Tuesday 11 June 2013

The Last Supper - Henri Nouwem - illustration by Rembrandt

Note: Robert Ellsberg (Orbis Books), and I have chosen to illustrate this book with several drawings of the life of Christ by Rembrandt, who, as already noted, played a critical role in Henri's spiritual life. (Editor).
Adding here the details of the three groups of the Apostles.
The Last Supper (Rembrandt) after Leonardo da Vinci  
The Last Supper. New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art 
Jesus A Gospel
Henri Nouwen
Edited and Introduced by Michael O’Laughlin
Illustrations by Rembrandt.
Orbis Books, Third Printing 2006

Excerpt pp. 86-94 ... Entering the Heart of the Gospel

The Last Supper

Isn't a meal together the most beautiful expression of our desire to be given to each other in our brokenness? The table, the food, the drinks, the words, the stories: are they not the most intimate ways in which we not only express the desire to give ourselves to each other, but also do this in actuality?" *17[The Life of the Beloved, 88].
He sent two of his disciples, saying to them, "Go into the city and you will meet a man carrying a pitcher of water. Follow him, and say to the owner of the house where he enters, 'The Master says: Where is the room for me to eat the Passover with my disciples?' He will show you a large upper room furnished with couches, all prepared."
-Mark 14:13-5

In the Eucharist, Jesus Gives All
Every time we invite Jesus into our homes, that is to say, into our life with all its light and dark sides, and offer him the place of honor at our table, he takes the bread and the cup and hands them to us saying: "Take and eat, this is my body. Take and drink, this is my blood. Do this to remember me." Are we surprised? Not really! Wasn't our heart burning when he talked to us on the road? Didn't we already know that he was not a stranger to us? Weren't we already aware that the one who was crucified by our leaders was alive and with us? Hadn't we seen it before, that he took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to us? He did so before the large crowd who had listened for long hours to his word, he did it in the upper room before Judas handed him over to suffering, and he has done it countless times when we have come to the end of a long day and he joins us around the table for a simple meal.
The Eucharist is the most ordinary and the most divine gesture imaginable. That is the truth of Jesus. So human, yet so divine; so familiar, yet so mysterious; so close, yet so revealing! But that is the story of Jesus who "being in the form of God did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, becoming as human beings are; and being in every way like a human being, he was humbler yet, even. to accepting death, death on a cross" (Philippians 2:6-8). It is the story of God who wants to come close to us, so close that we can see him with our own eyes, hear him with our own ears, touch him with our own hands; so close that there is nothing between us and him, nothing that separates, nothing that divides, nothing that creates distance.
Jesus is God-for-us, God-with-us, God-within-us. Jesus is God giving himself completely, pouring himself out for us without reserve. Jesus doesn't hold back or cling to his own possessions. He gives all there is to give. "Eat, drink, this is my body, this is my blood ... , this is me for you!"
     
We all know of this desire to give ourselves at the table.
We say: "Eat and drink; I made this for you. Take more; it is there for you to enjoy, to be strengthened, yes, to feel how much I love you." What we desire is not simply to give food, but to give ourselves. "Be my guest," we say. And as we encourage our friends to eat from our table, we want to say, "Be my friend, be my companion, be my love-be part of my life-I want to give myself to you."
In the Eucharist, Jesus gives all. The bread is not simply a sign of his desire to become our food; the cup is not just a sign of his willingness to be our drink. Bread and wine become his body and blood in the giving. The bread, indeed, is his body given for us; the wine his blood poured out for us. As God becomes fully present for us in Jesus, so Jesus becomes fully present to us in the bread and the wine of the Eucharist. God not only became flesh for us 'years ago in a country far away. God also becomes food and drink for us now at this moment of the Eucharistic celebra­tion, right where we are together around the table. God does not hold back; God gives all. That is the mystery of the Incarnation. That too is the mystery of the Eucharist. Incarnation and Eucharist are the two expressions of the immense, self-giving love of God. And so the sacrifice on the cross and the sacrifice at the table are one sacrifice, one complete, divine self-giving that reaches out to all humanity in time and space.
The word that best expresses this mystery of God's total self-giving love is "communion." It is the word that contains the truth that, in and through Jesus, God wants, not only to teach us, instruct us, or inspire us, but to become one with us. God desires to be fully united with us so that all of God and all of us can be bound together in a lasting love. The whole long history of God's relationship with us human beings is a history of ever-deepening communion. It is not simply a history of unities, separations, and restored unities, but a history in which God searches for ever-new ways to commune intimately with those created in God's own image. *l8 [With Burnig Hearts, 66-9].

