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The Return of the Prodigal Son #1
The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming
A chance encounter with a reproduction of Rembrandt's painting, The Return of the Prodigal Son, catapulted Henri Nouwen into a long spiritual adventure. In his highly-acclaimed book of the same title, he shares the deeply personal meditation that led him to discover the place within which God has chosen to dwell. This Lent course, which has been adapted from the book, helps us to reflect on the meaning of the parable for our own lives. Divided into five sessions, the course moves through the parable exploring our reaction to the story: the younger son's leaving and return, the father's restoration of sonship, the elder son's resentment and the father's compassion. All of us who have experienced loneliness, dejection, jealousy or anger will respond to the persistent themes of homecoming, affirmation and reconciliation.
160 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1991
About the author
Henri J.M. Nouwen
337 books1,886 followersHenri Jozef Machiel Nouwen (Nouen), (1932–1996) was a Dutch-born Catholic priest and writer who authored 40 books on the spiritual life.
Nouwen's books are widely read today by Protestants and Catholics alike. The Wounded Healer, In the Name of Jesus, Clowning in Rome, The Life of the Beloved, and The Way of the Heart are just a few of the more widely recognized titles. After nearly two decades of teaching at the Menninger Foundation Clinic in Topeka, Kansas, and at the University of Notre Dame, Yale University and Harvard University, he went to share his life with mentally handicapped people at the L'Arche community of Daybreak in Toronto, Canada. After a long period of declining energy, which he chronicled in his final book, Sabbatical Journey, he died in September 1996 from a sudden heart attack.
His spirituality was influenced by many, notably by his friendship with Jean Vanier. At the invitation of Vanier he visited L'Arche in France, the first of over 130 communities around the world where people with developmental disabilities live and share life together with those who care for them. In 1986 Nouwen accepted the position of pastor for a L'Arche community called "Daybreak" in Canada, near Toronto. Nouwen wrote about his relationship with Adam, a core member at L'Arche Daybreak with profound developmental disabilities, in a book titled Adam: God's Beloved. Father Nouwen was a good friend of the late Joseph Cardinal Bernardin.
The results of a Christian Century magazine survey conducted in 2003 indicate that Nouwen's work was a first choice of authors for Catholic and mainline Protestant clergy.
One of his most famous works is Inner Voice of Love, his diary from December 1987 to June 1988 during one of his most serious bouts with clinical depression.
There is a Father Henri J. M. Nouwen Catholic Elementary School in Richmond Hill, Ontario.
Nouwen's books are widely read today by Protestants and Catholics alike. The Wounded Healer, In the Name of Jesus, Clowning in Rome, The Life of the Beloved, and The Way of the Heart are just a few of the more widely recognized titles. After nearly two decades of teaching at the Menninger Foundation Clinic in Topeka, Kansas, and at the University of Notre Dame, Yale University and Harvard University, he went to share his life with mentally handicapped people at the L'Arche community of Daybreak in Toronto, Canada. After a long period of declining energy, which he chronicled in his final book, Sabbatical Journey, he died in September 1996 from a sudden heart attack.
His spirituality was influenced by many, notably by his friendship with Jean Vanier. At the invitation of Vanier he visited L'Arche in France, the first of over 130 communities around the world where people with developmental disabilities live and share life together with those who care for them. In 1986 Nouwen accepted the position of pastor for a L'Arche community called "Daybreak" in Canada, near Toronto. Nouwen wrote about his relationship with Adam, a core member at L'Arche Daybreak with profound developmental disabilities, in a book titled Adam: God's Beloved. Father Nouwen was a good friend of the late Joseph Cardinal Bernardin.
The results of a Christian Century magazine survey conducted in 2003 indicate that Nouwen's work was a first choice of authors for Catholic and mainline Protestant clergy.
One of his most famous works is Inner Voice of Love, his diary from December 1987 to June 1988 during one of his most serious bouts with clinical depression.
There is a Father Henri J. M. Nouwen Catholic Elementary School in Richmond Hill, Ontario.
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March 21, 2024
Without question, this book is among the GREATEST TREASURES in my library.
I hold it in Olympian esteem, for it got me thinking seriously, and continuously - after retiring from a frenetic career - about the lengthy trajectory of redemption in my life.
It was a trajectory fraught with the sudden appearance of many threateningly proximate, and quite inimical, foreign objects, and fewer guideposts of refuge and certain guidance, along the way.
That was my spiritual struggle.
When I joined GR three years ago, that personal trajectory was all I talked about in my reviews, for to me a book is a spiritual mirror held up to the struggles of my soul.
So much for my own story...
Now these miraculous mirrors, books, are gaining universality in all of our thoughts, as we digest the literary experiences of a vast array of wonderful GR friends - who are now, through their variegated reactions to their fave books, becoming, in our mind’s eye, like One Universal Human Being attempting to accomplish spiritual - inward and outward - self-mastery.
Socrates said, “KNOW YOURSELF” - and we will learn ALL we need to know in life.
That’s what reading does - and it turns an inner self-fascination into an outer, and infinitely vaster, love.
Now, the secret of religion is that God is what IS.
Only that - and All that.
THE MIRACLE, though, is that He has entered into us, and directs us, in our lives and our reading, to become WHAT WE ALWAYS HAVE BEEN - as the great psychologist Carl Jung posited in his Theory of Individuation.
He will turn our endless BECOMING into eternal BEING, if we are awake.
That’s what Heaven, or enlightenment, is.
A vast whole comprising everything and everybody - as Dante saw it: “the scattered leaves of the universe.”
That, for me, is the meaning of this beautiful book - in my own life, and the author’s.
So it is with Henri Nouwen... as he starts with the human family relationships in his own life (through the mediation of a Rembrandt masterpiece) and turns them, in slowly turning and evolving progressive méditations, into the incredibly rich array of family experiences - displayed in the many stories of family interrelationships in books - that help, or hinder, our growth into an inner and vast outer human whole:
Founded in God’s love, but ONLY visible in our many Differences.
I hold it in Olympian esteem, for it got me thinking seriously, and continuously - after retiring from a frenetic career - about the lengthy trajectory of redemption in my life.
It was a trajectory fraught with the sudden appearance of many threateningly proximate, and quite inimical, foreign objects, and fewer guideposts of refuge and certain guidance, along the way.
That was my spiritual struggle.
When I joined GR three years ago, that personal trajectory was all I talked about in my reviews, for to me a book is a spiritual mirror held up to the struggles of my soul.
So much for my own story...
Now these miraculous mirrors, books, are gaining universality in all of our thoughts, as we digest the literary experiences of a vast array of wonderful GR friends - who are now, through their variegated reactions to their fave books, becoming, in our mind’s eye, like One Universal Human Being attempting to accomplish spiritual - inward and outward - self-mastery.
Socrates said, “KNOW YOURSELF” - and we will learn ALL we need to know in life.
That’s what reading does - and it turns an inner self-fascination into an outer, and infinitely vaster, love.
Now, the secret of religion is that God is what IS.
Only that - and All that.
THE MIRACLE, though, is that He has entered into us, and directs us, in our lives and our reading, to become WHAT WE ALWAYS HAVE BEEN - as the great psychologist Carl Jung posited in his Theory of Individuation.
He will turn our endless BECOMING into eternal BEING, if we are awake.
That’s what Heaven, or enlightenment, is.
A vast whole comprising everything and everybody - as Dante saw it: “the scattered leaves of the universe.”
That, for me, is the meaning of this beautiful book - in my own life, and the author’s.
So it is with Henri Nouwen... as he starts with the human family relationships in his own life (through the mediation of a Rembrandt masterpiece) and turns them, in slowly turning and evolving progressive méditations, into the incredibly rich array of family experiences - displayed in the many stories of family interrelationships in books - that help, or hinder, our growth into an inner and vast outer human whole:
Founded in God’s love, but ONLY visible in our many Differences.
July 25, 2017
Coming Home
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1636
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1642
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1668
I was trained as an art historian, so I tend to look at Rembrandt's three versions of the parable of the Return of the Prodigal Son in terms of the artist's stylistic evolution: the baroque energy of the etching made when the artist was 30, the moving simplicity of the pen and wash drawing done six years later, and his final version, painted only a few months before he died, portraying the reunion of father and son almost as a holy ritual. This was certainly the impression of Dutch theologian Henri Nouwen in 1983, when he first saw the painting—actually only the left-hand side of it—blown up as a poster in a colleague's room. He immediately saw it in terms of God the Father receiving the repentant sinner, feeling that it was speaking directly to him. A year later, on a trip to Russia, he spent two days in front of the picture at the Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg (now taking in also the watchers at the right-hand side), and continued to think and write about it for the next four years. During this time, he would give up his post at Harvard, go into retreat for a year, then take up a post as chaplain to the L'Arche Daybreak community in Toronto, a center for the mentally handicapped. His has been a long spiritual journey.
