Henri Nouwen on suffering, joy, and the coming Kingdom
In Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming (Image Books), Henri Nouwen reflects on the well-known parable through the lens of Rembrandt's classic depiction of it. Over the course of the book, Nouwen sees himself in the waywardness of the younger brother, he sees himself in the self-righteousness of the elder brother, and ultimately, he sees that's he's called to become like the compassionate, welcoming Father in his grief, his forgiveness and his generosity.
Near the end of the book, having reflected on the many ways in which we are all the younger brother who squanders what's entrusted to us, and how we're all the elder brother standing aloof, thinking ourselves better than our brother, he turns to the wonderful truth that even so we're invited to the Father's embrace and celebration. The younger brother enters the party with repentance and joy, but in the parable and in Rembrandt's painting the elder brother's story is left unresolved. We don't know whether he'll accept the invitation or whether he'll remain stiff, standing alone, in the shadows.
Our world is marked by much that is not right, much that is broken. We see some of that brokenness in the inner and outer lives of the brothers, in their relationship to each other and in their relationship with the Father. But the Christian hope is that one day all things will be made new, and that will be cause for some real joyful celebration. In the meantime, however, there are small joys. "I don't have to wait until all is well," Nouwen writes, "but I can celebrate every little hint of the Kingdom that is at hand." We live simultaneously in the already and the not yet:
When Jesus speaks about the world, he is very realistic. He speaks about wars and revolutions, earthquakes, plagues and famines, persecution and imprisonment, betrayal, hatred and assassinations. There is no suggestion at all that these signs of the world's darkness will ever be absent. But still, God's joy can be ours in the midst of it all. It is the joy of belonging to the household of God whose love is stronger than death and who empowers us to be in the world while already belonging to the kingdom of joy.
This is the secret of the joy of the saints. From St. Anthony of the desert, to St. Francis of Assisi, to Frere Roger Shultz of Taize, to Mother Teresa of Calcutta, joy has been the mark of the people of God. That joy can be seen on the faces of the many simple, poor, and often suffering people who live today among great economic and social upheaval, but who can already hear the music and the dance in the Father's house. I, myself, see this joy every day in the faces of the mentally handicapped people of my community. All these holy men and women, whether they lived long ago or belong to our own time, can recognize the many small returns that take place every day and rejoice with the Father. They have somehow pierced the meaning of true joy. (pp. 116-7)
Our hopeful expectation isn't that someday we'll be whisked away from this fallen world; rather, it's that someday Christ will make all things new. It's a down-to-earth hope, but it's also cosmic and glorious. It's truly good news. In the meantime, these already-but-not-yet words of Jesus ring true and make joy a real possibility even now: "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
Weekend Video: “Revelator”
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I love the music of Josh Garrels. This collaboration project with videographer/artist Evan Mann, vaguely reminiscent of the book of Revelation, is weird and breathtaking and awesome.
Richard Twiss on following Jesus and being Native
A couple of weeks ago I read One Church, Many Tribes (Regal) by Richard Twiss, a member of the Rosebud Lakota/Sioux tribe and the head of Wiconi International. Through Wiconi, Twiss serves Native groups through education and practical help to improve their quality of life and build relationships that point the way to a hope-filled future for those who have not previously been given much reason to hope. Twiss and his wife started Wiconi with one seemingly simple concept in mind: "You can be Native and a follower of Jesus."
That may not seem very groundbreaking, but for many it is, since the relationship between Christianity and Native peoples here in North America has never been a particularly good one. Pastor and author Mark Buchanan writes about the arrival of the "people of the Black Book" in what is now Vancouver, British Columbia:
The Tswassens have a prophecy 500 years old. One of their ancient holy men foretold that a people pale as birch would one day come from across the great water in large canoes. They would bring with them a Black Book. The Black Book was Truth, end to end, a gift of inestimable good. The people lived for many years awaiting the prophecy's fulfillment.
And then one day it happened. The big canoes— bigger than the Tswassens ever imagined—arrived. They teemed with people pale as birch. And, yes, they brought with them a Black Book.
Then the killings started. The Tswassens became an obstacle to the pale men, and the pale men slaughtered them, and those they didn't slaughter they enslaved.
Given this history, and compared with the justified indignation that saturates the pages of classic accounts like Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, Twiss's book is surprisingly hopeful and gracious. He doesn't skirt around history's ugliness, but he doesn't stop there either. He wants to show Native Americans and the rest of us that Native culture isn't antithetical to following Jesus; rather, the Gospel can be incarnated in Native forms just as easily -- and perhaps even more so -- than it has been in Western culture. Native Christians don't need to follow our cultural customs when it comes to church and worship, in other words; instead, they may be better off without them.
But he isn't out to sow resentment. Instead, he shows how the Gospel is what will bring true reconciliation between us and God, and between Native and non-Native groups. He even suggests that the testimony of Native Christians can be used in powerful ways around the world among others who have also been victims of terrible injustices. In his conclusion he writes:
If we, as Native followers of Jesus, are to emerge from our pain and absence to find our place in the Body of Christ, we need the love and help of all our brethren. Can we be seen as equal partners by the rest of the Body of Christ? Will we be allowed to develop new ways of doing church that honor God's purposes for the creative expression of our cultures? Will new ministry partnerships and coalitions form? Will you help be a part of this wonderful process of reconciliation, restoration and release?
Twiss is among those I'm most excited to hear speak at The Justice Conference later this month. Here's a video introducing his topic.
[Photo credit: Rachel Fortney]
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