Betrayal by One of the Twelve

It seems that there are more and more people in our society who have less and less influence on the decisions that affect their own existence. Therefore, it becomes increasingly important to recognize that the largest part of our existence involves waiting in the sense of being acted upon. But the life of Jesus tells us that not to be in control is part of the human condition. His vocation was fulfilled not just in action but also in passion, in waiting. *19 [A Spirituality of Waiting,” Weavings January 1987, 17].

 
Jesus was deeply disturbed and declared, "In all truth I tell you, one of you is going to betray me." The disciples looked at each other, wondering whom he meant. The disciple whom Jesus loved was reclining next to Jesus; Simon Peter signed to him and said, "Ask him who it is he means," so, leaning back close to Jesus' chest he said, "Who is it, Lord?" Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I give the piece of bread that I dip in the dish." And when he had dipped the piece of bread he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. At that instant, after Judas had taken the bread, Satan entered him. Jesus then said, "What you are going to do, do quickly" -John 13:21-7

God Handed Jesus Over
Jesus, sitting at table with his disciples, said, "One of you will betray me" (John 13:21). I read this today in the Gospel.
As I look more closely at Jesus' words as they are writ­ten in Greek, a better translation would be "One of you will hand me over." The term paradidomi means "to give over, to hand over, to give into the hands of." It is an important term not only to express what Judas did, but also what God did. Paul writes, « •.. he did not spare his own Son, but 'handed him over' for the sake of all of us" (Romans 8:32).
If we translate Judas' action "to betray," as applied to Judas, we do not fully express the mystery because Judas is described as being an instrument of God's work. That is why Jesus said, "The Son of Man is going to his fate, as the scriptures say he will, but alas for the man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed [handed over]" (Matthew 26:24).
This moment when Jesus is handed over to those who do with him as they please is a turning point in Jesus' min­istry. It is turning from action to passion. After years of   
 
Detail of The Last Supper.  
teaching, preaching, healing, and moving to wherever he wanted to go, Jesus is handed over to the caprices of his enemies. Things are now no longer done by him, but to him. He is flagellated, crowned with thorns, spat at, laughed at, stripped, and nailed naked to a cross. He is a passive victim, subject to other people's actions. From the moment Jesus is handed over, his passion begins, and through this passion he fulfills his vocation.
It is important for me to realize that Jesus fulfills his mission not by what he does, but by what is done to him. Just as with everyone else, most of my life is determined by what is done to me and thus is passion. And because most of my life is passion, things being done to me, only small parts of my life are determined by what I think, say, or do. I am inclined to protest against this and to want all to be action, originated by me. But the truth is that my passion is a much greater part of my life than my action. Not to recognize this is self-deception and not to embrace my pas­sion with love is self-rejection.
It is good news to know that Jesus is handed over to passion, and through his passion accomplishes his divine task on earth. It is good news for a world passionately searching for wholeness.
Jesus' words to Peter remind me that Jesus' transition from action to passion must also be ours if we want to follow his way. He says, "When you were young you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (John 21:18).
I, too, have to let myself be "handed over" and thus fulfill my vocation."

The Farewell Discourse

In Jesus, God became one of us to lead us through Jesus into the intimacy of his divine life. Jesus came to us to become as we are and left us to allow us to become as he is. By giving us his Spirit his breath, he became closer to us than we are to ourselves. It is through this breath of God that we can call God "Abba, Father,” and can become part of the mysterious divine relationship between Father and Son. *21 [Reaching Out, 89].

