Hans Deventer
16th November 2006, 12:27 AM (00:27)
The title of this book of course refers to the question Jesus asked John and James, when they had tried to get assigned to the seats of honour by having their mother (!) ask Jesus for those places for her sons.
Nouwen puts the question into the perspective of one's entire life. I think it is a dreadful question and the one you least want to hear. And yet, Jesus Himself had to drink the cup, so can we expect anything else?
The book begins with him remembering the day that cardinal Alfrink ordained him as a priest in the Roman Catholic Church back in 1957. He was presented a golden chalice, that his uncle, also a priest, had given him.
He goes on to explain that nowadays, in the Daybreak Community in Toronto, he uses glass chalices. In between those events lies the change in views of ministry and sacraments. We are to raise our cups, and show what is in them. Not in an exhibitionist way, but among those we can trust and with whom we share our life's journey.
We are to seek the joy that God provides in that cup, even in the suffering.
Now all of this could very easily sound pious but superficial. But here, it does not. Nouwen does not smoothen things over. He shares about his own journey:
But now I know that my sorrows are mine and will not
leave me. In fact I know 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.
In the light of sentiments like these, a testimony of finding joy in the "cup of life" has an authentic ring to it.
This last book he saw published in his life serves as a fitting last word from the "Wounded Healer". It does help you to find healing for your own wounds.
Nouwen puts the question into the perspective of one's entire life. I think it is a dreadful question and the one you least want to hear. And yet, Jesus Himself had to drink the cup, so can we expect anything else?
The book begins with him remembering the day that cardinal Alfrink ordained him as a priest in the Roman Catholic Church back in 1957. He was presented a golden chalice, that his uncle, also a priest, had given him.
He goes on to explain that nowadays, in the Daybreak Community in Toronto, he uses glass chalices. In between those events lies the change in views of ministry and sacraments. We are to raise our cups, and show what is in them. Not in an exhibitionist way, but among those we can trust and with whom we share our life's journey.
We are to seek the joy that God provides in that cup, even in the suffering.
Now all of this could very easily sound pious but superficial. But here, it does not. Nouwen does not smoothen things over. He shares about his own journey:
But now I know that my sorrows are mine and will not
leave me. In fact I know 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.
In the light of sentiments like these, a testimony of finding joy in the "cup of life" has an authentic ring to it.
This last book he saw published in his life serves as a fitting last word from the "Wounded Healer". It does help you to find healing for your own wounds.