18 Sermon Illustrations on Communion with God

Bishop Burnet declares, that, having known Archbishop Leighton intimately for many years, he had never seen him in any other temper than that in which he would wish to live and die. Hewitson writes, "I think I know more of Jesus Christ than of any earthly friend." Hence one who knew him well remarked, "One thing struck me in Mr. Hewitson: he seemed to have no gaps, no intervals, in his communion with God. I used to feel when with him, that it was being with one who was a vine watered every moment." Bowes.

The Rev. James Owen of Shrewsbury, being asked, when on his death-bed, whether he would have some of his friends sent for to keep him company, replied, "My fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ; and he that is not satisfied with that company doth not deserve it."

Jacob comes back to Bethel (house of God). Imperfect communion with God until all idols are put out and we come into His presence as He directs

Have you ever been alone on a high mountain? Far down and beyond were the busy towns and cities, with their din and strife, their cries and tears. No sound of the wrangle of human life reached you. Alone, there perhaps you communed with God; you had precious tokens that the Lord loved you; your very heart and soul seemed to rise up into His nature—you walked with God. Ah, you were alone, like Jesus; and yet not alone.

Matthew Henry, the great Commentator, said in his latter days: “A life spent in the service of God, and in communion with Him, is the most comfortable life that any one can lead.”

When you have been sitting in a well-lighted room and are suddenly called into the outer darkness, how black it seems; and thus when a man has dwelt in communion with God, sin becomes exceeding sinful, and the darkness in which the world lieth appears like tenfold night.

Henri Nouwen is a man in whom opposites seem to dwell side by side. A Catholic priest, author of dozens of widely acclaimed books on spirituality and ministry, Nouwen writes often of Christians' desperate need for reflection and solitude. Yet his gangly, slightly stooped frame moves with nervous, almost frenetic energy. People are in and out of his home and office at all hours, usually beginning around 7:30 A.M. and often until late at night. Every day he is involved with at least one Eucharist service, gives spiritual direction, attends to personnel issues, and offers care to many at Daybreak, the community for the mentally and physically handicapped where he ministers just north of Toronto.

And this eloquent exponent of prayerful silence loves to talk. In one interview I managed to pose only three or four questions to Nouwen in as many hours. Each question triggered an unstoppable flow of observations, stories, biblical references. Sometimes he sheepishly apologizes: "Sorry I talk so long." But his talk is more than words. He brims with insights about the spiritual life. Once he told a gathering of Baptist ministers, "Ministry is the least important thing. You cannot not minister if you are in communion with God and live in community. A lot of people are always concerned about: 'How can I help people? Or help the youth to come to Christ? Or preach well? But these are all basically nonissues. If you are burning with the love of Jesus, don't worry: everyone will know. They will say, 'I want to get close to this person who is so full of God.'"

Perhaps the greatest irony concerns Nouwen's present work. This former professor at Notre Dame, Yale, and Hazard now devotes his energies to those whose IQs and disabilities place them on the margins of society. Books such as "The Wounded Healer" and "Creative Ministry" have been textbooks for untold numbers of seminarians, yet Nouwen frequently addresses those who can understand only the barest rudiments of faith. There is, however, a certain consistency in the midst of the opposites and ironies, one found not in Nouwen's career accomplishments, but in his faith. ...

Life at Daybreak requires patience for the long haul. It is part of L'Arche (French for ark), an international network of ecumenical communities where mentally handicapped persons and their assistants attempt to live together according to the gospel. The first L'Arche community was founded in Trosly, France, by French Catholic layman Jean Vanier in 1964. Nouwen has lived in Daybreak since 1986. One of the oldest and largest L'Arche communities in North America, it is home to more than a hundred people.

"Jesus didn't say, 'Blessed are those who care for the poor.' He said, 'Blessed are we where we are poor, where we are broken.' It is there that God loves us deeply and pulls us into deeper communion with himself. I find it very important," Nouwen adds, "to stress that we are wounded healers; we don't have to run away from our vulnerability as if we don't hurt."

One evening I went for a long walk with a member who had severe brain damage as a child. I was touched by his humor, insight, and empathy. Without Daybreak, he--and others in the community--could end up on the street. Many people in L'Arche are rejected and outcast in the world. But L'Arche embraces everyone, handicapped members and assistants, reminding all that God loves us in our brokenness.