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You trust in God, trust also in me. In my Father's house there are many places to live in; otherwise I would have told you. I am going now to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you to myself"
-John 14:1-3

"l Am the True Vine, and My Father Is the Vinedresser"
Jesus said, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that bears no fruit he cuts away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, to make it bear even more" (John 15:1-2).
These words in today's Gospel open a new perspective on suffering for me. Pruning helps trees to bear more fruit. Even when 1 bear fruit, even when 1 do things for God's kingdom, even when people express gratitude for coming to know Jesus through me, I need a lot more pruning. Many unnecessary branches and twigs prevent the vine from bearing all the fruit it can. They have to be clipped off. This is a painful process, all the more so because I do not always know that they are unnecessary. They often seem beautiful, charming, and very alive. But they need to be cut away so that more fruit can grow.
It helps me to think about painful rejections, moments of loneliness, feelings of inner darkness and despair, and lack of support and human affection as God's pruning. I am aware that I might have settled too soon for the few fruits that I can recognize in my life. 1 might say, "Well, I am doing some good here and there, and I should be grateful for and content with the little good I do." But that might be false modesty and even a form of spiritual laziness. God calls me to more. God wants to prune me. 
Detail of The Last Supper.
  
A pruned vine does not look beautiful, but during harvest time it produces much fruit. The greatest challenge is to continue to recognize God's pruning hand in my life. Then I can avoid resentment and depression and become even more grateful that I am called upon to bear even more fruit than I thought I could. Suffering then becomes a way of purification and allows me to rejoice in its fruits with deep gratitude and without pride."

Abide in My Love"

Jesus says, "If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in God's love" (John 15:10). Jesus invites me to abide in his love. That means to dwell with all that I am in him. It is an invitation to a total belonging, to full intimacy, to an unlimited being-with.

"I have told you this so that my own joy may be in you and your joy be complete. This is my commandment; love one another, as I have loved you. No one can have greater love than to lay down his life for his friends. "
-John 15:11-3

The anxiety that has plagued me during the last week shows that a great part of me is not yet "abiding" in Jesus. My mind and heart keep running away from my true dwelling place, and they explore strange lands where I end up in anger, resentment, lust, fear, and anguish. I know that living a spiritual life means bringing every part of myself home to where it belongs.
Jesus describes the intimacy that he offers as the connectedness between the vine and its branches. I long to be grafted onto Jesus as a branch onto the vine so that all my life comes from the vine. In communion with Jesus, the vine, my little life can grow and bear fruit. I know it, but I do not live it. Somehow I keep living as if there are other sources of life that I must explore, outside of Jesus. But Jesus keeps saying, "Come back to me, give me all your burdens, all your worries, fears, and anxieties. Trust that with me you will find rest." I am struggling to listen to that voice of love and to trust in its healing power.
I deeply know that I have a home in Jesus, just as Jesus has a home in God. I know, too, that when I abide in Jesus I abide with him in God. "Those who love me," Jesus says, "will be loved by my Father" (John 14:21). My true spiritual work is to let myself be loved, fully and completely, and to trust that in that love I will come to the fulfillment of my vocation. I keep trying to bring my wandering, restless, anxious self home, so that I can rest there in the embrace of love." *23 [Sabbatical Journey].

"I Pray That They May Be One"

Jesus prays for unity among his disciples and among those who through the teaching of his disciples will come to believe in him. He says, "May they all be one, just as, Father, you are in me and I in you" (John 17:21).

"With me in them and you in me, may they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me and that you have loved them as you have loved me. "
-John 77:23

These words of Jesus reveal the mystery that unity among people is not first of all the result of human effort, but rather a divine gift. Unity among people is a reflection of the unity of God. The desire for unity is deep and strong among people. It is a desire between friends, between married people, between communities, and between countries. Wherever there is a true experience of unity, there is a sense of giftedness. While unity satisfies our deepest need, it cannot be explained by what we say or do. There exists no formula for unity.
When Jesus prays for unity, he asks his Father that those who believe in him, that is, in his full communion with the Father, will become part of that unity. I continue to see in myself and others how often we try to make unity among ourselves by focusing all our attention on each other and trying to find the place where we can feel united. But often we become disillusioned, realizing that no human being is capable of offering us what we most want. Such disillusionment can easily make us become bitter, cynical, demanding, even violent.
Jesus calls us to seek our unity in and through him. When we direct our inner attention not first of all to each other, but to God to whom we belong, then we will discover that in God we also belong to each other. The deepest friendship is a friendship mediated by God; the strongest marriage bonds are bonds mediated by God.
This truth requires the discipline to keep returning to the source of all unity. If, in the midst of conflict, division, and discord, we would always try to enter together into the presence of God to find our unity there, much human suf­fering could be relieved." *24 [The Day to Daybreak, 180, adapted].





No comments: