I enjoy reading Sojourners, it's stated mission: "to inspire hope and action by articulating the biblical call to racial and social justice, life and peace, and environmental stewardship."
Even though I live in the UK I find much of the magazine just as relevant here as it is across the Atlantic.
Each month editor-in-chief Jim Wallis writes a feature under the heading "Hearts and Minds." Real change in the world requires changes in our hearts and minds, something I have written about quite a bit over the years here and in my books. I therefore particularly appreciated Jim's article in the January 2016 edition which I have just received: Lessons from a Wounded Healer. And the Wounded Healer is of course the late Henri Nouwen, that great Catholic spiritual writer who became such a best seller with his wonderful book of the same name: The Wounded Healer.
As Jim points out, Henri certainly didn't have his life sorted. He had a history of spiritual struggle, which has been used to inspire us all in the rich legacy of his books. A very thoughtful article from Jim concludes that:
Henri Nouwen's life was an example for us all in how to encounter and incorporate both spirituality and social justice into our lives and work.
In fact it was reading a biography of Henri Nouwen while I was on holiday a few years back which inspired me to research the concept of the Wounded Healer in greater depth and to try to consider how we might apply the archetype to all aspects of our daily lives, whether in our economy or our healthcare, our environmental issues or our creativity, our worship or our communities.
It took a very long time to research and write. I may not have got it all right, but it has certainly hit the right spot with many. And at the same time it was a cathartic experience, knowing that like me Henri had struggled with his own mental and spiritual condition - and his books were extremely helpful to me.
In a world of doom and gloom where there seem to be so many intractable problems I believe there is great hope to be found in applying the principles of the empathy and spirituality and humility of the wounded healer into our lives, whoever we are, whatever we do in our work and leisure lives. Thank you Jim Wallis and Sojourners for bringing this to the forefront of our minds again.
Sojourners
Healing This Wounded Earth - inspired by Henri Nouwen and the Wounded Healer
The iconic monolithic rock hewn church of Bet Giyorgis (St George) visited on my recent memorable trip to the wonderful Ethiopia - written about in detail in my other blog Ethiopia - in search of the Ark of the Covenant
"The penalty good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men." attributed to Plato
"Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing." attributed to Edmund Burke
Showing posts with label Henri Nouwen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henri Nouwen. Show all posts
Tuesday, 22 December 2015
Saturday, 21 December 2013
Wounds as a source of healing in pastoral and medical care
I love the idea of the Wounded Healer, the concept that a person's own suffering can be a source of healing for others. I believe this has enormous social significance for us all, in many different ways.
This idea was reflected in the consolatory ministry with its accompanying literature from Ancient Greece onwards. I'll write more about this consolatory ministry later. Suffice to say here that by the seventeenth and eighteenth century in Western Europe the idea was well established in pastoral healing, mostly among the clergy of the time, but also in use by some physicians. Men such as George Fox, who founded the Society of Friends (or Quakers), George Trosse and Timothy Rogers, both Nonconformist English clergy of the seventeenth century and the English Physician George Cheyne, these and more used their own personal stories of suffering in their successful healing ministries. They were all reflecting the power of the wounded healer to heal others.
But it was only with the development of the modern psychological schools of Freud, Adler and Jung, picking up the threads of pre Hippocratic holistic care, that the concept was first articulated, by Carl Gustav Jung (1875 – 1961), as a recognized healing archetype. Research papers and specialist textbooks on the concept of the Wounded Healer are plentiful, but these are mostly within the realms of analytical psychology. Both Jung and Sigmund Freud (1856 – 1939) were at certain periods of their lives deeply disturbed psychologically. By submitting themselves to their own styles of self-analysis, they both came to understand their own sufferings more clearly and were able to appreciate and treat their patients more effectively.
Jung introduced extensive self-analysis as an essential part of the training of a psychotherapist, to be followed up by continuing clinical supervision, because, he said,
"The patient’s treatment begins with the doctor…in any ongoing analysis the whole personality of both patient and doctor is called into play. There are many cases that the doctor cannot cure without committing himself. When important matters are at stake, it makes all the difference whether the doctor sees himself as a part of the drama, or cloaks himself in his authority. In the great crises of life, in the supreme moments when to be or not to be is the question, little tricks of suggestion do not help. Then the whole being of the doctor is challenged…the Doctor is effective only when he himself is affected…‘the wounded physician heals.’ But when the doctor wears his personality like a coat of armour, he has no effect." (1)
Elsewhere Jung wrote:
"Without too much exaggeration a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient…It is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician." (2)
Jung’s followers proceeded to give the term special significance in their work and thinking and it was Jungian analysts who apparently started referring to the Wounded Healer Archetype as a recognized tool in the healing process. Jung’s ideas were specifically developed in the context of the doctor and his patient in psychotherapy, but this wisdom is surely just as relevant today within the context of the general medical practitioner’s relationship with his patient.