Nouwen insists that those who want to understand him must encounter L'Arche. Interviewers are encouraged to spend time at Daybreak, absorbing its unique dynamics. He told me, "L'Arche exists not to help the mentally handicapped get 'normal,' but to help them share their spiritual gifts with the world. The poor of spirit are given to us for our conversion. In their poverty, the mentally handicapped reveal God to us and hold us close to the gospel." Many times, as he travels, Nouwen brings along one or more handicapped members to his speaking engagements. "I'm not just Henri Nouwen anymore," he often says.

The community indeed seems exceptional. Assistants are not do-gooders who come in a short burst of naive idealism. Many serve in L'Arche for years or even decades. And I met people from around the world: Italy, Germany, Australia, the Dominican Republic. Assistants often quickly engage in intense spiritual conversations. (You also hear much "shop talk" about wheelchairs, lifts, and illnesses. )

One morning, as I sat in the semidark chapel praying, Scan, an assistant from Ireland, opened the door and pushed in a large wheelchair bearing Michael. Michael is profoundly handicapped: unable to walk, talk, or feed himself. He was elaborately draped in a poncho to protect him from the cold. Scan carefully removed Michael's poncho. They sat, praying. From time to time, Scan shifted or massaged Michael's body. At L'Arche, physical care and spirituality are deeply interwoven. ...

Many evangelicals find their way to Nouwen tier [to?] help with their walk with God. Some time ago, Mike Yaconelli, iconoclastic editor of "The Door," and other evangelical youth ministry leaders came for a lengthy stay. Yaconelli wrote of that retreat: "I knew what it meant to believe in Jesus; I did not know what it meant to be with Jesus. ...I found it easy to do the work of God, but I had no idea how to let God work in me."

Working with experienced evangelical pastors, Nouwen sometimes senses fatigue and spiritual exhaustion. They might wonder: "How can we-who talk about Jesus and want to bring people to Jesus, and want to help others bring people to Jesus-keep living a vital spiritual life?"

About a retreat with evangelical leaders, he remembers: "Our time was fruitful because they discovered what it would mean to live a Christ-centered life. To live in communion with Jesus was very central. We discussed what John the evangelist says about a relationship with Jesus. Jesus wants to dwell in us. Out of our intimate communion with Jesus we can start to minister. So Jesus is not just someone who lived a long time ago and was the Son of God and whom we follow. He is also the one with whom we live in constant communion and whose life is our life."

Evangelicals do not just come to Nouwen, he also goes to them, accepting many invitations to speak at Bible schools or to even bigger audiences. Nouwen appreciates evangelicals' openness about faith--"I love the directness that's involved, speaking about Jesus without embarrassment or complications"--but he argues that evangelicals have "a great need for a mystical dimension to their lives so they could be more free in living and not driven. The question is not 'How many people did I bring to Jesus?' but 'How faithful has your life with Jesus been?' Jesus was often not very successful, either. The question becomes 'Can I live a life of faith in the world and trust that it will bear fruit even when it has not many successes?'

"The evangelical movement has become just a bit victimized by a success-oriented culture, wanting the church --like the corporation-- to be successful. On that level, the mystical tradition of communion with Christ is important. 'I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain connected with me, then you will bear fruit.' The fruit is not success?'

At the core of life at Daybreak is worship. Although the community is ecumenical and there are variously striped Protestants present, the Eucharist is usually "high church --Roman Catholic or Anglican. Candles burn everywhere. Here is a picture of Francis of Assisi, there a Russian icon of Jesus. The priest is arrayed in a liturgical robe with a colorful stole. Handicapped community members sit on either side, ready to assist. Chairs encircle a huge, ark-shaped wooden table that was built in the community's wood shop. In one corner is a large bean bag for those handicapped people whose bodies cannot fit into a "regular" chair.

The service is an unlikely juxtaposition of the unexpected. At times we sing Greek, Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy). Then the formality, ritual, and candles feel "high church." At other times, we sing "Kumbayah" or other simple, folksy ,songs. Not all voices are on key. Not all the worshipers sing: Some moan or groan; some loudly gnash their teeth; some are silent. Some sway and moan the whole service through.

During the sermon, some interrupt the preacher with their editorializing or rebuttals. Handicapped members assist with preparing the emblems, wafers, and wine, and then help serve. Sometimes this works and sometimes not. During my first Communion here years ago, one person finished the wine before it circled half the room. We smiled, and as we touched the empty, fragrant cup to our lips, we had Communion.

