Embracing Weakness: Henri Nouwen and The Spirituality of Imperfection

EMBRACING WEAKNESS: HENRI NOUWEN AND THE SPIRITUALITY OF
IMPERFECTION
A thesis submitted to
Loyola Marymount University
The University Honors Program
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for Graduation with Honors
by
Elizabeth Llanes
May 2011
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. INTRODUCTION 3
II. THE LIFE OF HENRI NOUWEN

14
III. NOUWEN’S RESTLESSNESS: A JOURNEY FROM LONELINESS TO SELF

ACCEPTANCE
21
IV. NOUWEN’S HOMECOMING: THE L’ARCHE COMMUNITY 34
V. THE WOUNDED HEALER: A MINSTRY OF IMPERFECTION 41
VI. CONCLUSION 47
2
Introduction
Rabbi Zusya said, “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses?’ They
will ask me: ‘Why where you not Zusya?’”1
Our journey to wholeness begins with coming to know who we are. As we explore our
identity, we uncover layer after layer and the process of self-discovery never really ends. But
when we start to be more in touch with the deeper layers of our self, we must then learn to accept
the person we are, the person we were created to be. Instead of holding ourselves to the
standards of others, we learn to be comfortable with our own limitations and failings as well as
with our gifts and successes. As theologian Johannes Metz states, “Man’s self-acceptance is the
basis of the Christian creed. Assent to God starts in man’s sincere assent to himself, just a sinful
flight from God starts in man’s flight from himself.”2 Thus, the journey of self-acceptance is at
the core of Christian spirituality.
What is Spirituality?
The term spirituality is used somewhat casually in our day-to-day conversation. We
often hear friends say, “I am spiritual, but not religious,” but the meaning of this phrase differs
from person to person. “Religion” seems to have more of a concrete definition since it involves a
participation in the rituals and practices of a certain group of people. But what does being
“spiritual” entail?
Rabbi Rami Shapiro describes religion as “belonging, community, shared values, shared
rituals, and mutual support,” and spirituality as “living life without a net, forever surrendered to
reality and meeting each moment with curiosity, wonder, gratitude, justice, humility, and love.”3
1
Martin Buber, Tales of Hasidim: The Early Masters (New York: Schocken Books, 1947) p. 251.
2
Johannes Baptist Metz, Poverty of Spirit (New York: Paulist Press, 1968) p. 7
3
Rabbi Rami Shaprio, “Roadside Assistance for the Spiritual Traveler,” Spirituality and Health, July/August
(2009): p. 16.
3
Furthermore, he distinguishes between religion and spirituality in the following way. He states
that “religion is often a container in which spiritual practices are preserved and passed on.”4
Therefore, those who choose to remain “spiritual, but not religious,” tend to pick and choose
from the containers in front of them to create something they need individually. But many
people find the container to be as helpful as the spirituality contained within it, and thus they
choose to belong to a religion. The challenge for the “spiritual” person is to keep their way of
life without a community of support, while the challenge for the “religious” person is to avoid
letting the container limit their growth.
Catholic priest and spiritual writer Henri Nouwen also defines the spiritual life. He says
that spirituality means “reaching out to our innermost self, to our fellow human beings and to our
God.”5 Furthermore, he divides the spiritual life into three different movements: from loneliness
to solitude, from hostility to hospitality, and from illusion to prayer.6 The movement from
loneliness to solitude describes our relationship with ourselves. Can we be alone with ourselves
without feeling restless? Often it is in solitude that we are able to get in touch with our deepest
self and become more aware of who we are before God. The second movement of the spiritual
life, from hostility to hospitality, orients our life in a way that fosters community and friendships.
Finally, the third movement, from illusion to prayer, describes the movements of our relationship
with God.7 Essentially, Nouwen argues that the spiritual life is relationship with ourselves,
others, and God. As we move deeper into these relationships, we enter into the three movements
and slowly shift towards a life of solitude, hospitality, and prayer.
What is the Spirituality of Imperfection?

4
Ibid, p. 16
5
Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Doubleday, 1975), p. 15.
6
Ibid, p. 20
7
Ibid, p. 20
4
Understanding the spirituality of imperfection begins with realizing that as humans, we
have a basic need to love and be loved. At our core, we need to feel loved for who we truly are,
not for what we do or who we should be. This genuine love from God and those around us helps
us to build a healthy self-esteem and to learn to accept our true self instead of hiding who we are
behind masks. But often, we do not receive genuine love from those around us. Often we seek
and receive approval instead of love. Approval is a form of judgment because it is based on
what we do, not who we are. According to author Rachel Remen,
To seek approval is to have to no resting place, no sanctuary. Like all judgment,

