Et ils se reconnurent comme se reconnaissent les italiques.
« Autobiographie du rouge », Anne Carson, L’Arche, coll. Des écrits pour la parole, 2020 p. 52

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Et ils se reconnurent comme se reconnaissent les italiques.
« Autobiographie du rouge », Anne Carson, L’Arche, coll. Des écrits pour la parole, 2020 p. 52
In 1964, after a visit to an institution in France where disabled men were kept locked up, Jean Vanier (1928-2019) gave up teaching philosophy at the University of Toronto and bought a small house in northern France, where he lived with two disabled men from the local psychiatric asylum.
The word ethics, comes from ethos, which originally meant a regular sleeping place or shelter. Living with others creates a sense of being at home as belonging. Fundamental to this sense of home and belonging is having a safe place to sleep, both physically and emotionally, a place to let your guard down and be accepted as you are. Everyone needs a safe place to call home, a safe place to sleep, and to feel loved.
Living with others, welcoming them into your home, accepting them as they are, and interacting with them through love, this is what makes us human. It is not our linguistic abilities, our reason, our tool-making, our productivity, but our affective connection and the ways in which that connection makes human life meaningful that are distinctive to humanity. To live with others is to learn tenderness as a lesson in loving the uniqueness of each person.
Reality belongs
From Becoming Human by Jean Vanier
Tenderness is the language of the body as a mother holds her child, as a nurse touches the patient’s wound, or as an assistant bathes someone with severe disabilities. Recently, in a Buddhist monastery, I watched a sister as she served us food and tea with great delicacy; it was as if the meal itself was sacred, revealing a presence of God. And so it did, because it was treated so. Tenderness is the language of the body speaking of respect; thus, the body honours whatever it touches; it honours reality. It does not act as if reality itself must be changed or possessed; reality belongs to humanity and to God. Isn’t this the way we should relate to all living beings - plants, animals, and the earth?
Isaiah writes about the Messiah:
He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard on the street; a bruised reed he will not break and a flickering wick he will not quench. (Isaiah 42:2-3)
There is no fear in tenderness. Tenderness is not weakness, lack of strength, or sloppiness; tenderness is filled with strength, respect, and wisdom. In tenderness, we know how and when to touch someone to help them to be and to be well. Through my contact with Raphael and Philippe, the first two people I welcomed to l’Arche, and my many, many other teachers among the people with disabilities, I have in some small way learned to inhabit my body and to see it not just as a channel for therapy but as a way of revealing my heart and of being in communion with others.
I have alluded to the way in which communion has the power to reveal beauty and value to another, how it frees us to be truly ourselves, but this communion demands respectful listening to the nonverbal language of the other person. I say nonverbal because, in the world of friendship and relationship, gestures normally precede the word. The word is there to confirm the gesture and give it its signification.
I see now that this communion with people with disabilities, and the tenderness implied, has helped me to find a new inner wholeness, a unity between my affectivity and my intelligence.
JEAN VANIER | SEPTEMBER 10, 1928 - MAY 7, 2019
Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche, the international community for people with learning disabilities, has died at the age of 90.
In his final message, he said:
"God is good and whatever happens it will be the best. I am happy and give thanks for everything. My deepest love to each one of you."
In a statement, L'Arche said: "It is with great sadness that we announce the death of Jean Vanier, our founder. Jean died on the 7 May in the Maison Médicale Jeanne Garnier in Paris."
MAY HE REST IN PEACE
Normal
Growing up, one of our close family friends had cerebral palsy.
Which meant that understanding what Jim was saying required very focused listening. Sometimes a bit of lip reading. To his credit, Jim was always gracious about repeating himself, so that I could follow along.
Whenever we did anything that went beyond the circle of immediate family, Jim was always there. At the time, I didn’t really thing about it. He was just part of our normal.
My parents didn’t make a big deal about including Jim. They just did.
As his mobility declined, they didn’t make a big deal out of helping Jim deal with it. They just did.
When became easier for Jim to do things as his place, they didn’t make a big deal out of bringing the party to him. They just did.
It wasn’t until I was in 3rd or 4th grade that I realized not everybody’s normal included someone like Jim.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized the gift that my parents had given to me. By making Jim part of our normal.
I bring this up because earlier this week, Jean Vanier died. Vanier founded L’Arche. An international network of communities where people with developmental disabilities live together with their caregivers. Where people with developmental disabilities are part of their normal.
Whether it’s the things that my parents did for Jim, or the lifelong, daily involvement of people like Jean Vanier – if you look at the things they are doing, the actual things are very basic, very simple things.
But somehow, there is so much more to them. Because of how those things are done. With love.
Vanier said it best, “We are not called by God to do extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love.”
Today’s Readings
Le mot chacun arriva sur lui dans un souffle et se dispersa dans le vent. Géryon avait toujours eu ce problème : un mot comme chacun, Quand il le fixait des yeux, se désassemblait en lettres éparses avant de disparaître. Il restait un espace pour ce que ça voulait dire mais vide.
« Autobiographie du rouge », Anne Carson, L’Arche, coll. Des écrits pour la parole, 2020 p. 38
LIFE CONTINUES TO FLOW
“In our world today we're all confronted by the question of time: ‘What must I do when I'm no longer working? Would I have enough money?’ When sickness and death comes, we’re so scared because we rarely planned for it though I can have an accident today and die. We must accept the reality of weakness and death without planifying it, without making it an obsession or compulsion. We have to be much more concerned with growth in love and prayerfulness than with death or with time. At my age, I have to accept my gifts but I've also a lot to learn about growing downwards, living with anguish without running away from it, acknowledging that today I'm tired and weak and I can't solve the problems of others. I'm called to enter into new types of relationships and into deeper communion of love with Jesus and with all my brothers and sisters. The poet Tagore said, “death is not a lamp that is extinguished it is the coming of dawn.” Weakness, crises and death are never an end but a new beginning. ‘L’Arche’ and ‘Faith and Light’ were founded on weakness. They will continue to grow in their mission in and through their fragility and God will continue to be present. God works through our communities and I'm happy to see it. LIFE CONTINUES TO FLOW.”
Depuis 2024 — Les couvertures de la collection « Des écrits pour la parole » pour L’Arche.
Jessica Biermann Grunstein, Nos territoires, 2025. » Joëlle Sambi, et vos corps seront caillasses, 2024. » Christophe Pellet, Une marche à soi, 2025. » Léonora Miano, Écrits pour la parole, 2024. » Fabrice Melquiot, La Contrebande, 2025. » Kae Tempest, Courir sur les cordes, illustration de Chien fou, trad. Héloïse Esquié, 2024. » Adrienne Rich, Le Rêve d’un langage commun, trad. Shira Abramovich & Lénaïg Cariou, 2025. » Sarah Kane, 4:48 Psychose, suivi de Skin, trad. Vanasay Khamphommala, 2024. »