There are many reasons why I should not have liked this book. I tend to read only fiction and to stay away from memoir. My training in art history urges me towards objective analysis, rather than believing that the picture has a subjective message for me. And most importantly, although I was brought up as a Christian, I rejected that faith in my late teens, whereas Nouwen is a Catholic priest of a strikingly evangelical bent, and makes no bones about talking of God as though of a personal acquaintance:
I tend to be cautious about reading too much of an artist's life-story into his work, and Nouwen cautions himself against doing too much of this also. But nonetheless, he makes a great deal of Rembrandt as a prodigal son himself. A brash young man who set out with the world his oyster, he took the art world by storm before he was scarcely out of his teens. He made money and squandered money. But, as Nouwen writes, "during his sixty-three years, Rembrandt saw not only his dear wife Saskia die, but also three sons, two daughters, and the two women with whom he lived." He was to lose all his money, declare bankruptcy, and never again be entirely free from debt. He had…
Self-Portrait, 1669
Rembrandt starts as the prodigal and ends as the father. The moment he saw that poster, Nouwen identified himself with the errant son. But in thinking about the picture, seeing it in full in Saint Petersburg, and talking to friends who may have known him better than he knew himself, he was persuaded that there was a lot of the elder son in him too: the dutiful, self-satisfied Pharisee who kept to the law and dismissed those who didn't. That realization involved a painful journey into humility. Later still, he was persuaded that the most difficult task of all was to make himself worthy of becoming the father, in his own ministry and in his understanding of his relationship with God. Let's hear him in his own words:
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1636
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1642
The Return of the Prodigal Son, 1668
I was trained as an art historian, so I tend to look at Rembrandt's three versions of the parable of the Return of the Prodigal Son in terms of the artist's stylistic evolution: the baroque energy of the etching made when the artist was 30, the moving simplicity of the pen and wash drawing done six years later, and his final version, painted only a few months before he died, portraying the reunion of father and son almost as a holy ritual. This was certainly the impression of Dutch theologian Henri Nouwen in 1983, when he first saw the painting—actually only the left-hand side of it—blown up as a poster in a colleague's room. He immediately saw it in terms of God the Father receiving the repentant sinner, feeling that it was speaking directly to him. A year later, on a trip to Russia, he spent two days in front of the picture at the Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg (now taking in also the watchers at the right-hand side), and continued to think and write about it for the next four years. During this time, he would give up his post at Harvard, go into retreat for a year, then take up a post as chaplain to the L'Arche Daybreak community in Toronto, a center for the mentally handicapped. His has been a long spiritual journey.
There are many reasons why I should not have liked this book. I tend to read only fiction and to stay away from memoir. My training in art history urges me towards objective analysis, rather than believing that the picture has a subjective message for me. And most importantly, although I was brought up as a Christian, I rejected that faith in my late teens, whereas Nouwen is a Catholic priest of a strikingly evangelical bent, and makes no bones about talking of God as though of a personal acquaintance:
Jesus has made it clear to me that the same voice that he heard at the River Jordan and on Mount Tabor can also be heard by me. He has made it clear to me that just as he has his home with the Father, so do I.And yet, if this were a novel about a man struggling with major decisions in his inner life, I would lap it up, much like Marilynne Robinson's Home. Even more so, perhaps, if the religion were Judaism, Buddhism, or Islam, since I would accept it as a belief that I personally have never shared, rather than seeing it as a reproach to the young man I no longer am. And Nouwen writes very personally indeed. He is always there as a human being, as a man given to anger, arrogance, friendship, and devotion, and as a son in real life who has missed opportunities to tell his own father of his love.
I tend to be cautious about reading too much of an artist's life-story into his work, and Nouwen cautions himself against doing too much of this also. But nonetheless, he makes a great deal of Rembrandt as a prodigal son himself. A brash young man who set out with the world his oyster, he took the art world by storm before he was scarcely out of his teens. He made money and squandered money. But, as Nouwen writes, "during his sixty-three years, Rembrandt saw not only his dear wife Saskia die, but also three sons, two daughters, and the two women with whom he lived." He was to lose all his money, declare bankruptcy, and never again be entirely free from debt. He had…
…lived a life marked by great self-confidence, success, and fame, followed by many losses, disappointments, and failures. Through it all he had moved from the exterior light to the interior light, from the portrayal of external events to the portrayal of inner meanings, from a life full of things and people to a life marked by solitude and silence. With age, he grew more interior and still. It was a spiritual homecoming,What Nouwen says about Rembrandt's interior light is not merely poetic whimsy; it can be seen quite clearly in his late paintings. He is also implying that while the artist may have started out as the prodigal son, he ended up as the father. The old man in the picture is one of the artist's great studies of old age, on a par with his own late self-portraits, such as the one in London's National Gallery below, painted in the year of his death. But what I find so moving is that while the artist looks out with enquiring eyes, as though the world still hold mysteries that he has not solved, the father in the Prodigal Son painting is at least partially blind; he now sees with the inner eye.
Self-Portrait, 1669
Rembrandt starts as the prodigal and ends as the father. The moment he saw that poster, Nouwen identified himself with the errant son. But in thinking about the picture, seeing it in full in Saint Petersburg, and talking to friends who may have known him better than he knew himself, he was persuaded that there was a lot of the elder son in him too: the dutiful, self-satisfied Pharisee who kept to the law and dismissed those who didn't. That realization involved a painful journey into humility. Later still, he was persuaded that the most difficult task of all was to make himself worthy of becoming the father, in his own ministry and in his understanding of his relationship with God. Let's hear him in his own words:
When, four years ago, I went to Saint Petersburg to see Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son, I had little idea how much I would have to live what I then saw. I stand with awe at the place where Rembrandt brought me. He led me from the kneeling, disheveled young son to the standing, bent-over old father, from the place of being blessed to the place of blessing. As I look at my own aging hands, I know that they have been given to me to stretch out toward all who suffer, to rest upon the shoulders of all who come, and to offer the blessing that emerges from the immensity of God's love.The book is dedicated to the author's own father, for his ninetieth birthday.
September 4, 2013
Father Nouwen's book forever changed me and the way I understood this parable of forgiveness, love and our relationship with God, the Father. I first read this book in 2001 and was amazed to discover the richness and depth within the simple story told by Jesus, and also grateful to be introduced in such a profound way to Rembrandt's famous painting which adds layers of meaning to this amazing parable about the vital aspects of Relationship.
Henri J.M. Nouwen—priest, author, teacher, renown public speaker and witness for Christ—wrote The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming in first person narrative and it is very much a personal testimony, which only seems to add to the value and weight of it, at least for me.
Recently I listened to the book on CD with a friend on a long car drive and—once again—I was struck by all that Nouwen drew out of a seemingly simple story. So was my traveling companion, although her comment was, “I look and see a nice painting. He looks and sees so much more.”
Although not the six star book from my first experience, it was still incredibly rich the second time around. Would that I could overcome the Younger and Elder Sons in me to learn to love as the Father does.
Henri J.M. Nouwen—priest, author, teacher, renown public speaker and witness for Christ—wrote The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming in first person narrative and it is very much a personal testimony, which only seems to add to the value and weight of it, at least for me.
Recently I listened to the book on CD with a friend on a long car drive and—once again—I was struck by all that Nouwen drew out of a seemingly simple story. So was my traveling companion, although her comment was, “I look and see a nice painting. He looks and sees so much more.”
Although not the six star book from my first experience, it was still incredibly rich the second time around. Would that I could overcome the Younger and Elder Sons in me to learn to love as the Father does.
October 23, 2015
"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds" - W. Shakespeare
The return of the prodigal son is a homecoming story that is as old as the hills and familiar to most. It is in essence a story about the breadth, depth, and height of a father's love. This time, the story is touchingly retold in a fresh new way alongside a famous painting of the same parable.
Its author, Henri Jozef Machiel Nouwen (1932-1996,) was a Dutch-born Catholic priest, a pastoral psychologist, and professor. He taught in the divinity school at Yale and Harvard. In the Prologue to "The Return Of The Prodigal Son", Nouwen wrote: "At the heart of this adventure is a seventeenth-century painting and its artist, a first-century parable and its author, and a twentieth-century person in search of life's meaning."
The painting was Rembrandt's Prodigal Son; the parable was a homecoming story of a wayward son; the twentieth-century person was Nouwen himself who was transitioning from a life in academia to a life in one of the L'Arche communities ministering to individuals who were mentally impaired.
This book is testimony to the power of art to inspire and transform lives. Rembrandt’s painting resonated deeply with Nouwen. It was the visio divina that led him to a prayerful contemplation of his true vocation. It is hard to conceive how a man accustomed to life as an academic found his calling among the weakest and most helpless people in society. Nouwen reflected that the L’Arche community made him aware of his own limitations - "It is the place that confronts me with the fact that truly accepting love, forgiveness, and healing is often much harder than giving it."
The best reward for me was reading Nouwen’s brilliant critique of Rembrandt’s painting and observing how this analysis dovetailed his exposition of the biblical text to elucidate the meaning of the parable. He provided an illuminating commentary of Rembrandt's painting that was only possible in combination with his spiritual insight into the parable. Apparently, Rembrandt painted the Prodigal Son toward the end of his life when he too had become weather beaten but broken for the better. I was thankful to be treated to a mini history of Rembrandt’s life and to be privy to the circumstances that influenced his paintings.