approval encourages a constant striving. It makes us uncertain of who we are and
of our true value. This is as true of the approval we give ourselves as it is of the
approval we offer others. Approval can’t be trusted. It can be withdrawn at any
time no matter what our track record has been. It is as nourishing of real growth
as cotton candy. Yet many of us spend our lives pursuing it. Some people spend
enormous amounts of time considering the impression that their words and
behaviors create, checking how their performance will affect their audience,
playing always for approval. … A great deal of energy goes into this process of
fixing and editing ourselves. We may have even come to admire in ourselves
what is admired, expect what is expected, and value what is valued by others.8
When we spend our life pursuing approval, we “surrender our wholeness.”9 In other
words, we have hidden away our true self and replaced it with a mask that is more acceptable to
friends and family, to society, or even to a religious or spiritual school. This inauthentic way of
living never allows us to accept who we are, because it involves the rejection of the parts of
ourselves that we and others see as unacceptable or unlovable. Instead of a whole person, we
become a fragmented version of our true self, like a puzzle that is missing several pieces.
Eventually, we become “ashamed of our wholeness.”10 We never embrace our true self because
to do so would mean to accept the parts of ourselves which cause us shame, anger, guilt, or hurt.
8
Rachel Remen. Kitchen Table Wisdom (New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1996), pp. 35-36
9
Ibid, p. 36
10
Rachel Remen. Kitchen Table Wisdom (New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1996), p. 36
5
The spirituality of imperfection reminds us that the “parts of ourselves which we may
have hidden all our lives out of shame are often our source of our healing.”11 Ironically, it is the
self-assessments and failures in our lives which ultimately allow us to grow the most. Therefore,
instead of hiding away what we are ashamed of, we can instead use the imperfections we see as a
starting point for our spiritual and emotional development. Remen writes that, “Sometimes our
vulnerability is our strength, our fear develops our courage, and our woundedness is the road to
our integrity.”12 When we begin to accept what we find ugly and unlovable in ourselves, we are
able to reclaim our wholeness and achieve healing and growth.
Furthermore, it is what we tend to see as weaknesses in ourselves that become our
strengths. St. Paul tells us:
I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may
dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships,
persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I
am strong.13
The paradoxical connection between weakness and strength is one that has been present since the
earliest days of Christianity. But what is weakness? Jesuit theologian Michael Buckley states
that “weakness is the experience of a peculiar liability to suffering, a profound sense of inability
both to do and to protect: an inability, even after great effort, to author, to perform as we should
want, to affect what we had determined, to succeed with the completeness that we might have
hoped.”14 Thus, weakness can be a personal failing, a character flaw, an internal struggle –
anything that prevents us from achieving our goals. Because they limit us, our weaknesses are
what we hide and see as unlovable in ourselves.
11
Ibid, p. 36
12
Ibid, p. 38
13
2 Cor. 12: 9-10, NRSV
14
Michael Buckley. “Because Beset with Weakness…,” in To Be A Priest, ed. Robert Terwilliger (New York:
Seabury Press, 1975) p. 126
6
Our weaknesses become our strengths when we can use them to empathize and relate to
others since they form the basis of compassion. Human beings “depend upon [others] for the
unconditioned love of God to be mediated to their weakness.”15 Thus it is our ability to
understand the weakness of another that allows us to reach out and mediate God’s love in the
world. According to Buckley, “the experience of weakness deepens both our sensitivity to
human religious need and our experience in prayer.”16 We become more attune to the needs of
others when we are in touch with our weakness. In fact, it is often our strengths, not our
weaknesses, which “hinder the compassion and goodness of God.”17 Our strengths can lead us to
“distance ourselves from others not so gifted,” or “discover others as boring or unproductive.”18
In other words, we tend to judge others when we focus on our strengths instead of relating to
others through our struggles.
Furthermore, Buckley states that we can view “even limitations as the presence of Christ”
since God can transform even our flaws into good. Sometimes what we are most ashamed of is
what allows us to reach out to another person. Also, when we have the experience of “[trusting]
in [God] in darkness and [finding] that [we] can trust him,” then we are further united with
God.19 We are able to deepen our relationship with God as we begin to trust that we are loved,
despite of and even because of our weaknesses. Just as a parent can smile lovingly as their child
misbehaves, God too can see our flaws as a part of our whole being that he finds lovable.
The spirituality of imperfection allows us to become more aware of the unconditional
love of God so that we can develop a healthy perception of ourselves. When we begin to see
ourselves more as God sees us, then we begin to accept our weaknesses and be more patient with
15
16
Ibid, p. 129
17
Ibid, p. 130
18
Ibid, p. 130
19
Ibid, p. 129
7
the imperfections we see in ourselves. The imperfections will always exist because they are a
part of who we are as created beings. All humans suffer from what psychologist and philosopher
William James called “torn-to-pieces-hood,” his translation of the German word
“Zerrissenheit.”20 We suffer from inner conflict and feeling “divided, fractured, pulled in a dozen
directions,” while at the same time yearning “for serenity, for some healing of our ‘torn-to-
pieces-hood.’”21 We feel our “torn-to-pieces-hood” whenever we come face to face with our
limitations, such as a loss of control, doubt, fear, or failure.
The spirituality of imperfection acknowledges that embracing our weaknesses and our
“torn-to-pieces-hood” is a path to wholeness and self-acceptance. This spirituality is built upon
the principle that “to deny our errors is to deny our self, for to be human is to be imperfect,
somehow error-prone. To be human is…to be broken and ache for wholeness, to hurt and to try
to find a way to healing through the hurt.”22 It is in our nature to make mistakes and to
experience inner conflict, but it is also human to strive for growth through the struggles and
challenges of life. We should not strive for perfection, but rather strive to grow by accepting our
imperfection, our flaws and failings, in order to achieve wholeness. The spirituality of
imperfection helps us to do this – it “helps us first to see, and then to understand, and eventually
to accept the imperfection that lies at the very core of our human be-ing.”23
Perfectionism
The spirituality of imperfection tries to lead us away from a life of perfectionism. As
perfectionists, we tend to have unreasonable or even impossible expectations for ourselves which
20
Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham. The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Search for Meaning.
(New York: Bantam Books, 1992), p. 3
21
Ibid, p. 3
22
Ibid, p. 2
23
Ibid, p. 2
8
lead us to have a damaged self-esteem when we “measure our worth by our productivity and
accomplishments.”24 Perfectionism never allows us to be satisfied by the result of our work. No
matter what we do, it is never good enough. Perfectionism is extremely destructive because it
leads to many negative psychological symptoms such as depression, anxiety, low self-esteem,
obsessive-compulsive behavior, fear of failure, troubled relationships, and addictive behaviors.25
Perfectionism is a pseudo-wholeness because it involves the acceptance of our strengths and a
rejection of our weaknesses, which we see as unacceptable.
But in addition to the psychological effects, perfectionism is also extremely detrimental
to the spiritual life because it does not allow us to accept ourselves. According to Wilkie Au and
Noreen Cannon, “self-rejection easily leads to a rejection of God.”26 Being dissatisfied with who
we are implies an ingratitude towards the God who created us. Through an attitude of
perfectionism, we are essentially telling God that what he created is not good enough. We
cannot be grateful and still reject parts of ourselves because our whole self was loved into being
by God. If we let perfectionism take hold of us, we risk slipping into self-hatred which is the
ultimate alienation from God.27
The founders of Alcoholics Anonymous understood the psychological and spiritual
dangers of perfectionism when they developed the twelve step program that would become the
most successful way of rehabilitating alcoholics. They believed that perfectionism spiritually
alienates us from God because in trying to be perfect, we begin “playing God.” Since only God
is perfect, aiming at perfection is not only unrealistic, but it also implies that we are striving to be
gods. By letting God be God and accepting our limitations, Alcoholics Anonymous asserts that
24
Wilkie Au and Noreen Cannon. Urgings of the Heart: A Spiritualty of Integration (New York: Paulist Press,
1995). p. 65
25
Ibid, pp. 67-68
26
Ibid, p. 72
27
Ibid, p. 72
9
we can find the “peace and serenity that alcohol (or other drugs, or sex, money, material
possessions, power, or privilege) promise but never deliver.”28
In order to understand how to accept our limitations, it is helpful to understand the two
types of perfectionism, neurotic perfectionism and narcissistic perfectionism. A neurotic
perfectionist usually has a healthy sense of self – in other words they have a distinct identity and
can act and make decisions autonomously. Their perfectionism stems from “a harsh superego,
which punishes them with guilt and loss of self-esteem” when they do not live up to its
demands.29 A narcissistic perfectionist, on the other hand, does not have a well defined self.
They “lack a stable inner core” and have a fragile sense of self, “forcing them to rely on others’
attention and admiration for their self-esteem.”30 Thus, their self-esteem fluctuates up and down
depending on the praise or criticism they receive from others. Being perfect is “the glue that
holds their identity intact.”31 The spirituality of imperfection attempts to heal both neurotic and
narcissistic perfectionism by emphasizing our natural human limitations and by encouraging us
to have an autonomous identity and healthy self-esteem.
Henri Nouwen and the Spirituality of Imperfection
Overcoming perfectionism through self-acceptance has been a theme in the spirituality of
different religions and peoples since ancient times. In the Christian tradition, the spirituality of
imperfection has been a part of the life and writings of the Desert Mothers and Fathers, St.
Augustine, St. Francis, and many other thinkers and theologians even up to the present day.32
28
Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham. The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Search for Meaning
29
Wilkie Au and Noreen Cannon. Urgings of the Heart: A Spiritualty of Integration (New York: Paulist Press,
1995), p. 71
30
Ibid, pp. 71-72
31
Ibid, p. 160
32
10
Unfortunately, the tradition of imperfection was often very different from mainstream religious
thought, which emphasized perfection. It was not until the 20th century that groups such as
Alcoholics Anonymous began to re-awaken this spirituality, which emphasizes acceptance of our
weakness in order to achieve wholeness or holiness.33
The work of many modern spiritual writers combines psychology and spirituality to even
more effectively explore the spirituality of imperfection and apply it to our lives. Henri Nouwen
is one example of such an author. Nouwen’s work bridges spiritual, ministry, and psychology in
such a way that is accessible to those on the journey that is the spiritual life. By genuinely
revealing Nouwen’s personal struggles, his writings have helped countless to learn to see and
accept themselves as beloved children of God. But he himself was far from achieving the self-
acceptance and wholeness that were the subject of so many of his books. Nouwen struggled with
his own “torn-to-pieces-hood.” His life was characterized by restlessness, by a constant search
for meaning and belonging, and by a dependency on others that often crippled his own self-
esteem and sense of self. The discrepancy between his life and writings led his friend and former
member of L’Arche Daybreak, Carolyn Whitney-Brown, to state:
When I think of Henri, I think of two “books”: one is the book that Henri wrote
40 times, yet couldn’t quite live; the other is the book that Henri lived for almost
65 years, yet couldn’t quite write. The second book waits to be written, as the
meaning of Henri’s life and wisdom reveal themselves now, after his death. 34
The focus of this thesis is to analyze the themes of perfectionism and self-acceptance in
both the “book” that Nouwen wrote many times, as well as the “book” he lived. His writings,
which were often extremely autobiographical, reveal much about his interior life and thus help us
to understand this complex man who struggled daily to accept who he was before God. This
thesis will explore the spirituality of Henri Nouwen’s life and writings, a spirituality of
33
Ibid, p. 5
34
Ford, Michael. Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri Nouwen. (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. xv
11
imperfection which emphasizes the acceptance of the imperfect within ourselves in order to
achieve perfection, or wholeness.
First, I will give a brief biography of Nouwen’s life to understand the major movements
and important life decisions that shaped his spirituality and identity. Next, I will analyze
Nouwen’s inner struggle with loneliness and his restless search for love and wholeness.
Throughout his life, Nouwen felt an ache at the core of his being for the love of God and the love
of those around him. This inner pain of loneliness caused him to seek love often in the wrong
places. Nouwen made mistakes and even wandered restlessly between life paths (a life in
academia, a contemplative life, the life of a missionary, etc.) in order to fill the emptiness inside.
These inner struggles are what drove much of Nouwen’s writings and eventually helped to shape
his personal spirituality.
Next, I will attempt to understand the wholeness Nouwen was able to find in the L’Arche
community, a place which embodied his spirituality. The L’Arche community, which was
founded by French-Canadian philosopher Jean Vanier, emphasizes achieving wholeness through
the acceptance of our brokenness and imperfection. It radically invites all who participate in the
community to accept the dignity and worth of others, no matter how imperfect. Ultimately,
L’Arche invites us to see ourselves as valuable and beloved in the context of a loving
community. Seeing and appreciating the disabled helped Nouwen see and honor the disabled in
himself. It helped him to learn not to harshly judge himself or others.
Finally, I will analyze Nouwen’s idea of one who ministers as “the wounded healer.”
The wounded healer ministers from a spirituality of imperfection. He or she uses their
brokenness as a source of strength. By accepting their imperfection and limitations, wounded
healers can empathize with others and help them to accept the good and the bad in themselves.
12
From Nouwen’s perspective, our own brokenness also reminds us that ministry is not about
“fixing” the problems of others or “getting things done.” Rather, ministry is about journeying
with others and is simply being with another person in their pain.
13
The Life of Henri Nouwen
Henri Nouwen was the first born of Laurent and Maria Nouwen on January 24, 1932 in
Holland. His parents were devout Catholics and instilled in Henri a love for his faith. From an
early age, Nouwen showed the signs of a religious vocation. Although he was a clumsy boy and
often felt out of place at school, he felt most comfortable when he would play Mass and pretend
that he was a priest. His parents encouraged him, turning their attic into a chapel and creating
child-sized vestments, vessels, and a small altar.35 Nouwen’s early desire to become a priest is
most likely from the influence of his uncle, Monsignor Anton Ramselaar, whom he affectionally
called Toon. His uncle, known during this time for his work in bringing together Catholics and
Jews, was a role model for young Henri.36
But as soon as Nouwen was becoming aware of his own vocation, he was also beginning
to show signs of a deep insecurity. Although Nouwen had a loving and very close relationship
with his mother, he continually doubted the love of his father who was very strict and the
traditional patriarch of the family.37 This struggle with feeling truly loved by his family and
friends was compounded with an early awareness of his homosexual orientation, an aspect of
himself that he could not accept until much later in his life.38
As soon as he was eighteen years old in 1950, Nouwen began his training to become a
priest. He excelled and thrived in this environment due to his intellect, ability as a speaker, and
his charismatic nature. But even in the seminary, his fellow students “recognized his need for
close companionship in an environment where students were encouraged to be friends with
everyone but no one in particular.”39 Nouwen persevered in spite of this and was ordained in
35
Michael Ford. Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri Nouwen (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. 73
36
Ibid, p. 77
37
Ibid, p. 72
38
Ibid , p. 73
39
14
1957, becoming a priest of the archdiocese of Utrecht. He requested to study psychology at the
University of Nijmegen, which was unusual for a time when the relationship between
psychology and religion was not yet well-founded. Nouwen went on to complete a fellowship at
the Menninger Clinic in Topeka, Kansas. This clinic was the birth place of pastoral psychology
and helped Nouwen to integrate psychology and theology in his life and ministry. 40
In 1966, Nouwen was offered a position in the psychology department at the University
of Notre Dame. It was during this time that Nouwen became to speak about issues he and his
students were facing in life: depression, intimacy, and love. His lectures were put into a
collection of articles which would become his first book, Intimacy: Essays in Pastoral
Psychology.41 During this time, he also began working on Creative Ministry, which made
groundbreaking contributions to the field of pastoral ministry. But it was while at Notre Dame,
he realized that teaching psychology would never be fulfilling on its own. Nouwen longed to
integrate psychology into ministry and realized his calling for theology.42
In 1968, Nouwen returned to the Netherlands where he worked at the Joint Pastoral
Institute in Amsterdam and the Catholic Theological Institute of Utrecht in the department of
behavioral sciences. He was looking for something, and this move back to the Netherlands was
only the beginning of Nouwen’s restless moving. The loneliness he struggled with at Notre
Dame followed him to the Netherlands, where Nouwen’s “need for friendship and community
produced a restlessness in him - he was looking for so many people and so many places, driven
by his need of real affection, a factor of unrest in his life.”43 Although he expected to remain in
the Netherlands, he was called back to the United States when he received an offer from Colin
40
Deirdre LaNoue. The Spiritual Legacy of Henri Nouwen (New York: The Continuum International Publishing
Group Inc., 2000), p. 16
41
Ibid, pp. 17-18
42
Ibid, p. 18
43
15