Nouwen admits that at first he needed to learn to be patient with such interruptions. But ministry is two-way: "The handicapped people in their poverty were able to communicate to me God's first love." Thus, the Daybreak experience has shaped his understanding of the Eucharist; his most recent book "With Burning Hearts" (Orbis), explores the "eucharistic life" as a journey through failure and loss to thanksgiving.

As the community's pastor, Nouwen gives spiritual direction and encourages assistants to see their whole lives as opportunity for prayer: they do not just work with the handicapped during the day and pray at night. God speaks at all times and in all places, Nouwen counsels, not just in routine times of prayer. Regular disciplines are crucial, but all our lives can be prayerful. Developing this sort of consciousness, in accordance with Paul's injunction to "pray without ceasing," is a way of making our daily lives into a "window" for how God works.

Indeed, Nouwen's work is a constant, repeated, and emphatic reminder of the call to prayer: "Praying at all times means keeping our eyes always fixed on Jesus the Christ. As Peter began to sink as soon as he moved his eyes from Jesus to the restless waters on which he walked, so will we lose heart as soon as we stop praying. But as long as we keep the eyes of our hearts and minds focused on him, we can walk confidently in this world, bringing peace wherever we go."

Another recurring theme of Nouwen's life is his search for a spiritual home. "When I was five years old, I wanted to be a priest. I don t have any memories of wanting anything else. As a very tiny child, God was important to me. I've never had doubts about that. In those days, young boys were sometimes encouraged to act like priests. I had a little altar, tabernacle, and vestments. That was a way of playing then. It was normal in those days," he told me.

From early on, however, his vocation was tugged by different urges. "One voice said," he remembers, "'Show me that you can make it in this world, be an independent person, and compete with others. Show me that you're going to accomplish something.' This voice encouraged me to work hard, do much, set high goals for myself.

"And another voice ,said, 'Whatever you do in your life, don't lose contact with Jesus. Being known or having a big job is unimportant. It is important that you continue to carry Jesus in your heart and that you don't lose his light.'"

Nouwen, always restless, has often been on the move. He has lived in Bolivia, Peru, the Trappist Abbey of Genesee in New York State, the North American College in Rome, and other religious communities, exploring and testing.

Although a permanent home remained an elusive hope, its promise and symbolism spoke deeply to him: "How often images connected with a new dwelling place are used in the gospels! Jesus not only invites his followers to live with him in the same house, but he himself is the house," he writes in Lifesigns (Doubleday).

Restless longing is also reflected in the sudden changes in vocation that have punctuated Nouwen's adult life. After ordination in 1957, he expected to work in a diocese in the Netherlands. But at his bishop's request he continued school, studying psychology for six years. Next, he spent two years at the Menninger Clinic in Kansas, integrating theology and psychology. Finally, in his thirties, he began to teach psychology at Notre Dame. He loved teaching there. "But deep within me, I soon knew that psychology would never be my main field. I had such a desire to speak about God and to announce the Word. I felt that if I stayed in the university I should do theology." Copies of his lectures evolved into his first book, "Intimacy" (HarperSanFrancisco). Although he had never intended to be a writer, his writing career was launched.

After Notre Dame, he returned to the Netherlands, taught for two years in a theological institute, and pursued further theological studies. Then he was offered a position at Yale. "I was impressed by the opportunity to proclaim the Word in a school like that." He got permission from his bishop to teach for a few years and stayed ten. He eventually became a tenured professor.

Nouwen liked Yale, but it was not where he felt called to be. "I felt I needed something else because my spiritual life was not deep. I'm just a fragile person, and I knew that I wasn't rooted deeply enough in Christ. I wanted something more basic."

Nouwen prayed about this. "Something happened that, while a small thing, was important." He received a surprise visit from a L'Arche director, Jan Risse, who brought greetings from L'Arche founder Jean Vanier. "I expected this greeting to be followed by a request to give a lecture, write an article, or offer a retreat," Nouwen recalls, but the visit had no strings attached. Instead, Risse visited Nouwen for a few days, cooked a beautiful meal for him, and helped him in practical ways.