This book offered one of the most insightful expositions of the parable of the prodigal son that I have ever come across. The parable was explained in its historical context, which I had not previously appreciated. The younger son's leaving and bold demand for his share of his inheritance was tantamount to wishing his father dead. What audacity!
Nouwen expounded on the meaning of Home in its true spiritual sense. Leaving home was "a denial of the spiritual reality that I belong to God with every part of my being, that God holds me safe in an eternal embrace, that I am indeed carved in the palms of God's hands and hidden in their shadow”. Home finds its bedrock in the father’s love ("I am loved so much that I am left free to leave home."). Nouwen gave a very stirring description of the father’s love as depicted in Rembrandt’s painting and the parable - a love that is supposed to reflect divine love. It is humbling to think that humans are incapable of truly fathoming the heart of God. Divine love defies human understanding, I think, because we love imperfectly.
Nouwen's analysis afforded me a new perspective. He revealed why this parable might well have been called "a parable of the lost sons". In truth, the son who never left home was lost too. He was estranged from his father in a different way. "The lostness of the resentful 'saint' is so hard to reach precisely because it is so closely wedded to the desire to be good and virtuous." How insightful! Another point worth noting is that the responses of the two sons to the father’s welcome were left open ended. Only one thing is certain and that is the father's "heart of limitless mercy".
I also appreciated what Nouwen wrote about the discipline of gratitude, which is "the explicit effort to acknowledge all that I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy." All of life is a pure gift - something to remember when the drudgery of life suggests otherwise.
Nouwen has a way of writing that is warm, tender, and persuasive. I believe this stems from his willingness to be vulnerable. He shared honestly his struggles in his own spiritual journey and it is this that gently takes the reader many steps closer to the Father.
This book is a gift from Nouwen's heart.
February 15, 2024
I really ate this up once I got to the middle chunk.
Beautiful truth about the reality of the prodigal story relating to each one of us.
The Father is always eagerly waiting for us return to his embrace.
Very encouraged.
Beautiful truth about the reality of the prodigal story relating to each one of us.
The Father is always eagerly waiting for us return to his embrace.
Very encouraged.
September 4, 2016
The Futile, Powerless God of Henri Nouwen
"Today I personally believe that while Jesus came to open the door to God's house, all human beings can walk through that door, whether they know about Jesus or not. Today I see it as my call to help every person claim his or her own way to God." – Henri Nouwen
The parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15 used to be my favorite Bible passage. Until a contemplative mystic priest named Henri Nouwen ruined it for me.
Several years ago, I wrote about my brief encounter with "contemplative Christianity", which I was introduced to through the works of Brennan Manning, Richard Foster, and Basil Pennington. Although I was a much younger Christian and could not discern that their practices of "inner seeing" and "hearing" God were not biblical (through trance-like meditation, extreme fasting, repetition of mantras, "breath prayers" and other mystical practices), I started to get the sense that something was just "off" about it all. Naturally, unbiblical practice and adding "spiritual disciplines" (that have more in common with paganism than Scripture) will shape one's theology.
These men, and many more like them - Thomas Merton; Henri Nouwen; David G. Benner - claimed to be Christians at one time, (gradually transitioning to a theistic Buddhism - Merton converted entirely to Buddhism while still a Catholic monk) but in fact their theology has more in common with Eastern religions than Christianity. Christian mysticism is itself an oxymoron - see CARM (Christian Apologetics Research Ministry) or Gotquestions.org for more info about contemplative spirituality, and it's connection with the New Age.
Contemplative prayer, by design, focuses on having a mystical experience with God. It was while reading one of Benner's books, "The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call of Self-Discovery" that God gave me a wake-up call. I began what would become a 10-year journey, researching theistic philosophies such as pantheism, panentheism, universal salvation, trancendental meditation (which contemplatives call "the silence"), etc. Another four years of theological training to become a biblical counselor helped solidify my ability to "test all things", and compare teachings to the Bible's clear teaching.
Nevertheless, it was with some anticipation that I picked up Henri Nouwen's "The Return of the Prodigal Son" recentlyon the recommendation of a friend. A meditation (in the Christian sense of the word!) on Rembrandt's famous painting, I settled in to enjoy the sensitive priest's insights into this beautiful picture of God's love.
As I began reading, two things emerged by the end of the Introduction: Nouwen was a man who sincerely loved the Lord and His people. And, he was firmly in the contemplative/mystical camp (a fact I already knew), but the casual reader, unfamiliar with the New Age terminology used by contemplatives, might not pick that up. Words may be ascribed different meanings by different people, which makes doctrinal error so slippery. I began to take notes.
The Good, the Bad, and the Blasphemous
There was much that was very, very good in "Prodigal Son". There was nothing mystical in his analysis and personal reflection on the painting per se, or in how he inserted himself into the parable - to identify with each of the three main characters. Many of his points about grace, accepting forgiveness, and the unconditional love of the Father were excellent, especially coming from a Catholic writer. “More than any other story in the Gospel, the parable of the Prodigal Son expresses the boundlessness of God’s compassionate love. And when I place myself in that story under the light of that divine love, it becomes painfully clear that leaving home is much closer to my spiritual experience than I might have thought.” Nouwen deeply sought fellowship with Christ. The problem, as evidenced by his faulty theology, is that he was seeking it in broken cisterns - not in the Word of God.
Before the end of the first section, a study on the younger son himself, Nouwen referred to "inner light", "inner seeing", and "inner healing". All of these may sound like fairly benign terms to one unfamiliar with mysticism, but they all point towards the "going within to find enlightenment" theophostic philosophy taken from Eastern religions. (Christianity, by contrast, teaches us that we need a new spirit and a new heart - and to look to Jesus). In all of the ways Nouwen mentioned how he "heard from God" - most notably, "in the center of [his] being", he never once mentioned the Bible. For even an immature believer, this should be a major red flag - the way God specifically reveals Himself to us is through His Word. Not through mystical means, which are condemned in Scripture (Deut. 18:9-12a).
The vast majority of what Nouwen wrote about our propensity to "flee to the wilderness", away from God's love, and the thought-patterns (insecurity; pride; comparison and jealousy) that harden our hearts was excellent. His insights into the human condition and how we relate to God rivaled those of any Reformed biblical counselor. I would just start to relax and enjoy the book when I would be blind-sided by a heretical statement such as "Judas sold the sword of his sonship" (and thus lost his salvation), or "I am touching here the mystery that Jesus himself became the prodigal son for our sake.”
A Powerless God?
According to Nouwen, God is "powerless" to prevent His children's rebellion (p. 90); "naive" (p. 99); "both Father and Mother" (p. 94); "she" and "her" (p. 96); "needs me as much as I need Him" (p.99) and the real sin is "ignoring [our] 'original goodness' (p. 101). The final section of the book, on the Father, is where Nouwen's faulty view of God became most apparent and the entire analysis fell apart.
Let's compare Henri Nouwen's god with the God of Scripture. Sovereignty means that God, as the ruler of the Universe, has the right to do whatever he wants. He is in complete control over everything that happens. (Psalm 115:3; Daniel 4:35; Romans 9:20.) He has no need of anything outside of Himself; and He is not standing like a beggar, hat in hand, needful of our love (as is the case with Nouwen's god.)
Further, Nouwen's idealistic view that ALL are children of God and have "original goodness" completely contradicts what Scripture states about unregenerate man: Abominable – Rev. 21:8 Sinners – Rev. 22:15 Fault finders – Job 41 Corrupt – Psalm 14:1,3; Rom. 3:10 Evil – 2 Tim 3:13 (just to name a few unsavory characteristics).
Perhaps most bizarre was Nouwen's dogged insistence - straight out of Wiccan and New Age belief systems - that God is feminine as well as masculine; both Mother and Father. The Bible clearly teaches that God is Father; it's not really open to debate or interpretation.
The Price of Error
False teaching is often hard to spot, precisely because it sounds so good. It's usually mixed in with just enough Truth to be palatable. But to anyone with a strong grasp of Scripture, the problem with Nouwen's doctrine - especially his view of salvation and the nature of God - should have been obvious. (I had deliberately NOT shared my personal opinion while pointing out the book's shortcomings, but followed a clear-cut format: "Nouwen says: X. The Bible says:Y.") Scripture speaks for itself.
How can Bible-believing Christians, when faced with such clear-cut instances of deviant theology, not spot the error? We should be horrified by Nouwen's powerless God; rejection of original sin and depravity of man; universal salvation (many paths lead to God), and blasphemous statements that God is "Mother" and Christ "became the Prodigal Son"? It is willful deception that, when shown the clear words of Scripture, rejects them for the sake of defending the heretic. I will never be able to read Luke 15 again without the bitter taste of false teaching in my mouth.
"Today I personally believe that while Jesus came to open the door to God's house, all human beings can walk through that door, whether they know about Jesus or not. Today I see it as my call to help every person claim his or her own way to God." – Henri Nouwen
The parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15 used to be my favorite Bible passage. Until a contemplative mystic priest named Henri Nouwen ruined it for me.