Williams, the Dean at the Yale University Divinity School, who was so impressed by Nouwen’s
book, Intimacy, that he was determined to have him a part of the Yale faculty. Nouwen accepted
the offer, impressed by the diversity and ecumenical environment of Yale, and became a
professor of pastoral theology in 1971.44
At Yale, Nouwen seemed to find his calling and a home for a time. He became
passionate about teaching ministry and became very involved in the lives of many of his
students. He wrote twelve books in the ten years he was at Yale, including The Wounded
Healer, which became a textbook for ministry in many seminaries and churches and Reaching
Out.45
During this time, Nouwen took two sabbaticals in which he spent six-month periods in
the Trappist monastery of Our Lady of the Genesee in upstate New York. He began to feel
pulled between his hectic academic life and this peaceful, quiet, but lonely life of a monk.
Nouwen was yearning for something that his busy lifestyle was not providing. He began to
wrestle with questions, such as, “What was driving me from one book to another, one place to
another, one project to another?” and “Maybe I spoke more about God than with him?”46 From
these reflections, Nouwen compiled The Genesee Diary, the first work where he frankly and
openly shared his personal struggles with his readers. Although Nouwen eventually decided to
return to academia, his sabbatical at the monastery helped him to integrate the two worlds he felt
pulled to simultaneously.47
As time wore on, Nouwen felt that his career at Yale was in conflict with his vocation. It
was now apparent that what he was searching for could not be found in the environment of Yale.
44
Group Inc., 2000), p. 20
45
Ibid, pp. 21-22
46
Henri Nouwen. The Genesee Diary (New York: Doubleday, 1976), p. xi
47
16
The demands of the competitive academic lifestyle was preventing him from living what he was
teaching and the values of intellectual success and prestige were so opposite to the spirituality he
taught. He resigned from Yale in 1981 and continued his restless search.48
Very quickly, he became interested in the “spiritual unity” between North and South
America.49 Through the Maryknoll missionaries, he spent six months in Bolivia and Peru where
he learned Spanish and served at a local parish. During this time, he became increasingly
interested in liberation theology and the social justice issues facing the South American peoples.
He began to integrate contemplation and action in his life and in his writings. His time in South
America transformed his spirituality by emphasizing that “the pilgrimage with God in the world
is a pilgrimage with God’s people in their struggle for liberation.”50 This led Nouwen to discern a
call to live and work in South America. Nouwen seriously considered joining the Maryknoll
order but he eventually discovered that his gifts would be best used in North America and that
the individualistic lifestyle of missionaries would be stifling to his spiritual growth.51
Upon returning to the United States in 1982, Nouwen was immediately offered a teaching
position at Harvard Divinity School, where he taught for six months out of the year and spent the
remaining time pursuing other interests, particularly in raising awareness about the conditions of
the oppressed in South America. In 1983, Nouwen’s friend Jean Vanier, the founder of L’Arche,
invited a very exhausted Nouwen to visit him in Trosly, France. Vanier, having renounced a
career in academia, invited two disabled men to live in community with him. Soon many
disabled and non-disabled persons joined his home and founded other communities. It was not
long before the L’Arche community spread throughout the world. Vanier immediately made an
48
Dierdre LaNoue. The Spiritual Legacy of Henri Nouwen (New York: The Continuum International Publishing
Group Inc., 2000), p. 29
49
Ibid, p. 30
50
51
Group Inc., 2000), p. 31
17
impression on Nouwen because he did not ask him for anything. He did not ask Nouwen to
speak or lecture or write like the rest of the world did. He simply invited him into his home,
sensing that he was homeless and wandering. This visit was to transform Nouwen’s spiritual
journey.52
After a few years teaching at Harvard for one half of the year and traveling the world for
the other half, Nouwen was feeling burnt out. The atmosphere at Harvard was even more
competitive than at Yale and Nouwen could not stand the arrogance and pretentiousness of many
of the other faculty members.53 In 1985, Nouwen resigned from Harvard and was again invited
to return to L’Arche in Trosly for one year. He decided to take this opportunity to discern what
God was calling him to do in life. During this time, he was immersed into the life of the disabled
and visited several communities, including the Daybreak community in Toronto, where he was
invited to serve as a chaplain in 1986.54 He developed a close bond with a young man named,
Adam, who was able to teach Nouwen despite the fact that he could not read, write, or even
speak. It was Daybreak that Nouwen was confronted with his greatest wounds and weaknesses,
especially his difficulty with intimate relationships.
Away from the accomplishments and prestige of a career as a writer and academic which
satisfied his craving for affirmation, Nouwen began to turn to people to validate his self-worth.
As he began to rely more and more on people to fill the emptiness he felt in his heart, Nouwen
fell into a dark period of depression that was triggered when his closest friend pulled away,
overwhelmed by his constant neediness.55 Nouwen’s inner turmoil was so devastating that he had
to separate himself from the community where he finally felt a sense of belonging and home.
52
Group Inc., 2000), pp. 34-35
53
Ibid, p. 36
54
Ibid, p. 40
55
Group Inc., 2000), p. 44
18
During his time away in Winnipeg, he was under the care of two spiritual directors, who guided
him through this difficult time. Nouwen also kept a diary, writing about his anguish, his
struggles, the lessons he learned, and the graces he received. Eight years later, he turned this
diary into a series of reflections that he titled, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through
Anguish to Freedom.56
In 1988, Nouwen returned to Daybreak and continued his ministry to the disabled and his
inner strength began to return. Although his heart still felt the same restlessness and longing, the
seeds of healing were sown.57 Despite his ongoing inner struggle, Nouwen never stopped writing
about his experiences of healing and reconciliation in the L’Arche community. During this time,
he wrote many famous works, such as The Return of the Prodigal Son and Adam, where he
described the lessons he had learned from the disabled man he cared for. During the last years of
his life, Nouwen also became more interested in the spirituality of the body and finally began to
come to terms with his sexual identity with the help of some of his gay Roman Catholic friends.58
In spite of all of his inner healing, Nouwen’s restlessness prevailed and he pushed himself very
hard, “trying to be all things to all people.”59 His health began to decline and on September 21,
1996, he died of a heart attack and was buried near his home, the Daybreak community in
Toronto.
56
Ibid, p. 45
57
58
Ibid, pp. 192-193
59
19
Nouwen’s Restlessness: A Journey from Loneliness to Self-
Acceptance
In proportion as our inward life fails, we go more constantly and desperately to the post office.
– Henry David Thoreau60
As we can see from the major events of his life, Nouwen was plagued with a deep
restlessness that left him spiritually, emotionally, and physically drained. It is important to
understand what drove Nouwen to search anxiously his whole life for an end to his loneliness
because it is the foundation of his spirituality and writings. When Nouwen wrote, he shared his
inner struggles with others, hoping that his testimony and vulnerability would be of service to
others who suffered similarly. Nouwen believed that when writing, his “lonely self” “should be
[his] first source of search and research.”61 Therefore, to understand Nouwen’s spirituality, we
must first understand what was behind his continual struggle with restlessness and loneliness
which he describes in so many of his books.
But first, we must address the difference between the life Nouwen urged others to create
and the life he actually lived. As biographer Michael Ford stated, “It is also difficult to explain
[Nouwen] without acknowledging a certain disconnection between his writing and his living, not
because of any scandalous gap between the two, but because he always managed to write way
beyond what he himself could actually live.”62 Nouwen’s wisdom was genuine and his insights
into the spiritual life came from a deep prayer life and lived experience. Yet, he was unable to
live out the wisdom that he shared with millions through his writings. As Ford states,
“Nouwen’s spirit, mind, and body all ran ahead of him; his books were often reminders to
himself of how he ought to be.”63 Nouwen displayed an awareness of his inability to live out his
60
Henry David Thoreau. Walden and Other Writings (New York: Modern Library 1950), pp. 723-724
61
Henri Nouwen. Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Doubleday, 1975), p. 29
62
Michael Ford. Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri Nouwen (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. xv
63
Ibid, p. xv
20
own messages when he wrote Reaching Out. He asks, “How can I tell others about reaching out,
while I find myself so often caught in my own passions and weaknesses?”64 But he quelled hi
anxieties by the words of one the seventh-century ascetic, John of the Ladder, who wrote in his
chapter on discernment, step 26 of his spiritual ladder:
If some are still dominated by their former bad habits, and yet can teach by mere
words, let them teach … For perhaps, being put to shame by their own words,
they will eventually begin to practice what they teach.65
Thus, Nouwen was able to justify the disconnect between his life and teachings. Although it
took many years, he was able to take to heart and live much of what he expressed earlier in his
life. Over the years, the gap narrowed as he began to see himself more as God’s beloved.
Because Nouwen’s weaknesses were central to his writings, he developed a deep
spirituality of imperfection. He continually focused on the struggles in his own life as a source
of healing and growth. In many ways, Nouwen’s self-disclosure in his writings played the role
of the type of clown that he describes in his book, Clowning in Rome. Nouwen writes that:
The clowns are not the center of events. They appear between the great acts,
fumble and fall and make us smile again after the tensions created by the heroes
we came to admire. The clowns don’t have it together, they do not succeed in
what they try, they are awkward, out of balance and left-handed, but…they are on
our side. We respond to them not with admiration but with sympathy, not with
amazement but with understanding, not with tension but with a smile. Of the
virtuosi we say: “How can they do it!” Of the clowns we say: “They are like us.”
The clowns remind us with a tear and a smile that we are sharing the same human
weakness.66
Like the clowns he describes in the passage above, Nouwen’s writings remind us of our own
weaknesses, our own failings. Although a brilliant writer who had deep insights into the spiritual
life, Nouwen was laden with deep burdens and struggles. But these weaknesses, instead of
64
Henri Nouwen. foreword to Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Doubleday,
1975)
65
John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, trans. Lazarus Moore (New York: Haper, 1959), p. 203.
66
Henri Nouwen. Clowning in Rome: Reflections on Solitude, Celibacy, Prayer, and Contemplation (New York:
Doublday, 1979), pp. 2-3
21
separating him from others, made him relatable and made his many books resonate with so many
who could see themselves in his inner conflicts.
We will first explore Nouwen’s struggles with restlessness. Simply from looking at the
number of times he moved throughout his lifetime, we can see that Nouwen was never quite
satisfied wherever he was. Whether it was teaching at prestigious schools such as Harvard and
Yale, living the quiet and secluded life of a Trappist monk, or living the life of a missionary in
Central and South America, he was always moving from place to place, book to book, job to job.
There was always something in him seeking for something which he could not express – a sense
of belonging, love, and community for which he deeply hungered. Every new opportunity
revived the hope that, “Maybe this time I have found what I have knowingly or unknowingly
been searching for.”67
While in the Abbey of Our Lady of the Genesee, Nouwen hoped to overcome his
restlessness by finding a sense of inner peace in solitude and quiet with God. This was a time of
great discovery for Nouwen because he was able to confront much of the brokenness that had
been causing the restlessness in his life. For example, Nouwen becomes frustrated when
encountering boredom with the monastery work. He writes, “Why didn’t I really enjoy the work,
and why did I want to go back to my books to read about the spiritual life? Is selecting stones in
the creek bed not the best spiritual life possible? Why do I always want to read about the
spiritual life and not really live it?”68 Here we see there is a deep desire, yet also an inner pull
away from the spiritual life. Nouwen longs for solitude and a life of simple work and prayer, yet
he also becomes bored and restless with this life.
67
68
Henri Nouwen. The Genesee Diary (New York: Doubleday, 1976), p. 10
22
While at the Abbey of the Genesee, Nouwen is also confronted with the negative
thoughts that fill his mind and distort his reality. He writes:
My thoughts not only wandered in all directions, but started to brood on many
negative feelings, feelings of hostility towards people who had not given me the
attention I wanted, feelings of jealousy toward people who received more than I,
feelings of self-pity in regard to people who had not written, and many feelings of
regret and guilt toward people with whom I had strained relationships. While
pulling and pushing with the crowbar, all these feelings kept pulling and pushing
in me, and I often looked at the curve of the river, wondering if Brian [a friend
and monk] would come to keep me company and help me to quiet them.69
Nouwen is feeling his “torn-to-pieces-hood,” the interior push-pull that is part of being a restless
human being in the world. Negative thoughts like the ones he shares in this passage burdened
him for most of his life. Thus, it was hard to find interior peace, stillness, and contentment when
his inner life was filled with feelings that never allowed him to be satisfied with what he had. No
wonder he kept moving from place to place, seeking just the right book or job or person that
would somehow satisfy his inner longing to simply be in the world.
While it did allow him to become in touch with his inner world, his time at the Abbey of
the Genesee did not fill a desire to simply be. Before coming to the Trappist monastery, Nouwen
describes how he “expected that [his] restlessness would turn into quietude, [his] tensions into a
peaceful life-style, and [his] many ambiguities and ambivalences into a single-minded
commitment to God.”70 Instead, he left as the same restless person that walked through the
monastery doors. Of course, he had learned much about himself, but he had still not found what
he was deeply searching for.
The same anxious uneasiness burdened him during his teaching years at Yale and
Harvard and during his brief period as a missionary in South America. Nouwen contemplated
devoting himself to missionary work in a desire to be in solidarity with the poor and suffering.
69
70
Ibid, p. 193
23
Although his desire to love and serve the people of South America was undoubtedly genuine, it
is likely that his motivation to try missionary work was, in part, an attempt to find work fulfilling
enough to quell his restless spirit. But like his time at the Abbey of the Genesee, it did not
satisfy the deep longing in his heart that kept him constantly moving. He writes in Return of the
Prodigal Son, his story of homecoming, that
the long years of university teaching and the intense involvement in South and
Central American affairs had left me feeling quite lost. I had wandered far and
wide, met with all sorts of life-styles and convictions, and become part of many
movements. But at the end of it all, I felt homeless and very tired.71
Nouwen’s feeling of homelessness is something that he was finally able to confront
during his breakdown shortly after joining the L’Arche Daybreak community. In The Inner
Voice of Love, a collection of spiritual imperatives he wrote for himself during this difficult time
in his life, Nouwen tells himself,
Stop wandering around. Instead, come home and trust that God will bring you
what you need. Your whole life you have been running about, seeking the love
you desire. Now it is time to end that search. Trust that God will give you that
all-fulfilling love and will give it in a human way. … Just stop running and start
trusting and receiving.72
His restless wandering prevented him from being still and receiving the love of God and the love
of those around him. Slowly and over time, he was able to return to his true home, the Daybreak
community, and receive their healing love.
During this breakdown, Nouwen also confronted much of the pain he had been carrying
in his heart for years. He described his pain as “the experience of not receiving what you most
need. It is a place of emptiness where you feel sharply the absence of the love you most
desire.”73 Instead of going into this pain and healing it, he realized that his entire life was
71
Henri Nouwen. Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming (New York: Doubleday, 1993), p.19
72
Henri Nouwen. The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom (New York: Doubleday, 1996),
p. 12
73
p. 26
24
actually a flight from this pain. Thus, much of his restlessness may be attributed to a fear of
confronting his pain. He confesses that, “[his] instinct for survival makes [him] run away and go
looking for something else that can give [him] a sense of at-homeness, even though [he] knows
full well that it can’t be found out in the world.”74 Therefore, no matter how hard he searches
throughout the world, he will never find the place, book, job, idea, or person that will make him
feel at home. Only with God and grounded by a loving community here on earth could Nouwen
find his resting place.
But one of his deepest insights into his own restlessness occurs in Reaching Out.
Nouwen writes that: “Maybe my own deep-rooted fear to be on my own and alone kept me going
from person to person, book to book, and school to school, anxiously avoiding the pain of
accepting the responsibility for my own life.”75 Thus, his restless and his loneliness are
intertwined. His fear of being alone in the world kept him constantly seeking a safe place where
he could be surrounded by those who could fill the deep abyss in his heart that desired love and
affirmation. But this kind of love, of course, is not realistic for human relationships. In writing
about the futility of finding “a final solution” for human loneliness, Nouwen illustrates
concretely how he was able to articulate an insight that he was unable to live out. He writes, “No
friend or lover, no husband or wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our
deepest cravings for unity and wholeness. And by burdening others with these divine
expectations, of which we ourselves are often only partially aware, we might inhibit the
expression of free friendship and love and evoke instead feelings of inadequacy and weakness.”76
Only God could fill the emptiness inside Nouwen’s heart that kept him aching in loneliness and
restlessly searching for a way to heal the ache.

