For the first twenty-four years of my life, I was essentially 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 where I primarily interacted 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 white, not black, etc. These very clear boundaries gave me a sense that I was in the right place, that I was fully protected, in absolute safety. I had never met anyone who had divorced, left the priesthood, or was gay. I had a very clear idea of what I would do once I became a priest. I knew the right teachings and understood the path I needed to take to lead a moral life. During six years of seminary training, I received very clearly formulated instructions, surrounded by people who had 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 like Christians do, that pagans can love each other just as believers do, that human pride is multidimensional, that homosexual people have a unique mission within the Christian community, that the poor belong to the very core of the church, and that the Spirit of God blows where it pleases. All these realizations gradually broke down many barriers around my previously safe garden, and thanks to them, I also fully understood that God's covenant with God's people includes every person. For me personally, the time for searching, asking questions, and painful struggles had come, a time of deep loneliness, a time not lacking moments of painful inner uncertainty and ambiguous conclusions. Jesus, whom I had known in my youth, had died. I embarked on a daunting journey to Emmaus and began to listen to the voice of Someone who joined me on my pilgrimage.
(Henri Nouwen /1932–1996/, My history with God)