It was the Dutch priest and successful spiritual writer Henri Nouwen who did so much to popularize the use of the term Wounded Healer in his own works in the context of pastoral healing. In the introduction to his book The Wounded Healer he wrote; ‘nothing can be written about ministry without a deeper understanding of the ways in which the minister can make his own wounds available as a source of healing.’
Like Carl Jung, Alfred Adler (1870 – 1937), a pioneer Austrian Psychiatrist, was a prominent member of Freud’s psychological group, before they both broke away from Freud to develop their own psychological theories. Jung developed a more analytical psychology, introducing the concept of the introvert and extrovert and the Collective Unconscious, with a description of the various archetypes of man’s basic and inherent psychic nature. Adler on the other hand developed his own ‘individual psychology’ theory, and introduced the concept of the ‘inferiority complex’. ‘The method of Individual Psychology begins and ends with the problem of inferiority,’ he wrote. Adler believed that all human motivation was power induced, for example by the drive to be superior or the drive to control others. Somehow that rings very true in much that we see around us today!
(1) Jung, Carl G., Memories, Dreams Reflections (London: Fontana Press, 1995) pp.154-156.
(2) Jung, Carl G., Fundamental Questions of Psychotherapy, in The Collected Works of C G Jung, 1953-1979), vol. 16: 111-25, on p. 116.
This idea was reflected in the consolatory ministry with its accompanying literature from Ancient Greece onwards. I'll write more about this consolatory ministry later. Suffice to say here that by the seventeenth and eighteenth century in Western Europe the idea was well established in pastoral healing, mostly among the clergy of the time, but also in use by some physicians. Men such as George Fox, who founded the Society of Friends (or Quakers), George Trosse and Timothy Rogers, both Nonconformist English clergy of the seventeenth century and the English Physician George Cheyne, these and more used their own personal stories of suffering in their successful healing ministries. They were all reflecting the power of the wounded healer to heal others.
But it was only with the development of the modern psychological schools of Freud, Adler and Jung, picking up the threads of pre Hippocratic holistic care, that the concept was first articulated, by Carl Gustav Jung (1875 – 1961), as a recognized healing archetype. Research papers and specialist textbooks on the concept of the Wounded Healer are plentiful, but these are mostly within the realms of analytical psychology. Both Jung and Sigmund Freud (1856 – 1939) were at certain periods of their lives deeply disturbed psychologically. By submitting themselves to their own styles of self-analysis, they both came to understand their own sufferings more clearly and were able to appreciate and treat their patients more effectively.
Jung introduced extensive self-analysis as an essential part of the training of a psychotherapist, to be followed up by continuing clinical supervision, because, he said,
"The patient’s treatment begins with the doctor…in any ongoing analysis the whole personality of both patient and doctor is called into play. There are many cases that the doctor cannot cure without committing himself. When important matters are at stake, it makes all the difference whether the doctor sees himself as a part of the drama, or cloaks himself in his authority. In the great crises of life, in the supreme moments when to be or not to be is the question, little tricks of suggestion do not help. Then the whole being of the doctor is challenged…the Doctor is effective only when he himself is affected…‘the wounded physician heals.’ But when the doctor wears his personality like a coat of armour, he has no effect." (1)
Elsewhere Jung wrote:
"Without too much exaggeration a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient…It is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician." (2)
Jung’s followers proceeded to give the term special significance in their work and thinking and it was Jungian analysts who apparently started referring to the Wounded Healer Archetype as a recognized tool in the healing process. Jung’s ideas were specifically developed in the context of the doctor and his patient in psychotherapy, but this wisdom is surely just as relevant today within the context of the general medical practitioner’s relationship with his patient.
It was the Dutch priest and successful spiritual writer Henri Nouwen who did so much to popularize the use of the term Wounded Healer in his own works in the context of pastoral healing. In the introduction to his book The Wounded Healer he wrote; ‘nothing can be written about ministry without a deeper understanding of the ways in which the minister can make his own wounds available as a source of healing.’