Several years ago, I wrote about my brief encounter with "contemplative Christianity", which I was introduced to through the works of Brennan Manning, Richard Foster, and Basil Pennington. Although I was a much younger Christian and could not discern that their practices of "inner seeing" and "hearing" God were not biblical (through trance-like meditation, extreme fasting, repetition of mantras, "breath prayers" and other mystical practices), I started to get the sense that something was just "off" about it all. Naturally, unbiblical practice and adding "spiritual disciplines" (that have more in common with paganism than Scripture) will shape one's theology.
These men, and many more like them - Thomas Merton; Henri Nouwen; David G. Benner - claimed to be Christians at one time, (gradually transitioning to a theistic Buddhism - Merton converted entirely to Buddhism while still a Catholic monk) but in fact their theology has more in common with Eastern religions than Christianity. Christian mysticism is itself an oxymoron - see CARM (Christian Apologetics Research Ministry) or Gotquestions.org for more info about contemplative spirituality, and it's connection with the New Age.
Contemplative prayer, by design, focuses on having a mystical experience with God. It was while reading one of Benner's books, "The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call of Self-Discovery" that God gave me a wake-up call. I began what would become a 10-year journey, researching theistic philosophies such as pantheism, panentheism, universal salvation, trancendental meditation (which contemplatives call "the silence"), etc. Another four years of theological training to become a biblical counselor helped solidify my ability to "test all things", and compare teachings to the Bible's clear teaching.
Nevertheless, it was with some anticipation that I picked up Henri Nouwen's "The Return of the Prodigal Son" recentlyon the recommendation of a friend. A meditation (in the Christian sense of the word!) on Rembrandt's famous painting, I settled in to enjoy the sensitive priest's insights into this beautiful picture of God's love.
As I began reading, two things emerged by the end of the Introduction: Nouwen was a man who sincerely loved the Lord and His people. And, he was firmly in the contemplative/mystical camp (a fact I already knew), but the casual reader, unfamiliar with the New Age terminology used by contemplatives, might not pick that up. Words may be ascribed different meanings by different people, which makes doctrinal error so slippery. I began to take notes.
The Good, the Bad, and the Blasphemous
There was much that was very, very good in "Prodigal Son". There was nothing mystical in his analysis and personal reflection on the painting per se, or in how he inserted himself into the parable - to identify with each of the three main characters. Many of his points about grace, accepting forgiveness, and the unconditional love of the Father were excellent, especially coming from a Catholic writer. “More than any other story in the Gospel, the parable of the Prodigal Son expresses the boundlessness of God’s compassionate love. And when I place myself in that story under the light of that divine love, it becomes painfully clear that leaving home is much closer to my spiritual experience than I might have thought.” Nouwen deeply sought fellowship with Christ. The problem, as evidenced by his faulty theology, is that he was seeking it in broken cisterns - not in the Word of God.
Before the end of the first section, a study on the younger son himself, Nouwen referred to "inner light", "inner seeing", and "inner healing". All of these may sound like fairly benign terms to one unfamiliar with mysticism, but they all point towards the "going within to find enlightenment" theophostic philosophy taken from Eastern religions. (Christianity, by contrast, teaches us that we need a new spirit and a new heart - and to look to Jesus). In all of the ways Nouwen mentioned how he "heard from God" - most notably, "in the center of [his] being", he never once mentioned the Bible. For even an immature believer, this should be a major red flag - the way God specifically reveals Himself to us is through His Word. Not through mystical means, which are condemned in Scripture (Deut. 18:9-12a).
The vast majority of what Nouwen wrote about our propensity to "flee to the wilderness", away from God's love, and the thought-patterns (insecurity; pride; comparison and jealousy) that harden our hearts was excellent. His insights into the human condition and how we relate to God rivaled those of any Reformed biblical counselor. I would just start to relax and enjoy the book when I would be blind-sided by a heretical statement such as "Judas sold the sword of his sonship" (and thus lost his salvation), or "I am touching here the mystery that Jesus himself became the prodigal son for our sake.”
A Powerless God?
According to Nouwen, God is "powerless" to prevent His children's rebellion (p. 90); "naive" (p. 99); "both Father and Mother" (p. 94); "she" and "her" (p. 96); "needs me as much as I need Him" (p.99) and the real sin is "ignoring [our] 'original goodness' (p. 101). The final section of the book, on the Father, is where Nouwen's faulty view of God became most apparent and the entire analysis fell apart.
Let's compare Henri Nouwen's god with the God of Scripture. Sovereignty means that God, as the ruler of the Universe, has the right to do whatever he wants. He is in complete control over everything that happens. (Psalm 115:3; Daniel 4:35; Romans 9:20.) He has no need of anything outside of Himself; and He is not standing like a beggar, hat in hand, needful of our love (as is the case with Nouwen's god.)
Further, Nouwen's idealistic view that ALL are children of God and have "original goodness" completely contradicts what Scripture states about unregenerate man: Abominable – Rev. 21:8 Sinners – Rev. 22:15 Fault finders – Job 41 Corrupt – Psalm 14:1,3; Rom. 3:10 Evil – 2 Tim 3:13 (just to name a few unsavory characteristics).
Perhaps most bizarre was Nouwen's dogged insistence - straight out of Wiccan and New Age belief systems - that God is feminine as well as masculine; both Mother and Father. The Bible clearly teaches that God is Father; it's not really open to debate or interpretation.
The Price of Error
False teaching is often hard to spot, precisely because it sounds so good. It's usually mixed in with just enough Truth to be palatable. But to anyone with a strong grasp of Scripture, the problem with Nouwen's doctrine - especially his view of salvation and the nature of God - should have been obvious. (I had deliberately NOT shared my personal opinion while pointing out the book's shortcomings, but followed a clear-cut format: "Nouwen says: X. The Bible says:Y.") Scripture speaks for itself.
How can Bible-believing Christians, when faced with such clear-cut instances of deviant theology, not spot the error? We should be horrified by Nouwen's powerless God; rejection of original sin and depravity of man; universal salvation (many paths lead to God), and blasphemous statements that God is "Mother" and Christ "became the Prodigal Son"? It is willful deception that, when shown the clear words of Scripture, rejects them for the sake of defending the heretic. I will never be able to read Luke 15 again without the bitter taste of false teaching in my mouth.
March 15, 2022
While very short, this is a richly profound look at the spiritual implications of Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son. It clearly came from years of reflection. And it gave me much to chew over. I think it is one I will have to come back to and chew on some more.
May 20, 2018
A lot to chew on with this elegant and short reflection on both Jesus' parable and Rembrandt's painting of the return of the prodigal son. I especially enjoyed Nouwen's confessional writing style, which allows him to preach without being preachy and convict the reader without claiming to do so. The best part is Nouwen's discussion of the elder son, often neglected in treatments of the parable but whose own journey is perhaps most relevant to many Christians, including myself.
November 29, 2021
Using Jesus’ well-known parable and Rembrandt’s painting of The Return of the Prodigal Son, Nouwen performs a thorough and meaningful close-read, expounding on the spiritual roles of Father, Brother, and Son (or, more appropriately, Parent, Sibling, and Child, since Nouwen does not dwell on gender specificity). Divided into three main sections, the book describes each of these figures, drawing further insight from Rembrandt’s painting and corresponding events in the painter’s life. The discussion explores the characters of the younger and older brothers and the many ways in which they represent humanity; but the entire book culminates in an examination of the father, who is not only the final speaker in Jesus’ story and the visual center of Rembrandt’s piece, but also a personification of the nature of God’s love—a personification to which we all are called to aspire.
On the whole, the book succeeds as a feel-good reassurance of God’s love for his people without resultantly serving up a mushy or watered-down theology. The subsequent step to accepting the all-forgiving, all-consuming love of the father is committing oneself to the incredible calling to be a “father.” Without ever erring on self-righteousness or preachiness, Nouwen demonstrates that we are not called simply to be children of God, but to humbly strive to take on a role similar to that of the benevolent and selflessly embracing patriarch of Rembrandt’s painting. Nouwen’s prose is instructive without ever becoming didactic. He brings himself to the same level as his readers without compromising his position as an authority on the subject. In this way, The Return of the Prodigal Son serves not only as a source of emotional reassurance, but also as a firm challenge to the reader to take seriously the responsibilities inextricable from being the Beloved of God.
On the whole, the book succeeds as a feel-good reassurance of God’s love for his people without resultantly serving up a mushy or watered-down theology. The subsequent step to accepting the all-forgiving, all-consuming love of the father is committing oneself to the incredible calling to be a “father.” Without ever erring on self-righteousness or preachiness, Nouwen demonstrates that we are not called simply to be children of God, but to humbly strive to take on a role similar to that of the benevolent and selflessly embracing patriarch of Rembrandt’s painting. Nouwen’s prose is instructive without ever becoming didactic. He brings himself to the same level as his readers without compromising his position as an authority on the subject. In this way, The Return of the Prodigal Son serves not only as a source of emotional reassurance, but also as a firm challenge to the reader to take seriously the responsibilities inextricable from being the Beloved of God.
