hope for and didn’t have any hope at all just because of all that deep sorrow that Henri understands or at least experiences.
I’m thumbing through books, of course, because I barely remember something Buechner wrote that made me cry with recognition when I first read it, “You say, ‘God, forgive me my sin,’ which means, ‘I am empty and alone because that is what I have done with my life and also because that is what my life has done with me. Fill the emptiness. Deliver me.'”
Here are these beautiful men, whose lives have been a constant prayer and hymn, and they know despair. There has to be a way not to think about my own life–in alcoholism, bad mothering, worse behavior–and make unbearable comparisons.
I realize I am no different from Zebedee’s sons who answer Jesus’ question about drinking the cup, seemingly without hesitation. If you had asked me, I would have confidently said, “Certainly, I will!” But the truth is I had no idea what I was saying.
There is great struggle in this for me. Holding both sorrow and joy. I really just want to bury the sorrow part and run from it. Living with a spouse who has an incurable cancer has turned our lives upside down! Talk about sorrows…sorrows that I have not wanted to embrace.
After 35 years in various corporate roles I have found my vocation on full time ministry working for a church and now am a candidate for ministry in the Methodist church. Talk about joys…joys beyond what I could have ever hoped for.
The “both/and” of sorrow and joy strikes me as key. Acknowledging the gifts embedded in each and gratefully receiving them is helping me move towards acceptance of my life as it is is. It has come only with the help of a spiritual director who quite frankly has just hung in there with me despite all of my protesting and kicking of my feet!
I really like Henri’s statement “Holding the cup of life means looking critically at what we are living. This requires great courage, because when we start looking, we might be terrified by what see…When we drink the cup without holding it first, we may simply get drunk and wander around aimlessly.”
It’s this “looking critically” that has helped me move from denial to acceptance of all that my life holds. Finding myself to be grateful for the truths in this first chapter….
….peace to all of you who are also on this journey. Your thoughtful comments bless me.
Cindy,
I echo your comment: “When we drink the cup without holding it first, we may simply get drunk and wander around aimlessly.”
To first look at our cup of life and hold on…seems to mean for me that I will live life mre fully when I take time for quiet reflection…be a person of purpose.
My first inclination is to take and gulp it down…get to the bottom of the cup.
But I now know, I need to hold on, take a few deep breaths, and then ask for Divine mercy when life’s challenges face me.
Cindy and Liz, you raise and interesting point, and question. The comments of Cindy and her husband with cancer made me think. Are the joys and sorrows separate and distinct, or are there joys within the sorrows themselves. In other words, are the joys and sorrows part of the same, and inseparable? I need to re-read Part One and try to figure this out. Any thoughts??
Great question to ponder…reminds of Romans 28..”All things work together for good for those who love God.”
Finding God in all things is a theme with Ignatius and the S.J. order. Or as I heard one say, “Every interruption in life is an invitation.” Or as another one has told me to ask, “Lord, what are you teaching me in this situation.” Need more thinking on this.
Holding our cup and asking for God’s help…
I resonated to the description of the importance of each of us as one unique but important tile in a mosaic. I have long been explaining to my students that each has an unique purpose; we all are meant to be a different instrument in God’s symphony, and that we are all necessary for the music to sound in tune. Our task,therefore, is to determine what that purpose/instrument is meant to be. For many, this may well be a lifelong quest!
Herb, you make some very good point. Your comment reminded me of St. Paul’s description of the Church as the Body of Christ, with each us as a unique but integral part of the body. We all have a purpose in His plan. No one is insignificant or unimportant.
From Ms. Dean Robertson
Ray, Your comments (Note: last week about Henri discovering a “new language”) and Nouwen’s remind me of Esther deWaal’s book, “Seeking God,” in which she says, basically that if I can’t find God here, in this place, with these people, I cannot find God anywhere.” I think about Nouwen in his community and the discovery of God, today, in just what is. And, for me, the acceptance of whatever pain I have as basically just my share of the world’s pain. I am called to carry my load, nothing more than that.
I’m just looking at some material on Isaac Luria and loving again the creation story in his Kabbalah in which the world is created when the vessels, the cups, which God has filled with divine light, shatter because they are not strong enough to hold it and send divine sparks flying to earth where our job in our lives is gathering those sparks back together in order to restore the world and heaven.
That’s a very poor summary of a gorgeous story.
Have you read Fr. Martin’s new book, “Jesus: A Pilgrimage”?
Thanks for sharing the comment from Seeking God. It’s a perfect reminder for today and every day. I am currently reading Jesus: A Pilgrimage. It’s wonderful.
Good to know on Father Martin’s book. I picked up a copy as soon as it was on the shelf, and it is in the stack of about thirty books I need to read! Sounds like I need to push it to the top.
From Ms. Dean Robertson
Ray, thank you so much for posting this prayer (Note: Thomas Merton prayer in post for July 6th to July 12th); it has always been one of my favorites, and I haven’t run across it in the last couple of years (when, incidentally, I could have used it)
Hello, everybody, I am sort of sneaking in the back door late, having finally decided I would make the time to do this for myself, then rushed to the library for the book. It’s one of Nouwen’s I haven’t read and I’m loving it. It is reminding me of one of many things I love about his work–simplicity, clarity, directness.
