L’Arche, the international organization founded by Canadian Jean Vanier for “people with and without intellectual disabilities,” is truly unique and counter-cultural. I learned this first-hand two years ago when my soon-to-be wife was working as an assistant at L’Arche Calgary. I had read several of Vanier’s books, but had never spent time with people with developmental disabilities before. When my wife invited me to a L’Arche home for dinner, I was terrified. What would I say to the people living there? Would we have anything in common? Would it be awkward? I secretly dreaded the visit.
Then the day arrived, and I realized my worrying was ridiculous. Everyone at L’Arche warmly accepted me, and I didn’t need to think of things to say or do to impress them. Instead, we shared a good meal, listened to country music, sang and laughed together. I quickly learned that at L’Arche, the things that matter to most of us — accomplishment, image and status — don’t hold much weight.
What matters at L’Arche is being open to the people around you and responding to their needs. It’s a disarmingly simple truth and one that Vanier has built his life around. This truth is at the centre of Our Life Together, a collection of Vanier’s letters from L’Arche’s beginning in 1964 to the present. Vanier, the son of former governor general Georges Vanier, started L’Arche by simply inviting two men with disabilities to live with him in Trosly, France. Today, L’Arche communities flourish in 34 countries around the world.
Vanier’s spare, insightful prose gives the reader a very tangible sense of place. He’s travelled extensively since L’Arche began, and his humble observations about his host countries are poignant and arresting. In Honduras, he sees “so much life and dignity in many of the poor.” In India, it’s “a people so profoundly human and religious.” Everywhere he goes, Vanier is intentional about meeting with and listening to the rejected, the weak, the marginalized of society. Throughout his life, for example, he’s frequently visited men and women in prison — people he views as misunderstood. “I carry them deeply in my heart,” he writes after one visit in Quebec. “If I had been born in other circumstances, perhaps I might be behind bars today, full of frustration and anger.”
Most striking are Vanier’s constant prayers over the years to become poorer and to feel “anguish” in front of the poor around the world. Who in their right mind asks for anguish? We want so badly to feel good about ourselves, to avoid discomfort. Vanier, by contrast, actively seeks out discomfort and prays for anguish so he can truly live in solidarity with the poor. His inclusive Catholic faith doesn’t allow for easy answers to life’s challenging questions.
Vanier is never patronizing. Whether he’s describing a certain city or a person with a disability, he does so with a gentle, sensitive humility. Our Life Together shows a man of integrity, someone who’s constantly questioning the way he lives. “I still feel how much I am part of the class of people who are rich and have power,” he laments in Calcutta. Vanier is also constantly questioning L’Arche, wary of the many traps into which the organization could fall.
As I read through Our Life Together, I kept thinking about its timeliness and relevance for Alberta. So many in our province are unfairly marginalized. People with developmental disabilities get only $1,050 a month from the provincial government — hardly a livable income. Many people in our city live without even a home to sleep in. How can we call our society “developed” when we allow these injustices? Vanier’s timely call for a more inclusive, authentic and compassionate humanity invites a generous response from all of us.