May 7, 2021
Henri Nouwen is a favorite of mine--always pointing the way toward greater growth in love, always recognizing the challenges involved, and sharing openly his own struggles and vulnerability.
In this book, Nouwen describes his encounter with the Rembrandt painting of the parable of the return of the prodigal son. It germinated within him for a year before he began to intellectually--and then emotionally--unpack what the picture meant for him.
There are three major figures in the painting (as in the story): the younger son (who took his inheritance, left home, and spent it all), the elder son (bitterly jealous of the father's forgiveness of the younger son, the self-righteous, "good" son), and the Father (who represents God, the all-forgiving, endlessly loving, accepting, and compassionate parent).
Initially, Nouwen says he identified with the younger son. This was my experience as well with the parable. Later he came to see himself as much if not more as the older son. The relentlessly "good" person, always doing the "right" thing but expecting a reward for doing so: the admiration, even the love of others, in this case of the Father. It is a great temptation to fall into being the older son. It is--or was for me anyway--more painful to recognize oneself in this bitter, resentful, self-righteous character. And yet--to return home after being lost may be difficult but ultimately easier to see that you need forgiveness and to accept compassion but to see yourself as doing the right thing, being obedient and following the rules but being held in the same esteem as the person who has spent their life indulging in every whim and dissipation can (and for most of us is) a big ego blow. What is the point of being "good", if it doesn't make you "better" than the people who don't obey the rules and give way to temptation.
In short: how can the father love and value both equally? The younger son's challenge is to receive this all-embracing love and forgiveness, the older son's challenge is to let go of his pride and reenter his family, including his brother. The ultimate challenge for all of us, says Nouwen, is to become the all-loving, forgiving, and compassionate father (or mother). He writes of his own struggles to let go of youth and become the fully mature adult, no longer begging for love but becoming its source.
This is a very rough description of the book which is filled with beautiful insights. "I can see 3 ways to a truly compassionate fatherhood--grief, forgiveness, and generosity....This grieving is praying." and "Joy and resentment cannot coexist" are two of my favorites. But I've underlined so much of this book that I can see I will want to read this book again and again, for comfort and courage.
In this book, Nouwen describes his encounter with the Rembrandt painting of the parable of the return of the prodigal son. It germinated within him for a year before he began to intellectually--and then emotionally--unpack what the picture meant for him.
There are three major figures in the painting (as in the story): the younger son (who took his inheritance, left home, and spent it all), the elder son (bitterly jealous of the father's forgiveness of the younger son, the self-righteous, "good" son), and the Father (who represents God, the all-forgiving, endlessly loving, accepting, and compassionate parent).
Initially, Nouwen says he identified with the younger son. This was my experience as well with the parable. Later he came to see himself as much if not more as the older son. The relentlessly "good" person, always doing the "right" thing but expecting a reward for doing so: the admiration, even the love of others, in this case of the Father. It is a great temptation to fall into being the older son. It is--or was for me anyway--more painful to recognize oneself in this bitter, resentful, self-righteous character. And yet--to return home after being lost may be difficult but ultimately easier to see that you need forgiveness and to accept compassion but to see yourself as doing the right thing, being obedient and following the rules but being held in the same esteem as the person who has spent their life indulging in every whim and dissipation can (and for most of us is) a big ego blow. What is the point of being "good", if it doesn't make you "better" than the people who don't obey the rules and give way to temptation.
In short: how can the father love and value both equally? The younger son's challenge is to receive this all-embracing love and forgiveness, the older son's challenge is to let go of his pride and reenter his family, including his brother. The ultimate challenge for all of us, says Nouwen, is to become the all-loving, forgiving, and compassionate father (or mother). He writes of his own struggles to let go of youth and become the fully mature adult, no longer begging for love but becoming its source.
This is a very rough description of the book which is filled with beautiful insights. "I can see 3 ways to a truly compassionate fatherhood--grief, forgiveness, and generosity....This grieving is praying." and "Joy and resentment cannot coexist" are two of my favorites. But I've underlined so much of this book that I can see I will want to read this book again and again, for comfort and courage.
April 25, 2023
This book completely blew me away on so many levels. Very much enjoyed how Henri J.M. Nouwen gave a tremendous amount of history on Rembrandt’s painting of The Prodigal Son. There was so much that I didn’t know about the painting. I loved how Nouwen made comparisons between his life and what he felt was Rembrandt’s interpretation could have been. I saw so much of myself between the pages, that I had to stop reading and get hold of myself.
This was the perfect book to read during lent. I highly recommend reading!
This was the perfect book to read during lent. I highly recommend reading!
June 5, 2019
This is an excellent, mature, thought-provoking reflection on the famous Gospel parable of the Prodigal Son. In sharing his very personal prayer with this story and its depiction by Rembrandt, Fr. Nouwen has written a universally insightful and challenging book. I need to buy
July 17, 2021
¿Qué esperarías si combinaras las palabras de Jesús con el genio pictórico de Rembrandt? El resultado de la ecuación sería probablemente, belleza. Las parábolas son una herramienta poderosísima. A través de historias sencillas, se revelan aspectos de la realidad de los que no éramos conscientes. Particularmente la Parábola del Hijo Pródigo (Lc 15:11-32) es una de las más bellas de Jesús. Nunca tan pocas palabras expresaron tanto. Nunca palabras dirigidas a unos pocos (los escribas), tuvieron tanto eco en tantos. Este es el misterio y la belleza de las parábolas de Jesús. Es como si desde el siglo I, te hablara a ti y ahora. El autor del libro, Henri Nouwen, hace un profundo y original análisis de esta parábola a través del cuadro homónimo de Rembrandt. Con lo que esta lectura, es además un complemento muy útil para aprender a "mirar un cuadro". Dejando de lado algunos detalles marginales discutibles - como llamar a Dios "madre" - nos centrarenos en lo nuclear:
Estamos ante un libro paradigmático, es decir, recoge la sabiduría de un texto bíblico (Lc 15:11-32) para aplicarla a tu vida cotidiana. Una especie de patrón o modelo de comportamiento con el que, como hijos pródigos, recomenzamos una nueva etapa. Estamos siempre abriendo y cerrando capítulos vitales, por eso este libro es importante. Es una obra similar al maravilloso Arte de Recomenzar de Fabio Rosini.
La parábola se explica desde 3 perspectivas diferentes: la del hijo menor, la del hijo mayor y la del padre. Más allá de palabras y trazos pictóricos, tu mundo interior va aflorando y haciéndose consciente - y para tu asombro, va describiendo con precisión tu realidad concreta. Lo hace describiendo aspectos de tu personalidad que pueden estar, aquí y ahora, atándote a una soledad y un vacío existencial terribles - resentimiento, egoísmo, falta de autoestima, orgullo o autosuficiencia. ¿Quién no se ha sentido alguna vez arrastrado por sus pasiones? ¿Quién no ha perdido el control de su vida? En última instancia, las causas de ese alejamiento de casa, están descritas en este libro.
Quizás la semejanza más evidente es la del hijo menor, el hijo pródigo. Puedes sentirte identificado con él, si en tu vida has priorizado lo material, los placeres, el poder, la fama - y has terminado vagando en soledad por un árido desierto, donde eras manipulado, despreciado - teniendo tu mundo interior un valor marginal. También si estás literalmente en una encrucijada vital - cambio de trabajo, proyectos, ciudad, amistades o pareja - este libro te dará claves muy buenas para discernir y tomar decisiones.
La identificación con el hijo mayor es más sutil pero no menos importante. Si como a Pedro en el lavatorio de los pies (Jn 13:4-17), te cuesta recibir cualquier muestra de amor incondicional, quizás te parezcas más al hijo mayor. Vives de una forma ordenada - como aquellos fariseos de Jesús - pero tu orgullo te lleva a negar tu vulnerabilidad, a querer tener siempre el control de tu vida con un mínimo de contraprestaciones, a no creerte merecedor de ser amado. Te enfureces y entristeces a la mínima crítica. No dejas de quejarte porque tus expectativas nunca se cumplen. Y además, no dejas de rumiar en tu mente diálogos extenuantes con personas del pasado que ya no están en tu vida - ex parejas, viejos amigos, antiguos jefes - para autojustificarte. Si te sientes identificado, eres sin duda el hijo mayor, y encontrás apoyo en esta obra.
Y finalmente, este libro importa porque vamos cumpliendo años y nos hacemos viejos. Es tiempo de identificarse con el Padre. ¿A caso no es hora de dejar de ser ese eterno adolescente? Como se cita en Jn 21:18:
Estamos ante un libro paradigmático, es decir, recoge la sabiduría de un texto bíblico (Lc 15:11-32) para aplicarla a tu vida cotidiana. Una especie de patrón o modelo de comportamiento con el que, como hijos pródigos, recomenzamos una nueva etapa. Estamos siempre abriendo y cerrando capítulos vitales, por eso este libro es importante. Es una obra similar al maravilloso Arte de Recomenzar de Fabio Rosini.