74
Ibid, p. 26
75
Henri Nouwen. foreword to Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life. (New York: Doubleday,
1975)
76
25
Nouwen experienced loneliness as a “strange inner gnawing,” a “mental hunger,” and an
“unsettling unrest.”77 This feeling could be stirred by small, everyday rejections such as “a
sarcastic smile, a flippant remark, a brisk denial or a bitter silence.”78 Nouwen claimed that
when these dismissing acts occur, they “arouse our basic human fear of being left alone with
‘darkness…[as our] one companion left’ (Psalm 88).”79 While this may seem dramatic, it was
reality for Nouwen.
During a conversation with monk-psychiatrist John Eudes at the Abbey of the Genesee,
Nouwen has the following realization: “I put too much energy into any encounter, as if I have to
prove each time anew that I am worth being with.”80 Therefore, any small rejection in any
interaction with another confirmed Nouwen’s suspicions of being worthless. Yet ironically, in
order to soothe this feeling of insignificance, Nouwen surrounded himself with people who he
hoped might fill the emptiness of his heart. But instead, he became a needy, dependent friend
and who drove many people away from him. Later in life, Nouwen realizes that “in the presence
of the people [he loves], [his] needs grow and grow, until those people are so overwhelmed by
[his] needs that they are practically forced to leave [him] for their own survival.” 81 The needs of
his lonely heart were too much any human being to fill but Nouwen still kept restlessly searching
for the one person or place or mission that could satisfy his longing for wholeness.
From his writings, we can see that Nouwen seems to have been aware of his loneliness
and dependent neediness for most of his life. While at Yale, he seemed to be conscious of the
distractions he used to relieve the ache of loneliness. He writes in Reaching Out,
77
Ibid, p. 24
78
Ibid, p. 26
79
Ibid, p. 26
80
81
p. 9
26
When, after a busy day, I am alone and free I have to fight the urge to make one
more phone call, one more trip to the mailbox or one more visit to friends who
will entertain me for the last few hours of the day. And when I think about the
busy day I sometimes wonder if the educational enterprise so filled with lectures,
seminars, conferences, requirements to make up and to fulfill, papers to write and
to read, examinations to undergo and to go to, has, in fact, not become one big
distraction – once in a while entertaining – but mostly preventing me from facing
my lonely self.82
Even at the Abbey of the Genesee, Nouwen saw his neediness through his constant letter writing.
Although he entered the monastery determined to cut off all ties to the outside world in order to
more fully focus on God and his interior life, he found that he had become so dependent on
others for his sense of worth that he could not resist answering letters. He writes, “Perhaps part
of my letter writing shows that I do not want to be forgotten here, that I hope that there still are
people “out there” who think of me. Maybe part of my letter writing is my newly found way of
seducing people into paying attention to me here in the enclosure of a monastery.”83 This reveals
Nouwen’s need to be at the center of attention with his close friends. He needed his friends to
think of him, to invite him to parties and events, and to constantly remind him that he was
wanted. Like a co-dependent he needed to be needed. This need for constant affirmation may
have fueled his compulsion to produce, to achieve.
It was not until his breakdown after entering the L’Arche Daybreak community that
Nouwen was really able to heal some of his loneliness. Nouwen’s breakdown began when a
close friend, feeling burdened and overwhelmed by Nouwen’s neediness, pulled away from their
relationship. Nouwen interpreted this as a rejection and thus he spiraled into an intense
depression that once again made him question his own worth. But ironically this dark period in
his life led him to finally accept in his heart what he had been urging others to do in his books for
82
Henri Nouwen. Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (New York: Doubleday, 1975), pp. 28-
29
83
27
years. It was during this time that Nouwen was able to deeply listen to the loving voice of God
and come to accept himself more fully. In one of his spiritual imperatives to himself, he writes:
You must avoid not only blaming others but also blaming yourself. You are
inclined to blame yourself for the difficulties you experience in relationships. But
self-blame is not a form of humility. It is a form of self-rejection in which you
ignore or deny your own goodness and beauty. When a friendship does not
blossom, when a word is not received, when a gesture of love is not appreciated,
do not blame it on yourself. This is both untrue and hurtful. Every time you
reject yourself you idealize others. You want to be with those whom you consider
better, stronger more intelligent, more gifted than yourself. Thus you make
yourself emotionally dependent, leading others to feel unable to fulfill your
expectations and causing them to withdraw from you. This makes you blame
yourself even more, and you enter a dangerous spiral of self-rejection and
neediness. … Acknowledge your limitations, but claim your unique gifts and
thereby live as an equal among equals. [emphasis mine]84
Nouwen relied on others for his sense of worth because he could not see himself as loveable. In
the passage above, we see his struggle with self-blame, which he calls a form of “self-rejection.”
In any interaction with another person, Nouwen saw himself as the weaker, less worthy
individual.85 And thus, if an encounter did not live up to his expectations, he assumed he must be
to blame. Therefore, instead of developing loving and accepting friendships, Nouwen’s focus
was on proving himself to others. In the end, by listening to the voice of God and to those that
loved him in his life, Nouwen was able to come to see that he had nothing to prove, because his
limitations, his gifts, and his entire being were lovable.
Nouwen’s journey of self-acceptance formed the basis of his personal spirituality.
Therefore, his writings and spirituality were rooted in his longing for wholeness – a wholeness
that came only after learning to accept, and even love, his weaknesses and imperfections.
Although he tried to put the responsibility for his own wholeness onto others through his
constant neediness, the reality is that no one could have fulfilled the aching and longing in his
84
p. 87
85
28
heart. Only through a self-acceptance rooted in the love of God could Nouwen find the peace
that would still his restlessness. But what made Nouwen ache so much at the core of his being
for the love of God and the love of those around him?
Nouwen had so much trouble accepting himself before God and others because he was
filled with a deep shame. This shame was exacerbated by the Catholic culture he grew up with,
which emphasized our sinful nature and which made Nouwen feel “that he was no good,
damaged, or unworthy of acceptance and love.”86 In addition, Nouwen’s uneasy awareness that
he was homosexual contributed to his sense of being somehow defective since homosexuality
was officially listed as a psychological disorder until 1973. Due to Nouwen’s deep sensitivity,
all of these contributed to a daily struggle with shame that led Nouwen to question his worth.
According to friend and biographer Michael O’Laughlin, “wherever strong feelings of
shame are present, then there was someone, usually a parent, who instilled those feelings of
shame; there was a ‘shamer.’”87 Yet, it does not appear that either of Nouwen’s parents was
likely to have played the role of the “shamer” in his life. Nouwen had a positive and loving
relationship with his mother and although he struggled with his father, Nouwen’s siblings do not
seem to have the same the level of emotional struggles. In fact, Nouwen’s younger brother,
Laurent, believed that “[his] father accepted Henri much more than he realized.”88
According to friend and psychologist Peter Naus, it is more likely that Nouwen’s
loneliness and a lack of secure attachment to those around him stemmed from “a need for
security, affection, and love that exceeded by far what could normally be provided for a child.”
In Here and Now, Nouwen writes,
86
Michael O’Laughlin. God’s Beloved: A Spiritual Biography of Henri Nouwen (New York: Orbis Books, 2004), p.
80
87
Ibid, p. 78
88
Ibid, p. 83
29
When I was a small child I kept asking my father and mother: “Do you love me?”
I asked that question so often and so persistently that it became a source of
irritation to my parents. Even though they assured me hundreds of times that they
loved me I never seemed fully satisfied with their answers and kept on asking the
same question.89
Therefore, it seems that Nouwen’s insecurity with his relationships resulted from his high
expectations of family and friends rather than from a lack of love in his life. These high
expectations led many of his relationships to fall apart as friends and family found themselves
unable to meet his demands.
So it seems that one of Nouwen’s greatest strengths and his greatest failings was his
sensitivity, truly a two-edged sword. On the one hand, sensitivity allowed him to be attentive to
others in his life and develop a deep awareness of God. On the other hand, it also caused him to
over-personalize things, making him vulnerable to pain. He struggled with taking responsibility
for his own life and his own emotions in a healthy way. If a relationship failed, it was either
entirely his fault (because he was somehow less worthy than the other person) or the fault of
someone else. We can see this in his relationship with his father, who he believed had high
expectations for him. Because Nouwen felt that he could never measure up to these
expectations, he blamed his father for their strained relationship, instead of taking ownership of
his own feelings of shame and of falling short.90
Nouwen’s propensity to blame himself and others also extended to his image of God.
Although we cannot presume to know how Nouwen imagined God, it is clear that there is a
difference between Nouwen’s professed and operative images of God. Dr. Wilkie Au and Dr.
Noreen Cannon define our professed image of God as “what we consciously believe and say is
our image of God” and our operative image of God as “the actual image that influences our
89
Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit (New York: Crossroad, 1994), pp. 77-78
90
80
30
thoughts, feelings, and attitudes.”91 It is clear that, because Nouwen’s writings were always
beyond what he could actually live, there was a disconnect between the God he professed in his
writings and the God that actually influenced the way he lived. We see this especially in his last
book before his death, Can You Drink the Cup. Nouwen writes the following:
As for me things are not very different. After ten years of living with people with
mental disabilities and their assistants, I have become deeply aware of my own
sorrow-filled heart. There was a time when I said: “Next year I will finally have it
together,” or “When I grow more mature, these moments of inner darkness will
go,” or “Age will diminish my emotional needs.” But now I know that my
sorrows are mine and will not leave me. In fact I know that they are very old and
very deep sorrows, and that no amount of positive thinking or optimism will make
them less. The adolescent struggle to find someone to love me is still there;
unfulfilled needs for affirmation as a young adult remain alive in me. The deaths
of my mother and many family members and friends during my later years cause
me continual grief. Beyond all that, I experience deep sorrow that I have not
become who I wanted to be, and that the God to whom I have prayed so much has
not given me what I have most desired.92
This statement is surprising considering the personal growth he describes in works that precede
Can You Drink the Cup, such as Return of the Prodigal Son and The Inner Voice of Love. But
this passage speaks to his frustration with “the God to whom [he has] prayed so much.” This is
not the professed image of God who he presents in most of his works, the God who tells us “You
are the Beloved.”93 This is a God who has not given him what he most deeply desires and needs.
I think Nouwen, in this passage, reveals his operative image of God as a God that will not
provide for and take care of him. Just as he felt rejected by those in his life who could not fulfill
his needs, this passage reveals that he also at times felt rejected by God.
In reality, Nouwen experienced considerable growth in his ability to love and accept
himself towards the end of his life, but his inner sensitivity to his own pain kept him from seeing
the gift that his life was. It seems absurd to all those who have benefited so much from his
91
Wilkie Au and Noreen Cannon. The Discerning Heart (New York: Paulist Press, 2006), p. 112
92
Henri Nouwen. Can You Drink the Cup? (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, Inc., 2006), p. 37
93
Henri Nouwen. The Life of the Beloved. (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 2002), p. 26
31
wisdom that he did not “become who [he] wanted to be,” as he claims in the passage above.
O’Laughlin states that Nouwen was “the quintessential wounded healer,” since he “offered a
great gift to the world in spite of his own difficult emotional life.”94 In fact, “Henri’s difficulties
remind us that God can use anyone and, in fact, God often chooses persons whose weaknesses
are more obvious to bear the gospel.”95 Thus, Nouwen’s ability to speak from his own experience
of weakness and struggle is what allowed him to communicate God’s message so clearly. His
pain, weaknesses, struggles, and inner conflicts never left him, but he learned “to see in them
God’s presence and purpose” and ultimately, Nouwen was able to “integrate or ‘befriend’ them”
so that they could be fruitful for others.96 Therefore, Nouwen is a “perfect” example of
imperfection because by befriending his weaknesses, he was able to eventually accept himself,
accept the love of God and others, and transform lives through his witness.
94
84
95
Ibid, p. 84
96
Ibid, p. 84
32
Nouwen’s Homecoming: The L’Arche Community
Although Nouwen suffered deeply from the inner turmoil in his heart, he was able not
only to confront his loneliness and his restlessness, but also to achieve a greater wholeness
through joining the L’Arche Daybreak community in Toronto. Daybreak eventually became
Nouwen’s home, the place where he was free to be himself and to feel deeply loved.
L’Arche is a community founded by French-Canadian philosopher Jean Vanier, who
decided to live out his call to serve the poor by living in mutual relationship with the
developmentally disabled. The community began when Vanier invited two men, Raphael and
Phillip, to leave their asylum for the mentally ill and to live with him in his home in Trosly,
France. He stated in a lecture given at Harvard University in 1988, that he simply “felt called to
live with these two men who had suffered rejection and a lot of inner pain.”97 Vanier had no idea
that his radical response to the Gospel would begin a worldwide movement that seeks to promote
community, belonging, and the dignity of all, especially the disabled.
L’Arche literally means “The Ark” in French. Nouwen found this name particularly
fitting for this community because just as Noah’s Ark was a place where “people and animals
fled for shelter as the flood covered more and more of the land,” L’Arche, too, is a home that
shelters “vulnerable men and women who are threatened by the judgmental and violent world in
which they live.”98 Just as Vanier simply lived with Raphael and Phillip in the earliest days of
L’Arche, today developmentally disabled adults in all parts of the world live in community with
the long-term and short-term assistants who journey with and care for them.
Nouwen was first introduced to the L’Arche community in the late 1970’s while he was
teaching at Yale Divinity School. He was visited by a woman named Jan Risse, who simply
97
Jean Vanier. From Brokenness to Community (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 11
98
Henri Nouwen. The Road to Daybreak (New York: Doubleday, 1988), p. 9
33
came to bring him greetings from Jean Vanier, which was later followed by an invitation to live
for a time in L’Arche. Confused and surprised, Nouwen believed that “her greetings were but
the introduction to a request to give a lecture, a retreat, or a sermon or to write an article or
book.”99 Nouwen was used to being asked to do things for others but he had difficulty
understanding that a group of people would simply want to be with him and ask for nothing in
return. This encounter planted a seed in his heart that would develop into a deep call to abandon
his success oriented academic career for the simple and non-competitive life of the L’Arche
community.
Shortly after accepting his position at the Harvard Divinity School, Nouwen began to be
dissatisfied with the stuffy academic environment that emphasized productivity and
accomplishments above all. Yet, despite the spiritually draining atmosphere, Nouwen felt that he
was making a difference in the lives of his students through his teaching and his writings. Still,
Harvard “didn’t feel like home.”100 He writes, “My increasing inner darkness, my feelings of
being rejected by some of my students, colleagues, friends, and even God, my inordinate need
for affirmation and affection, and my deep sense of not belonging were clear signs that I was not
following the way of God’s spirit.”101 Nouwen was ready to respond to Jean Vanier's invitation to
live for a year in the L'Arche Community in Trosly in order to “discover the treasure of the
poor.”102
Nouwen's first experiences in the L'Arche Trosly community taught him much about the
gifts of the weak. He realized that “handicapped people, who have such a limited ability to learn,
can let their hearts speak easily and thus reveal a mystical life that for many intelligent people
99
100
Henri Nouwen, foreword to From Brokenness to Community, by Jean Vanier (New York: Paulist Press, 1992) p.
2
101
102
Henri Nouwen, foreword to From Brokenness to Community, by Jean Vanier (New York: Paulist Press, 1992) p.
2
34
seems unreachable.” 103 Their ability to pray with such clarity and such directness to God
amazed him. He writes,
When handicapped people pray for handicapped people, God comes very near.
The simplicity, directness, and intimacy of their prayer often makes me feel like a
skeptical bystander. I even feel a certain jealousy of their special gift of prayer.
But they do not want me to be jealous. They hugged and kissed me after the
prayer, and Michael took me by the hand to the sacristy to show me the red stole
he wants to wear.104
Nouwen was also struck by their capacity to love and welcome others. As Jean Vanier
states, the handicapped are “servants of communion,” “bringing people together” and “calling us
to look at each other in the eye and to recognize that we are all one people, and belong to one
body.”105 For Nouwen, the genuine love of these simple yet gifted members of the community
made him feel at home in a way that the competitive academic atmosphere of Harvard never
could. During this time, Nouwen cultivated an ability to see the gifts in those who are visibly
weak. Many of the core members in the Trosly community could not walk, feed themselves, or
dress themselves without help. Yet Nouwen was able to see their worth and dignity in the midst
of their weaknesses. Surrounded by the handicapped, Nouwen began to see the handicapped in
himself, and, paradoxically, grew to recognize his own giftedness surrounded by the love and
acceptance of the L'Arche community.
After his time in Trosly, Nouwen decided to accept an offer to become the chaplain of the
L’Arche Daybreak community in Toronto. It was in this community that he met, Adam, a core
member, who would transform him and become his teacher. Adam was the most handicapped
member of the Daybreak community, requiring constant care and attention. He could not walk
or go about daily tasks without aid and he could not communicate verbally. Yet this amazing
103
104
Ibid, p. 37
105
Jean Vanier. From Brokenness to Community (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 44
35
man was able to be a presence of Christ for Nouwen and for many others in the Daybreak
community. Nouwen writes that,
His transparency would later enable us at Daybreak and beyond to recognize

