Jean Vanier: A personal tribute from Beth Porter, member of L'Arche Daybreak.

'Can we reasonably have a dream, like Martin Luther King, of a world where people, whatever their race, religion, culture, culture, abilities or disabilities, whatever their education or economic situation, whatever their age or gender, can find a place and reveal their gifts?'

“He has eyes like vacuum cleaners,” one of my friends commented after hearing Jean Vanier at a large Canadian university auditorium. It was the early 1970s. He did have a charismatic presence, but it was his message and the authenticity of his person that drew me back to hear him the next night. At that time, his message that “the poor” have much to give to us seemed a stretch to me, though it was drawn from the Beatitudes, and there was no doubt that people with learning disabilities were poor, dismissed, and abandoned by our society. (Indeed, we neither saw nor heard about them because they lived in institutions remote from large cities.)  

I came to L’Arche Daybreak in 1981. Until about 20 years ago, I knew Jean Vanier in the way most Canadian L’Arche assistants knew him: as a friend and advocate for people with disabilities and an inspiring speaker at retreats and spiritual conferences, but someone I had little personal contact with and whose message was relatively unknown outside mainstream Christian circles and the communities of L’Arche and Faith and Light. One thing that surprised me from that time was how well-informed Jean was about events in the world. At one retreat when Corey Aquino had just assumed the reins in the Philippines, he spoke to us about the suffering there and his hope for that country. (Much later, when I interviewed him for L’Arche Canada’s thought sheet, he stressed the need for political leaders to include in their circle people whose views oppose theirs).

I was convinced that L’Arche and Jean Vanier’s vision should be more widely known and, having taught in secular educational systems, I longed to make sense of L’Arche to my friends who were secular or Jewish. With his 1998 CBC Massey Lectures (a major week-long series, published as the book, Becoming Human) Jean broke through to a wider audience. My own heart burned within me as I heard him invite listeners into his vision:

Can we reasonably have a dream, like Martin Luther King, of a world where people, whatever their race, religion, culture, culture, abilities or disabilities, whatever their education or economic situation, whatever their age or gender, can find a place and reveal their gifts?...Can we hope for a society whose metaphor is not a pyramid but a body, where each of us is a vital part in the harmony and function of the whole? (p. 123)

Three years later, Jean made a film with Windborne Productions, titled Belonging: The Search for Acceptance. It was just after 9/11. He felt that what our world needs most is to recognize that every person belongs and has a gift to contribute. The film touches on the sterility of much of the corporate world, the plight of refugees and of students who are bullied, and the need of the major religions to find commonality. (It includes glimpses of life in L’Arche and also interviews with a rabbi and a Muslim leader.) By this time, I was working with L’Arche Canada, creating educational resources for high school students with a view to inspiring Jean’s vision in them. We wrote a study guide for the Belonging film. Ministries of Education in Canada picked it up, and in Alberta, even engaged Jean to record short additional clips for their social studies curriculum.

I was passionate about this work with young people, and I discovered Jean to be also. On one visit to Canada he met with senior high school students who asked questions related to their future. He clearly enjoyed speaking with them and we were able to make a video resource for career counselling programs. Earlier, at World Youth Day in Toronto and then in 2007 at a very large student forum, he held the teenagers in rapt attention as he urged them to have a vision to change our world for the better, and to work together to do this. His love for all of this large audience of young people which included students with disabilities, was overflowing and they certainly sensed this and responded.

Jean grew in openness throughout his life, even as he called us to grow. He was willing to listen and be challenged. And he attended deeply to the call of the Spirit. More recently, Jean sometimes asked my editorial input on something he was working on. In his film on the Gospel of John, he invited my comments on certain parts because he knew I was concerned about the anti-Judaism in that gospel. On a different project, when I recommended the then-still-new NRSV Bible for some quotations, he explained that he wanted to use the New Jerusalem Bible “because it is more pastoral.” He sought always to draw others closer to God in what he said and wrote. When I sent him the draft of the book of stories I was writing about my years in L’Arche, he responded enthusiastically and graciously gave me the Foreword. Thankfully, Jean received a copy of the DLT-published book, Accidental Friends, a few weeks before he passed away.

What is Jean’s legacy for me? I would say it is threefold: to stay close to people on the margins and never stop growing in openness, to be aware of the currents of our times and try to contribute to building a better society, and to listen to the spirit and maintain a life of prayer that will sustain me to journey peacefully towards the end of my own life.

Beth Porter is taught university English in Canada before coming to L’Arche in 1980. She was lead editor working on Befriending Life: Encounters with Henri Nouwen (DLT, 2001). For many years she has written reflections for the Catholic missal published by Novalis. Her new book, Accidental Friends: Stories from my life in community, about her time at L’Arche Daybreak is available now.