Jul 2007

The Road to Daybreak
A Spiritual Journey

by Henri J M Nouwen

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A New Beginning Continue from ......

1. Parents and Children

It is dark now, very dark. Not a sound around me, only the regular beat of the quartz alarm clock Jutta Ayer gave me shortly before I left. The clock reminds me of the world I left behind. Here no one has told me when to get up tomorrow, what to do, or whom to meet: no classes, interviews, or counselling, no last minute phone calls or visits. Tomorrow is as open as any tomorrow has ever been. What will it bring? Only God knows. The silence whispers, "Go to bed and sleep as long as you want. Nobody will wake you up." I will push the button of my quartz clock to the white do which reads "signal off." A new life has begun.

The Name above all other Names

The house in which I live is called "Les Marronniers." I had known the name, but only today did I find out its meaning. Madame Vanier told me that les marronniers are the four large chestnut trees standing in front of the house. "Each of them has a different name." she said, "Marc, Luc, Matthew, and Jean," and with a smile she added, "You will understand why I called the one closest to the house Jean."

Names are very important. For a long time I lived with the conviction that Francis Avenue, on which Harvard Divinity School stands, was named after St Francis. That had somehow given me a little consolation as I walked to work. I must have suppressed my inclination to verify this conviction out of fear of being robbed of another illusion, but one day someone brought me back to earth by informing me that the Francis for whom the street was named was a nineteenth-century Divinity School professor and not my favourite saint. I am sure that no saints gave their names to any of Cambridge's streets or Harvard's houses. Here in Trosly the saints are everywhere and the community for the handicapped is called L'Arche, a constant reminder of Noah's Ark, to which people and animals fled for shelter as the flood covered more and more of the land. L'Arche is indeed the place where many vulnerable men and women who are threatened by the judgemental and violent world in which they live can find a safe place and feel at home.

Names tell stories, most of all the name which is above all other names, the name of Jesus. In his name I am called to live. His name has to become my house, my dwelling place, my refuge, my ark. His name has to start telling the story of being born, growing up, growing old, and dying - revealing a God who loved us so much that he sent his only child to us.


- To Be Continued -



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