Barbara, like you I am older and, after 30 wonderful years of teaching literature and the bible as literature in independent secondary schools and small colleges, have the time and space now to be quiet. In my Forward Day by Day, an Episcopal daily reflections, there is a prayer which asks for “the gift of Holy Silence.”
I have so much to say just about “The Cup of Sorrow,” that I won’t even try it here. I keep thinking about my favorite Nouwen, a tiny volume called “The Path of Waiting.” It’s about being willing to be still, not running away, believing that “the thing you are waiting for is growing out of the ground on which you are standing.” It’s about not being afraid. I volunteer every week at an assisted living facility, where I lived for 8 months after a bad fall, leading a bible study, and at one point we noticed that every time Jesus is about to appear–annunciations and resurrections–an angel appears and says, “Do not be afraid.” The discussion about what that might mean was magnificent. These women are all in their nineties and I’ve watched them wake up to that amazing text.
Anyway, Nouwen and the cup of sorrow–the wine metaphor is intriguing to me; I am a recovering alcoholic (28 years in AA) and have never had any problem taking wine at communion. Some of my fellow drunks are horrified. This chapter makes me realize that the reason for that is that I am truly “holding” the cup, conscious of what I am drinking and why, unlike when I drank too much too often too unaware.
I have two favorites from this Part so far: the phrase “spiritual sinew” and the image of the statue on which the “right hand still holds the memory of the arrow that just left for the stars.” Body memory, spirit memory. That arrow hasn’t been loosed just once, it will be loosed over and over again forever.
Lots of punctuation sloppiness from an old English teacher. Sorry about that.
From Ms. Dean Robertson
P.S. And, Oh, dear. Did I actually type that I wasn’t going to “even try” to comment on that chapter in one email? Well, one of my tiny character flaws: too darned many words. Believe it or not, I have more.
Meanwhile, “Jesus, you are the Way through the wilderness; show me your Truth, in which I journey and, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, be in me the Life that draws me to God.”
There was once a king who wanted to be the best marksman with the bow and he trained for years with the best bowmen. He worked and trained hard for many years but could only reach 92%. One day while traveling thru his kingdom he came upon a village where all the targets had an arrow dead center in all of them. He was astonished and asked who this greatest of marksman was? A villager said you need to ask that boy over by the barn. When the king asked the boy how did he accomplish perfection like this and if he would too be trained to be as accurate. The young lad took the king behind the barn and gave him a bow and arrow. He said now close your eyes and aim for the barn and trust that letting go will hit the target. But I don’t see one said the king. Do you trust me said the lad? So the king did as the boy said and after hitting the side of the barn he saw the boy drawing the target with the king’s arrow in the center. Boy turned to the king and said …See what happens when you let go and let God chose the target. In life we really can’t handle anything without Him and we more often miss the target because we forget where and what and who the real target is. Like shooting blind…we can only trust and let it fly… on a wing and a prayer…because when you spill the cup and make a mess God is ready to help you clean up and be ready to try again to hit your mark and drink in his love for you.
I was intrigued by more than one of the concepts put forth by Henry Nouwen in Part One. I liked the notion of the necessity of reflecting on one’s life to fully live it. Makes me think I need to do a lot more reflection! I did like the idea of joy and sorrow being in the cup, and that to fully live your life you have to embrace both the joys and the sorrows. Ray mentioned about sharing personal experiences reflective of these ideas, and I was reminded of what I went through some time ago that resulted in the demise of my first career. I had built a fairly successful law practice, and was doing well financially, and was well respected. Due to various causes, things began to unravel. The end result was my losing everything. Talk about sorrows. However, oddly enough, as I found myself left with only some clothes, some books, and a bicycle, I realized I had everything! I managed to pick up a minimum wage job and start over, eventually going back to school for my education credentials, and now I am well into my second career, currently as an assistant principal at an elementary school. I now experience joys every day.
The joys and sorrows may be in the same cup, and sometimes co-exist, but it seems that we may experience the sorrows, only to see the corresponding joys later in life. My subsequent joy was certainly hidden in sorrows for a period of time. It is the sorrows that are most difficult with which to deal. I am reminded of what Pope Emeritus Benedict said about the Lord’s Prayer in his first volume of Jesus of Nazareth. Commenting on the words “. . . and lead us not into temptation,” he said what we are saying is that we will experience trials and sufferings in this life, but we are praying to God not to give us more than we can handle. I think I will make sure I begin saying a few Our Fathers each night!
Joys coincide with joy. Interesting idea but what I do know is when we go through sorrows and loss what we have the is grieving to find God’s peace and love is there even though the loss.
From Tom Demshuk
As I hold the cup is it warm with joy or cold with sorrow. Either way I am grateful that I can hold the cup, that I can feel the cup and its unique shape, and that I can smell the cup. All gifts and many more are from Our Father and so much taken for granted. Yet I serve a quadriplegic man who at one time had these gifts but are now lost. However, he is still grateful and joyful for what he still has and makes others appreciate what they have forgotten. Even our bodies are a miracle in itself how all the parts work together to just eat. And how did the drink and food get to our table – all a gift. Praise God ….Forgive me Lord for being so ungrateful and wasteful I will keep reminding myself of this reflection every time I drink or eat – it is more than just a prayer; it is life itself living in all you made. I thought – when You created all things what did You use?
Only Your love was needed. How precious …. as we all too. Let me not bury Your love any more…