Like Carl Jung, Alfred Adler (1870 – 1937), a pioneer Austrian Psychiatrist, was a prominent member of Freud’s psychological group, before they both broke away from Freud to develop their own psychological theories. Jung developed a more analytical psychology, introducing the concept of the introvert and extrovert and the Collective Unconscious, with a description of the various archetypes of man’s basic and inherent psychic nature. Adler on the other hand developed his own ‘individual psychology’ theory, and introduced the concept of the ‘inferiority complex’. ‘The method of Individual Psychology begins and ends with the problem of inferiority,’ he wrote. Adler believed that all human motivation was power induced, for example by the drive to be superior or the drive to control others. Somehow that rings very true in much that we see around us today!
But these psychological theories and the
treatments arising from them were developing apart from rather than in
cooperation with clinical medical practice.
Indeed in many medical circles the
new psychologies were viewed with suspicion and regarded as nothing more than
‘quackery’.
Science was coming to be regarded as the supreme truth: that
nothing could be real unless scientifically proven.
The scientists thought that
there was no room for an intangible global value to exist alongside the
material and capitalist values that were reigning supreme. Indeed in many
academic circles today the writings of Freud and Jung are still regarded with
scorn, on the basis that their theories are too anecdotal and can therefore be
of little value to any furtherance of understanding of the human condition and
the mind/body problem.
But these ideas should not be dismissed so carelessly. Those of Carl Jung in particular seem to me to be very much in line
with some recent developments in the fields of consciousness and
intuition, ideas which are slowly gaining some credibility
and significance in modern medicine, as I shall explain later on...
to be contd......
(1) Jung, Carl G., Memories, Dreams Reflections (London: Fontana Press, 1995) pp.154-156.
(2) Jung, Carl G., Fundamental Questions of Psychotherapy, in The Collected Works of C G Jung, 1953-1979), vol. 16: 111-25, on p. 116.
Tuesday, 19 November 2013
The Wounded Healer: Healing This Wounded Earth
People so often ask me what inspired me to write my book Healing This Wounded Earth, so here goes - adapted from the Preface:
"The idea came to me while on holiday in Turkey in 2004.
I was in the middle of a long process of healing following a devastating mental breakdown and burnout that for a while had turned my life upside down. I was receiving excellent professional help for mind, body, soul and spirit, and to supplement this healing I had turned to the contemplative books by the Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen, including his short bestselling gem, The Wounded Healer.
These books became such a valuable and reliable source of comfort and support in my pain. So I was lying by the swimming pool at that Turkish villa reading Michael Ford’s The Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri J.M.Nouwen. As I thought more about what I was reading it seemed to me that the compassion and vulnerability of the Wounded Healer could have a significance for healing our dangerously fractured world far beyond the realms of the pastoral and medical professions, where it is primarily researched and understood as a means of healing and where most of the literature is to be found. And I had one of those Eureka moments!
Where else, I was thinking, can we find the Wounded Healer in our lives?
How, I thought, could we hope to heal this world when so many of us have our own unhealed spiritual and mental wounds, and so much of our destructive behavior is because of those wounds; when for so many of us it is not regarded as appropriate in our working lives to show too much compassion, let alone vulnerability.
I really never gave a thought to just how big this project was going to be as I started on my research and this took me deeper and wider into so very many other fields. It was all so fascinating. Meanwhile the wounds of the world become ever more serious and the healing needs more urgent. It took me five years of research, and numerous abandoned drafts along the way, before the final carefully crafted version went to the publishers.
In this book I address all those who over the years have bemoaned the state of the world and asked ‘But what can I do?’
Any bias towards Anglican Christianity is simply a reflection of my own faith but the book is written for all those who are ‘of good faith,’ those of any faith or none who have the honesty of intention to work alone or together to help heal the world.
This week in the UK is Interfaith Week, and never have spirituality and faith and the ancient wisdoms of all the great religions been more relevant than in today’s fractured world (I tackle this subject in more detail in Why Religions Work).
We need to appreciate these in a spirit of mutual respect and understanding. More than that, I believe there is an urgent need to integrate ancient spiritual wisdom and philosophy with modern scientific endeavors and rediscover the spiritual in all our material experiences. This is our responsibility and we have no choice if we are to halt the destruction all around us. This is a matter of faith for many and an obligation for all humankind.
I hope you enjoy the book!
By the way, I am now working on my latest book, on A Spiritual Journey through Depression, and on the experiences of our pilgrimage through Eastern Turkey this year, the subject of my current blog over at Why Religion: The Wisdom of Tolerance.
Enjoy!
