Jean Vanier (1928–2019)

Summary: Essays by the two authors reflecting on the practice of gentleness in the L'Arche communities where assistants and the disabled live in community, and the theological and political significance of this witness in a violent world.

Stanley Hauerwas has been named "America's best theologian" by Time magazine, known for his advocacy that the church embody its social ethic, that it be itself, in its communal life, and for his critique of liberal democracy, capitalism, and militarism, and show more the church's often unthinking endorsement and adoption of these ideologies. Jean Vanier, deceased in 2019, was the founder of L'Arche, a network of communities where helpers and the disabled live and share life together in "houses" or communities. Until 2006, they had never met, although Hauerwas had commended the work of L'Arche. They were invited to a conference by the Center for Spirituality, Health, and Disability at the University of Aberdeen, where they spent two days conversing and speaking. This book, recently reissued in an expanded edition with study guide, reflects those conversations.

Other than introductory and concluding essays by John Swinton, this book consists of four alternating essays by Vanier and Hauerwas. The first, by Vanier is a narrative of the beginnings and development of L'Arche. Drawn by the work of Father Thomas Philippe with the disabled in France, he moved there, began to live with two disabled men who had been institutionalized, and soon found himself leading the community. He describes L'Arche as fragile, subject to government regulations and the question of whether people will always choose to live with them. He also describes L'Arche as a place of transformation, both for assistants and the disabled, transformations that reflect the mystery of the Spirit's work. He describes three crucial activities in their community, all requiring gentleness and patience: meals together, prayer and communion, and celebration of everything from birthdays and holidays to deaths of members. The message in all of this is, "You are a gift. You're a gift to the community."

Hauerwas responds by discussing how L'Arche is a "modest proposal" in a violent world that is a witness to the church of its call to gentleness and non-violence. It is a witness of care for those who cannot be cured, of patience in a particular place. For this reason, Hauerwas also believes that L'Arche needs the church as a reminder that they need to worship with the larger body that is not L'Arche. It is not only as a witness to the church, amplified through the church, but also support and sustenance from the church that makes its life possible.

Vanier then writes of L'Arche as a place that in a small way addresses the woundedness of the world by recognizing in weakness and wounds a way to God. He speaks of the connection of fear and violence, and the power of surrendering our fears to love--the love of God and the present love of the community, both the abled and the disabled. Grieving the sentiment that would abort all those with Down syndrome and the message that leaves the disabled feeling, "I am no good" Vanier writes:

"The heart of L'Arche is to say to people, 'I am glad you exist.' And the proof that we are glad that they exist is that we stay with them for a long time. We are together, we can have fun together. 'I am glad you exist' is translated into physical presence" (p. 69).

Hauerwas's concluding essay explores the politics of gentleness in an extended engagement with the thought of John Rawls and Martha Nussbaum, both who labored to articulate a rationale for the rights of the disabled to help. He summarizes how L'Arche went beyond this:

"Nussbaum wants to give Jean justifications for helping the disabled. What she can't do is give him a reason to live with them. But that is exactly what Jean says he needed. He had to be taught how to be gentle. It is not easy to learn to be gentle with the mentally disabled. As Jean has already said, they also suffer from the wound of loneliness. They can ask for too much. Which means gentleness requires the slow and patient work necessary to create trust. Crucial for the development of trust is that assistants in L'Arche discover the darkness, brokenness, and selfishness shaped by their own loneliness.... According to Jean, through the struggle to discover we are wounded like the mentally disabled, we discover how much 'we need Jesus and his Paraclete..." (p. 90).

There is a gentleness that flows out of this awareness before God of our mutual weakness, exemplified in the practice of mutually washing one another's feet, transformative to assistants and disabled alike, that is a witness in a violent world.

This slim volume is an extraordinary testament, a witness as it were, to the power of gentleness that flows from weakness, both in its description of the quiet wonder taking place within L'Arche, and the record of the conversation between Vanier and Hauerwas, as they opened minds and hearts to each other to explore the significance of the "modest proposal" that is L'Arche in an impatient and violent world. show less

In Made for Happiness, Jean Vanier examines the basis for modern moral philosophy and its role in our lives today. Having discovered through his work with the intellectually disabled the degree to which our society is divided, and our values misplaced, Vanier invites us to read with fresh eyes theories of happiness written 2,400 years ago.

The book follows the links between psychology, spirituality, and morality: psychology helps us face our fears and limitations; spirituality gives us show more strength; and morality helps us to choose the best actions, those that will make us happier, and thus more human. The combination of these paths to knowledge and wisdom gives meaning to our lives and allows us to make the best use of our freedom on our way to happiness.

Lucidly written, Made for Happiness links classical thought to contemporary challenges, and nourishes the heart and mind.

This new edition includes an introduction by Ian Brown.

MY THOUGHTS:

I received this edition in exchange for my honest review. Can we say gorgeous cover or what? I absolutely love it and it will look great among the classics on my shelf.

