Week One: Preface and Introduction to WITH OPEN HANDS
With Clenched Fists . . . Henri tells us the story of the deeply troubled woman in a psychiatric centre who would not unclench her fist that held a small coin. “It was as though she would lose her very self along with the coin. If they deprived her of that last possession, she would have nothing more and be nothing more. That was her fear.” Henri says that when we pray, we must open our fists and give up our last coin. What coins are we clenching in our fists? Anger? Grudges? What are we afraid of? How do we let go of those coins?
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March 10th, 2009 @ 11:46 am
Wow, You touched a nerve with me. I could have posted many of the same comments. Fear, Trust, control!!!! It just reinforces my belief that we aren’t in this race alone. We are all the same at our core. I was introduced to Henri a year ago and the purging that has resulted has been painful but necessary. I am involved with a fantastic church that is teaching Love not legalism. It gives a whole new meaning to Christianity.
March 8th, 2009 @ 6:24 pm
Perhaps Ed, what you “feel” now that is something different, is the peace which passeth all understanding. I had been away from the church for many many years but Henri Nouwen readings have been a constant companion - now back into church life with many mixed feelings and grateful for the love of a small older and wise congregation but many times church life and church politics gets in the way of finding the peace we all so crave. Henri has been a constant companion for 30 years, and With Open Hands - given to me by a workplace chaplain so long ago - lead me eventually to that peace which passes all understanding. Love from Australia.
March 7th, 2009 @ 8:24 am
I am struck by how many here express hurt, deep hurt, in a church environment. Me too. For me the response is to set the church aside, finally, and not let it ruin my day or feel obsessed by its weaknesses. Instead, I put spiritual energy into trying to let the mystery of God’s presence find its way into that special place inside of me that is reserved for God. It isn’t easy, it’s sporadic, but I “feel” something different now. I can’t explain it. I just try to experience it and live it.
March 4th, 2009 @ 1:20 am
The time I am able to open my hand is, as Henri says, when I pray. I give all to God, good and bad, to do with whatever He will. As many have shared, life often causes us to close our hands and hearts-when I am able,I ask God for the grace to hold or release my “coins” with his guidance.
March 2nd, 2009 @ 10:45 am
Dear All,
It has been moving to read so many intimate responses to the question ‘what coins do we hold in our fists’ and comforting to see that others have and are experiencing similiar dilemmas and yet are still willing to make a considered journey.
Deborah and Diane, thank you for sharing such personal pain. It has been nearly 5 years now since I experienced deep personal trauma both within and without a particular church environment. Having been involved from the ages of 14 to 37, life has proved very tangled since events unfolded and I still hope for a new and positive future. It has also been very difficult to place my life within ‘divine’ hands again and certainly a very lonely journey. One that is in deep contrast to my previous spiritual walk and ‘ways of connecting’. I very much appreciated your honesty and am heartened that despite deep fears of further hurt you are both prepared to risk again and are even experiencing God’s love and a place of peace. Thank you for your words.
To all others, I am really looking forward to reading your insights and journey with Nouwen!
Louise
March 2nd, 2009 @ 10:32 am
This reflection was in my inbox this morning, sent to me by Jacquie, one of our volunteers. I read it with the image of a clenched fist in my mind and realized how we cut overselves off from others when we close our hands. With hands clutching coins of anger and resentment, it is difficult to reach out, to embrace others or be touched by others. We cannot give nor can we receive when our hands are closed. Blessings on your day . . .
“Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn’t move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.
‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,’ I explained to her.
‘Have you ever looked at your hands,’ she asked. ‘I mean really looked at your hands?’
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.
‘Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and embrace life.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.
They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.
They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn’t understand. And now, when not much of anything else of me works very well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will take to lead me home to touch the face of Christ.’
When I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of Grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel God’s hands upon my face.
Let’s continue praying for one another.”
March 2nd, 2009 @ 12:29 am
The coin I clutch is idealism … if only things were as they should be, if only people would do what they should and perhaps if I try hard enough to set things up right, it will happen as it “should”.
I need to replace this with listening, empathizing, repenting …
March 1st, 2009 @ 2:57 pm
Inside my closed fist is my control over things. I would describe myself (and I believe that most people who know me) as very organized. It helps as a high school principal and a mom of two teenagers - it works to accomplish the week’s tasks. And yet I am aware that this control also prevents me from spiritual and emotional growth - there’s never enough time. So here I am this Lent … taking the time to look inside myself and gradually (I hope ) let go of my coins. I guess I worry that ultimately (and probably all worry about this) I will look inside and find that what I see is less than I would hope. Intellectually I would tell you that thought is hogwash, but emotionally I worry.
