Michael W. HIGGINS & Kevin BURNS. Impressively Free: Henri Nouwen as a Model for a Reformed Priesthood. New York, NY/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2019. pp. 290. $16.95 pb. ISBN: 978-0-8091-5392-3. Reviewed by Sarah Louise MACMILLEN, Ph.D. Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, PA 15282.

This volume serves two purposes eloquently: first it is a biography of the Dutch-born theologian Fr. Henri Nouwen.  Second it is a heartfelt meditation/call for renewal in the state of the Catholic priesthood into the 21st century and beyond.  This exercise, like one of Nouwen’s favorite artistic motifs, is done in a Triptych of three sections of the book.  The first and concluding chapters reflect on the state of the priesthood, buttressing the main images of the life of Henri Nouwen as an example for a new paradigm for clergy.

 The Roman Catholic priesthood is in crisis—as a result of secularization, but also in terms of the hollowing out of its own moral center through a faulty and problematic attachment to clericalism as reasserted in the vacuum of religious authority in secularization.  According to Higgins and Burns, the Church needs a revival of the priestly role, not in the cloaks and cassocks of neo-conservatism or an authoritarian rigidity, but through a kenotic (p. 15) approach of humility, honesty, transparency, hospitality and ecumenism.   The first and concluding chapters of the text explore this theme during a crucial time in the church—with the 2018 exposé on the abuse circuits, lawsuits and continual waves of revelations of sexual abuse and other misconduct reported nearly weekly.  Hopefully these realities are entering the realm of the “light” to cleanse the sins of the Church, and heal the lives of the victims.  In the beginning chapter, Higgins and Burns set the tone for their use of Nouwen as an exemplar.  They make key observations about this critical point in the life of the Church, calling for a new vision of the priesthood using the metaphoric language of “weak vessels all” (p. 14).

Enter part two of the triptych; a detailed biography of the life of Henri Nouwen.  Someone who, as it was illuminated in a somewhat painful, but heartfelt account of his time at L’Arche community (discussed in Chapter 9), so desired settling down but suffered from a terrible restlessness and “never felt God’s presence” (p. 209).  Peter Naus observed this saintly tendency toward neurotic doubt in Fr. Henri Nouwen—but perhaps this is the very tendency of “saints” from the time of Thérèse of Lisieux onward.  Modern Christians should feel a general awkwardness in life; they do not seem to fit into the cultures of profit, domination, narcissism, etc.  Naus (quoted, p. 209) writes: “The core theme of [Nouwen’s] writing is: Am I lovable? Am I valuable? Am I worthwhile?”  This is where profoundly contrary to the work of the “instrumentally rational” aims of capitalism’s norms, the world’s claims and pull are a contradictionto the Christian call to “love one’s neighbor”.  The result is this neurotic tendency—but the message from Nouwen is that this is only overcome with God’s love as a foundation. 

In other sections of the middle of the book, the reader can appreciate Fr. Nouwen’s historical rootedness in 20th century Catholicism as it grapples with deep socio-political questions.  As one brief historical snapshot, the authors describe European social and theological life following the Holocaust.  The biography reflects upon Nouwen’s glimpses and shadows of experiencing Nazism in Europe as a child (born in 1932), and how it brought about an ethical response to “the Jewish Question” to his theology later in life. Issues of anti-Semitism and diversity of religions and worldviews are also addressed in Nouwen’s theological and pastoral and academic integration of documents like Nostra aetate.  The book also mentions Nouwen’s integration of the work of influential figures like Canadian Catholic theologian and sociologist of Jewish ancestral roots, Gregory Baum. 

As a second brief example, the volume honestly tells the story of Nouwen’s struggle living in Latin America—especially learning Spanish! But there is a subtle knowledge to be gleaned from this section of the book.  In comparison with the saintly example of Bishop Oscar Romero who was a figure who “walked ahead of the church” (comment by Robert Ellsberg, quoted on p. 145), Nouwen walked somewhat, neurotically, but scrupulously, behind the world.  This is no insult; it parallels the first phase of Oscar Romero’s life—one of pause, intellectual reluctance/bookish conservativism.  Nouwen’s reluctant self-effacing manner probably hampered his “social justice activism” but also his inability to “settle down”—a profound religious gift—prevented him from the work of Praxis and employing the tasks of liberation theology on the ground.  His was the intellectual path.

The authors of Impressively Free beautifully use aninterdisciplinary methodology throughout the text, weaving together psychology, spirituality, sociology, academic theology and pastoral writings.   And this book offers a careful chronological biographical narrative that also approaches time through semi-Jungian projected integrations from interviews, memoirs, etc.  It also appeals to a wide potential readership’s generalized sociological and historical experience of being a Christian in the 20th-21st century.    A final quotation, very “Nouwen” in its sensibility: “Our wounds are where God gets in and is present” (p. 90).   The Church and the priesthood are wounded at this time, maybe even from its own inner demons; but Nouwen might see this as a “dark night” and potential for renewal.