This is one man’s interpretation of a great philosopher’s work on how to be happy during Aristotle’s time. It’s an easy piece to read, a bit dry, but well worth the effort. Vanier was an outcast or “excluded” member of society.

He explains how Aristotle’s teacher was Plato and how Aristotle didn’t agree with Plato’s theoretical spirituality teachings. I absolutely love how Aristotle feels that being human means becoming as perfectly accomplished as humanly possible in all aspects of life–academically, politically, scientifically, and personally. Achieving happiness is by committing humane acts–by being good in all ways. We all have the potential to be good, but we must rise above those things that have the potential for bringing out the bad in us.

He talks about being a leader, not a follower, not to settle for what others think and do but to question, disagree, disgust and make choices that benefit you personally to enhance your own personal growth in good, humane fashion.

Vanier points out some of Aristotle’s short-comings: snobbery, racism, sexism, etc. It’s an interesting breakdown. You may find that Aristotle’s philosophies make a lot of sense, and some of Vanier’s interpretations are questionable and interesting. There’s the flip side too, where some of Aristotle’s thoughts/feelings will make your head shake. The book gives you interesting insights as to where issues of snobbery, racism, sexism and others came from and how far back in history these horrible concepts were founded.

This book is thought provoking, easy to read (thank goodness), and very much so recommended by me. It’s a great collector’s book too with such a beautiful cover, not too thick and in paperback format. Overall, whether you agree with Vanier’s interpretations, and Aristotle’s insights, you will find this read very interesting. show less

Jean Vanier wrote this book to reflect on what creating communities for people with intellectual disabilities taught him about being human. My goodness, did he learn a lot. This is a small book packed with a lot of insight. I've got dog-eared pages and underlines all over it.

He is a priest, so there is a distinct religious flavour to his perspective. I appreciate his efforts towards being ecumenical (plenty of acknowledgement of the positive contributions of other religious traditions and show more not a hint of any requirement for any person to be Christian to be good or earn salvation), but of course, he is Christian, and it shows.

His perspective is deeply intersectional, concerned with the equality in worth and value of all people and all groups of people. Considering he wrote the book 20 years ago, and from a tradition not notably concerned with questions of identity, power, conflict, oppression, etc., that's pretty impressive (to me, at any rate). His perspective on forgiveness is also refreshing, particularly considering that our culture (and certain strains of Christianity) consider forgiveness, these days, to be a moral requirement--almost as if it is more important from an ethical perspective for the victimized to forgive than it is for the perpetrator not to hurt. There is none of that here.

If there is one flaw in the book, it is in some of his discussion of the role of the people he served in the epiphanies that led to this philosophy. It's wonderful if, in interacting with people you consider the Other, you learn important truths about yourself and humanity, but that doesn't mean that's why those people are there. People with intellectual disabilities do not exist to give the rest of us epiphanies and insights. They exist to live their lives, just like everyone else. The extent to which a person with disabilities is considered to be "inspiring" just by going about their daily business is usually an indication of the extent to which people with disabilities are considered to be people with lives not worth living. In a society that assumes people with disabilities are people first with the same capacity for joy, pain, work, recreation, pleasure, giving and receiving as anyone else, people with disabilities wouldn't be inspiring, and we wouldn't have epiphanies and insights from interacting with them.

So to the extent that Vanier learned important insights and had epiphanies from his work with people with intellectual disabilities, it is a measure of his flaws before he began the work, not his extreme virtue or wisdom.

Stella Young put it a lot better than I could, so if you haven't seen her TED talk, go watch it.

https://www.ted.com/talks/stella_young_i_m_not_your_inspiration_thank_you_very_m...

Also, there is at times a quite typical belief that anger and hate are always and forever Bad Feelings, and if you have them, there is something that needs to be fixed. This is nonsense; no feeling that serves no purpose or is only destructive would have evolved, so there must be times when both anger and hate serve a purpose and are healthy.

That said, he has a number of wonderful things to say about people and about human nature that make the book well worth reading. I would be a better person and ours would be a better world if it were (with minor caveats) put into practice. show less

With lyrical language, smoothly intriguing interpretations, fine research, and an almost poetic structure that demands and rewards thoughtful reading, Jean Vanier's Drawn Into the Mystery of Jesus follows the gospel of John and invites readers to follow and meet John's heavenly Lord.

"God does not say 'If you change I will love you,'" says the author, relating Jesus’ calling of his disciples. God loves us first, and then we change, relieved of guilt and freed to become more like we were show more made to be.

As chapters follow Christ's passion and death we are reminded of our calling to "become one," united by love. "A man who was condemned to death by the Romans... would finally humble... all the empires of the earth," and give us peace.

This book is a beautiful contemplative, lyrical and informative look at what that means today, and a wonderful read.

Disclosure: My mother was given this book and loaned it to me. show less