"Later, I saw how much in the spirit of L'Arche that was, although at the time I was just surprised. She didn't ask me to do anything. It impressed me deeply because it was a radical shift from how people usually related to me. They all want something from me, and that's normal. I remember thinking that this was something of God's response to my prayer." In 1981, Nouwen burned his bridges, resigned from Yale, and went to Latin America. "I'd been there many summers and felt that's where God was calling me. Or at least that it was what I should do." His motives were a mixture of guilt about his affluence and an earnest desire to know God's will. His journal, Gracias! (Orbis), recounts his attempts to find a vocation there. "I was coming up with great schemes of what I could do if I went to Latin America, but gradually discovered that it wasn't God's call," he told me. Later, he visited Nicaragua and embarked on a two month U.S. lecture tour. This exhausted him and raised new questions: "I've never been so tired. My soul was in danger from preaching the gospel: It was akin to preaching to the whole world and losing your own soul. I was very lonely and broken."

Nouwen spent six weeks in the original L'Arche community in Trosly, France, recovering from his lecture tour and re-evaluating his involvements. L'Arche gave him room to be healed. "There was this whole feeling, 'Maybe here you can be held and cared for; we don't want anything of you. We love you and want you to experience God's love.'"

Nouwen returned to the United States to teach at Harvard. There was much that he liked, but it also tore him apart: "Something inside was telling me that my success was putting my own soul in danger." Harvard was not a good experience: "It was one of the hardest places I'd ever been. It's an ambitious school, sometimes even somewhat arrogant. I didn't know how to deepen my heart and my soul, how to stay close to Jesus in the midst of it all."

He sought out the one home he knew, living for a year in Trosly and keeping a journal, which evolved into "The Road to Daybreak" (Doubleday). He was invited to be pastor of Daybreak in Toronto. "It was the first time in my whole life: that I felt called to do anything. The rest I'd done. I'd made a lot of initiatives. This was the first time that I felt that God was calling." He gratefully accepted. The move startled many. This successful writer and Ivy League academic moved backwards from the way society recommends. He wrote that, in going from Harvard to Daybreak, he went from "an institution for the best and brightest" to work with people who are often most despised in society.

Ironically, this one place where he experienced God's call is also the least interested in his expertise as a writer and lecturer: "If [the handicapped people] express love for you, then it comes from God. It's not because you accomplished anything. These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self--the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things--and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I'm completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments."

Nouwen has also never been more aware of his own needs. In finding a physical home, he had not yet resolved a deeper inner issue. Outer restlessness was a symptom of an unwillingness to rely primarily on God. "When you expect from people what only God can give," he confesses, "you cling and ask more from them than they can offer. A friend's love is for you but not to replace God." He experienced both physical and emotional exhaustion. With the support of Daybreak, he took a six-month leave in 1988.

Years later, Nouwen is still surprised--but convinced-that his work at L'Arche is precisely what God has called him to do.

Has Henri Nouwen finally found his home? While he cannot be sure he will remain at L'Arche for the rest of his life, he believes his call to L'Arche is different from when he went to Yale or Harvard. He has no plans to leave. In his house at Daybreak, he has some antique furniture he inherited from his family and also a large collection of religious paintings and sculptures. It feels like a home. This might not be his final address, but Henri Nouwen has moved much closer to his longed-for House of the First Love.

********************

Arthur Boers is the author of "Lord, Teach Us to Pray" (Herald) and "Justice

That Heals" (Faith and Life).

Copyright (c) 1994 Christianity Today, Inc./CHRISTIANITY TODAY magazine

Communion with God (continued) « Leader information shown in this fashion »

A. The Mystic Union or Communion

1. In the hymn, “The Church’s One Foundation” we sing

Yet she on earth hath union

With God the Three in One,

And mystic sweet communion

With those whose rest is won:

O happy ones and holy!