La parábola se explica desde 3 perspectivas diferentes: la del hijo menor, la del hijo mayor y la del padre. Más allá de palabras y trazos pictóricos, tu mundo interior va aflorando y haciéndose consciente - y para tu asombro, va describiendo con precisión tu realidad concreta. Lo hace describiendo aspectos de tu personalidad que pueden estar, aquí y ahora, atándote a una soledad y un vacío existencial terribles - resentimiento, egoísmo, falta de autoestima, orgullo o autosuficiencia. ¿Quién no se ha sentido alguna vez arrastrado por sus pasiones? ¿Quién no ha perdido el control de su vida? En última instancia, las causas de ese alejamiento de casa, están descritas en este libro.
Quizás la semejanza más evidente es la del hijo menor, el hijo pródigo. Puedes sentirte identificado con él, si en tu vida has priorizado lo material, los placeres, el poder, la fama - y has terminado vagando en soledad por un árido desierto, donde eras manipulado, despreciado - teniendo tu mundo interior un valor marginal. También si estás literalmente en una encrucijada vital - cambio de trabajo, proyectos, ciudad, amistades o pareja - este libro te dará claves muy buenas para discernir y tomar decisiones.
La identificación con el hijo mayor es más sutil pero no menos importante. Si como a Pedro en el lavatorio de los pies (Jn 13:4-17), te cuesta recibir cualquier muestra de amor incondicional, quizás te parezcas más al hijo mayor. Vives de una forma ordenada - como aquellos fariseos de Jesús - pero tu orgullo te lleva a negar tu vulnerabilidad, a querer tener siempre el control de tu vida con un mínimo de contraprestaciones, a no creerte merecedor de ser amado. Te enfureces y entristeces a la mínima crítica. No dejas de quejarte porque tus expectativas nunca se cumplen. Y además, no dejas de rumiar en tu mente diálogos extenuantes con personas del pasado que ya no están en tu vida - ex parejas, viejos amigos, antiguos jefes - para autojustificarte. Si te sientes identificado, eres sin duda el hijo mayor, y encontrás apoyo en esta obra.
Y finalmente, este libro importa porque vamos cumpliendo años y nos hacemos viejos. Es tiempo de identificarse con el Padre. ¿A caso no es hora de dejar de ser ese eterno adolescente? Como se cita en Jn 21:18:
"Cuando eras joven ibas adonde querías, pero cuando envejezcas te ceñirán y te llevarán adonde no quieras."Si sientes la angustia del paso del tiempo, este libro te calmará. Tu rol de hijo ha terminado, quizás sea hora de asumir un tipo de "paternidad espiritual" que dé sentido a una soledad asfixiante. Lo que pierdes en salud y libertad, lo ganarás - con la ayuda de Dios - en experiencia, compasión, generosidad y amor incondicional. Y siendo así, perderás el miedo a la muerte y vivirás.
July 19, 2022
You just gotta, you know what I mean?
March 31, 2024
God does not measure out his love to his children according to how well they behave
February 4, 2024
Our staff team read this book over the summer. I'm glad we did, and I look forward to the conversations around it. Most of my life, I have considered myself in the shoes of the older son. I could relate to Nouwen's own experience of being the 'good' kid - the one who (resentfully) did the right thing. This book has given me perspective on both sons in new ways, but at this stage in life, I particularly resonated with his words about the father - the call to loneliness, death to self, and generous compassion towards others. We can stay in the more "comfortable", immature positions of being the invited and welcomed children... but if we want to grow, we need to learn what it means to be the hurting father who reaches out arms of love towards other lost, angry children.
A book worth reading again.
A book worth reading again.
March 23, 2014
I received this book as a gift from a dear friend. And it may be one of the more important books I've read year to date. There are some books that a person reads, and it is just the book that person needs to read at that moment. This was one of those books for me. It may not be the book someone else needs to read today, but it will probably be a book you will need to read someday.
Nouwen's book is simultaneously autobiographical and devotional. But, it is more than just a devotional book on the Biblical parable of the prodigal son; it is a devotional book on Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son as well. There are three sections, each dealing with one of the brothers or the father. Nouwen takes you through the life of each of the character, considering it from the character's perspective, Rembrandt's perspective, his own perspective, the reader's, and finally Jesus Christ's.
I found myself moved by much of the book. There were portions of it that, upon reading, I would have to stop reading just to consider further what he had said to me. That doesn't happen often, if at all, for me while reading a book. In fact, so moved was I by this book, that I now own a print of Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son and have it hanging in my home.
This is a must read, I just don't know when you must read it.
Nouwen's book is simultaneously autobiographical and devotional. But, it is more than just a devotional book on the Biblical parable of the prodigal son; it is a devotional book on Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son as well. There are three sections, each dealing with one of the brothers or the father. Nouwen takes you through the life of each of the character, considering it from the character's perspective, Rembrandt's perspective, his own perspective, the reader's, and finally Jesus Christ's.
I found myself moved by much of the book. There were portions of it that, upon reading, I would have to stop reading just to consider further what he had said to me. That doesn't happen often, if at all, for me while reading a book. In fact, so moved was I by this book, that I now own a print of Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son and have it hanging in my home.
This is a must read, I just don't know when you must read it.
July 19, 2022
Re-read 2022: I loved it even more this time. I believe this one is destined to be a constant returner for me. I have lent it to a few other people as well - it's a profoundly impactful book.
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Oh this book. I had no idea what a treasure I was in for.
I have read and heard lots of teaching on this passage, probably more than any other in scripture. Part of me thought "why read more?" I've read many Henri Nouwen books and although I liked them, I found them to be a bit too vague for my tastes. Sometimes I felt like he wasn't saying much. So should I read this book?
Well God knew that I would see this 50 cent book at my library and buy it... and I'm so glad I did.
Nouwen focuses not simply on the biblical story of the Prodigal Son, but on Rembrandt's painting of it. This concrete focus grounds this book more than any of his others, answering my second objection.
As for the story itself - could Nouwen bring out fresh truths from this passage? YES. This is one of those books I have quoted to friends, that has pierced my heart, and I know I will need to read again. The last chapters focus on the father in the story... and how mature Christians are called to step into fatherhood.
This is the best of his books I've read, and I have read many. Get it and read it and rejoice in the love of the Father.
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Oh this book. I had no idea what a treasure I was in for.
I have read and heard lots of teaching on this passage, probably more than any other in scripture. Part of me thought "why read more?" I've read many Henri Nouwen books and although I liked them, I found them to be a bit too vague for my tastes. Sometimes I felt like he wasn't saying much. So should I read this book?
Well God knew that I would see this 50 cent book at my library and buy it... and I'm so glad I did.
Nouwen focuses not simply on the biblical story of the Prodigal Son, but on Rembrandt's painting of it. This concrete focus grounds this book more than any of his others, answering my second objection.
As for the story itself - could Nouwen bring out fresh truths from this passage? YES. This is one of those books I have quoted to friends, that has pierced my heart, and I know I will need to read again. The last chapters focus on the father in the story... and how mature Christians are called to step into fatherhood.
This is the best of his books I've read, and I have read many. Get it and read it and rejoice in the love of the Father.
July 24, 2008
So much of the time it feels like Nouwen is writing about my life as much as his own. So far, this is yet another example.
Beautiful book that for me needed to be soaked up slowly. 3-4 months for me to read 140 pages. After finishing, and claiming no expertise in the matter, I'm going to say all pastors should read this book.
Why? Because of this conclusion: "Our community is full of wayward and angry children, and being surrounded by peers gives a sense of solidarity. Yet the longer I am part of the community, the more that solidarity proves to be only a way station on the road to a much more lonely destination: the loneliness of the Father, the loneliness of God, the ultimate loneliness of compassion."
The more I read Nouwen, the more I am impressed with his ability to conclude profoundly, leading me empathetically and subtly through knowledge of myself to surprising conclusions about who I can and should become.
Thanks again, Henri.
Beautiful book that for me needed to be soaked up slowly. 3-4 months for me to read 140 pages. After finishing, and claiming no expertise in the matter, I'm going to say all pastors should read this book.
Why? Because of this conclusion: "Our community is full of wayward and angry children, and being surrounded by peers gives a sense of solidarity. Yet the longer I am part of the community, the more that solidarity proves to be only a way station on the road to a much more lonely destination: the loneliness of the Father, the loneliness of God, the ultimate loneliness of compassion."
The more I read Nouwen, the more I am impressed with his ability to conclude profoundly, leading me empathetically and subtly through knowledge of myself to surprising conclusions about who I can and should become.
Thanks again, Henri.
August 18, 2020
In short, Nouwen gets it. This book is chalk full of wisdom and truth about the Christian life. 10/10 would recommend.
“Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “how am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home.”
“Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “how am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home.”
September 30, 2022
This portrait of God's love for his children is one of the most moving books I have ever read. Like all of Jesus' parables, the truth is revealed one layer at a time, and Nouwen's reflections on this famous parable peel these layers back to the very core. Like me, you might wonder if you ever really knew the story of the prodigal son to begin with. Everyone asks why there is suffering in the world, and while this book touches on that age-old question, the bigger (but very-related) question that surfaces is this: why do we continually refuse the all-encompassing, world-altering, arms-wide-open, love of our Father?