something of God’s unconditional love. His wonderful presence and his
incredible worth would enlighten us to comprehend that we, like him, are also
precious, graced, and beloved children of God, whether we see ourselves as rich
or poor, intelligent or disabled, good-looking or unattractive. As a spiritual
teacher he would lead us ever so gently to those inner spaces we prefer to leave
untouched, so that each of us could live out our true vocations. In relationship
with him we would discover a deeper, truer identity.106
It was the gentle being of Adam that helped Nouwen to confront his inner handicaps and
weaknesses. During his restless years in academia, Nouwen tried to ignore or conceal the inner
turmoil and pain that kept him from wholeness. But Adam’s complete dependency and his
visible handicaps invited Nouwen to look at the inner brokenness he had been trying to avoid for
years. He writes that,
Living close to Adam and the others brought me closer to my own vulnerabilities.
While at first it seemed quite obvious who was handicapped and who was not,
living together day in and day out made the boundaries less clear…And when I
had the courage to look deeper, to face my emotional neediness, my inability to
pray, my impatience and restlessness, my many anxieties and fears, the word
“handicap” started to have a whole new meaning…I began to realize that the
gentle safety of the New House was weakening many of the defenses I had
created around my inner handicaps. In this loving, caring milieu, without
competition, one-upmanship, and great pressure to distinguish myself, I
experienced what I had not been able to experience before. I was faced with a
very insecure, needy, and fragile person: myself. Looking out from this vantage
point, I saw Adam was the strong one. He was always there, quiet, peaceful, and
inwardly steady.107
It was the dependence and vulnerability of core members, like Adam, that invited
Nouwen to look at the neediness, the handicapped in himself. After living in the Daybreak
community for about a year, Nouwen experienced a deep emotional breakdown that forced him
to leave the community in order to care for himself. It was as if core members of L’Arche
106
Henri Nouwen. Adam (New York: Orbis Books, 1997), p. 31
107
Ibid, pp. 77-78
36
opened the flood gates of Nouwen’s heart and the anguish he had been storing for years
overflowed and called for healing. Separated from friends and a world of distractions, Nouwen
retreated to a quiet place where he could confront the brokenness of his heart with the help of his
spiritual guides.
During this time, Nouwen was completely dependent on others for his emotional and
spiritual well-being. He was beginning to understand that embracing our wholeness and our
belovedness requires vulnerability. Nouwen writes,
As I lived through this emotional ordeal I realized that I was becoming like
Adam. He had nothing to be proud of. Neither had I. He was completely empty.
So was I. He needed full-time attention. So did I. I found myself resisting this
“becoming like Adam.” I did not want to be dependent and weak. I did not want
to be so needy. Somewhere though I recognized that Adam’s way, the way of
radical vulnerability, was also the way of Jesus. [emphasis mine]108
The way of radical vulnerability required Nouwen to be open to the brokenness that he saw in
himself and to accept the imperfections and weaknesses that made him so insecure about his
worth and belovedness. The core members of L’Arche provided a perfect example for this
radical vulnerability because, as they allow themselves to be loved and transformed by their
accepting community, they invite others to see their own giftedness. Jean Vanier, speaking of a
core member, writes,
If he is so broken and so hurt and yet is still such a source of life, then I too am
allowed to look at my own brokenness and to trust that I too can give life to
others. I do not have to pretend that I am better than others and that I have to win
all the competitions. It’s O.K. to be myself, just as I am, in my uniqueness. That,
of course, is a very healing and liberating experience. I am allowed to be myself,
with all my psychological and physical wounds, with all my limitations but with
all my gifts too. And I can trust that I am loved just as I am, and that I too can
love and grow.109
108
Henri Nouwen. Adam (New York: Orbis Books, 1997), p. 79
109
Jean Vanier. From Brokenness to Community. (New York: Paulist Press, 1992) p. 28
37
Jean Vanier describes the power of the “weak”: their ability to give life to those who are
open to seeing their belovedness and their ability to lead others into embracing and loving their
own limitations as well as their own giftedness. In the L’Arche community, it is easy to see that
the “weakest” members of the community lead the “stronger” members into a greater wholeness.
As Nouwen began to feel that it was safe to be himself and that he was worthy of the love
surrounding him in the L’Arche community, he underwent a deep spiritual transformation. In
The Return of the Prodigal Son, Nouwen uses Rembrandt’s poignant portrayal of the parable of
the prodigal son to describe his own spiritual journey. For most of his life, Nouwen saw himself
as the prodigal son who needed to return to the warm and gentle embrace of his father. But this
image of himself and God, though applicable in many ways to his journey of self-acceptance,
was not all that he was called to be. Sue Mosteller, a member of the L’Arche Daybreak
community, urged Nouwen to embrace his true vocation. She tells Nouwen,
The time has come to claim your true vocation – to be a father who can welcome
his children home without wanting anything from them in return. Look at the
father in your painting and you will know who you are called to be. We, at
Daybreak, and most people around you don’t need you to be a good friend or even
a kind brother. We need you to be a father who can claim for himself the
authority of true compassion.110
It was during his time in the L’Arche community that Nouwen was able to respond to
Moesteller’s challenge. He writes,
When the prodigal son returns home, he returns not to remain a child, but to claim
his sonship and become a father himself. As the returned child of God who is
invited to resume my place in my Father’s home, the challenge now, yes the call,
is to become the Father myself. I am awed by this call. For a long time I have
lived with the insight that returning to my Father’s home was the ultimate call. It
has taken me much spiritual work to make the elder son as well as the younger
son in me turn around and receive the welcoming love of the Father. The fact is
that, on many levels, I am still returning. But the closer I come to home the
clearer becomes the realization that there is a call beyond the call to return. It is
110
Henri Nouwen. The Return of the Prodigal Son (New York: Doubleday, 1992), p. 22
38
the call to become the Father who welcomes home and calls for celebration.
Having reclaimed my sonship, I now have to reclaim fatherhood.111
Thus, Nouwen’s journey began with coming home to the Father by embracing his
weaknesses and his giftedness in order to see that he was the beloved son. But his journey
continued as he realized that he is called was bring others home to the Father. He was called to
reveal to others in the L’Arche community and beyond that they are worthy of love and to guide
them through the journey of self-acceptance and wholeness. This seemed for Nouwen a difficult
calling because he had always felt insecure about whether or not he was truly loved. How could
he guide others through the journey of self-acceptance when he had not yet reached the end
himself? But, once again, God chose a man with many weaknesses and struggles to lead his
community to a greater healing.
111
Henri Nouwen. The Return of the Prodigal Son (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 118-119
39
The Wounded Healer: A Ministry of Imperfection
Years before Nouwen was able to embrace his role as a Father to others, reminding them
that they are beloved sons and daughters of God, he described one who ministers as a “wounded
healer.” The concept of the wounded healer arose as Nouwen was trying to describe an effective
way of ministering to a very broken world. He believed that a person’s ability to minister
genuinely to another is dependent on their openness to their own experience of pain. When
ministers are willing to delve into the darkest corners of their inner life and embrace the
brokenness they find there, then they are able to more fully relate to and understand the pain of
others and bring them to a greater healing.
The “wounded healer” ministers from a spirituality of imperfection, because their work
entails embracing their failings, limitations, and deep inner pain. For Nouwen, this meant
confronting and not avoiding his restlessness and insecurity in relationships. But Nouwen also
believed that the most universal form of suffering, which he suffered from acutely, is that of
loneliness. Whether we are poor or wealthy, educated or uneducated, young or old, we all
experience the pain that comes with our search for belonging and connection with those around
us. We have all experienced rejection from others and we have all experienced the universal
hunger for human acceptance. Therefore, in our own way, we all suffer from and cope with the
pain of loneliness.
Nouwen compares loneliness to the Grand Canyon, because it is “a deep incision in the
surface of our existence which has become an inexhaustible source of beauty and self-
understanding.”112 Our natural inclination is to try to find a solution for our loneliness in people
or through busying ourselves, but the reality is that nothing and no one can completely or
permanently take our loneliness away. Nouwen argues that “the Christian way of life does not
112
Henri Nouwen. The Wounded Healer (New York: Doubleday, 1979), p. 84
40
take away our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift.”113 This is because when
we accept our loneliness as part of our humanity and when we open ourselves to our pain instead
of hiding or trying to “fix it,” then we allow our brokenness to bear fruit in our lives. Nouwen
writes, “the awareness of loneliness might be a gift we must protect and guard, because our
loneliness reveals to us an inner emptiness that can be destructive when misunderstood, but filled
with promise for him who can tolerate its sweet pain.”114
It is important for a minister to protect and guard their loneliness so that it can bring
healing to those to whom they minister. In fact, Nouwen argues that loneliness is the “wound
which [the minister] is called to bind with more care and attention than others usually do.”115
This is so that the minister can “convert his weakness into strength and offer his own experience
as a source of healing to those who are often lost in the darkness of their own misunderstood
sufferings.”116 By taking the time to sit with their pain and delve into their brokenness, ministers
are able to guide others to an understanding of their own struggles. A minister cannot lead
someone to a place where they have not traveled themselves. It is the minister’s life experience
which gives them the wisdom, compassion, and understanding to journey with and guide another
person to greater wholeness.
Jesuit theologian Michael Buckley expresses a similar idea when he asks,
Is this man weak enough to be a priest? Is this man deficient enough so that he
cannot ward off significant suffering from his life, so that he lives with a certain
amount of failure, so that he feels what it is to be an average man?117
In his article, Buckley believes that weakness is an essential quality for a priest, but his idea can
be extended to any person who ministers. It is crucial for a minister to bear his or her
113
114
Ibid, p. 84
115
Ibid, p. 87
116
Ibid, p. 87
117
41
weaknesses gently instead of trying to achieve a perfection that eliminates all of the limitations
which make us human. Embracing weakness allows the minister to relate to others in their
brokenness and pain and thus to be more compassionate and be more aware of the needs of those
to whom they minister. Buckley writes that, “Weakness relates us profoundly with other people.
It allows us to feel with them the human condition, the human struggle and darkness and anguish
which call for our salvation.”118 Thus, a minister’s own pain allows him or her to feel a
connection and oneness with the people to whom he or she ministers by sharing the darkness
which is part of being human. This deep connection through struggle allows the minister to be
stirred to a greater compassion for others.
Furthermore, embracing weakness allows the minister to grow in humility, to feel like
“an average man” as Buckley states above. Humility is an important quality for a minister
because when he or she does not minister from humility, it is easy to fall into the trap of “fixing”
the problems of others. When we place ourselves above those to whom we minister, we can no
longer journey with them in their pain and instead become problem-solvers with all the answers
to their struggles. This not only prevents us from being present to their suffering, but it does not
allow for the person’s pain to be shared.
Nouwen believes that our wounds can only be healed when we share our pain with
others. He writes,
A minister is not a doctor whose primary task is to take away pain. Rather, he
deepens the pain to a level where it can be shared. When someone comes with his
loneliness to the minister, he can only expect that his loneliness will be
understood and felt, so that he no longer has to run away from it but can accept it
as an expression of his basic human condition.119
118
119
42
Thus, the minister’s job is to facilitate the sharing of pain, because only then can he or she lead
others to sit with their pain, instead of avoiding it, in order to bring about understanding and
healing. Nouwen writes that “shared pain is no longer paralyzing but mobilizing, when
understood as a way to liberation.”120 This is because, “when we become aware that we do not
have to escape our pains, but that we can mobilize them into a common search for life, those
very pains are transformed from expressions of despair into signs of hope.”121 We do not have to
get rid of our wounds or fix them, but instead if we enter into them with an open heart and
simply be present to the hurt we find in them, our struggles can bear fruit. They can not only
provide us with peace and healing, but our struggles can lead us to a greater sense of compassion
so that we to can minister to a broken world.
Ernst Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham, in their book The Spirituality of Imperfection, also
emphasize the importance of shared weakness for healing. They write,
Shared weakness: the shared honesty of mutual vulnerability openly

