The first twenty-four years of my life were essentially spent preparing for a career as a Catholic priest. I was born and raised in a Roman Catholic family, attended Roman Catholic schools, and led a life in which I exclusively associated with Roman Catholics. I was a Roman Catholic, not a Protestant. I was a Christian, not a Muslim, Buddhist, or Hindu. I was a believer, not a pagan. I was a white person, not a black person, etc. These very clear boundaries gave me a sense that I had taken the right place, that I was fully protected, in absolute safety. I had never encountered anyone who had divorced, left the priesthood, or was gay. I had a perfectly clear idea of what I would do once I became a priest. I knew the right teachings and I understood the path I needed to take in order to lead a moral life. During the six years of seminary education, I received perfectly clear instructions, surrounded by people who received the same instructions…
Over the years, however, I came to understand that Protestants belong to the church just as much as Catholics do, that Hindus, Buddhists, and Muslims believe in God just as Christians do, that pagans can love one another just as believers can, that human pride is multidimensional, that homosexual people have a unique mission within the Christian community, that the poor are at the very core of the church, and that the Spirit of God blows wherever it wants. All these insights gradually broke down many barriers around my previously safe garden, and thanks to them, I fully realized that God's covenant with God's people includes every person. For me personally, the time had come for searching, questioning, and a painful struggle, a time of deep loneliness, a time that was not without moments of painful inner uncertainty and ambiguous conclusions. Jesus, whom I met in my youth, died. I embarked on a daunting journey to Emmaus and began listening to the voice of Someone who joined me on my journey.
(Henri Nouwen /1932–1996/, My history with God)