Lord give us grace that we,

Like them, the meek and lowly,

On high may dwell with Thee

2. and last week we considered this subject looking at

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalms 91:1 AV)

3. and at

“For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh. This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church.” (Ephesians 5:31-32 AV)

4. discussing how the word mystic has come to have a meaning in current thought quite alienated from that of the hymn writer, and certainly from that of the Author of Scripture; namely,

a. of rites and doctrines that are only imparted to or understood by the privileged few

b. or of a relationship with God gained by contemplation and love without the medium of human reason

c. which are the underpinning of the New Age and Eastern philosophies

B. One of the tasks that I have undertaken over the past few years, is the editing of articles that are shared amongst pastors and Christian workers via the web. « Though we share such materials, we are not always in agreement with the position of those writing them. They often provide grist for rebuttal. And often, an alternative position provokes one to reexamine what may be mere habit of thinking »

1. recently I have edited a number of articles, which, « though I believe the author to be devoted to our Lord, » are disturbing and dangerous thinking prevalent in some Christian circles:

2. first, an unhealthy overemphasis on the feeling, the emotional, and the experiential aspect of our faith.

a. true, our witness is to be based on experience, but that in turn is based on concrete facts « : consider Pauls arguments of the 15th chapter of 1 Corinthians and the facts he lays out there » — our witness is founded on the knowledge of sins forgiven through the blood of Jesus Christ on the cross

b. this writer uses the argument that the heart (which he understands to be our feelings and devotion) is to take precedence over the mind; but this oversimplifies and, as well, overlooks two things

(A) it is the reins « (kidneys!) » and bowels « (intestines or belly!) » that the Bible employs as the seat of the emotions; the heart is man’s innermost being: the seat of his plans, his intentions, his will, his desires

(B) God calls for our love to Him to be with every part of our being — not just the emotions — Mark 12:30 (AV): “And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.” « (with the last two, mind and strength, interpreting the Mosaic, “with all thy might”) » — what a contrast with the insipid love of shallow emotion advanced as Christian duty in so many quarters!

c. second, the writer emphasizes, and quite rightly so, the ministry of God the Holy Spirit, but, accompanied by an appalling poverty of reference to God the Son « , Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour, and at the same time he almost disparages the written Word of God, talking about the Spirit’s “illuminating” rather than “inspiring” its writers. »

(A) In so doing, he has ignored the first and most important ministry of the Spirit: John 15:26 (AV): “But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me:” — to testify to the Son

(B) as you read through the epistles you discover that an equal emphasis is given to each Person of the Trinity; we should be careful to do the same.

3. and that is the danger of mysticism as it is promulgated today « , that it considers only one facet of our humanity in its relation to God, and, frequently, only one Person of God to the detriment of the Trinity »

C. The proper understanding of our (mystic) communion or union with God, is to be found in terms of relationship

1. relationship that involves the whole nature of man and the Triune Personality of God

2. one analogy of that relationship is in the marriage union

3. but another analogy, which is to be found throughout God’s Word is that of the Father with His children, which reflects many aspects of this relationship between God and the believer which includes among many others

a. the mutual love between father and child

b. the child reflecting the character of the father

c. the benefits conferred upon the child by the father

D. There is a difference between “knowing” and “having”

1. merely “knowing” of what the father-child relationship of God with the believer consists does not mean that a person “has” that relationship, nor should he be lulled into thinking so

2. but, if we stop and consider what that relationship should mean then the Spirit of God can make us hunger for it until we are ready to make it the premier priority in our lives, to overcome that which if we were honest we would confess along with John R. W. Stott: “The thing I know will give me the deepest joy – namely, to be alone and unhurried in the presence of God, aware of His presence, my heart open to worship Him – is often the thing I least want to do.” « — Holwick illustrations #16490 »

3. so, what aspects of the Father–child relationship are appetizers to you in the following verses « (extracted from the list provided last week from “Meet Your New Father” by Rowland Croucher, Holwick illustrations #5067) »

“Ah Lord GOD! behold, thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for thee:” (Jeremiah 32:17 AV)

“Who only hath immortality, dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto; whom no man hath seen, nor can see: to whom be honour and power everlasting. Amen.” 1 Timothy 6:16 AV

“I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love: and I was to them as they that take off the yoke on their jaws, and I laid meat unto them.” Hosea 11:4 AV

“The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17 AV

“Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?” Matthew 7:7-11 AV

“He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.” Isaiah 40:11 AV

“For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. … For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:14–17, 38-39 AV

“Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:” 1 Peter 1:8 AV

On the first of May in the olden times, according to annual custom, many inhabitants of London went into the fields to bathe their faces with the early dew upon the grass under the idea that it would render them beautiful. Some writers call the custom superstitious; it may have been so, but this we know, that to bathe one's face every morning in the dew of heaven by prayer and communion, is the sure way to obtain true beauty of life and character.