acknowledged. That is where we connect. At the most fundamental level of our
very human-ness, it is our weakness that makes us alike; it is our strengths that
make us different. Acknowledging shared weakness thus creates a rooted
connectedness, a sense of common begin-nings. We will grow in our different
directions, with our different strengths, but our roots remain in the same soil as
everyone else’s – the earthy humus of our own imperfection.122
Thus, a minister who connects with others in their shared imperfections can relate more
intimately and directly with others. Acknowledging our limitations and humanness takes
humility, but as Nouwen states, when we are able to “[withdraw] into ourselves, not out of self-
pity but out of humility, we create the space for another to be himself and to come to us on his
own terms.”123 Shared weakness creates a connection with others that is essential in ministry.
120
121
Ibid, p. 93
122
123
43
Nouwen’s vision for the Christian community is one where all are able to acknowledge
and reveal our woundedness to one another. He writes,
A Christian community is therefore a healing community not because wounds are

cured and pains are alleviated, but because wounds and pains become openings or
occasions for a new vision. Mutual confession then becomes a mutual deepening
of hope, and sharing weakness becomes a reminder to one and all of the coming
strength.124
Nouwen envisions the Christian community as a place where we can mutually share our pain and
support each other on our journey towards wholeness and healing. Those who are able to
recognize our shared weakness are able to “see in others’ strengths a hope: the hope that your
strengths might also support me.”125 We are also able to journey towards wholeness when we
know that we are not alone in our suffering and in the limitations that come with being human.
Nouwen cautions about a dangerous misconception of the wounded healer as one who
uses his ministry to dump his struggles and problems onto others. He writes,
No minister can offer service without a constant and vital acknowledgment of his
own experiences. On the other hand, it would be very easy to misuse the concept
of the wounded healer by defending a form of spiritual exhibitionism. A minister
who talks in the pulpit about his own personal problems is of no help to his
congregation, for no suffering human being is helped by someone who tells him
that he has the same problems…This spiritual exhibitionism adds little faith to
little faith and creates narrow-mindedness instead of new perspectives. Open
wounds stink and do not heal. [emphasis mine]126
Thus Nouwen is not suggesting that a minister put their own problems in the center of their
ministry to another person. When a minister cannot contain his wound and it continually spills
out to those to whom he or she ministers, the wound can never heal and his or ministry becomes
self-centered and ineffective. Here, the minister simply opens and reopens his or her wounds at
each opportunity to reveal himself or herself to an audience. Nouwen is not advocating this form
124
Ibid, p. 94
125
126
44
of spiritual exhibitionism. Rather, he is encouraging ministers to delve into their own experience
so that they may be more present to others and so that they can more deeply understand the
suffering of others.
In his life and in his writings, Nouwen was a wounded healer. He stated many times that
he wrote from his own experience of inner struggle because he believed that “what is most
personal is most universal.”127 Thus, he shared his brokenness with the world so that others
could gain spiritual nourishment from his journey to wholeness and healing. Nouwen also used
his experiences of painful loneliness to minister as a Father, welcoming others into a warm and
loving embrace in the L’Arche community. Because he dealt so much with self-rejection,
insecurity, loneliness, and shame, he was able to understand the pain of others and helped to
reveal to them their belovedness and their unique giftedness.
Nouwen’s vision of the wounded healer does not just imply that a minister’s weakness is
his or her strength; it also implies that brokenness is the source of healing for the world. By
delving into his personal journey with all of its struggles and joys, Nouwen was able to more
deeply understand and empathize with the pain of those in our broken world. Therefore, being in
touch with our wounds helps to awaken our compassion, allows us to be more present to the
other’s pain, and gives us the ability to respond to others in a way that is healing and life-giving.
127
45
Conclusion
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and
whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us.
- 1 John 4:18-19128
The spirituality of imperfection teaches that perfection comes when we embrace our
weaknesses. We move towards wholeness when we can see our giftedness and love ourselves in
spite of our imperfections. When we accept our gifts and talents as well as our limitations and
humanness, we begin to accept our identity as the beloved sons and daughters of God, loved
unconditionally, not for what we do, but for who we are. God first loved us and when we come
to see that we are of infinite value to our Creator, we can accept our weaknesses without fear or
shame. When we love “perfectly,” we feel free to be ourselves before God, with all of our
human limitations. We are then free from all self-judgments, from the judgment of others, and
from fear of God’s judgment.
This journey of self-acceptance was Nouwen’s life-long struggle. He had to learn to
“believe in the yes that [came] back when [he asked], ‘Do you love me?’”129 Because of his
insecurities, he had trouble feeling that he was loved by others and by God. Therefore, Nouwen
suffered, for most of his life, from a deep restlessness that kept him moving from person to
person, place to place trying to find a remedy for his loneliness. At his core, he wanted to be
loved and accepted. But instead of turning inwardly to embrace his identity as God’s beloved,
Nouwen continually looked to the outer world (to people, places, activities, busyness) to satisfy
the longing of his heart. By confronting his brokenness, Nouwen was eventually able to accept
his loneliness as part of the human condition. He came to a greater self-acceptance and
wholeness through the love and support of the L’Arche community.

