If I were blasting off for the moon on Apollo 18 (long delayed), and because of weight requirements I could take only one small book (let�s forget that CD-ROMs and whole libraries on CD-ROMs exist), I might indeed choose Henri Nouwen�s Making All Things New.

If I am ever fortunate enough to write a book, may it be this concise (95 pages), this complete, and this helpful. The book more or less addresses two subjects: solitude and community. I don�t think I�ve ever heard solitude described so well nor the idea of community. And I confess I�m more than a bit of a retard when it comes to community, so I found hope and guidance in the way Henri spelled it all out. I think we all tend to make things far more complicated than they need to be. This book is surely testament to the fact that simple can be better. And I found Henri�s fairly brief description of prayer to be simple, elegant, and quite refreshing.

I read that one years ago and can "second" your strong endorsement, Brad. It's amazing to me how Nouwen connects so well with Protestants and even people like yourself who don't find themselves formally affiliated in any particular religious tradition. That's part of his genius, I believe.

Yes, I don�t know about Henri�s wide appeal like you do, Phil, but it does not surprise me to learn that this is the case. I think what appeals to me is that he seems to work from life to theology, and not the other way around. He puts human lives and experiences in the context of Christian theology, but his stories seem to have an even farther reaching human context, a context that seems self-evident upon his brilliant descriptions of life�s realities, pains, joys, and problems.

And if there are other people like me who like a good book and also like the sense of accomplishment that comes from finishing a book, another one I can recommend is Henri Nouwen�s 111-page Can You Drink the Cup?.

This little tome could be best summed up by saying it is about finding joy in suffering, as sado-masochistic and rubber-suitish as that may sound. But Henri makes a quite compelling case.

Right, Brad, I think he does a nice job connecting experience and theology. But it's not as though one necessarily leads to the other; if that were so, there would be no agnostics or atheists. What's connects them in Nouwen's reflections in his own faith perspective - - his deep openness to and trust in God. And I think it's this faith shining through in his writings that speaks to people in a special way. He really was a man of deep and vibrant faith.

Here is what I think is an exquisite passage from that book, "Can You Drink the Cup?":

quote:

Just as there are countless varieties of wine, there are countless varieties of lives. No two lives are the same. We often compare our lives with those of others, trying to decide whether we are better or worse off, but such comparisons do not help us much. We have to live our life, not someone else�s. We have to hold our own cup. We have to dare to say: "This is my life, the life that is given to me, and it is this life that I have to live, as well as I can. My life is unique. Nobody else will ever live it. I have my own history, my own family, my own body, my own character, my own friends, my own way of thinking, speaking, and acting�yes, I have my own life to live. No one else has the same challenge. I am alone, because I am unique. Many people can help me to live my life, but after all is said and done, I have to make my own choices about how to live."

It is hard to say this to ourselves, because doing so confronts us with our radical aloneness. But it is also a wonderful challenge, because it acknowledges our radical uniqueness.

And I think it's this faith shining through in his writings that speaks to people in a special way. He really was a man of deep and vibrant faith.

Oh, yes, I will certainly agree with that. And if a baseball analogy can�t be dredged up to back it up, then it just can�t be true. But in this case, I think I can find one:

Last Saturday, before the Mariner�s April 8th game with the Athletics, there was a pre-game retirement ceremony for long-time Mariner catcher, Dan Wilson. He retired at the end of last season after twelve years with the M�s. Dan was the prototypical clean-cut, hard-working, honest, community-minded athlete who was very good at what he did. One could say he was the mold for such a man, although perhaps few have heard of this athlete outside of Seattle, although he did make at least one trip to the All-Star game.

It�s not expected that athletes be good public speakers, and surely on more than one occasion we�ve all sat through a rather dull speech by an athlete who was saying a few words at some ceremonial function or another. But in Dan�s case there was something quite compelling in the words he spoke. The words weren�t particularly fancy or exiting. But they were very real, very heartfelt, and very sincere. Even in rather laid-back Seattle where they do not make a habit of throwing batteries at opposing players from the outfield stands, Dan�s speech seemed so sincere and plainspoken that it surely came as a refreshing shock, even for those long-time fans who knew what he was all about. Dan spread effusive thanks that to the many who had helped him throughout his career and that included a quite explicit and specific thanks to the Lord.

I don�t think I was the only one who was touched by such a heartfelt speech from such a decent, regular type of guy. The character and depth of faith, whether from a Dan Wilson or Henri Nouwen, indeed do show through and color all that they do.