![]() |
| Aktamar Island Lake Van Eastern Turkey |
These books became such a valuable and reliable source of comfort and support in my pain. So I was lying by the swimming pool at that Turkish villa reading Michael Ford’s The Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri J.M.Nouwen. As I thought more about what I was reading it seemed to me that the compassion and vulnerability of the Wounded Healer could have a significance for healing our dangerously fractured world far beyond the realms of the pastoral and medical professions, where it is primarily researched and understood as a means of healing and where most of the literature is to be found. And I had one of those Eureka moments!
Where else, I was thinking, can we find the Wounded Healer in our lives?
How, I thought, could we hope to heal this world when so many of us have our own unhealed spiritual and mental wounds, and so much of our destructive behavior is because of those wounds; when for so many of us it is not regarded as appropriate in our working lives to show too much compassion, let alone vulnerability.
I really never gave a thought to just how big this project was going to be as I started on my research and this took me deeper and wider into so very many other fields. It was all so fascinating. Meanwhile the wounds of the world become ever more serious and the healing needs more urgent. It took me five years of research, and numerous abandoned drafts along the way, before the final carefully crafted version went to the publishers.
In this book I address all those who over the years have bemoaned the state of the world and asked ‘But what can I do?’
Any bias towards Anglican Christianity is simply a reflection of my own faith but the book is written for all those who are ‘of good faith,’ those of any faith or none who have the honesty of intention to work alone or together to help heal the world.
This week in the UK is Interfaith Week, and never have spirituality and faith and the ancient wisdoms of all the great religions been more relevant than in today’s fractured world (I tackle this subject in more detail in Why Religions Work).
We need to appreciate these in a spirit of mutual respect and understanding. More than that, I believe there is an urgent need to integrate ancient spiritual wisdom and philosophy with modern scientific endeavors and rediscover the spiritual in all our material experiences. This is our responsibility and we have no choice if we are to halt the destruction all around us. This is a matter of faith for many and an obligation for all humankind.
I hope you enjoy the book!
![]() |
| Beautiful Turkey - view across Lake Van from Aktamar Island |
By the way, I am now working on my latest book, on A Spiritual Journey through Depression, and on the experiences of our pilgrimage through Eastern Turkey this year, the subject of my current blog over at Why Religion: The Wisdom of Tolerance.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
The Healing Power of Art
How much art can you take?
Rachel Campbell-Johnston asked this in The Times 2 yesterday under the heading: “Poussin, I’ve had my fill thanks.”
The art historian T J Clark, she tells us, spent six months in front of two Poussin paintings and recorded his experiences in The Sight of Death.
This reminded me of the spiritual best selling writer and Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen who had his own reasons for spending many hours and days and months in front of a painting, in his case Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. Nouwen also wrote a book about his experiences but from a healing and spiritual perspective rather than from the artistic perspective of Clark.
In his book Henri Nouwen described the effect on him of viewing for the first time a poster of Rembrandt’s painting. He had recently returned to France to spend time as a pastor for people with development or learning disabilities at L’Arche (1) community in Trosly-Breuil. Nouwen had spent a grueling lecture tour in the USA, which had left him exhausted physically and emotionally. The sight of this poster, he says, made his heart leap, and ‘set in motion a long spiritual adventure that brought me to a new understanding of my vocation and new strength to live it.’(2) Nouwen was later given the opportunity to study the original painting in depth, where it hangs in the Hermitage in St Petersburg. He described how moved he was by the depth of compassion in the father’s hands on the shoulders of the repentant son kneeling before him in worn out cloak and sandals. Over the months and years that followed, ‘Rembrandt’s embrace remained imprinted on my soul far more profoundly than any temporary expression of emotional support,’ he writes. ‘It had brought me into touch with something within me that lies far beyond the ups and downs of a busy life, something that represents the ongoing yearning of the human spirit, the yearning for a final return, an unambiguous sense of safety, a lasting home.’(3) Nouwen had experienced the capacity of art to heal.
It is interesting that Rembrandt was close to his death when he completed this painting in 1669, after a life of some success and wealth but also personal tragedies and grief. By this time he was a poor and lonely man. Nouwen senses in the painting an expression of the deep understanding that Rembrandt held of his own spiritual homecoming. Nouwen struggled throughout his own life with much mental anguish, with anxiety and with insecurity, but his pastoral abilities were undoubted. He gave spiritual support to many through his priestly ministry and through his books, many of which, including this book on Rembrandt’s painting, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, are still bestsellers today. Something beautiful and life affirming was speaking to Nouwen from the picture and his ability to convey that on to his reader is very powerful indeed.