128
1 John 4: 18-19, NRSV
129
p. 8
46
Community transformed Nouwen by providing him a safe place where he could freely be
himself and feel loved. He writes, “No one person can fulfill all your needs. But the community
can truly hold you. The community can let you experience the fact that, beyond your anguish,
there are human hands that hold you and show you God’s faithful love.”130 It was at L’Arche
that Nouwen was able to finally feel at home. He was with a group of people who loved him
deeply and who accepted his faults and failings. The L’Arche community holds its weakest
members, the handicapped, at the center. Therefore, it became a place where Nouwen was able
to confront his brokenness. Although this was a painful process for him, Nouwen was able to
come to terms with his inner pain, to see his humanness and his belovedness, and to accept
himself more fully.
As Nouwen began to accept himself, he believed that he was like the prodigal son,
returning to the warm and welcoming embrace of his Father. But as Nouwen’s spirituality
journey progressed, he learned that, even though he felt like the younger son in many ways, he
was called to be the Father to a broken and hurting world. Nouwen was truly a wounded healer.
By journeying through his inner pain, he was able to use his experiences of loneliness to
understand and minister to others.
Nouwen’s writings have become a invaluable resource for those seeking self-acceptance.
It was because he was so broken and because he was willing to share so intimately his inner pain
that Nouwen was able to help millions who read about his struggles and received hope,
encouragement, and the wisdom to guide them along their inner journeys.
130
p. 7
47

