“In our own
woundedness, we can become a source of life for others.”
— Henri
J.M. Nouwen (1932 – 1996)
From the first moment I read Henri
Nouwen I knew his mind would influence mine.
Of the pastor-writers who have shaped me most, Nouwen has loomed largest,
besides Eugene Peterson and A.W. Tozer. The Wounded Healer is Nouwen’s seminal
work, par excellence. Originally written
in 1972, like the best books, its message is timeless.
Here is a brief sweep through the
masterpiece:
Through four open doors we can view The
Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society. These open doors are appreciative and lead us
to concepts of ministry that are expansive by design. Walking through open doorways in ministry always
leads us to more questions than answers, such is the nature of the helping
life, or life for that matter.
DOORWAY ONE – the Condition of a
Suffering World
When Nouwen introduces us to Peter
in this first foray, we find ourselves meeting someone who, in being a normal
man, struggles to differentiate fantasy from reality. He is not ill so much as dislocated historically
and fragmented ideologically; a thinking, feeling person somewhat significantly
estranged from his world, taunted by an identification with immortality proving
he’s made in the image of an eternal God.
Thankfully Nouwen shows us that
Christ amalgamates, and then transcends, the mystical tensions that seem to
make no sense. In a radicalised passion
we’re able to see with the eyes of God and hear His voice, such that
dislocation and fragmentation are accepted as part of living in the world that
we’re happy to live in, yet apart from.
From this doorway, then, we see
what God wants us to see — the fields are right for harvest; opportunities for
ministry abound!
DOORWAY TWO – the Condition of a
Suffering Generation
Who are the people of today, and
the people of tomorrow?
The mode of loneliness is observed
in the younger generation coming through.
I often think of those coming through — not least my daughters entering
and living in their twenties. It’s a
tragic irony that children pine to be adult one day, then the moment adulthood arrives,
so does the revelation, ‘this is a hard life’.
Any thinking, feeling person must empathise with the loneliness that
accompanies a young person’s wake-up call, and the depression that accompanies
their facing of raw reality.
Nouwen cites three characteristics
of the ‘lonely crowd’ endemic of the seventies generation, which is somewhat emblematic
of any younger generation. The seventies
young person, according to Nouwen, was hemmed in by inwardness, they were fatherless,
and they were impinged by a convulsiveness.
The minister of a ‘rootless
generation’ will be an articulator of inner events, skilled in reflection,
having mastered their own inwardness.
Articulation is the key unlocking inwardness, making it expressible. Compassion is the resolution that the
fatherless need. It affords an empowered
position of enablement to others because it avoids both pity and sympathy, for
empathy. Compassion is… finding “our
neighbour really is our fellow human being,” with which we feel safe, as an
equal. (p. 45)
This is a quote I’ve always liked: “For
a compassionate person nothing human is alien: no joy and no sorrow, no way of
living and no way of dying.” (p. 45) All experience fits within the realm of
acceptance. Such comfort to be!
Being afforded articulation and
compassion, the effective minister may be able to be a contemplative critic: in
seeing things differently, and being informed, spiritually, they’re able to inform,
through the embodiment of the Incarnation.
There is the ability to stay at an effective distance, whilst being able
to come close with intimacy. Such a
minister is not ‘trying’ to do anything in the ministry space. They’re not won to every political agenda,
but are won alone to the mystery of Christ in their own experience, and to the
extension of that experience in others’ lives they’re invited to help within.
“Contemplatives are not needy or
greedy for human contact, but are guided by a vision of what they have seen
beyond the trivial concerns of a progressive world.” (p.49)
This is a doorway into an empathy
of connection with those in the emerging generation.
DOORWAY THREE – the Condition of a
Suffering Humanity
Enter Mr. Harrison, and John Allen,
who is completing his clinical-pastoral education. These two interacted the day before Mr. Harrison
suddenly died, in the operating theatre.
John was initially pretty upset that Mr. Harrison was an unhelpful patient,
who didn’t appreciate the ministry that was being given to him. But, with a little distance, new insight
emerged — crucial insight if we’re to transcend the need to be enjoyed so we
might help.
Entering a suffering humanity
necessitates that we go past the impersonal, revealed in our selfishness, and
go into the personal realms of another person’s experience. Mr. Harrison feared death, and yet John was
not able to initially (or effectively) connect with such a palpable fear. Then there is the paradox for many in the
fear for life. An awkward ground
emerges: neither life nor death offers a suitable solution for some, for many. Some people, indeed many, are sick of life
and afraid to die, or they’re afraid to live.
How do we minister into such spaces?
What seems a conundrum is an
invitation into a personal, very human ministry.
“The emptiness of the past and the
future can never be filled with words, but only by the presence of a human
being.” (p. 69)
In this sense, our best ministry
into especially broken spaces is a ministry that doesn’t try at all. It is just a ministry of presence, of being
personal, of giving peace through connection.
No or few words.
Sometimes the best we can give is
to just be prepared to wait with people as they live, and to wait with people
as they die.
This is a doorway into the presence
of connection with a suffering human being.
DOORWAY FOUR – the Condition of a
Suffering Minister
To this doorway, we ministers walk
in, some with relief, and some apprehensively, but all to be blessed.
“… the paradox of Christian
leadership is that the way out is also the way in, that only by entering into
communion with human suffering can relief be found.” (p. 83)
At this point we enter the nexus of
the wounded healer’s method: they bind their own wounds one at a time,
continually, so they’re perfectly adept at dropping their own binding in order
to help someone else bind their wounds; to bind by example.
We’re encouraged to enter into our
loneliness, our suffering, our laments — encouraged, as it’s necessary. A personal and a professional loneliness; to
understand that in loneliness is our identification with our Saviour. “The Christian way of life does not take away
our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift.” (p. 90)
By professional loneliness is meant
that ministers enter into the loneliest of vocations. We often feel superfluous to the real needs
of others, especially when we may desperately feel ‘I could help!’ Then we’re praised excessively, but not
nearly enough for our egos, but far too much to be helpful for us, making our
loneliness worse. Somehow our ‘call’
must say to us that we are relevant and effective, in God’s eyes.
When Nouwen speaks of pastoral
method, the minister as a champion of his or her own loneliness, he speaks
paradoxically of hospitality. With a
person we’re helping we must withdraw enough that they would feel open to
talk. Yet we must also validate their
experience by speaking at times of our own broken experiences, and in this we
will promote a community of equality and oneness of humanity.
This is a doorway into the presence
of hospitality, through a shared loneliness, within the self and within
community.
***
Nouwen, sensing the fractured time
with which he lived, has a passion for the minister; to encourage the minister
with an ethos for ministry that is both relevant and effective.
The wounded healer archetype is one
with which I personally resonate. Many
contemporary leader pastors may not understand it — its power and effect — and some
do not trust it. If we would be a
wounded healer in order to use our brokenness to encourage and challenge others
in theirs, we must be ready to field the occasional barrage. Sometimes it’ll only be those who experience
our ministry — a Holy Spirit, incarnational ministry — who get its power. Wounded healers is not the best kind of
pastoral ministry; it’s just a kind of ministry, where God needs
many different types of ministers. Many
people don’t require the ministry of the wounded healer, which necessitates the
wounded healer to broaden their method to cater for all types.
© 2016 Steve Wickham.