Two quotes spring to mind:
"Through Art we can see deep truths that are otherwise invisible. In great works of art we feel the deepest yearnings of our Heart and glimpse the shimmering revelations of our Spirit."
Dana Lynne Andersen (4)
"Creating a work of art is not a harmless thing. It always is a powerful medium. Art is extraordinarily powerful and important. It challenges people’s lives."
Chögyam Trungpa (5)
There is indeed nothing neutral about creative force. We can use it as a source of inspiration and healing for ourselves and for those around us. Or it has the power to hurt or corrupt, to disturb or destroy. We cannot escape its impact; creativity is an integral part of our lives. We surely have a responsibility to be mindful of this as we go about our daily lives.
1. L’Arche International Communities ,L’Arche USA and L’Arche UK
2. Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1994, Darton, Longman and Todd, p. 3.
3. Ibid., p. 5.
4. Dana Lynne Andersen, Californian spiritual artist who founded Awakening Arts Network, a global resource nexus connecting artists throughout the world who are engaged in creating art that is ‘evolutionary’ and ‘transformative’.
5. Trungpa, C., 1996, Dharma Art, Shambala Publications, Boston, Mass. In Wild Heart Journal
Rachel Campbell-Johnston asked this in The Times 2 yesterday under the heading: “Poussin, I’ve had my fill thanks.”
The art historian T J Clark, she tells us, spent six months in front of two Poussin paintings and recorded his experiences in The Sight of Death.
This reminded me of the spiritual best selling writer and Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen who had his own reasons for spending many hours and days and months in front of a painting, in his case Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. Nouwen also wrote a book about his experiences but from a healing and spiritual perspective rather than from the artistic perspective of Clark.
In his book Henri Nouwen described the effect on him of viewing for the first time a poster of Rembrandt’s painting. He had recently returned to France to spend time as a pastor for people with development or learning disabilities at L’Arche (1) community in Trosly-Breuil. Nouwen had spent a grueling lecture tour in the USA, which had left him exhausted physically and emotionally. The sight of this poster, he says, made his heart leap, and ‘set in motion a long spiritual adventure that brought me to a new understanding of my vocation and new strength to live it.’(2) Nouwen was later given the opportunity to study the original painting in depth, where it hangs in the Hermitage in St Petersburg. He described how moved he was by the depth of compassion in the father’s hands on the shoulders of the repentant son kneeling before him in worn out cloak and sandals. Over the months and years that followed, ‘Rembrandt’s embrace remained imprinted on my soul far more profoundly than any temporary expression of emotional support,’ he writes. ‘It had brought me into touch with something within me that lies far beyond the ups and downs of a busy life, something that represents the ongoing yearning of the human spirit, the yearning for a final return, an unambiguous sense of safety, a lasting home.’(3) Nouwen had experienced the capacity of art to heal.
It is interesting that Rembrandt was close to his death when he completed this painting in 1669, after a life of some success and wealth but also personal tragedies and grief. By this time he was a poor and lonely man. Nouwen senses in the painting an expression of the deep understanding that Rembrandt held of his own spiritual homecoming. Nouwen struggled throughout his own life with much mental anguish, with anxiety and with insecurity, but his pastoral abilities were undoubted. He gave spiritual support to many through his priestly ministry and through his books, many of which, including this book on Rembrandt’s painting, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, are still bestsellers today. Something beautiful and life affirming was speaking to Nouwen from the picture and his ability to convey that on to his reader is very powerful indeed.
Two quotes spring to mind:
"Through Art we can see deep truths that are otherwise invisible. In great works of art we feel the deepest yearnings of our Heart and glimpse the shimmering revelations of our Spirit."
Dana Lynne Andersen (4)
"Creating a work of art is not a harmless thing. It always is a powerful medium. Art is extraordinarily powerful and important. It challenges people’s lives."Chögyam Trungpa (5)
There is indeed nothing neutral about creative force. We can use it as a source of inspiration and healing for ourselves and for those around us. Or it has the power to hurt or corrupt, to disturb or destroy. We cannot escape its impact; creativity is an integral part of our lives. We surely have a responsibility to be mindful of this as we go about our daily lives.
1. L’Arche International Communities ,L’Arche USA and L’Arche UK
2. Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1994, Darton, Longman and Todd, p. 3.