March 19, 2023
Prachtig! Diep geraakt door de manier waarop Nouwen de gelijkenis van de verloren zoon zo dichtbij brengt. Mooi ook hoe het schilderij en het leven van Rembrandt een rol spelen in het boek. Zeker een aanrader!
March 15, 2024
A book that combines theology with one of my favourite Dutch Golden Age painters? Profound and beautiful meditation on the parable of the prodigal son.
February 28, 2024
Everyone needs to read this. That is all
July 23, 2022
I will re-read it soon, for sure!
May 12, 2022
This may be my all-time favorite source of spiritual encouragement. Certainly, Henri Nouwen is my go-to for consolation in the face of suffering.
In this book, Nouwen interprets both Rembrandt's paining and the Biblical parable from three perspectives: that of the son, that of the father, and that of the brother. We have all been one of them at some point in our lives. Many of us have been all of them.
Nouwen's prose somehow manages to be both crystalline and soft. I don't know how he did it, unless it was by divine intervention. When I began reading Henri Nouwen over a decade ago, I realized how far I had to go as a writer...and as a human being.
In this book, Nouwen interprets both Rembrandt's paining and the Biblical parable from three perspectives: that of the son, that of the father, and that of the brother. We have all been one of them at some point in our lives. Many of us have been all of them.
Nouwen's prose somehow manages to be both crystalline and soft. I don't know how he did it, unless it was by divine intervention. When I began reading Henri Nouwen over a decade ago, I realized how far I had to go as a writer...and as a human being.
February 7, 2017
Esta es la revisión que más me ha costado escribir. Por que lo que diga no reflejará lo que este libro puede transmitir.
He disfrutado tanto leerlo y he aprendido tanto sobre cómo puede ser mi relación con Dios, que recomendarlo es poco, yo te diría que lo leas, y lo leas ¡ya!. Que lo medites y que te lleve a mirar a tu interior.
He disfrutado tanto leerlo y he aprendido tanto sobre cómo puede ser mi relación con Dios, que recomendarlo es poco, yo te diría que lo leas, y lo leas ¡ya!. Que lo medites y que te lleve a mirar a tu interior.
June 28, 2019
Enjoyed rereading this classic. Nouwen was a beautiful soul and a gift to the whole church.
February 21, 2020
My Reflection on Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son.
"I was dead tired, anxious, lonely, restless and very needy." How could this be, a priest and theologian, half a world away, 30 years ago, felt just like me? Aren't I the only one who feels this way? Isn't this how working moms of teenagers feel?
Again and again Henri Nouwen echoed, predicted and faced the emotions I am facing and his Return of the Prodigal Son.
Meeting with the small group (Small Christian Community - SCC) in the weeks following Easter (2016) we worked our way through the parables of mercy in the Gospel of Luke. Each week I was looking for instruction on how to be merciful, while everyone else was seeing where they needed or received mercy.
I am perpetually looking outward – who knew I needed to look inward first – to recognize myself in this parable, to recognize my own faults and feelings, to recognize the mercy already being so freely given to me – and then actually being able to witness myself receiving it.
We focused on Luke's Return of the Prodigal Son and our guidebook suggested reflecting on Rembrandt's painting of the parable when the father embraces his returning younger son. And one of the members of the group spoke of us each being in the parable – as each of the three characters – at some point in our lives – and that hit home.
After the next week's SCC meeting she lent me Nouwen's book and I cried through the first 60 pages in one sitting.
I realized I needed to receive the mercy of God in order to be able to give it to others, all the instruction in the world on "how to" wouldn't matter if I didn't have any mercy to give.
I learned and recognized so much about myself in Nouwen's writing. The very first recognition was my addiction to control, the lack of real risk I take in my life because it would result in my not being in control. (Of course, that addiction to control can adversely affect others in my life.) I have to participate more with others and to allow God to guide me. To do that, I must trust, to trust, I have to have faith in His love, His will and His mercy for me, no matter what I face by letting go.
"… requiring me to let go one more time from wanting to be in control, to give up one more time the desire to protect life, to die one more time to the fear of not knowing where it all will lead and to surrender one more time to a love that knows no limits…" (p14)
A month ago, before the Small Christian Community meeting, I had a dream. It woke me up out of a dead sleep with a voice asking the single question: "Are you working for man, or are you working for God?" My immediate response was, "Please don't make me give up my family" and for twenty-four hours I worried I was being asked to give up something, and maybe I am – to give up control.
Like the parable’s younger son, I want all "my due" and I want it now, so I can administer and manage it, and while I will likely not lose it all on "loose women" and end up feeding pigs – that desire for control drives me far into a distant country where I don't hear God and I certainly don't allow Him to guide me.
"… As long as we live within the world’s delusions, our addictions condemn us to futile quests in "the distant country", leaving us to face and endless series of disillusionments while our sense of self remains unfulfilled… It's almost as if I want to prove to myself and my world that I do not need God's love, but I can make a life of my own, but I want to be fully independent." (P 43)
"The farther I run away from the place where God dwells, the less I am able to hear the voice that calls me the beloved, the less I hear that voice, the more entangled I become in the manipulations of power games of the world… The world around me becomes dark. My heart grows heavy. My body is filled with sorrows. My life loses meaning. I have become a lost soul." (P 47)
This loss of everything brings me to what is left – my identity. Maybe not rock bottom – but my very bedrock. It is then that I might (or I can finally) hear His voice, ever so faintly.
When one hits that bedrock one can then begin again, and it is my hope to be like the wayward son, and know that the new beginning needs to be made with God, the father, who will guide, ground and give me all I need. Through Him I am saved, with Him I live my life and in Him is everything I truly need. “God is the only resource left me." (P 52)
And so I clearly recognize myself as the younger son, needing to return to God, to be reborn (again and again) in Him, to receive the mercy He is waiting to give me.
As I then reflect further on the painting, and as I read on, I see and agree that the entire painting presents "an enormous spiritual challenge." (P 64) I sink back into those dangerous feelings:
"… I tried so hard, worked so long, did so much and still I have not received… I catch myself complaining about little projections… The more I analyze it, the more reason I see for my complaint… An enormous, dark drawing power in our complaint… I've become more and more boss until in the end, I feel myself to be the most misunderstood, rejected and neglected and despised person… Then the complaint, once expressed… Leads to further rejection." (P 72)
I cannot enter into God’s joy or easily accept His mercy when it is presented to me if complaint engulfs me. And so I see that I am the elder brother too,… (And I think he represents the Pharisees, not a positive feeling for this self-described Biblical scholar.)
Here Nouwen discusses the reality that I am not poor hungry or persecuted, I am not marginalized, I am public with my faith – so have I already received my reward? – Is there a place for me with God since I am not wretched, poor and outcast? – the parable says "yes" I am with God, always. Perhaps I need to rest in that (or not rest) and be open, loving and caring for other "children" that need to be welcomed or welcomed back.
"… let God, whose unlimited, unconditional love melts away all resentments and anger and makes me free to love beyond the need to please or find approval." (P 83)
Now I learn that the father loves both sons, and His love is not divided into "more and less" for them. Living in a world of compassion, how do I let others know (my partners, children, friends, family) that they don't just get a portion allotted to them? They get what I can give and what they're willing to receive – there is no measurable depth or worth of this kind of love. It is pure grace and gift, whether it is from God, parents, spouse, sibling or child or from me.
When I recognize this, I feel it in my core, I see where Nouwen is leading me - to be the Father. I must become like the father. As a parent, I see this naturally but could never quite put it to words, especially when accused by my kids of favoring one over the other.
"No father or mother ever became father or mother without having been son or daughter, but every son and daughter has to consciously choose to step beyond their childhood and become father and mother for others. It is a hard and lonely step to take … but it is a step that is essential for the fulfillment of the spiritual journey." (P 121)
Henri Nouwen speaks of a dreadful emptiness: no power, no success, no popularity, no easy satisfaction but it leads to true freedom that then leads to the real spiritual strength only then can I offer hope and mercy to others.
""I have to dare to carry the responsibility of a spiritually adult person and dare to trust that the real joy and real fulfillment can only come from welcoming love those who have been hurt and wounded on their life's journey, and loving them with the love that neither asks nor expects anything in return… [Otherwise] who is going to be home when they return – tired, exhausted, excited, disappointed, guilty or ashamed? Who is going to convince them that, after all is said and done, there is a safe place to return to and receive and embrace? If it is not I, who is it going to be?" (P 132)
To know and feel called to serve others yet not have received mercy of God myself leaves me handicapped, not fully-equipped to do the very service I feel called to. That impact with rock bottom or bedrock that finally cracks me open to receive is not always a visible deterioration, at least not necessarily visible to others. But my husband, he knew I was breaking, but few others could see the fissures, except perhaps the friend that lent me this book, and my own father (earthly, that is).
These three allowed me to break, safely in the arms of God's mercy, they made me safe, they opened the door, they were able to give me mercy in ways they were not aware and ways that I now realize I want to be able to give to others when I serve. And now that I have tasted some of that mercy, I can share it. For as my friend said in that small Christian community meeting in reflecting on this parable, "How can we give mercy from God if we have not received it from Him ourselves?"