On another note, many of your comments brought to mind a quotation from T.S. Eliot, I believe. He states that (and this is a paraphrase) is the still point, that quiet ever presence which provides quiet, guidance, and support.
February 28th, 2009 @ 8:21 pm
Thank you, Diane, for your comments. I could cut and paste your response as my own. “What is personal is most universal.” I’m afraid to trust. I’m afraid to trust God and those around me. Like you I have been hurt in the past, including a very hurtful church situation. It’s hard to open up my fist, to make myself vulnerable when I’ve been hurt in the past by those who I thought were “safe” people to be around.
Like both Diane and Joe, it’s going to that center–that true self in solitude and silence–that I am learning to bask in God’s love for me, allowing God’s nurturing care to heal me. I’d like to say that my fist is always open, but it isn’t. I still need to learn to trust God enough to keep my fist open even around hurtful people. When I thought about the fist metaphor this past week, I realized that I still have several fears that make such trust very difficult.
I’m praying that God will use this Lenten journey with Henri and all of you to gently pry open my hand in greater trust.
Peace–Deborah
February 28th, 2009 @ 7:51 pm
Bill,
I think it is wise to try and develop a relationship with someone who can serve as a spiritual guide/director. There are times when we will not realize that we are closing our fists. It is at those times that a spiritual guide/director could help us recognize the need to open our hands and perhaps even help us find the way to open our fists.
February 28th, 2009 @ 10:44 am
As always, Henri’s words speak to me in many ways and expose the thoughts of my heart that I am convinced belong only to me. What I love about Henri, among other things, is the way he helps me to see that “what is personal is most universal” (page14). I’ve lost track of the number of times I have read something he wrote and thought “Someone else feels/thinks this way too?” This has given me a tremendous amount of comfort and courage in my spiritual journey. For me, the “coin that I am clenching tightly in my fist” is most definitely fear. Because of hurtful things that have happened in my past, including a devastating experience with a religious organization, I have been very cautious about opening my fist and allowing God—-or anyone else—-in. The journey towards healing my soul began with this very community! It was, and still is, a safe place for me to slowly allow people into my life again. I am forever grateful to Henri, and this “cyber-community” for helping me to begin to unclench my fish. That was 2 years ago.
To your question Bill, I would say that—for me—I had to begin my journey in a place of solitude. I was unwilling or unable to let anyone else travel it with me. God was so patient and gentle with me and knew exactly what I needed. I believe that as you spend time in silence, stillness and meditation with God, He will make you aware of (and bring lovingly to you) what/who need. Joe said it so perfectly—Henri helped me realize that God resides in a small, still place inside me and I can hear His voice if I sit still and listen for it. One of my favorite Nouwen quotes is from “Here and Now” where Henri says:
“There is a space within us where God dwells and where we are invited to dwell with God. Once we come to know that inner, holy place, a place more beautiful and precious than any place we can travel to, we want to be there and be spiritually fed”.
Peace to you all
Diane
February 27th, 2009 @ 8:46 pm
Would it be wise to have another person to join the the journey? To encourage each other to stay the course?
February 27th, 2009 @ 12:09 pm
I recently wrote about a similar topic in my personal blog. I think one of the larger things we tend to hold most closely in our fists is, to borrow a phrase from Nouwen himself, our “true self.” Whether out of fear or because of past negative experiences, we build protective walls around our identity so that no one can really know us.
We do it with God, too. In spite of our awareness of God’s intimate knowledge of every part of our being, we still try to hide ourselves away from him, much like Adam and Eve in the garden. We cling tightly to that sense of self because we think it is the only thing that is truly “ours.”
I believe the only way to let go of that particular coin is to follow advice that Nouwen gives all over the place in his writing - to find that place where we hide away our true selves, our center, and spend all the time necessary in that place until we recognize that God is already there and already knows us better than we could ever know ourselves. Armed with that realization, we can slowly begin to open our hands and let down our defenses.
February 27th, 2009 @ 11:46 am
The false selve contains a lot of coins to release. But how will we know the real self when it manifests.
Henri says in one of his books the real and true self is Jesus within you. To take this inward journey will be definitly challenging yet so rewarding. But should we do it alone ?