I recently led a summer retreat titled “The Spirituality of Henri Nouwen.” Henri has long been one of my favourite authors to read, and it’s not too much of a stretch to say that I see him as a spiritual guide of some sort.  During this retreat, someone asked the simple question, “So, why Henri?”  In other words, why was Henri Nouwen the person that I gravitated to? Since then, this question has bounced around within me.

For those of you who might find this interesting, what follows is a brief look at my journey of theological and spiritual teachers.

I first began with a robust desire to read Charles Spurgeon.  I was hooked by the passionate, scripture-filled sermons of this non-conformist Baptist. I eagerly devoured all I could, working my way through his many sermons, devotional texts, and autobiographies. What moved me with Spurgeon was his passionate commitment to preaching the gospel. Simply put, Spurgeon believed that preaching mattered. Sermons were holy moments though which people were invited to meet the living God. And with that resolve, he was relentless. So moved was I by his witness that I suck one of his quotes on the pulpit of my church. It read: “If we are to see the church of God really restored to her pristine glory, we must have back this plain, simple, gospel-preaching.”

Yet despite my love for Spurgeon, his dismissal of all things liturgical was, at times, irksome. So too was his Calvinism. And so, gradually, my enthusiasm for Spurgeon began to wain, and I moved on to other authors.

My next guides were rooted in the Spiritual Formation movement. Richard Foster and Dallas Willard were the people I turned to most.  In them I found a reawakening of the gospel call to inhabit Kingdom life. Our life in Christ is not about filling our minds with correct doctrinal attributions.  We are called to live out our faith, to live with Jesus. We do this through the disciplines of the Christian life. These historic practices, which are at time easy to forget, sustain our faith.

Through Foster and Willard, I began reclaiming of the central idea that the Kingdom of God is all around me, and not something we await for in the great by-and-by. This helped me root my faith in the everyday occurrences of my life and my ministry. But, Dallas can be densely philosophical. Richard, on the other hand, can be thought to mean things he never intended. This made both authors less approachable. But the big reasons these authors faded into the background of my bookshelf is because, through them I met a handful of others important writers in Christian history.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of those people. Dietrich, like Charles, is bold and passionate, and resolutely about Jesus. His book Life Together is one of my favourites; I try to read it once a year. However, his other works are a bit of a slog. Many are dense and often carry sociological undercurrents to them. Unless you know the background of his writing, and the theology he is arguing against, Dietrich’s meaning can sometimes be hard to uncover, or hard to ascertain what the real-world application might be. Because of this, Dietrich’s writings have sometimes been coopted by political parties advocating for a message Dietrich would have outright opposed.

And that brings me to Henri Nouwen. At first, I didn’t like him. I thought he was just a flash in the pan. Yet the more I read him I found a wisdom that spoke to my inner depths. Like Bonhoeffer, Henri’s devotion to Jesus is refreshing. Continuously, he returns to the basic message of Jesus’ unconditional love expressed on the cross. Yet the love of Jesus, realized in the deepest places within us, doesn’t mean that we don’t struggle. This is one of his enduring qualities. Nouwen’s vulnerability and honesty make him accessible to all.  Henri, more than any others, helped describe to me what authentic Christian life looked like in the messy world we often inhabit.

So there we have it. Who knows who I will gravitate too next. But right now, Nouwen’s prolific writings and thoughts continue to help me explore the various nuances of my own spiritual life. When I read Nouwen, I find myself reflecting on solitude, community, the eucharistic life, the priesthood, and call to peacemaking. Henri’s words seem to find me in those moments when I need them. And so this is a journey I am happy to be on, and happy to continue.

And you, reader, who is your guide? Who is the author that speaks to your soul, and guides you along your spiritual journey?