Jean Vanier died May 7, 2019. The way he lived his life and
the words he wrote have had a profound affect upon me—and my life choices.
On Tuesday as accolades piled up at Facebook and social
media, I was struck with how much this gentle man impacted others. You see, he
dwelled with the least of these: people with intellectual disabilities. For
someone destined for greatness and titles, he gave it up to live modestly,
sincerely, and without pretense. To give dignity to others.
Jean Vanier came from privilege as a son of the British
monarchy’s representative in Canada. After stints in the British and Canadian
navies, he considered becoming a Catholic priest. He attended seminary getting
a PhD in Philosophy with a dissertation on Aristotle in regards to happiness. In
the early 1960s, when he traveled to France to see his spiritual mentor, a
member of the Dominican order then serving as a chaplain at a home for people
with intellectual disabilities. He found what he described as a “chaotic
atmosphere of violence and uproar.” Some patients were shackled. Those who were
not did little but walk in circles. Especially disturbing to Mr. Vanier was
their screams. The scene was typical of mental institutions around the world at
the time.
Thus his life took an unexpected turn—he asked if he could
remove 2 of the asylum’s residents and live with them in a small house. It was
a peer-to-peer relationship, he saw these brothers as having a lot to offer. He
grew as a human being.
That house was the first of 154 communities across 38
countries that today form the network known as L’Arche. In 2015 Jean Vanier was
awarded the Templeton Prize honoring “exceptional contribution to affirming
life’s spiritual dimension.” Bestowed by the U.S.-based John Templeton
Foundation, the prize was worth approximately $1.7 million.
I was struck by reading the various tributes how Vanier
lived his life in contrast to society. “We are not called by God to do
extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love.” He
valued failure—how opposite is that?
Where parents have done their damnedest to get their kids
into prestigious colleges—even breaking the law. It’s all about advance,
advance, don’t retreat. Win, win, win. Kids today have to be the best, the
smartest, carve out a niche for their college essays by being unique. Well, not
everyone can be unique, literally we’d all
be unique, and therefore, no one would be unique.
“The fear of failure, of feeling helpless and unable to
cope, had been built up in me ever since my childhood. I had to be a success. I
had to prove my worth. I had to be right. This need to succeed and to be
accepted, even admired by my parents and by those whom I considered my “superiors,”
was a strong motivating force in me and is a motivation at the heart of many
human endeavours.”
― Jean Vanier, Becoming Human
“I am struck by how sharing our weakness and difficulties is
more nourishing to others than sharing our qualities and successes.”
- Community And Growth, Jean Vanier
The upside world of Jean Vanier is that in succeeding we
lose, that in failing we progress, can go forward. It is the same paradox found
in I Corinthians 1:26-28 Not many of you
were wise by human standards; not many were powerful; not many were of noble
birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God
chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly and
despised things of the world, and the things that are not, to nullify the
things that are,…
I’m wondering if in fact we should teach our children the
privilege of losing, the importance of failure. The BBC article I linked to
above asks the question: How important is an elite college degree? We certainly
know it isn’t worth the price. Only the wealthiest can afford a 4-year degree
from Harvard, Stanford, Yale.
I remember when my daughter graduated from college and was
writing short stories (she still is). She had an acceptance in the inaugural
issue of Goreyesque and was offered a public reading at Loyola University
downtown Chicago. We were so awfully proud. Afterwards there was a reception. A
man came up to us. I expected him to say he enjoyed Grace’s reading or to comment
on her story, instead he asked how she got into The New School. He had a
daughter/son he’d like to go there. Well, I wanted to say, first you have to
get out of the box—but why bother since he didn’t even know he was in a box. He
had no idea what was important. Some things money cannot buy.
Jean Vanier knew this and lived his life accordingly.
