Today, I am cross-posting a blog from my friend, Tim Vermande, about Jean Vanier who is the founder of L’Arche Communities. I encourage you to learn more about Vanier and his work if you don’t know it. Tim’s original post, which includes my poem, can be seen here.
On Holy Saturday, the world heard that Jean Vanier, founder of L’Arche, had moved to palliative care at the age of 90. My friend Chris Wylie wrote this poem in response, which in turn led me to write the essay that follows the poem. We are publishing our thoughts together.
Jelly beans. Not just bags, boxes, or even crates. The day I arrived at a L’Arche office to begin a short-term residence as part of my seminary work, the office was full to the brim with cases of jelly beans.
The jelly beans were part of a federal government surplus program. They’d been stored in a warehouse for a while, and someone had decided it was time to share them. So social service agencies throughout the northeast received a share of the supply.
And social service agencies throughout the northeast had no idea how to handle stacks and stacks of jelly beans. If I wanted to sit, I had to move jelly beans. In the end, I was encouraged to (and did) take some jelly beans with me as a souvenir of the trip.
For the remainder of a two-week period, my wife and I enjoyed the hospitality of a L’Arche community, and shared lives, love, and jelly beans like never before.
We also, as befitting a seminary assignment, discussed the workings of L’Arche with people in the business office, and, most of all, with the community’s full-time chaplain. Refreshing and insightful discussions with a colleague of theology, pastoral concerns, the history and writings of Jean Vanier and Henri Nouwen. In one of those talks, I asked how he approached people with limited language skills. He replied that they didn’t need to understand the words, they would understand the love.
Love is sort of like jelly beans. It’s everywhere, you just have to learn to appreciate the gifts, even if the package may be different.
And now, Mr. Vanier, as you stand on the edge of eternity, maybe we can understand the love you have given the world, the gift of learning about ourselves.
Poem: Chris Wylie
Notes: Tim Vermande
Photo: Tiia Monto, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30369613