Embracing Weakness: Henri Nouwen and The Spirituality of Imperfection

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EMBRACING WEAKNESS: HENRI NOUWEN AND THE SPIRITUALITY OF

II. THE LIFE OF HENRI NOUWEN

III. NOUWEN’S RESTLESSNESS: A JOURNEY FROM LONELINESS TO SELF

IV. NOUWEN’S HOMECOMING: THE L’ARCHE COMMUNITY 34

V. THE WOUNDED HEALER: A MINSTRY OF IMPERFECTION 41

the core of Christian spirituality.

The term spirituality is used somewhat casually in our day-to-day conversation. We

letting the container limit their growth.

and slowly shift towards a life of solitude, hospitality, and prayer.

What is the Spirituality of Imperfection?

what we do, not who we are. According to author Rachel Remen,

To seek approval is to have to no resting place, no sanctuary. Like all judgment,

able to reclaim our wholeness and achieve healing and growth.

Furthermore, it is what we tend to see as weaknesses in ourselves that become our

strengths. St. Paul tells us:

what we hide and see as unlovable in ourselves.

unconditioned love of God to be mediated to their weakness.”15 Thus it is our ability to

others through our struggles.

The spirituality of imperfection allows us to become more aware of the unconditional

William James called “torn-to-pieces-hood,” his translation of the German word

limitations, such as a loss of control, doubt, fear, or failure.

“torn-to-pieces-hood” is a path to wholeness and self-acceptance. This spirituality is built upon

The spirituality of imperfection tries to lead us away from a life of perfectionism. As

accomplishments.”24 Perfectionism never allows us to be satisfied by the result of our work. No

obsessive-compulsive behavior, fear of failure, troubled relationships, and addictive behaviors.25

Perfectionism is a pseudo-wholeness because it involves the acceptance of our strengths and a

rejection of our weaknesses, which we see as unacceptable.

But in addition to the psychological effects, perfectionism is also extremely detrimental

ultimate alienation from God.27

The founders of Alcoholics Anonymous understood the psychological and spiritual

possessions, power, or privilege) promise but never deliver.”28

types of perfectionism, neurotic perfectionism and narcissistic perfectionism. A neurotic

narcissistic perfectionism by emphasizing our natural human limitations and by encouraging us

to have an autonomous identity and healthy self-esteem.

Henri Nouwen and the Spirituality of Imperfection

Overcoming perfectionism through self-acceptance has been a theme in the spirituality of

weakness in order to achieve wholeness or holiness.33

member of L’Arche Daybreak, Carolyn Whitney-Brown, to state:

achieve perfection, or wholeness.

his personal spirituality.

founded by French-Canadian philosopher Jean Vanier, emphasizes achieving wholeness through

himself. It helped him to learn not to harshly judge himself or others.

brokenness as a source of strength. By accepting their imperfection and limitations, wounded

Jews, was a role model for young Henri.36

close companionship in an environment where students were encouraged to be friends with

professor of pastoral theology in 1971.44

the individualistic lifestyle of missionaries would be stifling to his spiritual growth.51

especially his difficulty with intimate relationships.

which he describes in so many of his books.

chapter on discernment, step 26 of his spiritual ladder:

Because Nouwen’s weaknesses were central to his writings, he developed a deep

who could see themselves in his inner conflicts.

been searching for.”67

he also becomes bored and restless with this life.

would somehow satisfy his inner longing to simply be in the world.

he was deeply searching for.

Prodigal Son, his story of homecoming, that

Nouwen’s feeling of homelessness is something that he was finally able to confront

in his life, Nouwen tells himself,

community, and receive their healing love.

find his resting place.

restlessly searching for a way to heal the ache.