3. Ibid., p. 5.
4. Dana Lynne Andersen, Californian spiritual artist who founded Awakening Arts Network, a global resource nexus connecting artists throughout the world who are engaged in creating art that is ‘evolutionary’ and ‘transformative’.
5. Trungpa, C., 1996, Dharma Art, Shambala Publications, Boston, Mass. In Wild Heart Journal
Friday, 27 May 2011
New Freedom Fighters - Wounded Healers to Heal the World
Every now and then - in fact I am glad to say rather more frequently these days - I come across someone else's work that makes me say YEESS! At last the message is getting through - my idea is becoming part of the Zeitgeist, the Spirit of the Moment. And today is one of those days, when I stumbled upon a brilliant talk by Rick Axtell Associate Professor of Religion and College Chaplain at Centre, a Top 50 liberal arts college located in the “centre” of Kentucky in Danville. He was addressing the graduate class of 2011, on May 22nd this year, with a talk on Wounded Healers.
Do read the full transcript. Axtell starts with the story of the courageous Freedom Fighters, fighting for racial equality in America 50 years ago, an event being celebrated this month. He tells the biblical story of Jacob and his ladder, an archetypal story of the human journey, and he talks of the Wounded Healer of Dutch Roman Catholic Priest Henri Nouwen. And he ends with a plea to all the graduates to go out into the world as Wounded Healers to build a better future. Here is a story from a Fr. Daniel Berrigan given in the talk:
"There once was a child who used to play only in the front yard, where everyone was like himself. One day,…he was sent…into the back yard. Back yard? He hadn't known there was one. A revelation! Tanners, shoemakers, alleys, gutters, children, washwomen, markets, flower carts, beggars. The child sat on the back stoop, half frightened, totally fascinated...
His exile ended, as such things will. He was called back indoors, and on into the front yard.
He went in with a strange new look on his face. He knew something for the first time.
It had come to him with the unpredictability of lightning, with the logic of nature, of water and sun, of the opening of a door.
He knew now, THAT A FRONT YARD EXISTED BECAUSE A BACK YARD EXISTED -- front will have back, rich will have poor, master will have slave, pride will have fall, blood will have blood."
Rick continues: "Here is the wound that leads to life. Fr. Henri Nouwen writes in his book, The Wounded Healer, that the outward journey toward healing of others requires an inward journey that recognizes the sufferings of our time in our own unsatisfied cravings, in our own alienation, in our shared human condition.
This is the starting point on the journey into service.
And only when it comes from a heart wounded by the suffering we seek to heal will service be authentic."
Do read the full transcript. Axtell starts with the story of the courageous Freedom Fighters, fighting for racial equality in America 50 years ago, an event being celebrated this month. He tells the biblical story of Jacob and his ladder, an archetypal story of the human journey, and he talks of the Wounded Healer of Dutch Roman Catholic Priest Henri Nouwen. And he ends with a plea to all the graduates to go out into the world as Wounded Healers to build a better future. Here is a story from a Fr. Daniel Berrigan given in the talk:
"There once was a child who used to play only in the front yard, where everyone was like himself. One day,…he was sent…into the back yard. Back yard? He hadn't known there was one. A revelation! Tanners, shoemakers, alleys, gutters, children, washwomen, markets, flower carts, beggars. The child sat on the back stoop, half frightened, totally fascinated...
His exile ended, as such things will. He was called back indoors, and on into the front yard.
He went in with a strange new look on his face. He knew something for the first time.
It had come to him with the unpredictability of lightning, with the logic of nature, of water and sun, of the opening of a door.
He knew now, THAT A FRONT YARD EXISTED BECAUSE A BACK YARD EXISTED -- front will have back, rich will have poor, master will have slave, pride will have fall, blood will have blood."
Rick continues: "Here is the wound that leads to life. Fr. Henri Nouwen writes in his book, The Wounded Healer, that the outward journey toward healing of others requires an inward journey that recognizes the sufferings of our time in our own unsatisfied cravings, in our own alienation, in our shared human condition.
This is the starting point on the journey into service.
And only when it comes from a heart wounded by the suffering we seek to heal will service be authentic."