I need works like this, books like this, and maybe in Henri Nouwen I have found a new companion on my journey. My academic self sometimes needs to leave behind the hermeneutics, the historical context, literary genre, chiasms and even theology. I can only discover that deeper teaching, meaning and mercy of Christ by looking deep within myself, opening the heart’s door, to see what He has indeed written on my heart. He is my God I am His, He chose me.
"I was dead tired, anxious, lonely, restless and very needy." How could this be, a priest and theologian, half a world away, 30 years ago, felt just like me? Aren't I the only one who feels this way? Isn't this how working moms of teenagers feel?
Again and again Henri Nouwen echoed, predicted and faced the emotions I am facing and his Return of the Prodigal Son.
Meeting with the small group (Small Christian Community - SCC) in the weeks following Easter (2016) we worked our way through the parables of mercy in the Gospel of Luke. Each week I was looking for instruction on how to be merciful, while everyone else was seeing where they needed or received mercy.
I am perpetually looking outward – who knew I needed to look inward first – to recognize myself in this parable, to recognize my own faults and feelings, to recognize the mercy already being so freely given to me – and then actually being able to witness myself receiving it.
We focused on Luke's Return of the Prodigal Son and our guidebook suggested reflecting on Rembrandt's painting of the parable when the father embraces his returning younger son. And one of the members of the group spoke of us each being in the parable – as each of the three characters – at some point in our lives – and that hit home.
After the next week's SCC meeting she lent me Nouwen's book and I cried through the first 60 pages in one sitting.
I realized I needed to receive the mercy of God in order to be able to give it to others, all the instruction in the world on "how to" wouldn't matter if I didn't have any mercy to give.
I learned and recognized so much about myself in Nouwen's writing. The very first recognition was my addiction to control, the lack of real risk I take in my life because it would result in my not being in control. (Of course, that addiction to control can adversely affect others in my life.) I have to participate more with others and to allow God to guide me. To do that, I must trust, to trust, I have to have faith in His love, His will and His mercy for me, no matter what I face by letting go.
"… requiring me to let go one more time from wanting to be in control, to give up one more time the desire to protect life, to die one more time to the fear of not knowing where it all will lead and to surrender one more time to a love that knows no limits…" (p14)
A month ago, before the Small Christian Community meeting, I had a dream. It woke me up out of a dead sleep with a voice asking the single question: "Are you working for man, or are you working for God?" My immediate response was, "Please don't make me give up my family" and for twenty-four hours I worried I was being asked to give up something, and maybe I am – to give up control.
Like the parable’s younger son, I want all "my due" and I want it now, so I can administer and manage it, and while I will likely not lose it all on "loose women" and end up feeding pigs – that desire for control drives me far into a distant country where I don't hear God and I certainly don't allow Him to guide me.
"… As long as we live within the world’s delusions, our addictions condemn us to futile quests in "the distant country", leaving us to face and endless series of disillusionments while our sense of self remains unfulfilled… It's almost as if I want to prove to myself and my world that I do not need God's love, but I can make a life of my own, but I want to be fully independent." (P 43)
"The farther I run away from the place where God dwells, the less I am able to hear the voice that calls me the beloved, the less I hear that voice, the more entangled I become in the manipulations of power games of the world… The world around me becomes dark. My heart grows heavy. My body is filled with sorrows. My life loses meaning. I have become a lost soul." (P 47)
This loss of everything brings me to what is left – my identity. Maybe not rock bottom – but my very bedrock. It is then that I might (or I can finally) hear His voice, ever so faintly.
When one hits that bedrock one can then begin again, and it is my hope to be like the wayward son, and know that the new beginning needs to be made with God, the father, who will guide, ground and give me all I need. Through Him I am saved, with Him I live my life and in Him is everything I truly need. “God is the only resource left me." (P 52)
And so I clearly recognize myself as the younger son, needing to return to God, to be reborn (again and again) in Him, to receive the mercy He is waiting to give me.
As I then reflect further on the painting, and as I read on, I see and agree that the entire painting presents "an enormous spiritual challenge." (P 64) I sink back into those dangerous feelings:
"… I tried so hard, worked so long, did so much and still I have not received… I catch myself complaining about little projections… The more I analyze it, the more reason I see for my complaint… An enormous, dark drawing power in our complaint… I've become more and more boss until in the end, I feel myself to be the most misunderstood, rejected and neglected and despised person… Then the complaint, once expressed… Leads to further rejection." (P 72)
I cannot enter into God’s joy or easily accept His mercy when it is presented to me if complaint engulfs me. And so I see that I am the elder brother too,… (And I think he represents the Pharisees, not a positive feeling for this self-described Biblical scholar.)
Here Nouwen discusses the reality that I am not poor hungry or persecuted, I am not marginalized, I am public with my faith – so have I already received my reward? – Is there a place for me with God since I am not wretched, poor and outcast? – the parable says "yes" I am with God, always. Perhaps I need to rest in that (or not rest) and be open, loving and caring for other "children" that need to be welcomed or welcomed back.
"… let God, whose unlimited, unconditional love melts away all resentments and anger and makes me free to love beyond the need to please or find approval." (P 83)
Now I learn that the father loves both sons, and His love is not divided into "more and less" for them. Living in a world of compassion, how do I let others know (my partners, children, friends, family) that they don't just get a portion allotted to them? They get what I can give and what they're willing to receive – there is no measurable depth or worth of this kind of love. It is pure grace and gift, whether it is from God, parents, spouse, sibling or child or from me.
When I recognize this, I feel it in my core, I see where Nouwen is leading me - to be the Father. I must become like the father. As a parent, I see this naturally but could never quite put it to words, especially when accused by my kids of favoring one over the other.
"No father or mother ever became father or mother without having been son or daughter, but every son and daughter has to consciously choose to step beyond their childhood and become father and mother for others. It is a hard and lonely step to take … but it is a step that is essential for the fulfillment of the spiritual journey." (P 121)
Henri Nouwen speaks of a dreadful emptiness: no power, no success, no popularity, no easy satisfaction but it leads to true freedom that then leads to the real spiritual strength only then can I offer hope and mercy to others.
""I have to dare to carry the responsibility of a spiritually adult person and dare to trust that the real joy and real fulfillment can only come from welcoming love those who have been hurt and wounded on their life's journey, and loving them with the love that neither asks nor expects anything in return… [Otherwise] who is going to be home when they return – tired, exhausted, excited, disappointed, guilty or ashamed? Who is going to convince them that, after all is said and done, there is a safe place to return to and receive and embrace? If it is not I, who is it going to be?" (P 132)
To know and feel called to serve others yet not have received mercy of God myself leaves me handicapped, not fully-equipped to do the very service I feel called to. That impact with rock bottom or bedrock that finally cracks me open to receive is not always a visible deterioration, at least not necessarily visible to others. But my husband, he knew I was breaking, but few others could see the fissures, except perhaps the friend that lent me this book, and my own father (earthly, that is).
These three allowed me to break, safely in the arms of God's mercy, they made me safe, they opened the door, they were able to give me mercy in ways they were not aware and ways that I now realize I want to be able to give to others when I serve. And now that I have tasted some of that mercy, I can share it. For as my friend said in that small Christian community meeting in reflecting on this parable, "How can we give mercy from God if we have not received it from Him ourselves?"
I need works like this, books like this, and maybe in Henri Nouwen I have found a new companion on my journey. My academic self sometimes needs to leave behind the hermeneutics, the historical context, literary genre, chiasms and even theology. I can only discover that deeper teaching, meaning and mercy of Christ by looking deep within myself, opening the heart’s door, to see what He has indeed written on my heart. He is my God I am His, He chose me.
May 27, 2022
Five stars may be generous, but I’m going with it. While the Prodigal Son is ubiquitous, the meaning is fresh each time. This time some of my thoughts included:
Of course I’ve been (and am when I choose sin instead of the Savior) the younger son. And I am thankful for the character of the Father in those (many) instances.
And:
This is the first time I’ve seen someone put on a page the word “burden” in the way I’ve described it for years. I’ve been the older son when my salvation was a burden of responsibility instead of freedom in being the Father’s child.
But my mind was blown when he asked:
Are we willing to be the Father? !!! Yes. Those who abide in Him should walk like Him. So am I willing to be forgiving, welcoming, compassionate, etc. etc. etc. I hope so.
Quick, easy, insightful.
Of course I’ve been (and am when I choose sin instead of the Savior) the younger son. And I am thankful for the character of the Father in those (many) instances.
And:
This is the first time I’ve seen someone put on a page the word “burden” in the way I’ve described it for years. I’ve been the older son when my salvation was a burden of responsibility instead of freedom in being the Father’s child.
But my mind was blown when he asked:
Are we willing to be the Father? !!! Yes. Those who abide in Him should walk like Him. So am I willing to be forgiving, welcoming, compassionate, etc. etc. etc. I hope so.
Quick, easy, insightful.
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