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
More on the Wounded Healer
It was the Jungian psychoanalysts who probably first started referring to the Wounded Healer archetype as a recognized tool in the healing process. But it was the Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen who really popularized the term within a wider spiritual and pastoral healing context when he wrote his own bestselling book The Wounded Healer in 1979. In it he identifies the loneliness that he himself so keenly felt as the most painful of our human wounds, leaving us craving for love and attention. Loneliness, he tells us, is recognized in words such as alienation, separation and isolation. (1) But Malcolm Langford identifies four other basic types of wound: those resulting from the evil of our own life experiences and of others with whom we are involved, those from our own broken personalities and motivations, from our personal prejudices and fears and those which reflect our emotional and spiritual poverty in such a materially wealthy world. (2) We can all relate to some if not all of these examples of woundedness. And there is plenty of need for healing in the world!Ian McEwan reflected on the Twin Towers collapse on 9/11:
If the hijackers had been able to imagine themselves into the thoughts and feelings of the passengers, they would have been unable to proceed. It is hard to be cruel once you permit yourself to enter the mind of your victim. Imagining what it is like to be someone other than yourself is at the core of our humanity [my italics]. It is the essence of compassion, and it is the beginning of morality…The hijackers used fanatical certainty, misplaced religious faith, and dehumanizing hatred to purge themselves of the human instinct for empathy. Among their crimes was a failure of the imagination. (3)And as the Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains, when bad things do happen to us, we can use these experiences to sensitize us to the pain of others. Rather than allowing such wounds to make us victims of circumstance, let them turn us into potentially life changing agents of hope. (4)
1. Nouwen, Henri J. M. The Wounded Healer, London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1994, p. 83
2. Malcolm Langford, draws much of his inspiration from Henri Nouwen. Langford, Malcolm, Waking the Wounded: Facing our own Poverty. This was on World Vision site at
http://www.worldvision.com.au/getinvolved/faithinaction/files/grid2000_wakingthewounded.pdf sourced 17 February 2009.
3. McEwan, Ian, The Guardian 15 September 2001, ‘Only love and then oblivion. Love was all they had to set against their murderers.’ http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2001/sep/15/september11.politicsphilosophyandsociety2 sourced 19 February 2009.
4. Jonathan Sacks, The Times, 5 January 2008, Count your Blessings and Begin to Change your Life.
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Lent, Consolatory ministry and the Wounded Healer
Well my experiment with the cellphone in the bathroom (last post) didn't do anything for me so I am back to the serious today!
We have just had our first Lent group - a house group of 12 people meeting once a week to discuss a theme. This week the subject was Isaiah chapter 40 - Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, says the Lord.
What is comfort? What comfort does God offer us in times of need? Someone mentioned the additional gift of comfort afforded to those who themselves have seen grief, hurt or other affliction and come through it to be able to help others - of course the Wounded Healer.
This reminded me of the consolatory ministry and the healing prose seen in the consolatory literature of the ancient Greeks. Perhaps the earliest example of this was On Grief, written by the Greek academic and philosopher Crantor in the mid fourth century BC. This type of consolation was offered on the occasion of any human misfortune, but seems to have been used particularly to console or heal following the death of a loved one, often a child. The consolatory ministry was built around the belief that by writing about one’s own suffering the author is not only helping himself through his own difficulties but can be in a better position to help others in a similar situation. The soul or spirit was often implicated in this healing process. It reflected the healing vulnerability of the Wounded Healer.
There were many examples of this genre of literature, which developed well into the European Renaissance period of the fourteenth to seventeenth centuries. By then people were recognixing that sorrow, misery, and misfortune could be matters for sympathy - up until then they were too often seen as stemming from sinfulness. Francesco Petrarca, or Petrarch, who lived in the fourteenth century, was well known for his self- care and self -analysis. ‘No one’s solace,’ he wrote, ‘penetrates a saddened mind more than that of a fellow sufferer, and therefore the most effective words to strengthen the spirits of the bystanders are those which emerge from the actual torments.’ He quoted from Virgil: ‘Being acquainted with grief, I learn to succor the wretched (Aen. 2.630).’
The consolatory genre surely survives to the present day in the spiritual works of Henri Nouwen and perhaps Michael Mayne, for example. It was only when I read Michael Mayne’s Learning to Dance that I discovered that he had been deeply wounded as a child, when at the age of three his father, with no warning, committed suicide and left his wife and son homeless and very poor. This, Mayne said, left ‘an immense emptiness’ in his life. He was writing a meditation on his life of faith when he learnt that he had cancer. As he struggled with his terminal and painful illness, he completed Enduring Melody, which became his own beautifully written and moving epitaph. In an addition to Mayne’s obituary in the Times in November 2006, Canon Chris Chivers wrote of Mayne: ‘The letter he wrote to me…was full of down-to-earth wisdom, mixed with deep prayerfulness, and an all-too-rare ability to put himself in the shoes and soul of another. This will surely be the enduring melody of his richly sacrificial ministry.’ Mayne’s meditational books are steeped in wonderful imagery that helps us understand more clearly the ineffable, the God immanent but unknowable. In his vocation as priest he was clearly the very essence of the Wounded Healer to those who received his ministry. Isaiah 40 raises issues far beyond this and I hope to cover some more in later posts. Do "misery memoirs" come within this consolatory genre I wonder?
We have just had our first Lent group - a house group of 12 people meeting once a week to discuss a theme. This week the subject was Isaiah chapter 40 - Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, says the Lord.
What is comfort? What comfort does God offer us in times of need? Someone mentioned the additional gift of comfort afforded to those who themselves have seen grief, hurt or other affliction and come through it to be able to help others - of course the Wounded Healer.
This reminded me of the consolatory ministry and the healing prose seen in the consolatory literature of the ancient Greeks. Perhaps the earliest example of this was On Grief, written by the Greek academic and philosopher Crantor in the mid fourth century BC. This type of consolation was offered on the occasion of any human misfortune, but seems to have been used particularly to console or heal following the death of a loved one, often a child. The consolatory ministry was built around the belief that by writing about one’s own suffering the author is not only helping himself through his own difficulties but can be in a better position to help others in a similar situation. The soul or spirit was often implicated in this healing process. It reflected the healing vulnerability of the Wounded Healer.
There were many examples of this genre of literature, which developed well into the European Renaissance period of the fourteenth to seventeenth centuries. By then people were recognixing that sorrow, misery, and misfortune could be matters for sympathy - up until then they were too often seen as stemming from sinfulness. Francesco Petrarca, or Petrarch, who lived in the fourteenth century, was well known for his self- care and self -analysis. ‘No one’s solace,’ he wrote, ‘penetrates a saddened mind more than that of a fellow sufferer, and therefore the most effective words to strengthen the spirits of the bystanders are those which emerge from the actual torments.’ He quoted from Virgil: ‘Being acquainted with grief, I learn to succor the wretched (Aen. 2.630).’
The consolatory genre surely survives to the present day in the spiritual works of Henri Nouwen and perhaps Michael Mayne, for example. It was only when I read Michael Mayne’s Learning to Dance that I discovered that he had been deeply wounded as a child, when at the age of three his father, with no warning, committed suicide and left his wife and son homeless and very poor. This, Mayne said, left ‘an immense emptiness’ in his life. He was writing a meditation on his life of faith when he learnt that he had cancer. As he struggled with his terminal and painful illness, he completed Enduring Melody, which became his own beautifully written and moving epitaph. In an addition to Mayne’s obituary in the Times in November 2006, Canon Chris Chivers wrote of Mayne: ‘The letter he wrote to me…was full of down-to-earth wisdom, mixed with deep prayerfulness, and an all-too-rare ability to put himself in the shoes and soul of another. This will surely be the enduring melody of his richly sacrificial ministry.’ Mayne’s meditational books are steeped in wonderful imagery that helps us understand more clearly the ineffable, the God immanent but unknowable. In his vocation as priest he was clearly the very essence of the Wounded Healer to those who received his ministry.
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Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Oprah Winfrey and the Wounded Healer
Chiron the centaur and the Wounded Healer of Greek mythology, Jesus Christ the suffering servant as described in Isaiah, Henri Nouwen the wounded Roman Catholic priest and author of that lovely book The Wounded Healer, the shaman, all these and many more are generally understood to reflect the archetypal Wounded Healer. But Oprah Winfrey a Wounded Healer? Yes, says Dr Toni Galardi, author of The LifeQuake Phenomenon. She draws direct comparisons between Oprah's wounding upbringing and the Chiron story - and suggests that Oprah could use this side of her persona, as wounded healer, rather more in her media appearances. I have been exploring the part that the Wounded Healer can play in our lives, and in particular in the context of healing our fractured earth, whilst tapping into the new earth consciousness that some of us are experiencing all around us. But I confess I had not thought of including Oprah in my ramblings. I shall look at her now in a different light.

And is it true? And is it true
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained glass window's hue,
A baby in an ox's stall?
The maker of the stars and sea
Became a Child on earth for me?
John Betjeman


And is it true? And is it true
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained glass window's hue,
A baby in an ox's stall?
The maker of the stars and sea
Became a Child on earth for me?
John Betjeman

The photos were taken in our church this morning, showing the crib set up under the high altar, and a poster of Jesus as the Light of the World made by the children
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